Double Threat
Page 31
(“Now what?”)
I’m going to take a nap. Beauty sleep, you know …
SATURDAY—MARCH 7
1
Daley did manage to catch a few hours’ sleep. Her phone alarm woke her at one thirty and she was out the door fifteen minutes later wearing her baseball cap to hide the white patch. She didn’t think driving would allow a stealthy approach so she walked. The starlight and rising moon proved sufficient to light her way along the deserted street and up the hillside road.
(“Since it’s obvious I can’t dissuade you, I’m simply going to go along with this risky business.”)
Well, thank God! Does this mean the harassment will stop?
(“I was not harassing you. Merely attempting to persuade.”)
Yammer-yammer-yammer. Take a breath, will you?
(“I don’t breathe—I don’t need air to speak. But I’m stopping now. I’m simply going to shut up and pay attention.”)
Hallelujah!
She found her way to the parking area and from there to the side door where she’d entered with Rhys. An overhang shielded it from the sky, casting it into deep shadow. She checked her phone and found she was right on time.
(What now?”)
We wait, I guess.
(“How long?”)
How should I know? Don’t start, okay? I—
“Ungh.”
She jumped at the sound. Someone was in the deep shadow with her. A gloved hand thrust a typed sheet of paper at her. Another gloved hand held a penlight and trained it on the paper.
Note Man.
(“I guess you’re supposed to read.”)
Somewhere around 1990, Dylan Pendry, father to Elis and grandfather to Rhys, commissioned the making of a short educational film—not at all difficult to arrange in Southern California. It was originally on one reel and shown only to the Elders. A few years after his father died in 2001, Elis had the film digitized and divided into two parts which he then transferred to two specially coded DVDs that could be played only on the player in the Lodge. He then destroyed the film. Everyone in the clan has seen disk one. Only the Elders have seen disk two. I’m going to show you both tonight. I will mute the sound but the film has subtitles.
Turn your phone off—that’s all the way OFF—then follow me and don’t make a sound.
“Got it,” she said.
A soft “shhh” came out of the darkness.
A hand took the sheet from her. A dark figure in a hoodie waited until she’d turned off her phone, then the door swung open and he led the way in. No lights were on inside so he kept flashing the penlight behind him to show her the way. Just like last time, she went up a three-step flight to the lower floor and then around a corner and down a vaguely familiar hallway, except this time all was cloaked in darkness.
The farther into the Lodge she moved, the less she wanted to be here.
Instead of continuing straight ahead as she and Rhys had done before to arrive at the glassed-in room overlooking the town and the Imperial Valley, they turned right.
Maybe this was a mistake.
(“What did I tell you?”)
I don’t need to hear “I told you so” right now.
(“Well, nothing’s keeping us from turning around.”)
But now they’d arrived at a small, windowless, equally dark room. A flash of the penlight revealed a half dozen chairs all faced toward a monitor on the far wall.
Note Man tapped on one of the chairs and, guessing that meant sit, Daley hesitated, then sat. The door clicked shut behind her.
(“We’re staying?”)
Well, we’re here. It looks like it might be an AV room. We’ve come this far. Might as well see it through.
And so she sat and waited.
2
Elis Pendry awoke with Hefina snoring softly beside him and the odd feeling that something was wrong in the Lodge. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something somewhere in the building felt definitely off.
The display on the digital clock read 2:13. He knew Cadoc wandered in and out of the building nightly at all hours and was used to that. No, this was something different.
He slipped out from under the sheet and padded to the closet where he kept the pistol—a small .32 semiautomatic. He’d never had to point it at a human being and didn’t want tonight to change that. But he believed in being prepared for the worst.
Closing the door behind him, he flicked on the hall light and padded toward Rhys’s room. A quick peek through the crack he opened revealed his younger son sound asleep. Farther on and across the hall he found Cadoc’s room empty. No surprise there. Cad had been a nocturnal creature most of his adult life.
He made quick work of the rest of the second floor and found it deserted—as it should be.
