“He was before my time,” she answered, “but he’s a bit of a legend among the people who really know what’s up. Rumor is he could track anything. He could always lead Helix straight to the creature they were hunting. Without fail.”
“How many people at Helix really know what’s going on?”
“Not many,” Alex leaned back in her chair. “Thousands work for Helix just here in Calm Waters, and most of them are actually doing normal jobs. They have no idea what Helix is really all about.” She checked her watch and saw it was almost 10:30pm. “I know you have more questions. Write them down or something. We’ll talk later.” She got two paper bags to put their food in then walked outside.
“Alex?”
She turned around to face Jack, knowing exactly what he was going to say. One thing she had learned a long time ago was sometimes thoughts weren’t enough. Sometimes people needed to say them out-loud. “What’s up?”
“Thanks.”
“No worries,” she replied. “And look, I’m sorry about holding stuff back from you earlier. I really was going to tell you. We’ll talk about our supposed ‘Insider’ the next time we meet. We need to figure out what he’s all about.”
“When do you want to meet?”
Tomorrow would have been ideal, but she didn’t feel like getting right back into it so soon. “How about Wednesday afternoon? We’ll skip class. I need tomorrow to relax.”
Jack’s eyebrows rose at her words. “I’m kinda scared to ask what a security specialist who can read minds does to ‘relax’.”
“I go to Helix’s underground shooting range,” she said. “What else would I do?”
Chapter Nine
I walked through my front door around 11pm. Aunt Martha was sitting on the couch reading an old paperback novel. The novel had a shirtless man holding a half-dressed woman on the cover, and of course both the figures had long hair flowing in a breeze. I never would have figured my Aunt Martha as the romance novel type.
She didn’t say anything as I walked in, and I didn’t say anything to her. I walked up stairs and threw myself on the bed. I was exhausted, and my head had begun to ache again. I was pretty sure I had a bottle of Advil buried under the disaster of papers and textbooks on my desk. But that would mean getting up, and I really didn’t want to do that right now. I unzipped my backpack that was on the bed next to me and pulled out the papers covered in the symbols.
They still looked like gibberish. Were these actually supposed to be understood, or were they doodles? It all boiled down to whether or not I thought the “Insider” who had called me legitimately wanted to help. Unfortunately I couldn’t know that for sure.
I flipped through page after page. They each were written in that same shimmering, purplish ink, and each page covered from edge to edge with the symbols. None of the pages were identical, but I could pick out that certain symbols were repeated more often than others.
But what did that mean?
The symbols again seemed to swim in my vision. I put them down and rubbed my eyes. Even with my eyes closed the afterimage seemed burned on my eyelids. My headache had moved from dull ache to throb. I sat up and pulled open the greasy bag of food from the diner. Maybe all I needed was a little food. The smell of cold burgers assaulted my nose, and I closed the bag again. Maybe food wasn’t such a good idea after all.
I walked to my desk and rummaged through the mess to find a bottle of Advil. I wasn’t going to last much longer without something to take the edge off the pain. The pills went down with the last bit of water from a bottle.
My mind turned back to my chat with Alex at the diner. I knew I should have a healthy degree of mistrust for her, but I couldn’t help but forgive any errors on her part. She wanted to find my dad, and for me that was good enough.
Hard to believe my dad knew about this crazy supernatural world hiding in plain sight underneath everyone’s noses. And not just my dad, but my grandfather too. My dad had promised to explain something to me when he got back from investigating the “incident” at Helix, and now I wondered if he meant to talk to me about all this.
My grandfather worked for Helix, and then my dad. Both in security. Did my dad have those same goals for me?
I didn’t feel very…security-ish.
Through my open doorway I noticed the closed door leading into my dad’s room. I hadn’t dared go in there since returning from the hospital. I walked quickly to his door and grasped the doorknob. Before I could change my mind, I turned the knob and slipped in.
The room remained exactly how my dad had left it. A pair of shoes lay on their sides at the foot, the bed made. A small bookcase stood against the wall by the room’s single window. Stacked on the bookcase was a random assortment of books describing the occult and paranormal. Strange how little things like a group of books now had a completely different meaning since being exposed to a radically new way of thinking about the world. I used to think these books were hobbies, but now I thought back on my dad’s responses to my comments on them and realized he had been a little happy I still didn’t know the truth…and perhaps a little sad that one day he would have to ruin that small bit of innocence.
I pictured his face. Can you imagine if this stuff were real, dad? I had once asked. It would be insane. The world would go freaking crazy. Good thing it’s all Hollywood crap, right?
Yeah, he had said with a half-smile. Good thing.
On the bottom shelf a group of binders caught my eye. Photo albums. I reached for the album on the far right—the one I assumed would be the newest—then thought better of it and moved towards the opposite end of the row. Talking with Alex about my dad and grandfather had me wondering about the old days I guess.
I’d only flipped a few pages before finding pictures of my grandfather, Wyatt. He resembled an Old West cowboy, which I guess was no surprise since his father had apparently named him after Wyatt Earp. Long mustaches framed a thin mouth. His eyes were clear and light in the black-and-white photo, so I assumed his eyes were blue or green. There was a marked intensity in them, like he was staring straight at me from the picture.
