Mind Sync

by Kirsten Harrell

  Breathe. She needed to settle or she might just punch the next person she saw in the face.

  The barista greeted her at the counter with a warm smile that lit up her beautiful blue eyes. “Good morning, Bree. How are ya?”

  “Hey, Summer. I feel like shit. How can you look so chipper after last night’s party?”

  Summer raised her brows.“Well, I didn’t drink half a keg like some people.”

  “Oh, nice. Kick a woman when she’s down. Is that any way to treat your favorite customer?”

  “You know you’re still my favorite, even if you do drink like a frat boy.” Summer added a friendly wink to her smile.

  “Okay, then all is right in my world.” Bree flashed a rare full smile in return, not sure if Summer was flirting with her or just being friendly. Either way, the cheerful barista had a way of brightening her day.

  “Your usual?”

  Bree nodded. “As long as I’m still your favorite, maybe you could add an extra shot of espresso? I could use it today. And, make it to go.” Bree pointed to the glass case filled with muffins, cookies, and breakfast treats. “Plus one of those little quiche things. Heated up.” In afterthought she added, “please.”

  “You got it, Bree.” Summer made Bree’s Red Rocket - a cup of coffee with two shots of espresso, caramel syrup, and a splash of almond milk.

  In the parking lot at the Schnebly Hill Lookout, Bree looked around at the towering red mountain to her left. Millions of years of wind and rain had weathered many of the red rocks into easily identifiable shapes, like Elephant Rock, Bell Rock, and Coffee Pot Rock. Around the edge of this cliff was Snoopy Rock and Lucy, but she couldn’t see them from this angle. With a deep breath, she took in the sacred quality of the area, allowing it to soothe her soul.

  Yeah, breakfast at Schnebly had been a good choice. Bree headed to her favorite picnic table, closest to the edge of the plateau and with the best view. The peaceful energy of the area wrapped around her like a blanket as she looked out at the valley below and more giant red rock formations beyond.

  Breathing in the clean air, she took off her jacket and sat down to enjoy her coffee and breakfast. A few cars littered the parking lot, but with no one in sight, Bree savored the solitude. She took a big bite of the quiche pie. No longer piping hot, but it still tasted good. Except it needed salt.

  Bree looked in the paper bag and found a couple of salt packets and napkins. Yep, Summer was definitely good to her. She salted the quiche and took another bite followed by a sip of her coffee.

  Hmmm… now that hits the spot.

  Good food, caffeine, and some red rocks could cure a lot. Bree leaned her back against the table and tilted her head to let the sun shine on her face, content for the moment.

  “It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it?”

  Bree opened her eyes and turned her head toward the familiar raspy voice that’d disturbed her peaceful worship of the brilliant Arizona sunshine.

  “Hello, Chief. Good to see ya.” Bree sat up and nodded at the tall man standing in front of her. As a teen, Bree’s rebellious nature, combined with festering anger from the car-jacking and murder of her mother, led to a few run-ins with the Sedona law enforcement. Nothing major, just teenage trouble making. A few of the officers enjoyed hassling her. Chief Rick Sloan, however, had always been kind. Very strict, but kind. He knew about the trauma she’d been through before moving to Sedona. He cared about her and expected more from her. He’d had a big influence on her life and choice of career.

  “You know I’m not the Chief anymore.” The man took a deep breath and a quick flash of anger washed over his face.

  “Yeah, I know. A lot of us got screwed by this whole Instant Karma system, didn’t we?” Bree nodded to the side, inviting the former chief of the Sedona Police Department to sit down. “How are you handling things?”

  “From what I hear, better than you.” He peered at Bree over his sunglasses with a very parental look.

  “Jeesh, I forgot what a small town Sedona is.” Bree flushed. Everyone knew everyone’s business in Slow-dona. “Well, I’m not a kid anymore. If I want to drown my troubles at the bars, I can sure as shit do that. I’m not breaking any laws, regular or IK.”

