by Patrick Wong
He read the most recent message from DuBois, which had been sent an hour before.
From: Prof DuBois
She has not grown to her full potential yet.
She is also naive, and that will work to our advantage.
Remember, she cannot heal herself.
Find a place where there is no life and she will be disarmed.
Carter continued to review subsequent text messages, and as he read the pair’s conversation, it sent a cold stream of horror through his veins.
To: Prof DuBois
I have her.
But how do I keep her under control?
From: Prof DuBois
No drugs. They may enhance the Balancer’s abilities.
My research shows physical pain and torture will be most effective.
Bishop exhaled heavily.
So that’s why Carter had shot her.
Nicole was the Balancer, whatever that was. And Carter had known about this all along and had been waiting for the FBI to strike in order to take her himself. Perhaps, in all of their years working together, his partner had always been searching for a Balancer.
Nicole Aaronson was clearly special — and dangerous. But why?
He bristled. He felt angry, betrayed and, most of all, more determined than ever to bring Nicole in himself. Not to a place where she would be probed and tested, but to a safe house where he could protect her until he knew exactly who he was up against.
He got on his radio.
“I am issuing a Code Red warning to all active agents. You are to proceed with extreme caution with Nicole Aaronson and Agent Carter. Aaronson has been wounded but may still be a threat. Agent Carter has been compromised and is armed and dangerous.” Bishop slammed his fists on the desk and stared at the messages again.
The field agent reluctantly approached Agent Bishop and tapped him on the shoulder.
“For the love of god, what now?”
“Sir, there is something else you should know. Radar has picked up another craft sharing the airspace with our helicopter. We think it’s a military Predator Drone. But it keeps appearing and disappearing from our radar. I spoke to the other techs and we’ve concluded it has stealth technology that’s beyond our surveillance equipment. It’s more advanced than anything we’ve ever seen.”
“So …. Who’s flying spy drones over my operational theater?” Bishop screamed.
The field agent, and his partner in the shadows just shrugged their shoulders. “No clue. We checked with every agency we know, and they all denied knowledge of the drone. All we know is that somebody else is watching us, and they have better toys than we do.”
This day had just shifted from bad to worse.
When Was This Place?
Nicole could hear Agent’s Carter’s footsteps rapidly catching up to her. She was determined to get to the other side of the scorched part of the woods before he got hold of her again. She had gotten used to the pain in her leg, and it was numbing now because she’d used the brief moments when the agent had been disorientated to bind the gunshot wound with her scarf.
He was fitter than her, and he was now in a blind rage, but Nicole had vowed to get to anybody but him. Striding forward, she suddenly felt herself being pulled back. Desperate, she tried to struggle out of his grasp, but exhausted by her flight, she realized he was simply too strong for her, and she found herself pushed onto the forest floor.
She tried to crawl away, but Agent Carter was quick to react to that too, and he yanked her arms behind her back. He was breathing rapidly, and she could hear the mechanical click of handcuffs.
“Give it up, Nicole. I admire your spirit, but there’s nothing you can do now.”
Nicole shook her head. She wouldn’t — couldn’t — believe that.
She tried to struggle away, crawling through the pine needles and dirt, but he pressed his knee to the small of her back.
She was trapped. She lowered her head and turned it so that the side of her face was resting against the soft pine needles. She could smell the aroma of the resin, and it took her back to the beautiful day of camping before the wildfire.
She shut her eyes and let out a terrible sob then at the thought that perhaps it would all end here, in the gloom and the half-light of the forest where it had all begun.
He was right.
It was over.
She felt her arms droop at this thought, and the fight left her.
“Good girl,” Carter said.
Her mind started to drift away again, just like it had done at the concert.
Nicole then found herself in a cold, dark and damp room somewhere. It didn’t look like any place she had ever been before. The walls were solid rough-cut stone, and the only light was from torches lining the hallway. Strange. There was no sign of anything powered by electricity. Everything was old, but what was most striking was how clean it all was. It seemed a medieval dungeon where rats should be running around among grimy, moss-covered stones, and yet it was as though it had just been built.
In the distance, Nicole caught the sound of running water, possibly a small stream. She could hear the muffled sounds of large crowds of people laughing, chanting and singing. It was as if they were above the stone ceiling, beyond reach.
Where was this place? Or when was this place?
She then saw a girl a little older than herself sitting with her back against the wall. There were chains and shackles nearby, but they were unlocked and unused. Judging by the rags the girl was wearing as clothes, she had lived there a long time. Why didn’t she leave?
The girl seemed to notice Nicole and motioned for her to come closer. Her eyes were tired, but she was glad to see Nicole and she smiled as she spoke.
“There’s still hope for you. Look around. Life exists where you may least expect it. Where there is life, there is hope. Just look closer.”
Suddenly Nicole felt a knee against her back and she screamed. The girl looked momentarily afraid, and then the whole vision melted away.
