Between Two Minds: Revelation

by D C Wright-Hammer

  Table Of Contents

  Prologue: The Gateway Drug

  Chapter 1: Over and Out

  Chapter 2: The Right Conductor for the Job

  Chapter 3: Pure Minds United

  Chapter 4: On the Cusp of Greatness

  Chapter 5: What Lies Beneath

  Chapter 6: Better Safe than Sorry

  Chapter 7: Family First

  Chapter 8: A Thin Line Between Love and Fate

  Chapter 9: You Got Some Explaining to Do

  Chapter 10: Observe and Reflect

  Chapter 11: To Helen, Back Again

  Chapter 12: The Man Behind the Curtain

  Chapter 13: What Dreams May Come

  Chapter 14: Shifting Between Two Minds

  Chapter 15: Through the Looking Glass

  Chapter 16: God, Backwards

  Chapter 17: A Host in the Darkness

  Chapter 18: Body, Mind, and Spirit

  Chapter 19: Awakening the Unknown

  Chapter 20: The Art of War

  Chapter 21: A Shift in Perspective

  Chapter 22: Just Passing Through

  Chapter 23: Riddled with Pain

  Chapter 24: Return of the King

  Chapter 25: Back in Black

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  (Book Two) Between Two Minds: Revelation

  Copyright © 2018 by D. C. Wright-Hammer

  All characters and events in this book, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  1. FIC028010 – FICTION / Science Fiction / Action & Adventure

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  First Edition

  For my parents

  Hey,

  It’s Ryan. I don’t have much time before he comes back, so I need you…anyone, to listen. A lot has happened since Helen and I escaped the burning Oceanic Laboratories building. We tried to move on with our lives, but…well…nothing is what it seems. I mean none of it. Not Charlie. Not ADG. Not mind migrations. Nothing!

  The following is the best attempt to get you up to speed in preparation for the trials ahead. Some of what you’ll read happens before Helen and my encounter with the Padre, and other parts take place after. Some of the accounts come straight from me and my experiences, and some of them were documented by other people. I know it all sounds crazy, but I’m going to need you to trust me. You’ll be surprised that many of the truths revealed here were hiding in plain sight the whole time. In the end, it will all make sense.

  Now, there is one last thing you must know. Something so vitally important, it could mean the difference between life and death. Never let your guard down, or he—

  Prologue:

  The Gateway Drug

  “What the hell is this?! A morgue?!” Sergeant Coyote Royal shouted within the makeshift room in the factory.

  Coyote and Corporal Sierra Hotel had thought Bravo Company was storming a factory containing drugs and standard munitions. They had eliminated all but two hostiles when an unknown gas was used on them. It knocked out everyone but Coyote and Sierra. As they moved through the factory killing the remaining enemies, what they’d found was shocking: a stockpile of gas canisters in a food crate. Stranger yet, they had entered a bizarre, refrigerated room in the middle of the factory floor.

  The room was much smaller than it appeared from the outside. Columns of handles, three deep, lined the three walls. The room felt like a giant, cold filing cabinet. Given the odd nature of the mission up to that point, they had no idea what to expect and were already on edge. But none of that mattered. Nothing could have prepared them for what they found.

  Looking into the drawer below him, Coyote’s shock made him drop the cover he’d pulled off, and it fluttered to the floor. The morbid contents forced Coyote to look at Sierra in concern, though he mostly needed an excuse to avert his eyes.

  Sierra only grunted in revolt. Her stare never wavered as she attempted to process what was before her. “This wasn’t done by amateurs.” Her heavy breathing fogged up her auto-mask. She tapped the side of it, and it slid back into her pack.

  Coyote turned his head back to the drawer and blinked rapidly in disbelief. He’d seen horrible things during the war. Hell, he’d done things that haunted him, but what was in front of him at this moment was unspeakable, and still countless gruesome words filled his mind.

  Marines, by definition, were as hardcore as they came. These particular troops had been steeled in intense battle. Their resolve was the stuff of legends. Yet they stood paralyzed by their discovery. Neither Sierra nor Coyote had suffered significant bodily injuries that night, but the room they were standing in helped to confirm Coyote’s earlier premonition.

  No one would return from the mission unscathed.

  Laying before them was something far from a typical corpse. The first layer of skin had been delicately removed from head to toe. The eye sockets were empty. The muscle tissue of the chest had a large, stitched-up Y-incision, usually indicating that an autopsy had been performed, but both marines doubted it was that cut and dry. Then, based on the condition of the body, Coyote and Sierra simultaneously looked at each other and connected the dots.

  Reaching for the mouth, Sierra gently parted the raw lips and pulled the jaw down. Again, the stomachs of the normally fierce warriors were turned. But anger fought its way through Coyote’s nausea. “Those damn butchers don’t want us to know who they are!”

  Sierra continued her thought in hopes that it would calm him. “I’m hoping these bodies…” She shook her head and shuddered. “…people have DNA on file.”