  “Settle down, Bree. I’m not here to harass you. I know this has to be hard on you too.” Rick’s voice softened as he backpedaled. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’m handling it any better.” He shook his head and let out a big sigh. “I mean, violent crime is way down. The T’Lalz Invasion Threat Level is decreasing. Those are great results in only a few months and it’s hard to argue with that. I just wish they would’ve kept more of the existing law enforcement involved.”

  “Would you really have wanted to work for them?” Bree interrupted.

  “I don’t know. I just feel so damn useless. This is my town and I don’t have any say in it anymore.”

  “That’s just it, Rick. Even if you worked for them you wouldn’t have any say. None of us do. They’ve stripped all the damn control away from us. I know violent crime is down and more and more people are starting to like this IK system, but I don’t like being under control of the Kusharians or the KG, whatever the hell they are. No matter how many times they explain their reasons and throw the damn ITL in our faces, I say it’s all bullshit. It’s all happened too fast and I don’t trust them.”

  “So you think the Kusharians are really the ones in control? What do you think they’re up to? What about the Earth United Council?” Rick asked.

  “I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right to me. It never has. How do we really know that the Kusharians are here to help? What’s in it for them? And, how do we know for sure these T’Lalz aliens are coming for us?” Bree’s shoulders tightened.

  “We’ve all seen the videos of the brutal attacks on Kushari. I figured the Kusharians want to help us so that we’ll join them in the fight against the T’Lalz.”

  “Or maybe they want to bring all their people here to escape the T’Lalz. Maybe those videos are fake and they want Earth for themselves because their planet sucks.” Bree kicked the ground with the toe of her boot, causing a plume of red dust to rise up in the air. “And those are my nicer theories.”

  “You don’t trust the EUC? I’m sure they’ve got a lot more information than we do.”

  “Exactly. Our government has a history of keeping important information from us. I’d say that teaming up with aliens to form an entirely new world government and hiding said facts from the public for decades puts a strong win in the column of the conspiracy nuts. It most definitely doesn’t engender trust in my book, no matter how many times they spout their good intentions, and no matter how good the results seem.”

  “I know a lot of people are happy about the crackdown on violence. They haven’t felt this safe in a long, long time. If ever. IK would mean no more murders, rapes, muggings, school shootings. Hell, no more terrorism. You gotta admit, that sounds pretty good.” Rick shifted on the bench.

  Bree snorted. “Ha. But, did we trade the end of human-on-human violence for alien-on-human violence? Or our freedom for alien control? Plus, there are still a lot of people who feel pissed, trapped, and afraid.” Bree paused. “It’s just… I don’t know. I guess people’s reactions are all over the fucking board. And that’s not even mentioning all the religious zealots or the bizarre Instant Karma cults popping up.”

  Rick nodded in agreement.

  Before he could say anything, Bree continued. “Even if they’re telling the truth and we have to lower the overall violent energy of the planet to avoid being consumed by the T’Lalz, I don’t think humans can reach an ITL level one and maintain it. It’s too much of a change and too fast. I think it might backfire.”

  “You might be right about that. I had dinner with Steve Yarrow from State Patrol yesterday and he said that there are small pockets of bizarre violence popping up in sporadic areas around the northern part of the state. Areas that were previously at a two or better. People that you wouldn’t e
ven suspect of acting out. He doesn’t know what to make of it.” Rick gave Bree a concerned look.

  “That’s what I’m talking about, Rick. It’s human nature. People have to feel in control or they explode like pressure cookers without a vent.”

  “Always the cynic.” Rick’s right eyebrow raised, as did the corner of his mouth, like they were somehow connected by a string. Bree had always marveled at his ability to do that.

  “Oh, come on. All your years in office, you can’t tell me you believe that people are capable of becoming peace-loving hippies overnight? Let alone maintaining it.” Bree tried to mimic the half-smirk, but only managed to pull off something that must have looked like a strange facial tremor. They both laughed at her attempt.

  Rick shrugged. “Maybe we can. Maybe we’re ready.”

  “Right, I forget who I’m talking to. Mr. ‘People are basically good and just need a nudge in the right direction.’”

  “You, my dear, are a prime example of that philosophy. So, I think I’ll stand by my theory.” Rick gave Bree a serious look over his sunglasses.

