Heat Wave

by Denise A. Agnew

  “I’m here.”

  “Something’s keeping the door closed. It’s either locked or blocked.”

  She drew in a deep breath again. “I’ll go inside the house and found out.”

  “No! It isn’t safe.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “You may have to.”

  “I tried calling 911 already. No signal.”

  She trotted around the side of the house, hearing him call her name again. She ignored him.

  She took the front porch with caution as boards groaned under her feet. She prayed the wood wouldn’t open up beneath her. She noted the front door was open a crack. The door shrieked like a banshee as she eased it open. She almost tiptoed her way into the ruins of a once opulent home. As she gazed at the jumble of old furniture stacked haphazardly in the tall foyer, dust motes floated in the air. She glanced to her right, and a white form stood near the doorway. She gasped and stepped back. It took her a second of stark fear to recognize a coat rack covered by a white sheet.

  “Shit,” she whispered under her breath.

  She swung her gaze to the left, but the door was closed on that room. She headed toward the back, hoping the floor under her would remain solid. The wood didn’t creek, and she drew some relief from that.

  When she reached the kitchen area she glanced around for a door that might lead to a basement. She found a door with a hutch shoved in front of it. She pushed the heavy object, grunting and straining as she tried to move it out of the way. As the wood scraped across the floor, she grunted with the strain.

  “Damn it!” She shoved and shoved and the furniture made a horrendous noise as it moved an inch, then another inch. She continued pushing until she had to take a break. She used the flat of her hand to pound on the part of the door she’d uncovered. “Jeremy! I’m moving this thing away from the door but it’s taking time. It’s so damned heavy.”

  “Okay!”

  She could barely hear his acknowledgement, but at least she knew he was still all right. She put her hands on her hips as her pulse continued to race and her heart banged in her chest. After a short rest, she continued the fight to move the hutch. Finally after a good while shoving and wrestling the object into submission, she had to take another break.

  “It’s too heavy!” she heard him shout.

  “All right! I’ll go outside and try getting a signal again.”

  She heard a creak behind her and her heart shot into her throat. She swung around as an older man somewhere in his sixties or seventies walked into the room. Impressions flew at her. Tall, well built for his age. Shaggy salt and pepper hair curled around his head and over his ears. A snowy white chest-length beard covered part of his olive green shirt. Tattered green fatigue pants went with the scuffed black combat boots on his feet. At first he looked like a homeless man but his clothes were way too clean and his face didn’t look as used up and battered. A black rifle was cradled in his hands.

  Oh, crap. Her racing heart jammed into her throat.

  “What are you doing here?” the bearded man asked.

  “Cassidy!” Jeremy’s concerned voice came from down below.

  “It’s okay,” she said, “I think someone is here to help us!” She swallowed the hard lump in her throat as she directed her next statement to the other man. “I hope you can help us.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be here,” the man said.

  She didn’t move, afraid of what he might do. “We know.” Something told her to be honest. “We’re investigating the hum. My friend fell through to the basement.”

  The man sighed and eased his body posture slightly. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Cassidy. My friend is Jeremy Tate.”

  The man’s eyes hardened, his lips going thin and harsh. “Tate? Any relation to Richard Tate?”

  She bristled a little, wondering if this man would hold that against Jeremy. She tried to shrug off fear. “Yes. Jeremy is his son and a deputy sheriff.”

  The man nodded, but his gaze stayed skeptical. He locked eyes with her, and for a wild moment she almost believed he could read her mind.

  “I heard about Jeremy,” the man said. “Doesn’t seem like the sort of person who’d do what his father did to those poor women.”

  “Of course not. Jeremy’s nothing like his father.”

  “I know,” the man said.

  How could you know? She wanted to say the question out loud but didn’t.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  The man hesitated a moment, looking as if he wouldn’t answer. “Michael Hexley.”

  Mike Hexley. Shit. I thought he was dead.

  “Cassidy!” Jeremy’s voice sailed from downstairs. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s okay, Jeremy! We’re working out how to get to you!”