  The word people echoed through Coyote’s head as he stepped back to take in the room again, having discovered its true nature. He tried his hardest to keep it together and gather his thoughts, but instead, all he saw were the drawers surrounding him. He’d gotten a steady dose of indoctrination on why he should hate the enemy, but in that moment, his mind was spinning trying to decipher the type of people that would do such heinous things to other people. When no answers came to mind, he stepped back until he was against another wall of drawers. At the same time, the temperature in the room had risen enough to become noticeable, and the stench of flesh was getting more pronounced. It quickly became difficult for the marines to breathe, and that was when Coyote snapped.

  “This is bullshit!” He darted toward a second drawer, pulled it out, and ripped off the cover to reveal a similar body.

  Sierra, still stunned, could only watch as he did the same to another. Then another. Then another. The space became crowded with open drawers, and Coyote huffed and puffed i
n the stink of the room. He was about to lose his mind, but HQ interrupted over their walkies.

  “Bravo Company, the building parameter is secure. Your medevac and decontam teams are in position up front. How are things inside? Over.”

  Coyote took a deep breath and looked at Sierra. He clenched his jaw and nodded to her, signaling for her to respond. She wasn’t sure how to tell HQ what they had found, but knew she needed to say something. “Roger, HQ. Let decontam know they’ve got their work cut out for ’em. There’s a…big mess in here. Over and out.”

  The two marines stumbled out of the grisly room, but Coyote’s mind continued to swirl, still unable to process what he’d just seen. He wanted to run away and blow up the factory at the same time. When his conflicting feelings reached a pinnacle, he dropped to his knees, his breathing even more erratic than before.

  Sierra knelt next to him. “Woah! Slow down, Coyote! Breathe!”

  But her words were muffled to him, almost to the point that they were inaudible. He squirmed a bit and then fell back to the ground in slow motion. No matter how hard he fought it, his mind kept revealing corpse after corpse. As it did, something strange was happening within him. The slideshow of death was conjuring up something deep within his mind. He wasn’t even sure if the memory was real or something he’d made up. Whatever it was, it felt like it was from his distant past, perhaps a memory he didn’t even know he had. Even more peculiar, the recollection shifted at one point to be from someone else’s perspective, a third person. It was enough to shake Coyote to the core, and his consciousness began eroding.

  Sierra tried like hell to keep him from slipping away. “Coyote! Breathe! Come on Coyote, Breathe!”

  Coyote stared up at the ceiling of the factory and blacked out.

  His vision returned as quickly as it had disappeared, but he was no longer on the factory floor looking up. Instead, he found himself in an infinite void of blackness. He spun around to orient himself but had no frame of reference. Suddenly, an obscure, white figure appeared in the distance. Before he could call out, the figure let loose a raspy hiss that spoke directly to Coyote’s soul.

  “I must save you from yourself, Charlie. Your enemies will pay.”

  Sierra was looking into Coyote’s still-open eyes as he convulsed. After a moment, his eyes rolled back into his head, and she panicked, thinking the med team wouldn’t get there in time. She positioned herself under Coyote’s head and shoulders and held him tightly, trying to stop him from hurting himself. As volatile as the situation was, the trembling man in her arms instantly reminded her of the reasons she’d enlisted in the first place. The thoughts helped her stay calm.

  After a few moments, Coyote’s episode stopped abruptly, and he went limp. Sierra’s instincts kicked in, and she flung her pack from over her shoulder, reached in, and pulled out a packet of smelling salts. She hesitated, scared of what might happen next. She thought for a good few seconds, but true to her training, she followed protocol. She cracked open the packet and shoved it under Coyote’s nose.

  Coyote exploded into consciousness and popped up from the ground, sending Sierra reeling. Without a word, he dashed like mad toward the rear exit of the factory.

  Sierra struggled to get upright. “Goddamn it, Coyote! Where the hell are you going?!”

  He burst through the door just as Sierra had finally gathered herself enough to pursue. She came to the door, pushed it open, and spilled into the alleyway. She looked left into the dark and then to the right. Coyote was gone. Trying to find him was not an option.

  She put her hands on her knees, more dumbfounded than worried. At that realization, she stood up, took a deep breath, and zombied back into the factory. The medevac and decontam crews descended onto the factory floor and quickly made their way to her.

  “Corporal, your vitals are elevated. Are you okay?” The medic’s voice was muffled through his gas mask.

  Sierra gave the faintest of nods to the medic.

  A decontam technician approached her. “Please mask-up, Corporal.”

  She complied, and the tech sprayed her with a neutralizing agent to eliminate any risk of chemicals on her clothing.