  “You can’t be naive enough to believe that works for everyone.” Bree’s shoulders creeped toward her ears and her muscles tensed.

  “Okay. Okay. I don’t want to argue with you. Let’s agree to disagree.” Rick reached over to pat Bree on the shoulder and gave her a warm smile. “Look, I’ve gotta run, Lela is waiting on me. It was really nice to run into you, Bree. Hey, why don’t you come over for dinner soon? Everyone’d love to see you. How about Thursday?” Rick stood up.

  Bree stood up too. “Sure. That sounds great. I’ll bring my guacamole if Lela’ll make her fish tacos?” Her voice went up in pitch to turn the statement to a question.

  “Sounds like a plan.” They hugged and Rick headed off to the parking lot.

  Bree sat back down. As much as she wanted to blow off Rick’s concern about the pockets of violence, he had good instincts. If he was worried, perhaps she should be also. She considered calling the Sheriff to gather more intel, but leaned back again to let the sun hit her face instead. After all, she’d planned on ignoring the world for a bit while hiding out at her uncle’s bunker in the desert.

  3

  “Bree! Max! Where are you guys?”

  “Shhtt-” Bree’s tongue, like a thick strip of leather, made it difficult for her to tell her brother to shut the hell up. With effort, she peeled one eye open, only to slam it shut again. Unfortunately, not fast enough to prevent the bright daylight from piercing her brain. Memories from the night before flooded her mind. She and Max, plus a few of his buddies and tequila. Lots of tequila. Margaritas. Shots. Ugh. Her stomach roiled and head pounded.

  “There you are. Did you sleep out here? Jesus, this place smells like a distillery.” Jason plopped down in the leather chair closest to the couch, where Bree lay sprawled in their uncle Max’s living room.

  With one finger held to her lips, Bree struggled to sit up. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. A bottle of water on the coffee table came into focus. She grabbed it and gulped half, appreciating the relief. Since it was still cold, she figured Max must have put it there recently.

  “What…” Bree cleared her throat. “What time is it?”

  “It’s almost eleven. Where’s Max?”

  “Am I his fucking keeper?” She drank more water.

  She looked around at the mess, remembering the night before. She’d gone to the store to get her favorite tequila, but another label had caught her attention. Karma Tequila. The irony had been too great to resist. She and the others had drowned their sorrows with Karma Tequila.

  “You might want to be nicer to me since I brought you a Red Rocket.”

  At the mention of coffee, Bree’s eyes widened, but Jason hugged it to his body.

  “I’m so sorry, my dear sweet baby bro.” Bree plastered on a smile and blinked a few times. “I do not know where our illustrious uncle has gone on this fine morning. Would you like me to find out for you?” She looked around for her phone.

  “That’s better, but how about you stop with the baby bro shit. I’m a man.”

  The wonderful aroma of the coffee wafted toward Bree.

  “Yes, Jason. You’re right. My bad.” She tried hard to keep the sarcasm from her voice and coughed to keep from laughing. She really wanted that coffee. No, desperately needed the coffee. With all the seriousness she could muster, she said, “You are the manliest man I know, Mr. Jackson. The most handsome, strongest man in the land.” She reached out for the coffee, but Jason clung to it. “And the most generous man.” She smiled.

  After a moment, he smiled back and handed her the coffee. Bree grabbed a throw pillow and flung it at her brother. He caught it and threw it back.

  Bree blocked the incoming pillow with her left hand and guarded the precious coffee with her right. “Oh, fuck me. My head hurts.”

  “I bet. Looks like you guys partied hard last night. I’m sorry I had to leave early. Then again—” He looked her over and grimaced. “Maybe I should be glad I had to work.”

  “Hey buddy.” Max came into the living room, breathing heavy. His sweaty tee-shirt clung to his body. He took a big gulp of water, then rolled the cold bottle over his forehead. “Bree, you look like hell. You want me to make pancakes? The carbs will help you feel better. Bring up your blood sugar.”

  “You’re a freak.” Bree almost threw up just thinking about running. She cocked her head. “But, I could eat pancakes.”

  “Sweating helps clear the system. You should try it. I’ll make breakfast after I shower.” Max headed back to his bedroom.

