Kindle Series 3-Book Bundle: A Genetic Engineering Science Fiction Thriller Series

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  And with that Alp closed her mind as Mel had taught her and broke the connection.

  Tabitha lay on the ground relishing in her accomplishment. At long last she and Mel were connected. It felt good to know that there was at least one other person in the world who ‘got’ her, who understood and cared for her.

  Mel, where are you? Tabitha asked.

  I’m in the Washington D.C. area right now, Mel answered.

  What are you doing there?

  Just tying up a loose end or two, Mel responded. But more importantly where are you?

  Oh, God, I’m stuck on some tiny island in the middle of nowhere, and I mean that literally. Tabitha went on to explain how the shamans’ juju protected the island of Geluk from detection.

  Are all the others okay? Mel asked. I miss my little sisters.

  Yeah, we’re all okay, although your twin has turned into Ms. Gestapo. She’s now mandated that we’re not to use any of our special powers without clearing it with her first.

  Really? That doesn’t sound like the Alp I know. I’ve always thought her to be a bit too passive, but then again that made it easier for me to manipulate her to my will.

  Well, that’s what we need now, Tabitha responded. We need a strong and fair leader. Someone who isn’t afraid to let us be ourselves. Please come and help us get off this damn island.

  I’d like that, Tabitha, I really would. But I’m not sure how just yet. I mean, if you’re on an invisible island like you said, I might even have trouble finding you.

  Tabitha thought about what Mel said for a few moments, then remembered a conversation she’d overheard earlier that day.

  Mel, I think I know how you can get here, but we’ll need to act quickly.

  After breaking the connection with her father, Alp continued to stand outside the doorway of the Circle of the Shamans' hut. She listened to the tinkling of the mobiles and wind chimes as a mild breeze blew off the ocean. With a final deep breath, she pushed aside the curtain that served as a door. She could smell the rich aroma of incense and burning wood. She also felt the blanket of silence as everyone turned in her direction, followed a second later by a collective gasp.

  She took two steps into the hut and stopped, letting her eyes adjust to the light that came from dozens of candles and a small fire in the middle of the room. To its right lay an old woman covered with a handmade blanket. The multicolored threads reminded Alp of an abstract painting of a rainbow. Next to her knelt an elderly man, his head bent in apparent prayer. Despite the age difference, the man’s resemblance to Damba made it clear to Alp that this must be his father, and the leader of the tribe, Khari.

  No one moved for several seconds until Damba, who had been kneeling beside his mother’s bed next to his father, rose to his feet and started toward her. Before he reached her, a large black man with dozens of strands of beads of both silver and glass stepped between them. He wore his hair in long dreadlocks that also had beads woven into them, and his shirtless frame showed his muscular body that glistened from either sweat or oil or a combination.

  “You cannot be here.” His deep voice resonated through the hut. “Leave now.” Clearly he was someone who was used to his orders being followed without question.

  That’s too bad, Alp thought because she wasn’t planning on leaving just yet. Still, she found the size and air of authority of the man intimidating.

  “Babalawo, it is okay,” Damba said as he stepped around the man. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Damba walked over to Alp. As he reached her, he grabbed her right arm at the elbow and bent down to whisper, “I’m sorry but he’s right. You must not be here.”

  Alp yanked her arm out of his grasp and took a step back. “But I am here, and I can help. You know I can.”

  Damba glanced over to the large man who continued to block their path. “My people will not understand your powers. They will only know it as bad juju. I told you what could happen…”

  Alp pointed beyond the shaman to the frail woman lying on the pallet. “I will not let your mother die knowing that I might have been able to help her. If they toss my sisters and me off the island, so be it.”

  Now it was Alp’s turn to grab Damba’s arm. “Look at me, Damba. Do you really want to be the one to stand in the way of your mother’s recovery? I know you. You’ll never forgive yourself, and neither will I.”

