The Harmony Divide- Never Alone

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The Harmony Divide- Never Alone Page 8

by Dominick Gerard

“I know. I hope I’ll be able to concentrate. I’ll be thinking about you guys. Hopefully everything goes well. She seems to be doing fine, but you never know. Just let me know as soon as you’re done, and I’ll do the same.”

  “Sounds good. I will. She’ll be fine, and you’ll do amazing. You always do. You have all the answers.”

  “I wish. I’m going to go get ready now. Will you take her, please?”

  He reached over and pulled the sleeping baby onto his chest. Jenn kissed her on the top of the head before walking away.

  The scene shifted.

  Christine

  Jenn and Christine appeared in Jenn’s bedroom. It was neat and tidy, but fairly sparse. There was a twin-sized bed with a basic bedspread and a few decorative pillows on top. Pictures hung from the walls and a single potted plant sat near a window on a small table.

  “I have something to show you, Christine,” Jenn said excitedly. “Come here! This is from a little while before the last memory we just saw. A few months ago. It’s so…” A dreamy looked crossed Jenn’s face. “Oh, just come look.”

  Jenn motioned Christine to follow her to the door. Jenn pulled it open cautiously, then lifted a finger over her lips to signal for quiet. Christine nodded, paused, then shook her head. No one else could see or hear her in these dreams, so she didn’t exactly have to be quiet…

  She did as Jenn asked anyway, then realized something in the dream had changed. When they arrived in the bedroom, Jenn was aware of Christine, but as the door opened Christine could tell Jenn was now simply part of the memory, oblivious to Christine’s presence. Christine continued to creep down the hall behind her in silence.

  As they walked down the hall Christine began to hear… music… or somebody trying to play music. The distinct sounds of a guitar strumming came from the living room. Christine winced as some sour notes were played. Someone hummed along to the chords. Charles, of course, Christine thought.

  They crept closer until Christine got a view of the man. He was seated with his back to them, holding a guitar unsteadily in front of him. He hesitantly tried to play a chord on the guitar and hummed a few notes to a song.

  “Ah, crap,” he said as he missed a string.

  Undeterred, he tried again. And again. And again. He continued, determination evident in the set of his shoulders. He played and hummed, sometimes getting a chord right and giving a pleased nod. Most of the time he missed something, but he didn’t stop.

  Christine looked over to Jenn and smiled. The woman had one hand lovingly rested on her slightly distended belly. The other hand was covering her mouth, hiding a smile which began as amused at first, but slowly morphed into one of loving admiration. Her eyes welled up with the beginnings of tears, but she quietly wiped her eyes before they could fall.

  They stood and watched Charles struggle with his music for some time. Christine appreciated his efforts. He was working so hard at something so small, yet he knew it would make his loved ones happy. Knew it would give them a memory they’d never forget. Christine felt a mixture of admiration and sadness. Had anyone ever done something like this for her? Was her father out there, wondering if she remembered his song? She steeled herself against the sting of non-existent nostalgia, lifting her chin and focusing again on Charles. She would be as good to her loved ones as Charles was when this was all over.

  Jenn gave Charles one more look, shaking her head, then returned quietly to her room. Charles continued to play and hum as she slowly closed the door after Christine slipped in behind her.

  Jenn turned to Christine as the memory ended, aware of her again.

  “That… that was amazing,” Christine said with a look of astonishment on her face.

  Jenn laughed. “Goodness, yes. The man is such a dork,” she said, using the word as a term of endearment. “You’ll find, Christine, that there are many forms of magic in this world.”

  “Yes, well, he’s okay, I guess,” she said, smiling. “Quite a dork. He has a ways to go before he can play that song for your party.”

  “Indeed, he does. Quite a dork.” Jenn agreed, and laughed, her eyes welling up again.

  Christine was jolted with blinding light and pain. The scene was ripped away.

  Christine

  Christine opened her eyes. The pain was unbearable, but she held on. Don’t scream.

