by Alex Marcoux
The humming noise was now louder, making it difficult for Jessie to concentrate. How could a cart drive through a concrete wall? The humming was also now accompanied by the sound of electrical discharge. Jessie rushed to the archway of the BeMER room. Sparks flashed around the Cherubs’ fingers.
“We have only minutes before detonation,” Jessie hurried back to the wall.
Rachel was behind her. “Jess, can’t you abort the Ark?”
She shook her head. “No.”
They needed help. Jessie closed her eyes, bringing her to the darkness. She hoped that her higher self would offer some intuitive guidance, but there were no insightful flashes. No answers. Desperate, she called for help.
Charlie? Are you there? I need your help…Charlie?
“Jessie, I am here.”
How do I get out of here?
“The wall is like Aaron’s budding rod. It’s like the legend of the phoenix.”
I don’t understand.
“It’s a virtual reality. Aaron’s rod never budded; it only appeared to. The fire that burned the phoenix never existed, but in your mind it did, so it appeared real, and burned.”
Are you telling me the wall isn’t there?
“Jess, what are we going to do?” Rachel’s voice and the sound of angry sparks brought her back.
She grabbed the hoodwink in Rachel’s hand. “I need you to trust me, Rachel. We don’t have much time.” She slipped the blindfold over her head. “Walk with me. I’ll take you out of here,” she spoke calmly.
It would be easy to get Rachel out. All she needed to do was disorient her and walk her through the wall. For Jessie however, it was a mind game. She needed to convince herself that the wall didn’t exist. Anything short of that would bar her from bringing them to safety.
Holding Rachel’s hand, she circled the area, She was reminded of her meditative walks through the temple’s hypostyle, where she elevated her thoughts to higher ideals. Using the same principles she surrendered to her higher self, knowing that it would see beyond the wall.
As she approached the wall on her second rotation, for a split second, she glimpsed the sterile lobby on the other side. The vision increased her confidence, disarming the concrete wall. Steadily, she stepped through it with Rachel by her side.
It was like stepping from a dark room into the sunlight. The bright lobby was deserted. Jessie yanked the blindfold from Rachel’s head. She tugged her, and spoke urgently. “We need to run!”
The sudden bright light hurt Rachel’s eyes. She was in the lobby. She turned and glimpsed the concrete wall behind them. “How?” she murmured.
“Come!” Jessie was forceful, and dragged her as she explained. “The wall isn’t there. When the Ark ignites, there’s nothing to protect us.”
The women bolted through the lobby, just past the vacant receptionist desk when the Ark detonated.
Jessie hauled Rachel face down on the ground. She wrapped her arm over Rachel’s head, covering her eyes. “Don’t look at the light,” she yelled. Sudden blasts of hot violent wind rushed over their bodies. Then, superfluous lightning bolts fired into the lobby, above their heads.
A deafening roar followed with rumbling of exploding debris. Continuous hot blasts shot fragments of crystallized carbon at the women, scoring their exposed skin. To Rachel and Jessie, it felt as if hurricane-force winds were hurling shattered glass at them. All at once, the hot gusts and lightening ceased. Falling wreckage rumbled, and the sprinkling of smashed diamonds sounded around them. And then—silence.
Jessie lifted her head. Her neck was raw from where her bare skin had been exposed to the razor-sharp fragments. The back of her right hand was covered in blood from similar scoring. Rachel shifted beneath Jessie’s left arm. She raised her head.
The women got to their feet, shaking slivers of glasslike particles from their sweat suits. Rachel had similar slices on her skin, but to a lesser degree since Jessie had covered her head. The right side of Jessie’s face was badly scratched.
The room was not so bright and sterile anymore. Only half the lights remained illuminated. The imaginary stone wall that had separated the lobby from the hidden areas was now gone. Instead, the room had doubled in size, with debris and wreckage cluttering the far end of the area.
Rachel started laughing softly. “We did it, Jess! We destroyed it.”
