Threshold Series (Book 1): Threshold

by Luquer, David

  It had rained nearly every night for the past week, leaving the ground unable to absorb any more moisture. How this area was keeping from flooding, he had no idea. Somehow, the soil was managing to take in the remaining water each day, only to be soaked again in the evening.

  After running across the parking lot and being drenched by the pelting rain, he eagerly pulled the door open and slid behind the steering wheel as quickly as he could. He slammed the door shut and wiped the excess water from his face with the palms of his hands. He turned the key and let the car run for a few minutes to warm up before shifting it into gear and pulling out of his parking spot.

  Even with the windshield wipers on the fastest setting, they couldn’t seem to keep up with the downpour. Squinting his eyes, he did his best to see in front of the car. Fog mixed with the rain to diminish the visibility even further.

  “Dammit!” he yelled. “I can’t see shit in this weather.”

  The tires slid on the wet surface, causing him to nearly lose control. He gripped the wheel and uttered a string of curses as he fought to correct. The tires once again gripped, straightening the car. Johnson left out a long breath, relieved that he hadn’t ended up off the shoulder. Directly below him was the cemetery. The thought of spiraling out of control and into the gravestones was a terrifying thought to him.

  Before he could feel at ease, the tires slipped again, sending him spinning. The car turned in circles for what seemed like an eternity before he was sent backward and into a tree. The impact sent his head backward, then forward and into the steering wheel.

  * * * *

  Joel Spence startled at the sound of the impact below. He was just leaving the NeurAx facility when the sound of the car hitting the tree brought his attention to the wooded area along the private roadway used by all NeurAx faculty.

  He squinted through the darkness to see what the noise had been. The car was visible through the rain, the trunk slightly crumpled against the tree. No one was getting out and it was too dark to see if there was any movement inside the vehicle.

  That’s Doctor Johnson’s car, he thought, recognizing the vehicle. How fast was he going? How bad is the road?

  The cold rain continued to pelt him, forcing him to pull the collar of his jacket up. He debated what to do. Should he go down and check on the situation? Should he run back inside and call for help? If he alerted paramedics and firetrucks and Doctor Johnson was merely shaken up, the man might be pissed at Joel for a while. Perhaps it would be better to check first.

  He started down the hill but stopped when he saw the figure of a man running toward the scene. He could barely recognize the man as James Douglas, the security guard. He hadn’t thought of calling security but it didn’t seem to matter, James was already aware. He would know exactly what to do and had more training than an animal technician like Joel.

  Deciding he would only be in the way if emergency vehicles were called, Joel hung back and watched from a distance. He could always run down there if need be.

  * * * *

  James Douglas had just started his twelve-hour shift at the security gate when he heard the thud, followed by the sound of metal crunching and glass breaking. He grabbed his flashlight and left the security booth, running up the private road toward the glow of the headlights behind the trees.

  He was out of breath by the time he reached the car, backed into a tree, the trunk smashed in. He recognized it as Doctor Benjamin Johnson’s car. He silently prayed the man was unhurt as he made his way to the driver’s side door.

  Johnson was conscious but dazed, shaking his head. A trickle of blood made it way from his hairline across his temple, staining his jacket with small droplets. James could hear him moaning through the closed window.

  As he tried the door, he found it to be unlocked. He opened it and knelt next to Johnson, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. The doctor was barely stirring but at least he was alive.

  “Doctor Johnson, are you alright?” he asked.

  Johnson looked around for a moment as if trying to remember where he was. “I think so. I must have lost control for a moment.”

  “Stay put,” James said. “I’m going to call an ambulance. I’ll call a tow truck after they arrive.”

  “No,” Johnson said quickly. “I’m fine. Please, don’t call anyone.”

  James looked at him with concern. “You could be hurt. I really think you should be checked out.”

  “I’m fine, really. It’s just embarrassing, you know? I don’t want anyone to know about this. Can we just keep it to ourselves?”

  “You’re sure?”

  Johnson nodded. “I’m positive. Let me just see if this thing starts.”

  As the doctor turned the key, the car started right up. He smiled and looked at James.

  “I think I’ll just sleep in my office tonight,” he said.

  “Your trunk is pretty damaged.”

  “I’m not really worried about that. I’ll get it fixed when I have a chance.”

  “You want me to drive you back up the hill?”

  “No, thank you, James. I’ll be fine. I can bandage my head in one of the labs.”

  James nodded, though he didn’t like the idea of leaving Johnson alone. “I have the phone with me. You call me if you need me, okay?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  James watched him drive toward the NeurAx building, an uneasy feeling building up inside him.

  * * * *

  Joel had started down the hill, deciding he was doing no good to anyone by merely watching the exchange between Johnson and the security guard. By the time Joel had reached the scene, however, Doctor Johnson had already driven off. He stood for a moment, panting and drenched.

  “Was he okay?” Joel asked.

  James nodded. “upset, but otherwise fine.”

  “Shouldn’t he have been checked out?”

  “He refused,” James said. “You know how these doctors are.”