  She removed the mask and slowly wandered toward the front of the factory. She passed the female combatant she’d shot, who was being tended to by the med team. She passed the nearly halved remains of a male combatant who must have had the misfortune of meeting Coyote on his A-game. No one bothered with him. When she arrived where her crew had been gassed, she stopped. They’d already been evacuated, and the area scrubbed, but she felt as if their presence still lingered. It made her heart hurt, but she knew there was nothing she could do.

  Sierra mindlessly wandered out of the building and deliberately headed toward the transport truck then climbed in and walked to the seat closest to the back of the cab. She sighed and plopped down. She couldn’t help but look at the seven empty seats around her. She thought about the conversations she and her crew would be having had they all made it out. She thought about the jokes they’d be telling on the ride back to the base. She wondered if Bravo Company would ever be remotely the same.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the driver of the truck pounding on the glass that separated him from Sierra. Succumbing to habit, she glanced back at the barren space, frowned, and pounded back on the glass. The driver waved, and the vehicle jolted to life as the diesel engine roared.

  Before the truck had even begun to move, HQ radioed Sierra. “Sierra Hotel, we’ve lost data sync from Coyote Royale. Please confirm his status. Over.”

  She peered out of the back of the truck and sighed. She shook her head.

  “Sierra Hotel, do you copy? Over.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, HQ. Coyote Royale is…AWOL…again. I repeat, Coyote Royale is AWOL again. Over.”

  “Roger that, Sierra. Over and out.”

  The trucked rumbled along, and Sierra sat back, trying to get some relief from the bizarre events that had taken place. Unsurprisingly, all she could think about was the other time that Coyote had disappeared.

  Bravo Company’s first big mission had been to assist with the initial push into the city of Quetta. After a serious round of shock and awe, they were ordered to seize the opportunities created by the chaos. They were to find any rogue sects and eliminate them, so that the big guns could just come in and set up shop.

  The squad had moved in the shadows of the night as hundreds of buildings were still smoldering. They hadn’t stopped until they came to the city’s epicenter, which was reminiscent of a downtown area in the states, known locally as the Grand Bazaar. Most merchants had fled days prior as word spread of impending air strikes. The only ones left had been either militants who wanted a fight or the destitute who lacked the resources to leave. The problem was telling the two apart.

  Bravo Company had been led by Delta Mike, the toughest marine anyone had ever met. Defying contradiction, he was also the gentlest man when not in a combat situation. He knew that his being from an invading country put the locals in an impossible position, so he took the time to become fluent in the local languages and dialects.

  Settling on the edge of the darkness, Bravo Company happened upon a small group of seemingly unarmed men who were checking the shops and tents for anything left behind. With the team’s weapons pointed for cover, Delta had approached. His initial words had startled many of the men, and they’d vanished into various inlets of the burning city, but two of them stumbled and fell in their attempts to flee. They’d rolled over and scooted back in sheer terror. Despite Delta being the only one who understood their language, the entire squad was familiar with the sound of praying for one’s life.

  Delta had apologized for causing them such dread as well as interrupting their subsequent prayers. He continued by taking a knee and stating that the only ones who should fear the foreign troops were the militants who had held the city hostage for ye
ars.

  The local men had sighed in relief that their lives weren’t being threatened. Still, they’d been in no hurry to make friends with the man carrying the automatic assault rifle.

  “We have always been against the extremists,” said one of the men in his language, “because they would rather see the world burn than give up power. Now look at our city. Who should we be against now?”

  Delta had expected such a response and said, “The sooner we get rid of them, the sooner we can rebuild. Then, we’ll leave. Where are the militants?”

  Both men had looked at each other and trembled. One of them lifted his arm, ready to point Delta in a direction.

  Boom!

  An explosion behind Bravo Company had spewed fire, shrapnel, and renewed anarchy. The local men scurried away as the squad spun around and hit the ground to return fire into the carnage. Sierra had had her finger firmly on the trigger, shooting round after round when she’d felt the urge to glance over her shoulder. Delta Mike had been nowhere in sight. Even stranger, Coyote Royale was lying motionless on the ground where Delta had spoken with the men.

  She’d ceased firing, crept out of cover, and looked in all directions to confirm there were no immediate threats, then spoke over the walkies. “Bravo Company. Delta is missing. Coyote down. Someone cover me. I’m going to investigate.”

  Just like in the factory, she had used smelling salts to revive him, and Coyote had bolted off deeper into the city, leaving his squad behind.

  Delta was never seen again. They’d never even recovered his dog tags. The crew feared they’d lost both men. Out of nowhere, Coyote had reappeared in his bunk two days later with a few bumps and bruises but otherwise in good health. Oddest of all, he had no recollection of the events leading up to his unconsciousness or of disappearing into the city.

  Sierra realized that both times she’d communicated Coyote’s disappearances to HQ, they seemed to shrug it off. She wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but she hated losing any squad mates, especially ones like Coyote. She’d grown fond of him in the ten months since they’d been stationed together, but it wasn’t romantic, despite the rumors that circulated. Something inside of her told her that she’d see him again, just like last time.