  Releasing his arm, she stepped around him and walked up to the shaman. Craning her neck, she looked straight into his eyes. “Baba, I ask that you use your juju to look within me. Look at my heart and soul. I am not here to harm you or anyone else. I’m here because I’ve been blessed with the power of healing. I do not know for certain whether I can help this woman or not, but I’m here to try. Please, let me help.”

  Baba stared at her for several seconds, a stern look of rebellion frozen on his face. But as he continued to study Alp his expression slowly melted. Finally, he nodded. “I give my permission for you to examine our dearly beloved Malmu. I fear though that she has already traveled too far along her final path for anyone to help her.”

  “I understand,” Alp said as she slowly moved to the woman’s bedside. “If that is the case, so be it. Let me just sit with her for a little while.”

  Several of the other women who’d been watching over their old friend moved to block Alp’s approach. They looked to Baba with quizzical expressions on their faces. With just a moment hesitation, he nodded to them, and they stepped back.

  Alp knelt down on her knees next to the old woman, glancing at Khari for just a moment with a reassuring smile. He didn’t smile back but continued to pray quietly. She gazed at the old woman to make sure that Malmu was still breathing. After a nervous moment, Malmu’s chest raised almost imperceptibly. Good, it may not be too late, Alp thought, but she clearly hadn’t a moment to lose. She took several deep breaths, holding each one for a moment before exhaling. As she did so, she cleared her mind and imagined traveling into the woman’s body as she had with Flip. She felt through the elderly body for imbalances or inequalities in the energy levels.

  She began to get an image of Malmu’s energetic body. She envisioned several small dark places especially in the lungs and heart region that suggested to her unhealthy or malignant tissue. Below this in Malmu’s solar plexus area Alp detected a brighter, higher energy region. The old woman still had life within her. She just needs a little help in redistributing the energy, Alp thought.

  It was exhausting work for Alp as she had to provide some of her own healing power to the process. Each time she revitalized one dark area of the woman’s body, another two would appear somewhere else. She had no idea how long she worked in this way, but the dark spots continued to grow. Finally, the light of Malmu’s solar plexus faded to just a flicker then extinguished completely. Even then, Alp continued to try to infuse her own vital energy into the woman’s body but nothing worked. Malmu’s spirit had left. She was dead. As Alp finally returned to her own body, she noticed the woman’s color had turned to a dull slate gray. Alp put her head down on the woman’s shoulder and wept until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned to find Damba standing over her; tears streaming down his face as well.

  “It’s no use. My mother has crossed over to the other side.”

  Alp nodded, exhaustion almost overwhelming her. “I’m so sorry. I did the best I could but each time I healed one area, another two…”

  “You have killed our Malmu,” Baba interrupted, pushing Damba to the side. His angry face loomed over Alp. “We told you not to be here. Your juju is evil.” He raised his fist as though to strike her, but before he could complete the blow, Damba stepped between them.

  “Enough Baba. Not here, not now. Do not desecrate my mother’s memory with anger or violence.”

  He turned to Alp. “Go now. Go back to your hut and do not leave it for any reason. I’ll be there when I can.” He waved her off then turned back to console his father who continued to kneel next to his dead wife, quiet
sobs of grief rising from him.

  Alp rose, her knees ached, and her legs were half asleep. She stumbled to the door, trying not to look at the angry faces around her. Outside in the cool night air, she broke into a run, catching ragged breaths between the sobs. She did not stop until she was back inside the Shunning House with her sisters.

  Flip's Update

  After his lucid dream encounter with Alp, Flip slept little the rest of the evening. Had it even been a dream, he wondered? It felt so real, like his consciousness had left his body and projected itself to a distant island. Had he really connected with Alp? Was she really on an island somewhere in the Atlantic or had it all been just a figment of his imagination?

  By the time the sun rose in the morning, he’d just about convinced himself it had all been made up. His strong desire to reconnect with at least one of his children had, no doubt, initiated the strange occurrence of the night.