Jessie knew they didn’t have time to relish their victory. “Let’s get out of here.” She grabbed Rachel’s hand and they ran stiffly to the door that would lead to the tunnels. Jessie’s bleeding hand turned the lever, but as she opened the door, two Secret Service agents stepped inside. With guns drawn, they blocked their exit.
Rachel and Jessie turned only to see Kek and Whitman emerge from one of the specimen rooms. Jessie had seen the same anger and disappointment in Kek’s eyes before. The last time, she had paid with her life.
“Do you know what you have done?” Kek’s voice, once resonating, was now weary.
“Something that should have been done a long time ago,” Rachel said defiantly.
Kek staggered, and Whitman supported his arm. Jessie wondered if his unsteady walk was from the devastation of losing the BeMER machine and treasures, or the sedative.
“We don’t need her,” Whitman said. “We have my sons for succession.”
“We certainly don’t need her,” Kek pointed at Jessie and nodded to one of the men behind her.
Almost simultaneously, Jessie felt a sting on her back and she fell into darkness.
Rachel grabbed Jessie as she plummeted to the floor. “No!” she screamed. She saw the dart lodged in her back, and plucked it out.
“Destroy her!” Kek ordered, his voice now stronger.
One of the Secret Service men attempted to lift Jessie, but Rachel lashed out, kicking and slapping him. “No! Get away from her!” she screamed. Strong arms grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms.
The other agent hoisted Jessie over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Destroy her,” Kek said with pleasure.
The man nodded, and carried Jessie’s unresponsive body toward one of the labs.
Rachel squirmed in the other agents arms. She tried kicking the man’s shins and biting his forearm, but he was just too strong, and the more she struggled, the tighter his clutch became. She felt helpless and desperate. What could she do? She couldn’t believe the words as they escaped her lips. “I will do it. Damn you, Daddy. I’ll join you, I’ll be your pawn, just don’t kill her,” There was emptiness in Rachel’s heart as she pledged her devotion to her father.
“We don’t need her,” Whitman said convincingly to Kek.
“But you do need me. Without me, there’ll be a fault in succession. You need blood to maintain your reign. Daddy, without me, your control is vulnerable.”
The man that was carrying Jessie had opened the door to one of the labs.
“Daddy, if you kill her—you’ll never have me. Send her back safely and I’ll promise you my loyalty.” Tears ran down her cheeks. She realized that she had once again joined Abaddon, and made a pact with the devil.
Chapter Forty-Two
Daylight filtered through the venetian blinds and into her eyes. She covered her face, trying to stop the ray of sunlight from penetrating her reality.
“Good afternoon. It’s good to see you stir,” an unfamiliar voice said.
Jessie opened her eyes and squinted. “Who are you?”
“I’m Barbara.” She was dressed in white. “I’m your nurse today.”
“Nurse?” Jessie was confused. “Where am I?” She looked around the small room. She was lying in a hospital bed.
“Oh, you don’t remember?”
Jessie shook her head, quickly realizing something was different. She lifted her hands—they were so heavy. Her fingers moved through her hair, “What happened to my hair?”
“What do you mean, dear?”
“What do I mean?” Jessie stepped from the bed. Her legs buckled and s
he toppled to the floor. Her limbs felt as if they weren’t part of her body.
Barbara rushed to her with a walker. She helped her to her feet. “Dear, you’ve been in bed for a week. You’re going to need some PT before you start jumping around.”
Jessie was stunned. What was wrong with her body? Feebly, she took the walker and approached a wall-mounted mirror. She gazed into a stranger’s eyes and gasped.
“You should be in bed, dear,” the nurse said.
“Someone cut my hair,” Jessie mumbled. Her hair was short, lacking style. There was something else. She was pale. When had she ever been pale living in southern California? She was thinner. But also, crow’s-feet blemished her skin around her eyes. And there was a visible streak of gray hair above her forehead.
“Your hair was that way when you arrived. You’ve been through a traumatic experience. Perhaps you should lie down.” The nurse led Jessie back to the bed.
“Where am I?”
“Holloman Hospital, dear.”
“For the mentally disturbed? What the hell am I doing here?”