At his side he wore a holstered gun, but I couldn’t tell what kind. What I could tell was the gun looked like it belonged there. He wore it like it was perfectly natural.
I wished I had known him.
My dad talked about him when asked, but he never brought up Wyatt on his own. While I was being born, my grandfather had been in a work related accident. Apparently he died just minutes before I made my grand entrance into the world.
A work accident.
At Helix.
No…
Was I becoming paranoid? What was the saying? It isn’t paranoia if it’s true? Something like that. Given everything I had learned today, and given the culture of lies and cover-ups Helix Corporation seemed to be giving a big thumbs-up to, I was pretty sure his death hadn’t been a simple accident.
It seemed every time I turned around my grasp on what I thought I knew got weaker and weaker. There was nothing I could do about it right at this moment. I could sit here and stare at old family photos, but what good would they do me? I doubted any answers could be found here. Yet at the same time I knew my brain would be spinning like a hamster-wheel all night.
And this freaking headache just wouldn’t fade.
I closed the photo-album carefully—reverently, even—and slid it back into its spot, then walked out the room and closed the door behind me. The room was the way it had been before I entered. Changing anything about the room seemed…wrong.
I paused in the hallway between my dad’s room and my own and rubbed my hands over my face. I don’t think I’d ever truly known exhaustion before that moment. The tiredness I experienced wasn’t just physical—though I’ll admit my body wasn’t exactly doing great—but emotional and mental too. Sure, I could go to bed, but tomorrow I would wake up and have all the same problems. All the same stresses. My dad would still be gone. It was overwhelming, and I spent every shred o
f willpower not sinking to the ground and crying my eyes out on my home’s hardwood floors.
I didn’t have time to sit around trying to recover. That, of course, assumed I actually could get over this feeling of helplessness. It was a depressing thought. I hit the light as I shambled back into my room. I collapsed on my bed again and let my eyes close.
I was asleep within moments.
Chapter Ten
Sleep didn’t stick with me. I woke up every half-hour with new questions. Between thinking of all of the amazing uses of mindreading, I had fantasies of my dad walking through the front door. Then the fantasies dissolved into nightmares about a cop showing up at the door again, this time telling me they’d found my dad’s body.
Soon the clock read 7am, and I realized I had no chance of getting any more rest.
I took a long, hot shower and willed the water to ease some of the ache in my muscles. It seemed to do the trick, and even my head felt a little better. I decided to skip school. I just didn’t feel like dealing with it today. I had bigger things to focus on. Besides, with Alex helping me get into Helix, I didn’t need to worry about all the rules for working students.
I walked quietly down the stairs, not wanting to wake up my aunt. A pointless endeavor since she was already up, fully dressed, and reading the morning newspaper. A bowl, spoon, and box of cereal awaited me on the counter. Did she ever sleep?
“Morning,” I said.
She gave me a raised eyebrow in response.
I ate my cereal, then went back upstairs and closed my bedroom door. It was time for some research, but I didn’t want my Aunt Martha walking in behind me wondering what I was doing with these borrowed—I did plan on returning them eventually—papers full of strange symbols.
A quick glance at my phone showed twenty texts. Geez. I checked for any from Alex, but every single one was from Barry.
DUDE! WHERE R U?
WE NEED 2 TALK…
R U AN IDIOT? CALL ME!
CALL ME U EFFIN MORON!
The texts got worse and worse. Apart from being one of those guys that always texted in all CAPS, Barry was one of those friends that could be really great, or a complete idiot. I’d stopped hanging out with him several times over the past few years. He’d say something dumb, and we’d shove each other until one of us would throw our hands up and walk away. We’d always brush it off later. But those texts pretty much made me want to punch him in the face.
I knew I needed to give him a call back, but I didn’t want to get into it with him right now. I didn’t want to be a complete dirt-bag, so I shot him off a quick text without reading through his messages.
Things are a little crazy. I’ll talk to you later.
I wasn’t the type to abbreviate words in my texts. My brain just couldn’t shorten the words like everyone else did. I tried, but I ended up spending more time trying to figure out the best way to shorten the word than I would have had I just spelled it all out in the first place.
After tossing the phone aside I dropped into the chair in front of my desk and turned on my computer. I pulled up Google and started running general queries on symbology and codes. It proved to be the wrong thing to do as I quickly became overwhelmed and frustrated by the millions of entries popping up, half of which were porn. It made me want to quit for the day even though I’d just started.
Instead, I pulled out the sheets of symbol-covered papers again. No matter what I did or thought about, I always seemed to return to those papers. The answers were there, I just had to figure out the best way to approach them.
Rather than flipping quickly through the pages, I picked up the top page and set to studying it. I took my time, and like always the symbols began making my head pound. Instead of putting the paper down, I continued to stare. The lines of symbols spun and pulsed before my eyes even more than normal, but I forced my focus to remain on them. I tried to see past the odd symbols, pretending it was all an optical illusion.
I could see something.
