The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set

by Carissa Andrews

  Mike takes Gabe’s hand in his and looks up expectantly. “Now what?”

  “This is going to feel weird at first, but whatever you do, don't let go,” Gabe says. “At least not until you start to get the hang of it on your own.”

  Mike nods but doesn't say another word.

  Gabe closes his eyes for the briefest of moments and the two of them light up like a brilliant sunrise. Seconds later, they shimmer out of existence.

  As the observer, it’s the kind of thing that would make you second-guess what you even saw. It’s such a natural, but unusual, event.

  Thirty-seconds or so later, they return, and Mike's face is full of questions.

  “That was…” he begins.

  “Super weird?” I offer.

  “Definitely,” he says. “But incredible. I mean, I had no idea this was a thing. You know? The ramifications and applications something like this could have in the world of physics… ”

  “Pretty sure it’s not meant to be handed over to ordinary life. Am I right?” I say, turning to Gabe.

  He shakes his head. “Pretty sure it’s not something they can grasp. Quite honestly, I’m not even sure if they can witness it. But I’ve never really given it much thought.”

  “Experiencing it now, I wonder if we can harness the energy behind veil-walking so it couples with my machine. I mean, if we can walk between veils, why couldn't we walk between times?” Mike asks. “It’s basically the same thing from a time and space vantage point. Everything is very fluid.”

  “Actually, that’s a fair point. Have you ever been able to walk between different times?” I ask, leaning forward on my chair. “Maybe this whole machine is irrelevant.”

  “No, I've only been able to go into different realities within the same time frame. But that could just be my gift, or the way I can use it. I’ve seen other angels with abilities I didn’t have.”

  “Well, for now, I think it’s best to get the machine. If it’s been successful at communicating with the past, it may give us the foot in the door we need to push the veil-walking more to … time-walking?” I say.

  “Fair enough,” Gabe agrees. “We should get going.”

  Mike tips his head. “Can you show me again how the veil-walking is done, real quick? I mean, if you don’t mind. But this time, explain it a bit. It’ll help me figure out if we can map the machine differently.”

  Gabe takes a deep breath and says, “I’m no physicist, but imagine lifting a curtain—one that leads to the reality you're looking for—like lifting a curtain so you can look outside from your living room. With veil-walking, your mind has to focus on it, but it’s your higher self that does all the driving. It's not always easy, especially if you don't have an anchor to guide the way or ground you when you try to come back.”

  “So you just need a better idea of where you’re trying to go? We would work with that—add in algorithms to accommodate for known data to make the machine more accurate. What if someone like Morgan or Bea were the ones to attempt to veil-walk to the past? If they have a better frame of reference for this savior, maybe they can focus on it enough?” Mike suggests.

  “Morgan has always been along for the ride with me, but her calling is something different. I’m not sure why or how. But she’s never been able to veil-walk on her own. We consider her a bridge; somehow, her soul is directly linked to those of us who have angelic essence, but she doesn't have the abilities we do.”

  “Okay, so would you be able to bring her with you if you were successful? You know, the way you do through the veils?” I say.

  “If Mike’s machine is somehow able to boost my energy output—or any of ours, really—then, sure, it's possible. But I think it would work better if we can all do it together. If we all work as a unit, there's a better chance of raising our vibration to the level we need to in order to be able to manipulate space and time and get us to where we really want to go,” Gabe says.

  “My brain is on overload,” I say. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Yeah, but it’s some really cool stuff,” Mike says, his eyes lit up like a Las Vegas billboard.

  “All right, I want the two of you to come here,” Gabe says. “Each of you, take my hands. We need to get this done quickly and get back for the next phase. Mike is going to be the anchor because he's the one who knows where his lab is, what it looks like, etc. His overall direction will be sound. Together, we'll just amplify his ability to do so. Does that make sense? I understand this is vague, but we need to get moving.”

  Both Mike and I bob our heads up and down.

  “Mike, I want you to visualize exactly where your lab is and where you want us to materialize at. When you're ready squeeze our hands. We'll be visualizing being your engine to make it possible,” Gabe commands.

  “Got it,” Mike says, as he closes his eyes. “At least, I hope I do.”

  The three of us stand in the kitchen facing each other and holding hands like we’re about to summon one of the ancient gods. After a moment, Mike squeezes both of our hands and I begin to picture myself being able to grant his request.

  It feels kind of like the anticipation of how a good friend will react when they open a gift you’ve put a lot of thought and effort into giving them. The next thing I know, the three of us are holding hands in the middle of sterile hallway full of ultra-bright LED lights and little else.