  The man walked to an old table nearby and carefully lowered his weapon to the surface. “I’ll help you with the hutch.”

  Despite the man’s eccentric appearance, she noticed he didn’t reek like a homeless man. Eager to free Jeremy, she ignored the creepy factor that this man had a big weapon at his disposal and that he acted as if he owned the place. Well, maybe he did. Arliss Hexley, the man who’d gone stark raving crazy here many years ago, was Mike’s father. Groaning with the effort, Mike and Cassidy pushed the hutch to the side and uncovered the basement door. She opened it, and saw Jeremy standing two steps down.

  She smiled at him. “Hey.”

  His answering smile showed relief. “Hey.”

  He made it up the remaining steps in record time and enveloped her in his arms. They held each other in silence. He fisted her hair, holding her head against his shoulder, his cheek against her hair. He felt so damn good and so solid.

  She drew back and his arms slid around her waist. She bunched his shirt in one fist. “You scared the hell out of me. Are you okay?”

  Dirt was smudged across his forehead and a small abrasion marred the area above his right eye. “I’m okay. I was dazed when I fell through. Boards and shit fell on me, but believe it or not I landed on this old mattress.” His lips twisted. “I could burn these clothes when I get home.”

  She matched his grimace. “That bad?”

  “That bad.” He looked at the other man, eyes a bit narrowed. “Hi. Thanks for helping her.”

  Mike nodded and put his hands on his hips and repeated what he’d said to Cassidy moments before. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

  Jeremy released her and positioned himself between the man and her. It was an overt move, but a subtle adjustment of his body so he was half in front of her. “I know. We’re investigating the hum.”

  “That’s what she said,” Mike said. “Doesn’t make any difference. Damn people get killed out here if they don’t watch out.”

  “There hasn’t been anyone die here since my father murdered those three prostitutes.” Jeremy’s words came out quietly and calmly.

  Her hand palm touched his back, somewhere between a warning to stay calm and non-threatening. They still didn’t know much about this guy. “Jeremy this is Mike Hexley.”

  She couldn’t see Jeremy’s expression from this angle, but his words rumbled through her fingers, which stayed firmly on his back.

  Jeremy put his hand out. “Pleased to finally meet you Mike. I didn’t know…I’d heard that--”

  Mike shook his hand. “Yeah. Everyone thought I offed myself a long time ago. Which is funny as hell considering I’ve been into town to get supplies. Yeah, I live off the land, but I ain’t that much of a survivalist.”

  “And people don’t recognize you,” Jeremy said. “I’ve heard other guys in the sheriff’s department talk about you, but nobody knew that you’re Mike Hexley.”

  Mike shrugged. “Don’t much care what people know or don’t know. As long as they don’t hurt the property and stay away.”

  “Are you the ghost people have seen in here?” she asked.

  Mike chuckled. “Hell, probably. Dumb ass teenagers c
ome in here and I do my best to scare them. Even some of those so-called ghost hunter type people. I’ve scared the shit out of them a few times, too.”

  Amusement remained in his eyes, and she had to smile along with him. “Mystery of the ghost solved.”

  She sensed there was a lot more to this story, and Mike continued. “I’ve been moving around this six-hundred acres for years and often if people got too close I went into the mountains. Kept moving so no one could find me. Not that I think anyone tried very hard.”

  She guessed Mike was in his seventies somewhere, but he seemed to move with the ease of a much younger man. “Do you live…in a tent?”

  To her surprise, Mike smiled. “I can make a shelter whenever I need it. I have supplies and all I need I get off the land.”

  Jeremy stayed put, as if he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about this man. She didn’t feel any vibes off Mike that said he’d harm them, but there was the big weapon on the table.

  “That thing loaded?” Jeremy asked as if he’d read her mind.

  A twinkle entered Mike’s dark eyes. “Yep.”