  After rising, he spent the time dressing while he also debated whether to mention anything about the night to Lionel and the others. They all wanted so much to believe that their children were still alive, but what could he really tell them? Would they believe that he’d astrally projected himself to an exotic island where he had a pleasant but uneventful conversation with one of his daughters? Hell, he didn’t know if he believed it himself.

  He rolled himself to breakfast having persuaded himself to keep his mouth shut. He needed something tangible to tell them, not a bunch of hocus-pocus make believe. He sat at the table by himself sipping his coffee and eating an overly sour grapefruit when his three friends entered the cafeteria.

  “Good morning, Flip,” Lionel said as he walked into the cafeteria along with Bridgette and Denise. “Man, you look like hell. Rough night?”

  “I’ll say,” Flip replied as he pushed the grapefruit away from him. Then before he could stop himself, “I think I connected with Alp last night.”

  “You what?” Bridgette asked.

  “Are you sure? What did she say?” Denise added.

  The three of them sat down around him with anxious looks on their faces.

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sure whether it happened or not. It felt real at the time but now…”

  “Where is she?” Lionel asked. All three of his friends leaned in to hear his answer.

  “I don’t know,” Flip replied. “If what happened last night was real, she must be on some island out in the Atlantic, but no island I’ve ever heard of.” He described the surroundings as best he could remember.

  “But that makes sense,” Denise exclaimed. “In her last report to me, Pat said she felt it likely the children were flown to Bermuda, or at least in that direction. And it also follows with Chunk’s report of where they supposedly crashed.”

  “Yeah, but Flip’s description doesn’t fit Bermuda or any of other islands that I know of,” Lionel replied.

  “But this means they’re alive,” Bridgette replied. “Whether we know where they are yet or not, it’s something, right?”

  Denise and Lionel nodded. “Sure, it means something. There’s hope.”

  Lionel reached over and patted Flip on the shoulder. “You’ve got to keep trying. If you’ve connected once, you can do it again.”

  Flip nodded and tried to smile. Had he just given his friends false hope over a silly dream? And what if he had? Wasn’t false hope better than no hope at all?

  Chunk watched as Lucinda carried the tray of coffee mugs over to the kitchen table where he and his two younger brothers sat. Both men were almost as large as their older brother. Though a couple inches shorter than Chunk, they’d both had stayed in shape through the years, having been in the police force for the last twenty years. Mitch had climbed to the level of detective while Capper, the younger of the two eighteen months preferred the life of a cop on a beat. One urgent call from Chunk had brought them running, especially when they heard the tragic news of Misha’s diagnosis. They wore street clothes on Chunk’s urging.

  “This is a family matter; no uniforms,” Chunk said over the phone. “Leave your badges home but bring a weapon, preferably not your service handguns.”

  Now, as Lucinda joined them around the kitchen table, Chunk smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze. He took a deep breath. He’d been planning what to say ever since the idea had come to him, but now with his family members around the table, he was having second thoughts. It sounded hare-brained. Would they think that the news of his daughter’s death sentence had driven him over the edge? He wondered about that himself, but if there was any hope of saving her, he had to try.

  “What I’m about to share with you is highly classified information that cannot go beyond this room. It’s also likely that you will find it hard to believe, but I promise it’s all true. I’ll stake my reputation on it.”

  “What is it, Bro?” Mitch asked. “You know Capper and I will do whatever we can to help Misha.”

  Capper nodded.

  “Okay, good,” Chunk said. He took a final deep breath and started. “A little over two years ago I was assigned a case to investigate a bio-genetics lab in the Research Triangle Park outside Raleigh, North Carolina…”

  He continued talking for twenty minutes. He laid out the essentials of the investigation including the research on the group of children known as the Kindred, and the two other kids that had found their way to Raleigh from West Virginia. As he talked, he watched the faces of Lucinda and his two brothers as their looks of fascination grew into astonishment and later incredulity. He finished by telling them about the video he’d recently reviewed.

