Before the conversation continued, an Air Force staff sergeant came in with a look of urgency on his face. “Excuse me, sir.”
“What is it, Sergeant?” asked Elkins.
“Arecibo has picked up another transmission, General.”
“Proceed as planned,” Elkins told Smith before turning abruptly to leave.
“If you’ll excuse me, sir, there is one other very real possibility.”
“What possibility?”
“This trinity thing Chase keeps referring to does not hold up when we review satellite scans,” said Smith.
“You’re saying three sites are unnecessary?”
“Yes, sir, the third site was, in my opinion, unrelated to the other two. We already have the information we need and I’m convinced Dr. Chase knows that.”
“Possibly, this trinity idea is some type of religious experience or reference,” Elkins smiled. “If we have what we need, we leave it at that for now. There’s no reason to snoop on private property or create a military presence that will get people talking. In no time at all it would turn into a damn circus, just as it did in Roswell, New Mexico.” With that said, General Elkins and the Staff Sergeant left the office.
Smith was considering how to transition Dr. Charlie Chase into a capacity that would keep him available as a consultant, while at the same time minimizing his accessibility to classified information. He wanted to keep Chase close, but not too close. A possible solution was already being considered.
Meanwhile, early that same morning, Dr. Liz Raymond continued to drive south on Interstate 69 in rain so heavy that she decided to stop for coffee in Elnora, a few miles north of Vincennes, Indiana. As she drove into the small town, where she had stopped several times before at the Main Street Café, she was quick to realize that something was wrong. In such a heavy rain, it was becoming difficult to recognize any of the buildings along Main Street. Or was she even on Main Street? With rain striking sharply against her windshield, and the wipers unable to push enough water away to permit a clear view, she pulled over to the side of what she thought was Main Street, with the intention of waiting out the storm.
She was accustomed to driving in rain, but not in such a heavy rain as this. And hadn’t the weather forecast called for a cold but sunny day? She’d heard it only minutes before on WFIU FM? Could the forecast be this ridiculously inaccurate, she wondered? Never had she driven in rain this intense. Rain continued to beat incessantly against the roof and windows. But she was safe and even comfortable in the SUV, so after reclining the seat with the idea of a longer wait than she had anticipated, she took some recent research from her backpack and settled in to reread a few articles she had collected from the library archives at Indiana University.
Claps of thunder were loud enough to disturb her concentration. Lightning flashed violently and illuminated the interior of the SUV. A few times she attempted to look through the curtain of rain to get a sense of where she was parked, but those efforts were futile. Nothing outside the car was visible. She’d read accounts of cars being washed away in heavy rains, and although increasingly nervous, she hoped the large SUV would continue to be safe. Maybe the wind, which had come suddenly, was causing the most anxiety. Her GPS had stopped working. WFIU FM was off the air, or so she thought.
The storm continued to rage for several more minutes, before the rain subsided long enough for her to get a glimpse of her surroundings. Neon signs blinked brightly against a gray landscape. She could not remember seeing neon signs this large in the small town of Elnora. And what had happened to the Main Street Café? Across the street from where she was parked, a row of tall buildings pushed so high into the sky that she could not see the tops of them, no matter how hard she tried.
With her confusion continuing to mount, and a sudden calm settling around her, she began to realize that she had not stopped in Elnora at all. She must have driven farther than she realized during the early minutes of the storm, more than likely all the way to Vincennes. Looking at the time on her mobile phone, she realized she’d been driving for less than half an hour. Another thought struck her. Somewhere along the way she must have made a wrong turn. Reluctantly, she realized this was not Vincennes, and the closest city with buildings this tall was Indianapolis, which was nearly a hundred miles behind her.
Dr. Liz Raymond was not the kind of woman who panicked easily. Sensing that something unusual had happened, she carefully considered her options. Then, the already strange got even stranger. Several years before, she had traveled to Hong Kong for a research symposium. There for a week as a presenter on paranormal occurrences, she experienced a typhoon that had come in off the South China Sea, causing the symposium to be delayed three days. One morning, surprised by the calm that had set in, she went outside to find the eye of the typhoon passing over. With this thought in mind, and the wind and rain subsiding, she cautiously opened the door of the SUV and stepped outside with her cell phone in hand. Quite possibly she was stepping into the eye of what was an incredibly powerful storm, much like she had experienced in Hong Kong.
If this was Elnora, Indiana, it had changed beyond recognition. The distended sky appeared to drop lower, until the tall buildings were lost in a strange and heavy fog. Even the bright neon had dimmed, and cars were not moving at all. Flat, two-dimensional shapes, the buildings resembled stiff outlines cut from painted wood. In front of her was a Coca-Cola truck, and stenciled on the door beneath the yawning driver were the words, Nashville, Tennessee.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t explain what continued to happen around her. When she looked south, a modern city was set in relief against the sunken sky, a cluster of silhouetted shapes that grew fainter the longer she looked. To the north, along a narrow street, were clapboard houses, gleaming in sunlight—the same sunlight she’d left behind in Bloomington, Indiana. On both sides of the street, people passed slowly on the sidewalks. A pickup truck coming down the street toward her, never seemed to get closer to where she was standing. Only a few yards down the street, and motionless on a grassy lawn, was a dog with bulging eyes.