Yet still the feeling persisted.
Leaving all the lights on, he headed down to the first floor which appeared completely dark, a good sign that Cadoc had left the Lodge and was wandering around outside. Where he went and what he did remained a mystery to Elis. Oh, he’d asked many times, but never got a straight answer. Out & about … Here & there … were about as specific as the notes ever got. Cadoc’s inability to communicate except through scribbling made a fluid conversation impossible, and he quickly tired of writing them.
But Elis couldn’t hold it against him—couldn’t hold anything against Cadoc. His skin was a horrible accident, something that had never happened before and he prayed would never happen again to any child of the clan. Elis couldn’t help feeling responsible, though. His affliction had warped Cadoc into a compulsive recluse, obsessed with keeping anyone from seeing his skin. Elis, in a very real sense, had brought that on.
He lit up the central hall and trotted down the short flight to the side entrance, the one everybody used. As expected, the Lodge alarm was unarmed—Cadoc’s doing. He habitually disarmed it when he went out and left it off till his return. He’d permanently disabled the CCTV camera over the door—his fear of being photographed. Elis had had it replaced twice but Cadoc had sabotaged it each time. He’d considered replacing it yet again but why bother? He’d only disable it.
He reset the alarm. When Cadoc returned, it would beep to let him know it was armed; he had the code to turn it off. But resetting it now meant no one without the code could enter or exit without setting off a howler.
Elis returned to the business floor and checked all the individual offices. Nothing wrong there. He headed toward his own office but remembered the AV room off to the right. He frowned as he approached the door. They usually left it open because it was such an airless little space, but no one had made it a rule. He’d give it a look before heading for his own office.
3
Daley heard a few metallic clicks behind her and then the screen lit with an illuminated square that faded into a map of Southern California. Subtitles started crawling along the bottom of the screen.
WELCOME TO THE SALTON TROUGH WHICH INCLUDES THE COACHELLA AND IMPERIAL VALLEYS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA, PLUS THE WESTERN HALF OF THE MEXICALI VALLEY AND THE COLORADO RIVER DELTA IN MEXICO.
The map changed, still Southern California but not the Southern California she knew. Baja looked much, much longer. Or did the Gulf of California reach farther north?
BUT MILLIONS OF YEARS AGO IT WAS ALL UNDERWATER, AN INLAND SEA THAT CONNECTED TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN. WHAT WE NOW CALL THE GULF OF CALIFORNIA BETWEEN BAJA AND MEXICO REACHED ALL THE WAY UP TO THE SAN GORGONIO PASS.
The view descended toward the inland sea. As it neared the surface Daley noticed large creatures floating on the water and gliding beneath. Dinosaurs? Possibly, but their images were blurred.
THE VISITORS LIKED THE SEA AND SPENT MILLIONS OF YEARS THERE.
Visitors?
Pard, do you have any idea what they’re talking about?
(“Not a clue.”)
She looked around. I should ask—
(“Maintain silence—please!”)
Okay, okay.
And no
w some sort of hole in space had opened over the water and the blurry forms began to flow through.
BUT THE VISITORS WERE CALLED AWAY.
Is this crazy or what? I thought those were dinosaurs but instead they’re …
(“Aliens from … what? Another star? Another dimension?”)
I didn’t know we’d be watching a sci-fi film.
(“I think it’s the clan’s religion, Daley. Remember how Doc Llewelyn told you yesterday afternoon that ‘the clan has its own unique religion.’”)
And this is it? They believe in visitors from another dimension? I think somebody’s been watching Ancient Astronauts too much.
(“It’s hardly unprecedented. The core beliefs of Scientology and Dormentalism are basically space opera.”)
She couldn’t believe Rhys bought into this.
The screen changed again to show a river running from the east and emptying into the water.
AFTER THE VISITORS’ DEPARTURE, THE SEA CHANGED. THE COLORADO RIVER WAS LARGER THEN AND EMPTIED INTO THE INLAND SEA.