  “Yes, I do,” Joel muttered. “So, he drove home?”

  James shook his head. “He drove back up to bandage himself. Didn’t you pass him?”

  “I ran down the hill, not along the road. The tress probably blocked my view. Maybe I should go and check on him.”

  “I wouldn’t. He was pretty adamant about no one else knowing about the accident. You want me to give you a lift up the hill to your car? The four-wheeler is right over there.”

  “No, thank you,” Joel said, looking over at the area the car had been. “I just want to catch my breath and then I’ll walk up.”

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, just holler.”

  Joel waited for James to leave before going to the now damaged tree and inspecting the base. Something had caught his eyes, but he didn’t want James hanging around him while he did his own inspection.

  He knelt down next to the object he had noticed glittering in the light from the streetlamp. He reached down and retrieve the piece of glass. It was a piece of a flask, apparent by the shape. It was part of the bottom, now soaked by the rain. Whatever had been inside was completely washed away.

  “What the hell would he have taken from the lab?” he asked himself.

  Glancing around, he found another piece of glass. This one has a P written on it in marker. The rest of the writing was among the shattered fragments. Whatever it was, he prayed it wasn’t one of the PEF flasks. If it was, he could only hope it wasn’t the 07 generation. If so, it was in the rainwater.

  He watched the small streams of rain as they ran along the pavement and across the hill. It had rained so much, small trenches had been formed, carrying the excess water toward the state route. He noted that they made their way through the cemetery below before joining the ditch along the road.

  “Nice job, Doc,” he mumbled. “You’ve officially destroyed company property, along with your trunk.”

  He decided it would only start a series of questions if he said anything. Joel tossed the piece of glass into the trees and star
ted back up the hill, deciding that keeping quiet about it was the best course of action.

  CHAPTER sEVEN

  Sheriff Daniels sat at the counter of the One Stop Diner, sipping his coffee and watching Rita Banks walk back and forth along the counter delivering plates of food and hot cups of coffee to the other customers seated along the counter.

  She smiled in his direction. “You ready for a refill yet, Rob?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” he answered, setting his mug on the counter.

  He did like the coffee here, but he mainly liked watching Rita walk back and forth in her short skirt and apron. She was a beautiful woman who liked to show some leg, and her shirts were always low cut, showing generous amounts of cleavage. One cup of coffee would have been enough, but he always had the refill so he could sit there and watch her a little longer. Sometimes he felt as if he should arrest himself for the thoughts he had as he watched her work. It was pathetic, he knew, but it was one of the few pleasures he knew lately in this small town where nothing ever happened.

  The door to the diner opened and his deputy, Jim Tucker, walked in and took a seat on the stool next to him. The deputy removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Hi, Jimmy, want a cup of coffee?” Rob asked.

  “No thanks, Rob. I just came by to remind you of the funeral in an hour,” Jim said.

  “I’ll be ready, but thanks.”

  “You’re going to the Abigail Jones’ Funeral, Rob?” Rita asked.

  “Yeah, everyone knew her. We all feel bad that she passed on, such a sweet old woman.”

  “Only sixty-three years old,” Rita said. “It’s really too bad they couldn’t do more to save her.”

  “That’s the sad thing about cancer,” Jim said. “Sometimes all they can do is give you a few more weeks.”

  “Is she being buried at the big cemetery out by that research place?” Rita asked.

  “Yeah, Shady Pines Cemetery,” Jim answered.

  “What do they do out there, anyway?” She asked.

  “Mostly just lie around, don’t talk at all, keep to themselves,” Rob answered.

  “I don’t mean the dead people! I meant the research building.” She said, throwing the counter rag at him and shaking her head.

  Rob faked a surprised look. “Oh, them. I think it’s biomedical research of some kind. It’s called NeurAx so it sounds like something medical.”

  “You think they’re stealing folks’ dogs and cats to experiment on? I heard something like that with some of those research places.”

  “I doubt that,” Jim answered. “I heard most of those stories were myths.”

  “I sure hope it’s only a myth.”

  “Well, I better be off,” Rob said as he dropped some singles on the counter next to his empty cup. “I’ll see you tomorrow Rita.”

  “You boys have a good day,” Rita said.

  * * * *

  There was a light breeze blowing through the cemetery as Helen walked into the gathering crowd, standing in front of the hole in the ground that would soon be the final resting place of her grandmother, Abigail Jones. Most people were quiet, some staring ahead and others crying. Small sobs occasionally broke the silence until Reverend Brighton began the ceremony.

  Helen stood slightly back from the rest of her family, preferring not to be the center of attention. She was glad to be home from college for the summer, but a funeral was not how she had intended to occupy her time off from classes. She loved her grandmother, but she would have been happier to skip the ceremony and mourn by herself at home in her room. She had to admit, though, it was nice to hear Reverend Brighton recall the wonderful things about her dear departed grandma.