  As a law enforcement officer Jeremy might have a lot to say about the legalities of the weapon, but he didn’t seem interested in pressing the issue. “Thanks again for helping me get out of the basement. And sorry for trespassing.”

  “No problem,” Mike said. “I can see you meant no harm.”

  She decided to take things a little further and press her luck with a question the man probably didn’t expect. “Have you heard of the hum?”

  Mike smirked and his eyes showed pure amusement. “Have I heard of it? I created it.”

  Eight

  Cassidy felt her mouth flop open, and Jeremy’s muscles stiffened under her touch.

  “You created it?” Jeremy asked, his tone full of doubt.

  Mike tilted his head to the side. “That’s what I said.”

  “How?” she asked, the cynical side of her coming into play.

  Mike stared at them a moment. “It’s getting dark. Maybe this isn’t the best place to tell you this story.”

  She rubbed her arms. “It’s getting cool in here anyway.”

  Jeremy shifted and turned to slip his left arm around her shoulders. “Where do you propose we go?”

  “I’d say to my last campsite, but that’s too far. I saw your SUV. We could sit in there,” Mike said. “Don’t worry. I won’t take my weapon with me. It’ll be safe enough here for the moment.”

  This statement seemed to ease Jeremy’s mind. With his weapon secure in a holster on his hip, Jeremy could feel fairly confident. “All right. After you.”

  With the older man leading the way, they headed to the SUV. Cassidy admitted to herself she felt safe under Jeremy’s possessive hold. At the same time, she didn’t know what Mike had in mind or if he was even sane. Other than the slightly odd way he dressed, like a refugee from the Vietnam War who’d lived in the jungle too long, Mike seemed clear-headed.

  When they piled into the SUV, Mike sat in the back and they sat in the front. As the sun crept down until it touched the mountaintops, they listened to Mike’s story.

  “Okay,” she said, eager to continue. “You said you created the hum. How and why?”

  “I created it because I can. My father could make the hum, too. He just chose not to,” Mike said.

  “So the rumors about this place are true?” she asked in disbelief. “I mean that the military did secret experiments here?”

  “Yep.” Mike sighed. “They did.”

  “Did they experiment on you when you were a kid?” she asked.

  “No. My dad went crazy later, but when I was a kid he was a pretty good dad.”

  “Yet your father worked for the military,” Jeremy said.

  Mike’s attention shifted to Jeremy. “Mom and I didn’t know what the military was doing on the property. Dad would come home from work and act like he didn’t know any secrets, but we understood that was bullshit when he said he worked on classified projects and that’s why he couldn’t tell us.”

  Curiosity rose higher inside her. “When did things change for you? When did you learn his secrets?”

  Mike pursed his lips for a second and glanced at the Jeremy. “You got a smart lady here. Hope you appreciate her.”

  Jeremy locked eyes with Cassidy for a second and smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

  Warmth spread through her at the sincerity in Jeremy’s agreement. “He’s a pretty nice guy, too. Think I’ll keep him for now.”

  Mike cleared his throat. “Figured so. That SUV was rocking a lot when I first saw it.”

  Additional heat burned her face as his meaning hit her full force.

  Jeremy said, “Look we—”

  “Don’t care.” Mike waved one hand in dismissal. “I’m not interested in what you do in the privacy of your SUV.”

  “You were spying on us?” Cassidy asked in mortification.

  Mike’s mouth tilted up at one corner. “I almost came up to the SUV when I saw the way it was moving. That’s when I figured I’d better leave you alone.”

  “Thank God.” Jeremy’s eyes sparked with good humor.

  “Um…,” she said, eager to leave embarrassment behind. “Back to the topic at hand.”

  Mike scratched his chin. “I signed up for the air force when I was eighteen before Vietnam happened. So instead of getting jungle rot, I followed the military to the munitions area and that’s where I discovered the world my father was really involved in. Remote viewing wasn’t the half of it. They turned me into a psychic warrior.”

  Cassidy exchanged disbelieving glances with Jeremy.

  “Did your father influence them to bring you into a psychic program?” Jeremy asked.