  “Whoa,” I mutter under my breath.

  Besides the soft hum of machinery and electricity, the entire building has the same eerie stillness that’s followed us since the International Space Station dropped across the interstate.

  Without missing a beat Mike drops his hands and turns on his heel.

  “Come on guys, it's this way,” he says as he leads us toward a large, open area with a glass encasement that spans from floor to ceiling. He flings back one of the enormous glass doors, and inside, there are massive machines and computer monitors everywhere.

  “What does all this stuff do?” I ask, unable to hide the awe the space inspires.

  I mean, I get technology—but this is taking it all to a whole new level.

  Mike grins. “It would probably take way too long to explain it all to you. Uh, no offense, Braham.”

  I chuckle softly and shrug. “None taken. I’d have a helluva hard time explaining all the equipment I use, too.”

  Mike laughs and slips the left side of his mouth upward. “I just meant we didn’t have time.”

  “Oh,” I chuckle.

  “It's not far from here. We just need to go into the temperature-controlled area, and we’ll be at the time machine equipment,” Mike says, punching some codes into the touchpad.

  The lock accepts whatever code he punches in and disengages, slowly sliding the door back to a tiny enclosed entryway. When the door slides back in place behind us, we both turn to Mike expectantly.

  “The system is just waiting for the air to regulate before we move into the main part of the lab. It’s like a decompression chamber, only its job is to keep the temperature in here from fluctuating even the smallest amount,” Mike says, scrunching his face as he tries to find the clearest way to describe what’s happening.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say, rolling my hand in the air, “Just show us where we gotta go.”

  Mike grins apologetically, “All right, this way.”

  We follow him around the glass porch to the immediate left.

  “I need to take the brain from the main section of the machine. There’s a lot of additional components we’ve used to make this work, but none of it is necessary for the way we’re going to use it,” Mike says, searching a drawer. He pulls out a pair of pliers, wire snippers, and a screwdriver set. “This will just take a minute.”

  Gabe nods, standing off to the side and watching his every move.

  A cold chill races up my spine, and I shiver. The temperature control in here must be getting to me.

  Rather than hovering over Mike’s shoulder, I walk away. Partly to warm up, partly t
o see what else is in a physics lab.

  Mike’s right. It’s all well over my pay grade, and I wouldn’t have the first guess at what any of the machines are trying to accomplish. Each one looks similar, yet vastly different at the same time.

  “Are you certain that’s the only piece you need?” Gabe says, leaning over Mike’s shoulder to get a better look.

  “One hundred percent,” Mike says. “See this part here? This is the equipment we’ll use to input the details we get from Morgan and the others. The computer will then map out the algorithms based on the mathematical equations most relevant. It’s far more accurate than a human mind, that’s for sure.”

  “Interesting,” Gabe mutters, clasping his hands behind his back.

  I continue to walk around the room, trying to stay warm. How the scientists can spend an entire day in here without wearing parkas and balaclavas is beyond me.

  Despite my movement, however, nothing seems to alleviate the chill—if anything, it’s continued to rise until it’s almost an alarm bell tickling at the inside of my brain.

  Finally, I turn to the other two.

  “Can you feel that?” I ask.

  Gabe looks up with curiosity at first, but his eyes immediately show concern when they land on my expression.

  “What is it? What are you sensing?” he asks, standing up straighter.

  “I don’t know—could be nothing,” I say, my gaze softening as I try to place it. “I just feel … off. Like there’s a chill that’s gone straight through me. Bone chilling, even.”

  Mike shakes his head. “Probably just the cold draft in here. We need to keep all of the electronic equipment pretty cold; otherwise, it will malfunction, and we can’t have that. Takes some getting used to, that’s for sure.”

  “No, I don't think that's it. I thought it was at first, but… something … doesn't feel right,” I whisper, looking over my shoulder.

  Gabe tips his ear to the ceiling as if listening to the vibrations of the air.

  “Mike, we need to leave the machine for now,” Gabe says firmly, reaching for Mike’s forearm. “The demons have found us—we need to leave now. There's no amount of progress we’ll make here that can solve things if we are dead.”

  “They’re here? How do you know? I mean, really—it’s probably just the AC,” Mike counters.

  Gabe takes a step back, looking around. “No, I feel it too. It’s not the same. It’s a much deeper chill, something that doesn’t sit well in our energy. If you stop for a moment, I’m sure you’ll feel it too.”