An animation now showed silt being deposited in the sea, building up, gradually narrowing the gap until the northern half was divided from the Gulf of California.
EVENTUALLY SILT FROM THE COLORADO RIVER DELTA COLLECTED TO FORM A NATURAL DIKE AT WHAT IS NOW THE MEXICALI AREA BETWEEN THE WATERS OF THE GULF OF CALIFORNIA AND WHAT WE CALL THE SALTON TROUGH.
More animation showed the landlocked body of water shrinking to the size of the current Salton Sea.
MILLIONS OF YEARS PASS DURING WHICH THE WATER IN THE TROUGH DRIES UP, THEN GOES THROUGH CYCLES OF FLOODING AND DRYING UNTIL IT SETTLES INTO ITS CURRENT CONFIGURATION WITH THE SALTON SEA AS THE ONLY BODY OF WATER.
And now a live aerial shot of the Imperial Valley with its green checkerboard of farmland.
THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE LIVE IN THE TROUGH. THE VISITORS ARE FORGOTTEN BY ALL BUT A FAITHFUL FEW. BUT THE VISITORS CAN RETURN WHEN CONDITIONS ARE RIGHT … WHEN CELESTIAL BODIES ALIGN AND—
The screen abruptly went dark along with the room and she felt a hand franticly tapping her shoulder, its urgency unmistakable. She started to ask what was wrong but a gloved finger pressed against her lips. Note Man pulled her to her feet and guided her to a corner on the same wall as the door.
That was when she noticed light along the door’s edges. Someone was out there and they’d turned on the lights. Most likely that was what had alerted him.
Again the finger pressed against her lips and she nodded to signal she’d got the message: Keep quiet.
(“Something’s gone wrong.”)
Ya think?
A hand pressed down against the top of her head and she figured that meant to drop into a crouch, so she did. Note Man lifted a chair and set it in front of her, then disappeared into shadows on the far side of the room.
(“We’re staying here then?”)
Do you see another choice? We can’t run, so we hide.
The door clicked then and Daley froze and held her breath. Light from the hall poured into the room as the door swung inward.
If he turns on the light …
She couldn’t see the intruder, but whoever it was didn’t enter the room—just took a quick look, then retreated. But left the door open and the hall light on.
(“Looks like we’re going to be stuck here awhile.”)
At least we’re still undercover, as it were.
(“I’m glad you don’t wear perfume.”)
Why not?
(“Well, while he was hovering at the door—we’ll assume it was the head of the household, Elis Pendry—it occurred to me that in this small room, any hint of perfume would be instantly noticeable.”)
That’s why I don’t wear it.
(“Please, Daley, think who you’re talking to?”)
What?
(“I know you almost as well as you know yourself—maybe better. You don’t wear perfume because it never occurs to you.”)
Yeah, well, that too.
Still in a crouch, they waited … and waited.
After what seemed like a very long time …
Damn! It’s been—what—half an hour now?
(“Exactly nine minutes.”)
No way.
(“I can use your internal rhythms as a clock.”)
This is getting to me. If I don’t get out of here soon—
The hall light went out.
(“Won’t be long now.”)
More waiting, and then Daley jumped as a hand touched her arm and tugged her upward. As she rose, Note Man wrapped gloved fingers around her wrist and led her out into the hallway. He left her standing alone while he entered Elis Pendry’s office. Starlight and moonlight filtered through the big windows, silhouetting his hoodied figure as he hurried about inside.
(“Does he seem agitated to you?”)
Well, yeah, and why not? We almost got caught. Probably be worse for him than us.
(“You seem to think you have a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card from Deputy Alvarez. I wouldn’t count too heavily on that.”)
Can’t hurt.
Note Man returned within a minute and ushered her back the way they had come. They paused at the door while he disarmed an alarm, and seconds later they stepped out into the night. They paused briefly in the shadowed doorway where she took a deep, grateful breath of fresh air.