“You’re awake,” a man’s voice came from the doorway. “Barbara, why don’t you let me speak with Ms. Mercer for a few minutes?” With that said, the nurse left.
“Who are you?” Jessie asked suspiciously.
“I’m Dr. Lenore. Jessica, what is the last thing you remember?”
“What I remember about what?” But just then, memories of her brother’s funeral flooded back. “Oh, my God!” It was only a whisper, “Steve died.”
The doctor nodded. “Is that the last thing you remember?”
Tears came to her eyes. “I was at his funeral in the church.” Jessie rubbed the tears away. “What am I doing here? What happened to my hair?”
“Ms. Mercer, this is going to be a shock for you. But your brother passed away over a year ago. You’ve had a nervous breakdown, and most recently you’re recovering from a suicide attempt.”
* * *
Hours later, Jessie was lying in bed. She was mulling over her conversation with Dr. Lenore. It didn’t make any sense. Although the loss of her brother had occurred over a year ago, it felt as if it had happened yesterday. What happened to me? What happened to the missing year?
Alison stood in the doorway and knocked. “Jessie, how are you feeling?”
“It’s nice to see a familiar face,” Jessie gestured for her to enter.
Alison smiled. She approached Jessie’s bed. “Do you mind if I sit?” She hopped on the bed. She was shocked at how awful Jessie looked. Then again, she had just attempted suicide. How was she supposed to have looked? “You really had me scared, Jessie. You should have told me you were back in town. We could have done dinner or something. I felt just terrible when I saw the report on the news.”
“What report?”
“You know…when you tried to kill yourself.”
“I didn’t try to kill myself,” Jessie said defensively. Clearly frustrated, she confided in her friend. “To be honest, I don’t remember any of it. The last year is gone. How did I supposedly try to kill myself, anyway?”
“Sleeping pills.”
“God…I wish I could remember.”
“Do you remember Desert Disaster? The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, and the United Nations almost bringing us into World War III?”
“The United Nations almost brought us to world war?” She nodded, “No.”
“It’s probably just as well. People were just crazy, especially the UN members.”
“When did all this happen?”
“It climaxed in late January. It didn’t look good. England and the United States were on opposing sides, and then overnight everyone just seemed to come to their senses. Personally, I think it had to do with the stars or voodoo.”
Jessie changed the subject. “I haven’t seen Taylor, yet. How did she take it?”
“Girl, you’ll be lucky if Taylor ever gives you the time of day.” Jessie’s heart thumped. “Why?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Alison, I swear the last thing I remember was being at Steve’s funeral.”
“Jessie…you met someone in New York. From what I’ve heard, you dumped Taylor in January. It’s the middle of May.”
Jessie’s heart felt sick. She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.
* * *
An hour passed and Barbara brought in a tray of food. She handed Jessie a small paper cup. “Here, take your medication first.”
Jessie studied the pills in her palm. “Medication? What is it?”
“Sedatives and antidepressants.”
“I’m not depressed, and I certainly don’t need a sedative,” Jessie whined.
“Doctor’s orders.” Barbara smiled.
While Barbara fetched the lunch tray, Jessie slipped the pills beneath the pillow. She mimicked dumping the pills into her mouth and swallowing them with water.
“Open wide. I need to see that you took your meds.”
Jessie opened her mouth for inspection.
“Thanks! Are you going to be up for a little sunshine after your lunch?”
Jessie looked outside through the blinds. The thought of soaking up sunshine had never sounded better. “I would like that, Barbara.”
“You had a visitor earlier. When you first arrived a few others visited.”
“Who?”
“I’m terrible with names. But one was a singer, oh, what’s her name now—”
“Taylor? Taylor Andrews?”
“That could be. The one from the movie Deceptions. She came a few times.”
Jessie was hopeful that Taylor had visited. “And who else?”