A face.
I was so shocked I blinked and lost all my focus. Shaking my head to clear it, I set the paper aside. I knew I wasn’t imagining what I’d seen. Maybe that was the key to all of this. Instead of wondering what the symbols meant and how to read them, maybe I should be focusing on something hidden…behind them.
My head was absolutely murdering me now, and my stomach rolled with nausea, making me wish I hadn’t eaten anything. I grabbed my phone again to check the time.
Noon.
Huh. Weird. My phone must be wrong. I moved the mouse around on my desk to get the screen saver off my screen and checked the time in the corner.
Noon.
Holy crap. I’d been staring at that paper for hours. I stood up to walk downstairs, and the next thing I knew I lay on my bed staring at my doorway sideways. I’d fallen, and landed on my bed.
What was going on with me?
I tried to push myself up, and a massive spike of pain shot through my head. Again. This was getting old. I squeezed my eyes shut and reached blindly for my pillow. My hand closed on it, and I pulled it over my head.
Maybe all I needed was a little more rest. I laid there for an eternity. At least. But then I drifted to sleep.
#
I stood in a clearing, redwoods surrounding me. It was nighttime, and through the branches of the trees I could see the crescent of the moon. I remembered the pain in my head and falling onto my bed, so this had to mean I was dreaming. But this dream already seemed more vivid than any other dream I’d ever had.
The air was cold, and goosebumps popped up on my arms. I tried rubbing my arms to restore a little warmth, but my body was unresponsive. I couldn’t do anything other than look ahead into the woods.
I felt like I was waiting for something. Watching for something. It was an odd sensation, and one that didn’t feel like it actually belonged to me. But if not to me, then to whom?
The colors of the forest were vibrant even though it was dark. In fact, the colors seemed a little too vibrant. I shouldn’t have been able to see anything this clearly. Everything had a slight purple tint, the same shade as the ink on the papers the Insider had given me.
In the distance, something moved.
The form moved quickly and purposefully between the trees, seeming unaware of my presence. It stood out as a bright purple blob in the darkness, reminding me of the way people and animals showed up on the infrared goggles the military types always seemed to wear in movies. Only I wasn’t wearing any goggles.
My hands moved without my consent, and I found myself looking down at a revolver. The hands weren’t mine. They were older and rougher, and they handled the pistol with ease and familiarity. They opened the cylinder, running a thumb over the rounds chambered inside before professionally snapping it back into place. What the heck was I doing with a gun? I’d never even held a gun before despite my dad's many offers to take me shooting.
I had a bad feeling about where this was all going.
With cautious steps I began following the figure through the woods. It was a simple process, because not only could I almost always see the figure in the distance, but when I did lose sight for a brief moment I could still see its tracks.
They appeared visually the exact same way my dad's tracks had back in that clearing when all this crazy stuff had started. The tracks shimmered slightly on the ground, and this time I knew it wasn’t because of the light, and neither had my dad’s tracks been tricks of the light. I wasn’t just seeing the tracks—more knowledge didn’t really seem like it belonged to me—I was seeing a residue left by the figure I was following.
What the heck was going on?
My body—though I was pretty sure now I wasn’t in my body—continued forward, trailing the figure ahead. My steps were cautious, and I didn’t want the creature to notice me. Soon my steps took me parallel to a road. An old car sped past, its headlights briefly illuminating the forest ahead. They also illuminated a sign that said "Welcome to Calm Waters
!"
The sign looked different. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew there was something odd about it.
Ahead, the figure paused. It straightened, reminding me of an animal testing the scents in the air. It spun around and stared straight at me before sprinting in the opposite direction. There was a moment where it passed through a clearing ahead, and my hands raised the revolver, and without hesitation pulled the trigger.
#
My eyes snapped open. Sunlight flooded the room. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and rolled out of bed. My head still ached dully, but it was a huge improvement over the pain I'd felt earlier that morning. At least I assumed it had only been a few hours.
I walked over to my desk and turned on my computer. The date in the bottom corner of the screen said it was Wednesday morning, 8am.
I’d been out for a full day.
What was going on with me?
The smell of bacon reached my nose making my stomach growl loudly. I was starving. I walked down the stairs into the kitchen where my Aunt Martha was cooking up breakfast.
“Is it really Wednesday?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“I’ve been asleep for more than a day?” I rubbed my temples. “Weren’t you worried or anything? Geez, I was in a freaking coma or something.”
“Please,” she said with a half laugh. “If there’d been anything to actually worry about, I’d have called a doctor. Eat your food.”
Guess there wasn’t much left I could ask. It was a bit weird, but then again, Martha had always been a little weird herself. She handed me a plate heaped with bacon, eggs, and toast. It looked like enough to feed an entire family. Twice.
"This is a lot food," I said.
"And?"
Good grief. "Uh, and it looks good." I sat down and began shoveling food in my mouth. I was soon out of bacon, and another small plate appeared at my elbow with another half dozen pieces piled on it. It wasn’t until I was staring at an empty plate I realized I’d eaten every scrap of food my aunt had cooked for me.
Residue Page 5