Nicole opened her eyes.
She was back in the woods. With her face pressed up against the soil and pine needles, in her peripheral vision she saw the agent reach in his trench coat for his cell phone. He was checking his texts again.
As he scrolled down the screen, the light of his phone illuminated something in the distance that Nicole hadn’t spotted before.
She prayed that he would turn his phone toward it again so she could get a better look. She tried to quell her hope and tell herself that she could have just been imagining it.
Carter lifted up his phone to speak. “It’s me. I have her secured — but hurry. I’m finished here. The feds are gearing up to take me, so we need to act fast.”
His voice was so soft, determined. By the tone, he could have been telling his wife to bring the car round.
Just as he ended the call, his smartphone illuminated the ground again, and Nicole saw she hadn’t been imagining at all.
After he’d put his phone away and the darkness was restored, Nicole could just about make out the dim green of new shoots of trees a little farther away in the distance. The circle of life had begun again. In the bleak devastation of the wildfire’s wake, new saplings barely a half-inch tall were sprouting.
Most importantly, Agent Carter hadn’t seen them.
In those moments, as an unknown fate awaited her, Nicole could go only on what she knew. Agent Carter had treated her like an animal in capturing her. She surely couldn’t expect better treatment when he handed her off to this other important man.
It came down to this, then. A stark choice.
“Let me go,” she said firmly. “I’ll give you one last chance.” She tried to turn around, but Carter had put pressure on her back once more, and she couldn’t lift herself. There didn’t seem to be a part of her that didn’t hurt, and her leg was throbbing with the pain of the bullet wound.
Agent Carter just laughed again. “Nice bluff. But you’re finished and you know it.”
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Nicole understood then what she had to do. She began to stare at the distant saplings she had seen earlier by the light of Carter’s phone.
She felt the anger, fear and pain rise up in her chest and pour into the ground. Sure, she could feel ashamed of what she had done. The black-and-white facts were that she had killed and she had sickened. But the truth was far more complex. It had a humility to it that someone like Agent Carter — and whoever he was really working for — could never hope to understand.
She loved and she was loved. She wondered whether Carter could say the same for himself. This made her feel fierce and proud. She focused on the green saplings and thought of all of the people she loved and who loved her. She was Nicole Aaronson, daughter of ER doctor Lucy Aaronson and Investigator James Aaronson. Her favorite food was grilled cheese sandwiches and she loved to read in the sunroom when it rained. If she could swim everywhere instead of walking or running, she would, especially at night when the stars were out and blanketed the sky. Her favorite person in the whole world was Amy Madigan, with her exuberance, kindness and madness. There were too many people whose hearts would break if Nicole disappeared off the face of the earth now, and if it took every breath in her body, she would make sure she saw them all again.
She heard a cry from Agent Carter.
All the while, Nicole kept focused on the fern saplings, which were now growing with the life she was taking and pouring into them. The more she focused, the greater the number of fern leaves that unfurled. As Nicole kept her heart directed at these magnificent leaves with their intricate geometrical structures, she could see that even in this dim gloom, they were blossoming into lush greenery.
“How are you doing this?” Carter screamed out.
The smell hit her then. It was a little like the aroma of a charred burger, and it made her feel nauseated. But she couldn’t stop now.
If Nicole had looked behind her, she may well have wavered. The burning in the agent’s chest looked the red-and-yellow glow of skin over a flashlight.
Carter had seen the photographs of the wildfire animals and knew the inner devastation of Nicole’s power, but nothing could have prepared him for the immense pain he was experiencing. He screamed with howling agony, and it seemed to last an eternity and then suddenly silenced.
Nicole stopped. She imagined herself lying on her back looking at the dark blue sky again. As if she had broken a spell, she felt the agent’s body slump off to the side of her.
It was over.
The FBI was no longer a safe haven after what she had just done. Nicole figured she could either stay and face the consequences, or leave now. Soon the agent’s accomplice would be here and she would be arrested for sure. She needed to move, and fast. She rose to her feet, a little unsteadily at first, noticing the small pall of smoke rising from the agent’s middle as he lay face down in the pine needles.
It didn’t have to be this way.
Nicole’s breathing stabilized quickly. And she lingered a moment longer to study the Balancing effects on Carter’s smoldering body. Nicole pursed her lips to form a wry smile.
“The world is a better place without you.”
With one more glance behind her, Nicole disappeared into the night.
Epilogue
The face of WBN reporter Lynn Meyers appears onscreen, a passenger in the news helicopter. The sound of the blades creates a beat to the image of Lynn looking down at the ground below.
“We’re here above Lake Fairfax, the site of a series of strange occurrences that are baffling scientists across the country.”
The camera zooms in on the aerial view of the Fairfax woods and the tops of the evergreen pines.