“There was an attractive brunette in her mid-thirties, and she was with a good-looking man. I think she was on one of those TV newsmagazines. I don’t know which one, maybe Dateline or 48 Hours, or perhaps Over the Edge.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
* * *
Rachel studied Jessie’s every move from the other side of the two-way mirror. She smiled when she saw her stash the meds beneath her pillow. “She doesn’t remember a thing,” Rachel whispered.
“I told you she wouldn’t.” Kek stood behind her in the dark room.
It’s going to be difficult for her. Her life has been shattered. She’s lost her brother, her partner, and a year of her life.”
“The alternative was death. This was our deal, Rachel,” he reminded her.
Commotion in the rear of the room drew their attention to Jacob. The Secret Service agent rushed into the restroom. Since they had arrived, Jacob—Kek’s bodyguard—had been suffering flulike symptoms. Kek and Rachel heard the man throwing up on the other side of the door.
Kek’s attention returned to Jessie. “I have lived up to my end of the deal .
“Yes you have, Kek.”
Rachel had become accustomed to calling her father Kek since that dreadful day, when she pledged her allegiance to him. In the months that had followed, she had shadowed him, quickly learning from him.
Powerlessly, Rachel had observed Kek brainwash Jessie, removing all traces of her memory since Steve’s funeral. The only stipulation to their agreement was that Rachel wouldn’t join Kek until Jessie was back in her life, safely. This was the purpose of their visit to California.
“You’ve seen her. It’s time to start your new life, Rachel.”
Rachel’s eyes met her father’s. “Yes. We should head back to DC.”
Jacob opened the restroom door. He stood silently, waiting for orders.
“Are you okay, Jacob?” Kek asked.
“Absolutely, sir!” But he was noticeably pale.
Kek moved to the door, and Jacob waited for Rachel to follow. She approached the window and positioned her hand on the glass that separated the women. Silently, she looked at her friend lying in bed. Good-bye Jessie. Be well, my friend. Sadly, her hand dropped from the mirror, and she fell in line behind Kek.
Chapter Forty-Three
Je
ssie was wheeled outside to the hospital grounds. Maybe it was psychological, but she felt better breathing fresh air and soaking up sunshine. She couldn’t remember the sun ever feeling this pleasurable on her skin. The attendant parked her about ten feet from another wheelchair.
“Any chance of getting a cane?” Jessie asked the aide.
“Not unless you have a PT release,” she said. “Feel free to spin your wheels, though.” She walked away laughing at her pun.
The man in the nearby wheelchair was engaged in a heated discussion with himself. A woman sat on a bench on the opposite side of her, rocking back and forth. Jessie gazed around the gardens. The grassy grounds were perhaps an acre, with a security fence surrounding it. The property was pleasantly landscaped with benches, spread out for privacy. And yet, the few patients were heaped together.
Jessie released the brake on the wheelchair and attempted to move it. She didn’t get very far. Her arms were sore. With her fingers, she squeezed her forearms and biceps. Then she touched her thighs. Her normally firm and muscular body was now soft. Had she stopped exercising? She couldn’t imagine not leading an active life.
Her hands pushed the large wheels and the chair crept bit by bit over the grass. Sore or not, Jessie intended to find a more remote area to soak up the rays and sort things out. What had happened to her? How could things have become so dreadful that she resorted to suicide? How could she have ever cheated on Taylor? None of it made any sense. It was like a nightmare—and she wanted to wake up.
Jessie had motored the chair just past the rocking woman. Her arms ached from fatigue. She shook them. Then she pressed on, until her arms burned. The attendant must have noticed her struggling, because someone began pushing the wheelchair from behind.
Embarrassed, Jessie hung her head. “Thank you.” She pointed to an isolated bench at the far end of the property. “Can you take me there?”
As they approached the bench, “Would you stop here, please?” They were about eight feet from the bench. “I’d like to walk.”
The chair brake was set. Jessie strained to stand and the aide helped her to her feet. She stood unsteadily, eyeing the path to the bench. “Thank you. I’d like to try this alone.” She shuffled her feet over the grass. It was exhausting and about halfway there, she stopped. She heard approaching footsteps and lifted her arm. “Please,” she panted, “I need to do this.”