  “This combo will cure any hangover.” Max took a swig from his protein drink and then returned his attention to his plate of pancakes.

  “I sure as shit hope it helps mine, ‘cause I feel rough,” Bree grumbled.

  “I laced the protein drink with some vitamins and herbs.” Max looked at Bree, then nodded toward her water bottle. “You need to keep drinking water today too.”

  Bree rolled her eyes.

  “I’m serious. You need to rehydrate.”

  Bree eyed Max over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of coffee.

  “With water.”

  “Quit nagging. What, are you channeling my mother now?”

  “No, but maybe I should.” Max let out a breath and looked away. “Maybe then you’d treat me with more respect.”

  A pang of regret. But, damn it. He knew she wasn’t fit to be around people so soon after waking up. Especially with a hangover. She did respect Max, but he was only eight years her elder so she’d always thought of him more like a brother than an uncle.

  “Did you guys hear about Ms. Worton?” Jason spoke around a mouthful of partially chewed pancakes, thankfully changing the subject.

  “No. What happened to her?” Bree stopped eating and looked at Jason. Ms. Worton was one of her favorite teachers. She taught English at Red Rock High School and was an avid supporter of the girls’ sports programs, especially basketball. Her husband, Mr. Scholtz, coached her varsity basketball team.

  “She went berserk yesterday and attacked the bagger at Basha’s when he was loading her groceries into the car. She got k-snagged and Mr. Scholtz is flipping out. He’s saying someone poisoned her or something.”

  Bree tried to ignore the display of partially chewed pancakes as Jason talked. “Shit.” Her insides twisted as fear and rage battled. As usual, fear lost out. Fear was stupid and weak. Anger, she could deal with.

  “Dude, that’s not all. Mr. Scholtz said the same thing happened to Cody Sidwell. He’s the geek who flipped out and shot his mom. When the KGs came for him, his dad attacked them. The KGs took ‘em both. Freakin’ nuts.” Jason took a swig of protein drink to wash down the mess in his mouth.

  “What the hell? Are you sure?” Bree fired her questions at Jason with more intensity than she meant to. “How do you even know this?” And, more importantly, how the fuck had she missed this news? Oh yeah, she’d been hidi
ng out and staying in a drunken stupor.

  “Are you kidding? This is the most action Slow-dona’s probably ever seen. Everyone’s talking about it at the coffee shop this morning. You know word travels faster than fire around here,” Jason said, proud to be the one in the know.

  Bree looked at Max. He’d stopped eating. His stoic jaw line twitched.

  “What the hell’s going on?” A disturbing thought popped into her mind. “I saw Rick the other day and he said that there’ve been pockets of violence springing up around areas in this part of the state. Apparently people who had no history of violence are randomly acting out. You hear anything like this, Max?”

  “I’m out here in the middle of nowhere for a reason.” Max downed the rest of his smoothie and avoided eye contact.

  After an abrupt retirement from the military, Max had built a partly underground house and fully underground bunker outside of Sedona.

  “I know. Me too, but I think something weird is going on.” A prickly sensation tickled Bree’s gut. She kept her eye on Max, but he didn’t look up.

  “Whaddya mean?” Jason’s eyes crinkled and his nicely groomed eyebrows knitted together.

  When had he started grooming his eyebrows? Bree couldn’t stop staring at them, but she did her best to stay focused. “I’m not sure. Something feels off. I don’t think Ms. Worton has a violent bone in her body. What about Cody? Is he prone to violence?” Bree looked at Jason.

  “Nah. He is… er, was a total nerd. President of the chess club and member of some weird peace group. That’s what makes it kinda funny.” Jason giggled.

  “Nice, asshole.” Bree swatted her brother’s arm. “People’s lives are destroyed, and you think it’s funny?”

  Jason frowned and got up to clear his plate. As much as Bree loved her baby brother, he could be inappropriate at times. The doctors said it was due to his brain-trauma-induced ADD and problems with impulse control, but sometimes she wanted to smack him upside the head and see if she could jiggle his brain into a new pattern. Apparently hangovers interfered with patience as well as tact.