Before she realized what was happening, that imagery to the north grew brighter with each passing second. The sunny images were visibly moving toward her, past her, moving south, until rays of sunlight fell into the street where she stood. Ahead, the outline of a building she recognized slowly emerged from the mist. It was the Main Street Café, coming steadily into focus. Two men in coats and hats shook hands on the sidewalk. She heard honking and turned to see a car approaching. She had to step aside to let it pass. Sun beat down on the town of Elnora, Indiana. Whatever it was that had existed in the gloom under a bleak and somber sky had disappeared.
Once inside the SUV, she started the engine and immediately WFIU FM was back on the air, playing a Vivaldi violin concerto. The GPS, however, showed Interstate 40 West with the city of Nashville, Tennessee just 12 miles away. Glancing at her cell phone, she was surprised to see that nearly 31 minutes had passed. What had happened to her was not possible. Yet, she knew the strange phenomenon had occurred. As she attempted to sort out the possibilities, she realized instantly that those possibilities were few. Since she hadn’t imagined any of it, that eliminated one of the possibilities. So, if she hadn’t imagined it, then it had happened, and there had to be an explanation.
It had gone wrong about a mile north of Elnora. The sky had darkened without warning. Although weather anomalies were not uncommon, she was sure this was much more than just an abrupt change in weather. This was something spectacular, a rare and fascinating rupture in time, an exceptional opportunity to view two completely different places simultaneously. Had the GPS confirmed that she had glimpsed Nashville, Tennessee from Elnora, Indiana, or had she really been on Interstate 40 only minutes from Nashville? Whatever had happened could certainly happen again. That thought alone frightened Liz Raymond. If there was an answer that had veracity, Dr. Adrian White woul
d have it, and she had the pictures on her cell phone to prove this strange phenomenon had happened. This one thought persisted, as she drove the remaining miles to Evansville, while the same Vivaldi violin concerto played another 15 minutes on WFIU FM.
Chapter 41
It was early spring. Lacey Laurens had announced her engagement to Matt Jennings, whose father had recently retired, leaving Matt and Matt’s younger brother David to keep the business profitable. With Ben’s guidance, and based on what Larry Collins had revealed, what was left of the church was discovered only 40 yards west of the north woods. Remnants of the parsonage, located by Manning a couple months before, had remained the primary point of interest, that is until several other larger stones were found. Although only the tops of the stones were visible, Matt was still able to get reliable dimensions, which revealed the approximate size of the church. Perhaps the most significant find was made by Matt while digging the perimeter with a backhoe. On the south side of the foundation and oriented more to the southwest were stone steps, and it was Matt’s opinion that those steps had been at the front of the church.
With what remained of the entire foundation now exposed, they began running interior GPR scans. One afternoon late, with the sun setting behind the trees, they got a strong hit on the east side about five feet from where one of the walls had stood. Digging more than a foot into the ground, they uncovered pieces of untarnished metal, that when fit together, formed a triangle. The two pieces forming the apex of the triangle had opposing beveled edges, only lightly chipped. Though the pieces fit together perfectly, both ends had broken and jagged edges, suggesting other undiscovered pieces were still in the ground.
Light to the touch, and with a glossy patina, all the uncovered pieces looked new, as if they had been recently manufactured. Distinguishable on one piece was an impression, possibly a symbol, lighter in color, not painted or stenciled, but rather incised into the metal—if it was metal at all. Closer observations revealed this same lighter color along one of the jagged edges, leading them to think the piece had broken and the rest of it was still buried.
Not more than five minutes had passed before Matt got a strong hit near where the other pieces had been excavated. After pushing three red flags into the soil, Ben glanced toward the western sky, and quickly realized the remaining light, spread purple across the entire horizon, was what was left of the sunset. Digging into the ground with a spade, he exposed another piece. Although much like the others, it appeared to be longer. Even in the dim light, they saw traces of the same light color along the jagged edge, which when completely exposed, could be one of the missing pieces they expected to find. In the ebbing light, with darkness closing in, they considered placing lights at the site, so they could continue the dig into the night.
“I think it’s better to get some rest and continue in the morning,” Matt told Ben at length. “I still need to finish the interior scans and want to run GPR scans around the exterior of the foundations.”
Ben nodded his agreement. “What I find interesting is that these pieces are turning up inside what was once a church. They certainly don’t seem to be what I would call church artifacts.”
“Maybe tomorrow we’ll have some answers,” admitted Matt.
Liz would be in town tomorrow on spring break and told Jenna she was glad to have a place to visit, “far away from academia.” Adrian White had been notified but was attending a conference on the West Coast. Jenna was shopping with her mother in Evansville. Meanwhile, Ben was anxious to take a shower, then once again look over the research Dr. Raymond had left behind on her last visit to Atwood House.