  “I know this all sounds far-fetched, but it’s all true. I swear.” He picked up the remote that set on the table in front of him and pointed it at the television on the counter. “I want you to see this yourself.”

  He pressed the play button, and the video began to play. It showed a young girl around ten to twelve years of age standing next to a hospital bed where a man laid with various medical equipment around him.

  “The man in the bed is Flip MacDougal,” Chunk said as the video played. “And the young girl is one of his daughters; the one from West Virginia. Her name is Alp. Now watch closely.”

  As the four of them watched, Alp placed her hands over the still form lying on the bed and held them there. That was all the video showed. She kept them there for several minutes when suddenly the man’s eyes fluttered open, and a moment later he smiled.

  “That’s it?” Capper exclaimed. “No flashing lights, no fireworks, or other special effects?”

  His twin brother glared at him. “Shut up little brother. This is serious.”

  “I know it’s serious. Our older brother has gone bonkers. I was just hoping that his props would have been a little more creative.”

  Chunk sat quietly in his chair, passing the remote from one hand to the other. “I know it may be hard to believe, but I’ll be happy to show you all the other hard data. It’ll prove that the man in this video had been in a coma for over two years. There was also no indication that he’d ever recover, but in the space of several minutes the girl, his daughter, brought him out of it.”

  Lucinda gasped. “And you think…?”

  Chunk smiled. She got it. He knew if anyone would understand, if anyone were willing to grasp at the same straw of hope, it would be his wife.

  “Yes,” Chunk replied. “I believe she could also cure Misha.”

  “But I thought you said Alp and her sisters all died in a helicopter crash out in the Atlantic?” Mitch added.

  “That is the formal report,” Chunk agreed. “But no bodies were recovered. The waters where the crash was reported are hundred of feet deep. All that was recovered was debris. It’s possible that it was dumped from the helicopter in an effort to convince the Coast Guard that it had crashed.”

  The three of them sat there in silence. Finally, Capper spoke up. “Let’s just say for the moment that all this is true. I’m not saying I believe it, but for discussion sake let’s just say it’s
true. How will you find this Alp character? She could be anywhere.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Chunk replied. “But there is someone that can find her, no matter where she is.” He opened the folder in front him and tossed a piece of paper from it onto the table so the others could see it. It was a sketch of a young boy’s face.

  “This is a sketch I had one of our artists draw from my description back while the case was open. It’s a drawing of Alp’s twin brother, Mel.”

  “But didn’t you say he was killed in a fire?” Capper said.

  “We don’t know what happened to him. No body was found,” Chunk replied. “I believe he’s still alive.”

  Lucinda pulled the drawing over to her to take a closer look and gasped a second time. “I recognize him. That’s the boy that’s been stalking me.”

  “Exactly,” Chunk said and sat back. “We find him, and he’ll lead us to Alp.”

  Alp slept little the rest of the night, tossing and turning on the pallet made from old burlap bags stuffed with the course coastal grass. All she could think about was how badly she had screwed up. She had tried to help Malmu and instead she’d killed her.

  Damba will never forgive me, she thought over and over. Is this how our destinies were to be woven together; me killing his mother? As if that weren’t bad enough, it would doubtless mean she and her sisters would now be expelled from the island. It was probably the only place on earth where they could be safe and allowed to make their way in the world without being treated like lab rats or worse.

  Her sisters started to awaken as the sunlight crept through the windows. As Mia and Heather started preparing the morning meal, Alp wanted to put her head under her pillow and never get up. Unfortunately, she had no pillow, and everyone ate their meals in the same room where they also slept, so she had no option but to get up and face the music.

  She walked outside to the latrine where she relieved herself then over to the bucket of water they used to wash up. She threw some water in her face. As she washed, she studied her hands—the same hands that had ended Malmu’s life, that had failed to heal but had instead killed. She walked back into the hut. Everyone was now awake and appeared to be staring at her. Did they already know what she’d done? Had she not guarded her thoughts well enough?