  “7…” The soldier paused the countdown, appeared to consider something, then walked over to a table and picked up a large plastic container of hand sanitizer. He walked over to Trey and poured the contents onto the young man’s head. The clear liquid flowed slowly over his face, running onto his neck, shoulders, and chest. When the soldier was done, he threw the nearly empty container into the pile below Christine. He then took out his lighter, lit it, and held it near Trey’s head. Trey didn’t move a muscle the whole time. Christine couldn’t imagine what he had been through. It seemed he was completely defeated and content for it all to end.

  “I gave you a few extra seconds there. I didn’t think it would be fair to you, Christine, if I kept counting while I did this. I didn’t want to take away from your time.”

  Christine heard the smile in his words. Even through the distortion, she could pick up the subtle difference in the soldier’s tone. She glared at him. Sick bastard.

  “Are you ready to continue? Good. I can’t wait for you to see the beautiful blue flame this liquid produces when on fire. It’s extraordinary. Ah, yes, 6… 5… 4…”

  Christine’s body was at its limit. She couldn’t process the amount of pain she was experiencing. Her senses were overwhelmed. Her mind was shattering.

  She blacked out again.

  Christine

  Christine was becoming accustomed to the shocking difference between the waking world and her dreams with Jenn. One moment, she was experiencing panic inducing pain, and the next, it all disappeared. Even the memory of it faded in the dream. She wondered if the sensation was a product of Jenn’s intervention, but she was relieved by the temporary respite from the pain.

  Christine looked at Jenn from across the room. They were in a conference room on the 9th floor of a 15-story office building with large windows overlooking the city. Massive snow-capped mountains towered to the sky in the background. It was a picturesque view. A constant light snowfall coated parts of the other buildings and landscape. It was mid-day and the sun’s rays reflected off the white snow, making it glow. The city around and below the building shone brightly through the windows.

  Dark wood paneling covered the conference room walls. A few pictures were hung of various people posing with different equipment or in front of large facilities. One picture caught her interest. There was something about it that looked a little bit different than the rest. It was an ordinary picture in an office setting with three people she didn’t recognize. Something looked a bit odd, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She wondered if there was something important from Jenn’s memories about the photo.

  Christine remembered a great deal more of Jenn’s memories during each one of these dreams. Was that a good thing? Did it make her closer to being “ready”, as Jenn said, to gain access to her own memories? The whole situation was beyond confusing. The thought of never being able to remember who she really was or what her life was like terrified her. Her only course was forward and to continue to believe in Jenn’s plan.

  Jenn was seated across from Christine at a large conference table. Jenn wore a professional pair of black suit pants and a stylish gray blazer with black trim. She kept a single button fastened, but a white button-up shirt was visible underneath. Her long blonde hair was pulled up behind her head in a neat bun.

  Christine was impressed with how professional Jenn looked. She exuded confidence, competence, and patience. A notepad and pen sat at the ready in front of her. She waited with her legs crossed, hands together on one knee, and her back straight, watching the snow fall out the window. Christine had never seen this side of Jenn. The stark contrast between this professional and the
goofy woman she knew from the dreams was astounding. Christine was sure of one thing: Jenn would always find ways of surprising her.

  There were two other people in the room. The men were both seated near the other end of the large table, several seats away from them. Christine could make out their names on the identification cards they had around their necks. One wore a grey suit and tie - David, the Human Resources representative. The other wore a white lab coat and glasses - Jerret, the Engineer. They were both occupied with paperwork in front of them. David’s phone vibrated, and he picked it up to check a message or email.

  Despite Jenn’s composed behavior, Christine felt anything, but at ease. What were they waiting for? Could the silence be any more awkward? At any rate, it was better than facing her imminent death. Here in the dream she felt nothing that was happening in the waking world. There was no pain, no Trey, and no soldier. She knew it was only a temporary illusion, but she welcomed it nonetheless. Pushing the events of the real world out of her mind, she focused on the scene in front of her.