The finger pressed against her lips once more then gently steered her out into the starlight.
I’m guessing this means “Go home.”
(“So it would appear.”)
So she hurried down the hill.
(“Who is Note Man, do you think?”) Pard said.
No idea, but he sure knows his way around that Lodge.
(“Well, he did say he belongs to the clan, so maybe that explains it.”)
You think clan members are given the Lodge’s security code?
(“Maybe. Or maybe for a guy who spends his nights ‘watching’ and ‘listening,’ maybe he’s found them out.”)
Whatever. He knows the code. But what I want to know is what’s on disk two.
(“So do I. But let’s face it: Can it be any more bizarre than disk one? Visitors from Out There treating Earth like a vacation resort and crawling in and out cosmic wormholes to get here?”)
I don’t see how, but according to Note Man, one is the disk they let everybody see. What’s on two that they’re hiding from everyone but the Elders—even Rhys?
(“At least until he’s thirty.”)
Yeah, what’s up with that? He’s a grown man. What can possibly be on disk two?
(“You have to wait till Note Man shows up and ask him—if he shows up again.”)
He damn well better. This is making me wish right now I hadn’t seen disk one, because I can’t stop thinking about what’s on two. Should never have gone up there. And don’t say it.
(“Told you.”)
4
Elis felt logy the next morning, mainly because he hadn’t slept right. After satisfying himself that all was well in the Lodge, he’d returned to bed. But even though the feeling that something was amiss faded away, he couldn’t find restful sleep. He remembered hearing Cadoc come in around three—usually he never heard him—and after that he alternated between fitful slumber and wide awake.
Rhys looked perfectly chipper at breakfast. Why not? He’d been sleeping like the proverbial baby when Elis had looked in on him.
Saturday was Maria’s day off, so breakfast was do-it-yourself this morning. She’d left some sweet rolls that required only a quick trip through the microwave to make them as good as fresh.
“You’re up early for a Saturday,” Elis said, tearing one of the steaming rolls apart.
Usually Rhys slept in on weekends. Hefina slept late every morning, and Cadoc never ate with the family. So usually Elis had the breakfast table to himself on Saturdays and Sundays. Nice to have company for a change.
Rhys shrugged. “I was awake, so why not?”
As they ate in
silence, Elis still mulled over what had happened last night. The uneasiness had faded and never returned, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that he had missed something.
“So,” he said, “you actually have some extra time this morning?”
Rhys eyed him over his coffee cup, his expression wary. “Am I going to regret saying yes?”
“A favor, if you will: Run the configurations for me.”
His eyebrows rose. “Now? On a Saturday?”
“Finish your breakfast, of course. But before you involve yourself in whatever you’re going to get involved in today, run the star configurations for me.”
“Any reason I can know about?”
“I’m not sure I even know it myself. Last night I felt some something … for want of a better word, I sensed something off in the Lodge. I have no idea what it was, or even if it was. But I just want to see if something’s changed in the heavens.”
“Um … sure. I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys’s eyes didn’t literally roll, but Elis sensed the virtual roll. He’d learn the truth soon enough, learn that his father wasn’t crazy, and that the Visitors were real. Not long now … If everything Elis was working so hard to arrange came together as planned, come the equinox the whole world would know about the Visitors.
When Rhys headed downstairs, taking coffee and a couple of rolls with him, Elis stayed behind. He didn’t want to hover over him, so he waited at the breakfast table until …
His phone vibrated: Rhys.
“Dad, maybe you better come down here.”
Okay, he’s found something. And it sounds like something he doesn’t like.
With a mixture of dread and anticipation, Elis headed down to the first floor. He found Rhys at his workstation, staring at the screen. And there, centered on the display …
THE DUAD MUST CEASE
Rhys didn’t look up as he spoke. “All last week it said ‘must go’—every freaking day. Now it says ‘must cease.’ What does that even mean? And what happened to make it change?” Now he looked up, his expression stricken. “Did you know about this?”
“I had no idea.”