What he found fascinated him. Published in a small local newspaper called The Herald was a 1901 account of the church and its fiery destruction. According to the article, a meteor air burst had occurred and was solely responsible for the devastation, although no pieces of meteorite had ever been located. That was the prevailing contention for decades, until in 1947 a local resident by the name of Albert Ruston, now long deceased and buried near a large chestnut tree in Newburgh’s Rose Hill Cemetery, had started a rumor that the church had been struck by “a craft of unknown origin.” The rumor, which had taken on some apparent credibility, was quickly dismissed by the Air Force that same year, with a subsequent report stating that a meteor had caused the damage, and that a sizable meteorite had been recovered and taken away for examination. Most residents at the time never bought the meteorite story, remaining convinced that something “black and sinister” had destroyed the church, “a thing from out of the sky” but certainly not a meteor.
Ben, hoping to get an early start, was up and dressed by six o’clock the next morning. After a cup of black coffee, he headed out to the site. He was surprised to find Matt already working in the early mist of a cool morning, and even more surprised to see several red flags pushed into the ground at various places around the church foundation. Matt had used a metal detector to identify places where he’d gotten solid GPR hits and was now scanning an area near the woods.
“Morning,” he waved, when he saw Ben approaching.
“You definitely believe in getting an early start, Matt.”
“This is exciting stuff. I’ve had some good hits this morning,” and he gestured toward the flags.
“Looks like we got plenty to keep us busy,” Ben returned.
“There’s a place over by the stream, about 20 yards this side, where the creek narrows. You can see it if you look closely,” and he pointed to the area in reference. “There is a distinct depression. Might be nothing, but often sunken areas like that indicate disturbances in the ground. I’ll look at it a little closer later.”
They had continued interest in the larger pieces they had discovered the day before. Ben grabbed a shovel and an hour later took a long narrow piece out of the ground. It had the same shiny patina as those pieces already recovered. Different in some respects to those retrieved, this piece resembled more closely those pieces dug up the previous fall near the stone bridge. Extremely light, a six foot piece could be held and balanced easily in one hand.
After closer observation, the surface, which they thought might be polished metal, seemed now more like a skin or sheath stretched tightly over an aluminum framework. In the early morning sun, the patina sparkled even more, causing Ben to look away momentarily. When struck lightly with a hammer, a deep reverberation could be heard against the backdrop of trees.
At this point, neither had any idea what they had dug out of the ground. Manning had certainly not forgotten Anna’s reference to something malevolent still buried on Atwood House property. She had spoken fearfully, calling it a huge evil. Larry Collins had told Manning the military had not made a clean sweep of the area. Ben could not be sure if what the military had left behind were those pieces being discovered now by Matt and him. However, one thing remained clear, that these pieces being unearthed shouldn’t be there at all. Something unusual, even improbable, had happened here many years ago, and Ben was beginning to think he knew exactly what it was.
Liz was staying at the Tropicana Evansville. She had invited Jenna to spend a couple of nights with her, and both had enjoyed playing the slots at the adjoining casino. Though neither was a gambler, these nights together were enjoyable, and Ben was happy to have this opportunity to work with Matt at the church site.
Not wanting to be left out entirely, Jenna called to say she and Liz were coming later that afternoon, telling him they would bring fried chicken, so he wouldn’t have to worry about preparing anything. She knew he was working the church site and regretted they could not get to Atwood House until what was looking like the end of the day. Liz loved coming to Newburgh, and she and Jenna really hit it off. Once, by invitation, Jenna had driven to Bloomington to attend a couple of Dr. Raymond’s classes, and told Ben how much she had enjoyed them.
Another 30 minutes passed before he heard Matt calling. “Look at this, Ben. We might have som
ething here.”
The width of the creek narrowed to about eight feet at a point where it bent heavily to the east, before straightening out into the woods. It was shallow enough, especially during the summer and fall, to use seven large stones to get to the other side. Since they provided a shortcut to the woods on the east side of the property, there had been evenings when Manning used these rocks as a natural bridge. Deer often grazed at the edge of the woods, and on several occasions Ben had come close enough to hear and see the bucks rutting. Cautious as they were, they didn’t seem to fear him.
It was near there where Matt poked with a stick into a clump of tall weeds. Ben thought he might be poking at a snake or dead animal. But when he saw him drop to his knees and reach into the dense growth of weeds with his bare hands, he knew Matt had found something in the dirt.
Concealed in a tangle of bromegrass, morning glory, and chickweed was a large section of flat rock, which Matt had managed to expose, after clearing the weeds around it. Digging down with the sharp edge of a spade to nearly three inches, Ben was unable to loosen or get underneath the stone. While he continued to dig around the edges, trying to move it, Matt got a bucket from the truck and went down to the stream to fill it. Returning with the water, he splashed it on the rock, and began wiping his bare hands across the surface, brushing away cheatgrass and pennywort that had adhered to the porous stone.
Pouring more creek water over the bare surface, Matt said, “Might be something written there.”
“If it’s a gravestone, it’s a huge one,” Ben admitted.
“It’s not uncommon to find small cemeteries near these old churches.” He glanced up at the terrain before speaking again. “The land slopes noticeably from the woods down to the creek, so there’s a chance that some downhill creep occurred and moved this stone to where it is now. But then it might not be a gravestone at all.”
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