  “Yes.” Mike spoke without hesitation, his voice filled with strong conviction. “When I realized the type of work my dad was in, I was blown away. I’d never believed in that stuff, and I thought he didn’t either.”

  Jeremy grunted. “I’m not sure I believe in it now.”

  “I’ll give you a little demonstration soon,” Mike said as if he spoke of showing off a new appliance he’d bought. “They took me into the fold and showed me that if a person was properly trained, they could open up parts of their brain they didn’t know they had.”

  “I thought that was all fifties stuff. Mind control, et cetera,” Cassidy said.

  Mike laughed, the sound gravely and without real humor. “Sure, they did that. Lots of different things. All trying to get one up on the Soviets.”

  “Hush hush,” Jeremy said.

  “Yep.” Mike slid down in his seat, his legs sprawled. “They were looking for people with the right abilities.”

  “Such as?” she asked.

  “Men and women who’d proven they had clairvoyance, you name it. There were even a few mediums in there. Everyone went through evidential experimentation. We had to show scientifically how accurate we were with our skills. When my father was in on the experiments starting in the fifties he discovered he could do something more extraordinary than any of the other test subjects. Blew away the officials. They couldn’t believe it.”

  “Your father was a psychic?” Jeremy asked.

  “Damn right.” Mike clasped his hands over his stomach and twiddled his thumbs. “I suspected he was, but he said he wasn’t…not until I got into the military program, and he showed me what he could do.”

  “Your father trained you?” Cassidy asked.

  “Hell, no.” Mike shook his head. “I was put into a newer program, something more cutting-edge.”

  She glanced over at Jeremy and saw the continued skepticism clear in his expression.

  Jeremy said, “Don’t tell me. There was drugs involved? LSD?”

  Mike leaned his head back against the seat. “Nope. Nothing like that. Maybe the CIA did some of that sort of thing, I don’t know. Could be all bullshit. But I did learn how to control a lot of things in my environment, including using a technique designed to get humans to do
strange things. It failed miserably because humans are too damned stubborn on average to be controlled that way. But sometimes I still muck around with it just to amuse the hell out of myself.”

  Comprehension dawned on Cassidy like sunlight coming over a horizon. “The hum. That’s why you said a short time ago that you created it.”

  Mike looked amused. “Yep.”

  “If that’s true, how?” Jeremy asked, clearly impatient with the stalling.

  Mike twiddled his fingers again, his eyelids at half-mast. “I’ve got some extraordinary telekinetic abilities. When I move things with my mind, it creates an amazing sound. Something otherworldly. My guess is there are quite a few other people around the world that can move objects with their mind.”

  “Telekinetics.” The word slipped off her tongue easily, but belief in it didn’t. “I don’t believe in that.”

  “Neither do I. Why would some people be able to hear the sound and not others?”

  Mike held his hands up. “That I don’t understand. Neither does anyone else. Look, it’s getting dark out and it’s time for me to camp somewhere for the night. I also don’t have time to show you everything. But I can show you a little.”

  Curiosity flooded her mind. “Wait. Why didn’t you move that hutch away from the door with your mind?”

  “Because between the two of us it was easier than me doing it by telekinesis. I didn’t say it was easy to move things. Just that I can.”

  Jeremy’s face still held a lot of doubt. “Okay, show us.”

  “All right. A small demonstration. Someone got a pen?” Mike asked.

  Mike nodded. “In the glove compartment.”

  Cassidy searched and found the pen. “What do we do now?”

  Mike closed his eyes and folded his hands over his stomach. “Hold the pen in the palm of your hand so that I can levitate it. It’ll take me a few minutes.”

  Doubtful, Cassidy did as requested. She took a deep breath and willed her patience to hold. What if this guy was mentally ill and making this all up? Mike kept his eyes closed and took one deep breath after another. Three minutes seemed like an eternity. She glanced at her watch at four minutes. What if this didn’t happen? Seconds later the hum started.