“We’re about to fly over the latest mysterious phenomena any second now to give you an idea of its scale. What you’ll see first are the trees, and then the beginning of the scorched land destroyed by the August wildfire, where everything is burned to the ground for acres and acres.”
The aerial shot takes in the blackened, flat earth as it rolls under the helicopter. Then it comes into view: a circular jungle of ferns, small plants and trees that are lush and rich in their vivid greenery.
“As you can see, even from this high up, the difference is striking. These indigenous small plants and trees seemingly sprang up from nowhere overnight. The U.S. Forest Service is now here running tests on the area, which has previously been the site of a series of strange and mysterious events. Experts are calling it a freak act of nature, but many are now asking whether these recent unexplained incidents are indications of an alien presence in the area.”
The screen freezes as the video is paused on the scene of the rings of dense plant life.
“Alien presence? Fools.”
Then, a hand places another pin in a large map of the United States in the section of Lake Fairfax. Nearby are the pins for the wildfire, Flour Mill Run, Mrs. Truman’s backyard, Evergreen Hospital and the Patriot Center. Beside the large map are papers and charts, newspaper and file pictures of Nicole, and reports of the Patriot Center epidemic.
A man steps back from his operations wall, smooths his wiry, silver hair, and rests on the queen-sized bed in his shabby motel room.
Soon the map will be folded down, his papers will be gathered up and he’ll have to be on the move again.
His gaze returns to the laptop, the bloom of ferns frozen like a photograph where he had paused it.
Of course, he knows WBN just isn’t getting it. They never did.
He scans the map of pins again, and a wry smile spreads across his face.
“Well done, Nicole. Very well done indeed.”
Acknowledgements
There are so many people I would like to thank for bringing the story of Balancer to life. I especially want to thank my wife, Karen, for her love, patience and support. Balancer is totally out of my comfort-zone, and yet she stood by me from start to finish. And many thanks to my children, Victoria and Samantha, who provided an endless source of love and humor. They are the balance in my life.
Team Balancer
Story Consultant: Jen White
Jen helped me perfect this amazing storyline which brilliantly moves through the entire range of human emotions. If you cry, laugh, or hang on the edge of your seat… You can thank Jen for helping to make that happen.
Editor: Megan Hirt
Megan’s eye for details is so far beyond my skills. I’m humbled by your markups. Disclaimer: if there are mistakes in this book, it’s due to something I messed-up AFTER Megan reviewed the manuscript.
Beta Readers:
Jennifer Francis, Winston Schuyler, Cynthia Irvine, Jeff Kelly, Bill Snee, Susan Marquis, Michele Perry, Danielle Brown, Amelia Lee.
THANK YOU for reading different versions of Balancer and providing your valuable feedback. You told me when the story bombed, and when the story worked. YOU helped make Balancer a better story.
Facebook Friends:
Big thanks to all my friends on Facebook - for all their help with choosing a Book Cover. And brainstorming for ideas. Everybody has been so great and supportive of my efforts. THANK YOU.
About the Author:
Patrick Wong is the author of Balancer, the first in The Final Deity series of books. He's a graduate of James Madison University and lives in the Northern Virginia area with his wife and two daughters. By day, he's a computer software developer for major corporations and government agencies. By night, he's a indie author.
Like at www.facebook.com/balancer.book or send a message to [email protected]
Table of Contents
Wild Arm Gestures
Plead Wha?
Run, Don’t Walk
Forest Floor and Amy
Please, Not the Water
Tummy Rub
Mean Hot Chocolate
Stifle That Belch
It’s the Feds
IamA Real-Life Hero, AMA
Lost for Words
Smells Fishy
Nicole and Fri
end
Your Friendly Neighborhood Hero
Alien Invasions
Pancakes of Friendship
Zero to Hero
Conspiracy Theorists
A Box Marked “Weird”
Bob Can’t Come to the Phone Right Now
Do That ThingWith the Thing
Please Step AwayFrom the Zoo
Hairball and Freckles
Agreeing to Disagree
That’s a Federal Crime
Stop, Stop, Stop, Stop, Stop!
That Sorta Sucks
Anchovies Are Not a Laughing Matter
Where’s the Flower Donation Box?
Set Aside theScarier Thoughts
A Side Order of Fries
Feigning Panic
It’s the Makeup Girl
Hiding in Plain Sight
Now Don’t Get All Happy
At the Gates
Being Amy Madigan
Peace With Donuts
Pink and Sparkly
Just Some Field Research
Let Them Eat Cake Crumbs
The Chosen Ones
A Bucket of Cola Will Make You Feel Great
Happy Now?
I’m Actually a Fan
X Marks the Spot
Don’t Fence Me In
Bye
Not as Cool as Batman
Blessing in Disguise
Oscar-Worthy Performance
A Greater Power
Eye of the Needle
Just Say No
When Was This Place?
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About The Author