  Eventually, Jenn would speak to her and they’d figure this out. Jenn had to have some kind of last second idea that would save them both. Christine shuddered. She better hurry up with some magic plan or we’re both a few seconds from being dead.

  After a short time, somebody new walked into the room, startling Christine out of her deep thought. He was an older gentleman in a lab coat, quite thin and frail. Christine saw his name tag and gasped. It was Dr. Jason Angelo. Visions of what the soldier told her about him being tortured flashed through her mind. She wanted to yell at the man, warn him, but, of course, there was nothing she could do. It was surreal looking at a man she knew would die a gruesome death in the near future.

  “I’m sorry they had to take your cell phone and other belongings, Mrs. Stevens. You’ll get them back as soon as we’re finished.” His words were rapid and concise, all business. He seated himself in the chair next to Jenn.

  Jenn stood to shake his hand and exchange pleasantries. They both settled into their chairs and Dr. Angelo took out his pen to scribble something in his notebook. After a few seconds of writing he began his interview with Jenn.

  “May I call you Jenn?” She nodded her ascent. “Thank you. Jenn, I’ve reviewed 83 applicants who were all very qualified for the openings we’ve posted. Many from MIT, Cal Tech, and every other prestigious university you could name. There are a few with great work experience that would directly correlate to the requirements of the posted positions. You, on the other hand, have no experience and don’t have a college degree. Your test scores and grades in high school were off the charts - which is why I’m meeting with you - but you didn’t go directly to a reputable university. The position requires a degree. So, tell me, why are you here?”

  While he spoke, Jen remained stoic. Nothing he said seemed to have any effect on her at all. When he was done she looked at each of the men in the room in turn, then out the large windows to the scene beyond.

  “That’s a very interesting choice for a first question, Dr. Angelo. ‘Why are you here?’,” she paused a few seconds before continuing. “Most recently, I’m here because I got a ride from an Uber driver because my husband had to take our one-month-old daughter to a doctor’s appointment. I’m here because my husband is very supportive and is willing to forgo his career, for now, to stay home with the baby. Before that, because I felt there was nothing these so-called prestigious universities could teach me. Before that, because in high school I was able to demonstrate electromagnetic tunneling between objects eight inches apart using metamaterials, and while the other children played, I read books on quantum mechanics, nuclear physics, superconductivity, and neurophysiology. Could I have a glass of water before I continue, please?”

  The others in the room just stared at her until the engineer shook his head like he was in a daze and got up to pour her some water in a clear plastic cup. Jenn thanked him and took a long drink from the cup before she continued.

  “I’m here, gentlemen, because I can’t and won’t stop learning new things. I have an insatiable desire to know… everything, but I’ll settle for what you are experimenting with in the lab you haven’t told anybody about in the mountains over there.” She pointed toward the window with the tall mountains in the background.

  The men exchanged surprised looks. Dr. Angelo looked at each of them as they shook their heads to indicate they hadn’t told her anything about the mountain lab.

  Christine smiled as she watched the exchange.

  Jenn continued, “Oh, excellent. You do have a secret lab in the mountains. Given your background, Dr. Angelo, I assume it is an experimental cold fusion reactor. Oh, excuse me, low-energy nuclear reaction these days. Tell me, Dr. Angelo, how close are you to creating a more efficient source of generated muons?”

  Christine laughed out loud. That’s my girl, she thought. You guys just got Jenn’d.

  Dr. Angelo leaned back in his chair and put his pen down on the table. He ran his hand through his thinning grey hair and removed his glasses, looking sternly at Jenn.

  “My dear, officially, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, of course. Well, if you’re interested, I have several ideas I’ve been wanting to experiment with in more efficiently producing muons and causing the muons to catalyst more reactions…”

  The door to the conference room opened slowly and a young lady poked her head through the door. Christine remembered her as the administrative assistant from the front desk. She was a pleasant young lady who spoke with a thick southern accent.