  Abigail had been an active member of the church for decades. For this reason, the reverend had known her from the time he took over at the church. She was involved in the church office longer than he had been there. He knew almost everything about Abigail and Helen got the impression that he would miss her nearly as much as her family did. Every now and then he would stop to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. Helen was deeply moved by his words, knowing they were sincere.

  Seeing how her grandmother’s death was affecting everyone in town, Helen realized just how loved the woman was. It was amazing to think that one person could touch so many lives. To have such a woman taken from these people seemed almost as much of a tragedy as it was to have her taken from her immediate family.

  As the funeral ended, people began pouring out of the cemetery to go to the church for refreshments. Helen walked slowly, lagging behind the large group of people. She wanted to take her time, feeling that the longer she was in the cemetery the closer she would be to her grandmother, even if it was for the last time. As she watched as the last of the people exiting the gate, she shuffled her feet down the path.

  She was almost to the bottom of the hill when she heard footsteps behind her. Before she could turn around a hand flew in front of her and covered her mouth, and another hand grabbed her around the waist. Unable to scream, she felt herself being dragged off the path toward the row of trees on the outskirts of the woods. She tried to break free but the grip was too strong. Soon she was behind the trees, out of sight of the departed crowd.

  She was afraid now, afraid that she was about to be murdered by some unknown assailant and nobody was close by to hear it or help her. She had all kinds of horrors going through her mind and felt for a moment as if she would faint.

  Finally, her abductor released her, allowing a scream to escape her throat. She whirled around to see Lenny Hackett, her former high school sweetheart, laughing over the scare he had given her. She pushed him into a tree before yelling at him.

  “Len, you rotten bastard! What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”

  “What’s the matter? Did you think it was a graveyard zombie or something?” he asked, still laughing.

  “Maybe I did, but now I realize it’s just a childish little boy! I ought to blacken your eye for that!”

  “You always were a little firecracker and that’s one of the things I like about you,” He said.

  “I’ll show you a firecracker when I kick your ass! Why couldn’t you just say hello like everybody else?”

  “Settle down. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m really sorry to hear about your grandmother. Everyone in town loved her, you know.”

  “Thanks, Len, I appreciate that. It almost makes up for that little stunt you just pulled.”

  “How can I make that up to you?” he asked as he took her hand.

  “Well, I’m not really sure you can. You’re just lucky I didn’t piss my pants.”

  “Now that would have been funny. I guess I’ll just have to try harder next time.”

  “Try that again and you’ll have a fat lip!”

  He backed away, his hands raised in a defensive gesture. “Okay. I’ll behave.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “With Grandma dying, I’m not in the joking mood just yet.”

  “I get it. Bad timing on my part.”

  She forced a smile. “I guess.”

  “I know you’re probably hearing it from everyone else but it will get easier.”

  “You’re right, I am hearing it from everyone else,” she said. “I better go join my family. Are you going to be at the church?”

  “Nah, I gotta get back to work, but I won’t hold you up. I would like to see you while you’re back in town, though. I’ve missed you a little.”

  She faked a hurt look. “Just a little?”

  “Yeah, just a little. We should get together while you’re here.”

  “Sure, just give me a call. We can hang out sometime.”

  “Just like old times,” he said.

  She nodded. “Just like old times. Call when you have time.”

  “You can count on it. I still have your cellphone number.”

  Helen watched him leave, staring at his back for a moment, then headed for the gate herself. As she left, she cou
ld’ve sworn she heard the sound of something scratching on wood. She stopped only for a moment to listen. It sounded like it was under the ground, which was impossible.

  “Great,” she said to herself. “Now I’m hearing things. Just what I need.”

  She continued out of the cemetery, figuring it was only her imagination.

  CHAPTER eIGHT

  Joel made his way down the hall, a cage of rats in hand. He had avoided everyone and kept to himself. Something had been bothering him about the piece of flask he had found the night before. What if it had been PEF07 in the flask? What if there was more than one flask? If they had been in the trunk of Doctor Johnson’s car, then why? And what would be the consequences if it had been the serum they had been told to destroy?

  The rats seem to react to his mood, becoming agitated inside the cage. The vibe he was giving off would have been combined with the fact that they were in new surroundings. These rats had just come in earlier that morning and hadn’t been exposed to anything. In fact, they would not be used for anything, other than identification.

  Joel had been assigned to checking the strain of rats they had received to ensure they were correct. Since all lab rats they ordered were white, the only way to tell was through mandibular morphometrics. In this case, the rats were sacrificed, the heads were removed and the flesh stripped away from them before the autoclaving and chemical process. Once that was completed, the jaw bones were removed and measured to identify the strain. The measurements would be taken the next day so that the mandible could be soaked in the enzyme overnight. It was a two-day job but kept him from getting bored.

  Joel hated performing this task, but it was necessary since the doctors at NeurAx were particular about what strains were used for each test. He was the fastest at this job and made no mistakes that required re-testing. Once was enough. He had no desire to have to repeat the testing.

  He had barely entered the lab when Julie Walsh walked in and approached the table he had set up the supplies on.