  “I’m so sorry for interrupting, Dr. Angelo, but Mrs. Stevens, the security folks have told me your cell phone has been ringing over and over for the last several minutes. We thought maybe it was something important.”

  Christine watched as Jenn turn her chair around and got up quickly. “My apologies, gentlemen, but I need to go. Thank you for your time.”

  She left without waiting for a reply.

  Christine

  Christine followed her as she nearly jogged to the entrance where they took her phone. The security guard rushed her through the checkpoint so she could have it back. “It just kept ringing. I thought it might be an emergency,” he said as he handed it back to her with her purse.

  Jenn held the phone up. Christine positioned herself so she could see the screen as well. There were 12 missed calls. All from the local police department.

  “Oh no! No, no, no, no…” Jen took off at a run out of the building, skidding to a stop on the slushy sidewalk outside. Christine kept pace with her easily and almost ran into her when she stopped. Jenn pulled up her phone again, tapped on the screen a few times, and waited for something to process. Christine looked at the screen. It was a locator app. She was trying to get the last location of Charles’ phone.

  After an excruciating 15 seconds or so, the app indicated a location on a map. Jenn looked at the map for several seconds then closed her eyes for a brief moment and took off at a fast jog down the sidewalk. Christine followed as Jenn turned down a small alley between buildings. She slid a little as she made the turn, but barely slowed down. She continued to run straight at the brick wall that made a dead end at the end of the alley. Christine faltered a step. What was Jenn doing? They were going to run into a brick wall if she didn’t stop.

  A brilliant flash of light at the end of the alley made Christine cover her eyes. When she uncovered them, a large oval-shaped object hovered where the brick wall had been. The edges of the object shimmered and distorted the space around it, like looking through water. Everything immediately around the object looked stretched in places and compressed in others. Inside the object, Christine could see snow covered trees and accumulating snow on the ground. It looked like a city park or small forest. The smell of smoke wafted through the opening.

  Not an object, Christine thought, a portal. Jenn was going to transport to where Charles and her baby were.

  Jenn picked up speed at the s
ight of the portal and ran into it without hesitation. Christine sprinted after her, appearing instantly in the park. She felt nothing as she stepped through.

  It was snowing heavier on this side of the city. The scene was a white out, thick flakes swirling hard in every direction. Christine stopped and looked for Jenn, shielding her eyes from the snow. She spotted her ahead, running toward the road across the field.

  Christine’s heart sank. Up the road, about a hundred feet, was a mass of mangled metal, flashing emergency lights, and flames. The orange fire stood out brilliantly against the white snow, beautiful and terrible. She began running as fast as she could after Jenn.

  Jenn had reached the scene by the time Christine caught up to her. With the help of Jenn’s memories, Christine immediately recognized one of the mangled vehicles as theirs. The car was wedged under the tires of a huge tractor trailer. Its front end was nearly flattened under the weight of the truck. The tractor trailer had jackknifed, and the car was pinned directly between the two parts of the large vehicle. Everything was on fire. The falling snow melted to water all around the inferno.

  Christine could smell diesel mixed with the billowing smoke. The truck and car were almost completely burnt out. Bent metal, broken glass, and shards of hard plastic littered the immediate area.

  The emergency vehicles on scene parked sideways to block traffic and provide assistance, but the emergency personnel were staying well back from the crash. There was no fire truck. Christine wondered if the road conditions were slowing down their response time. Her mind went numb. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It didn’t seem possible.

  Jenn slowed slightly as she took in the scene. In front of her were three police officers trying to approach the fire for a closer look. As Jenn approached them, she threw her hands out in front of her, then out to the sides and the officers were pushed out of her path. Two of them flew more than 15 feet to the left, landing hard on the snowy pavement, while the other skidded across the ground into a ditch. Jenn paid them no attention, her gaze fixed on the crash.

 

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