  Mike walks to the other side of the room, grabbing a small screwdriver from the counter that wasn’t in his kit, “I really only need a minute or two at most. The hard part is already done. I’m almost—”

  “No, leave it,” Gabe urges, tugging on Mike's jacket. The urgency relayed by a single look is enough to stop my heart and flip my stomach.

  “Hang on, literally, it’s just—got it,” Mike says, pulling the machine apart from a much larger encasement. He flings the screwdriver and disconnects one of the inner wires from a port. Looking up, he clutches the contraption and its dangling wires to his chest. “Let’s go.”

  Gabe grabs hold of my arm and reaches for Mike to do the same. Mike takes a step toward us just as dark, shadowy tendrils flail about at the edges of the ceiling’s seams. The demon enters the room in the same way water seeps into the creases of a cardboard box.

  The inky-black shadow slides across the white surface of the walls, removing any traces of its former lighter appearance. Instantly, the room begins to tilt and the air feels like it’s been sucked into a vacuum. The once-cool room drops another twenty degrees, and my breath billows out in front of me.

  Without any thought, I break from Gabe’s grasp and head toward the door. The sliding glass pulls back, sealing me in for a moment as both Gabe and Mike stare at me in shock. As the second sliding glass door opens, they are already at the first door, waiting for access. But Gabe must realize there isn’t time and grabs Mike’s arm, veil-walking them out of the space before the demon can reach them.

  I race toward the hallway we originally entered from, flinging open the large glass door and immediately turning left. Both Gabe and Mike follow suit, racing behind me, close on my heels.

  “Your senses are growing stronger, my friend. We should have listened sooner,” Gabe says, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring. “But you should have waited for us; we’d be back in the sanctuary already.”

  “Sorry,” I yell back, “my feet did all the thinking.”

  “They had the right idea,” Gabe says through labored breaths.

  The three of us race down the corridor, trying to put as much distance as possible between us and the demon. As our feet hit the tiles, they echo in this enclosed space like a sea of galloping horses.

  “Stop. Both of you come here. I think we’re far enough. We need to go. Let me grab hold of you,” Gabe says, splaying his arms out again.

  I pull up short, my lungs bursting at the seams as I reach my hand out for him. He clasps his left hand around my right wrist and twists back around to Mike who reaches out in return. But everything happens so fast that the motion of it throws him off-kilter. The time machine jostles in his other arm and he pulls back his hand, overcompensating in order to not let it fall. As if in slow motion, the machine slips out of his hands like a wet baby just out of a bath, rolling in the air and landing on the floor. The sound echoes like a gunshot against the walls, and the next thing I see is the dark, smoky tendrils of the demon racing sideways along the walls toward us. But it’s not alone. Two others have joined it, enveloping the entire hallway in an all-consuming darkness beyond the three of us.

  The moment Mike realizes how close they are, his mouth gapes open and he dives for the machine. Like a man placing his body over a bomb that's about to explode, Mike lands on the floor and pulls the hunk of metal and wires in close.

  “Mike, get back here,” Gabe yells, bending forward and extending his free arm out as far as he can. “Leave it.”

  The demons move quickly, until they’re right on top of us.

  Gabe drops my hand, lunging for Mike and yanking on his leg to drag him backward.

  The closest of the inky-black tendrils reaches him first, splaying the etherial darkness across the top of his forearm, then slowly makes its way up his neck.

  “It's okay, leave me—go,” Mike says.

  “Not a chance,” Gabe retorts.

  Racing to Gabe’s side, I grab Mike’s other leg, trying to get him away from the demon.

  “I can’t veil-walk us out when it’s attached—the demon’s too strong,” Gabe says, his face hardening.

  “How do we get it off?” I yell back. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, but the look on Gabe’s face tells me I already know the answer. My mouth drops open, and it feels like all air has been sucked out of my lungs. “No…”

  Gabe’s forehead creases, but his eyes flit up to the two other demons closing in on us.

  “We need to…” he begins.

  “Don’t even say leave him,” I retort. “Don’t—”

  The demon latches on to Mike’s head and yanks him clear out of our grasp.

  “Without our connection, he won’t be able to fight it off,” Gabe says, trying to get back to him.

  Mike’s face twists and contorts, trying to fight off the demon on his own. He’s strong—his happiness and kind heart are powerful but not quite enough, and he knows it. With a look of determination, he slides the machine down, then kicks it to us in a swift movement.

  “Run!” he screams.

  “We don't know how to operate that thing, not without you,” I yell, trying to get hold of him. “Get up.”

  “Go,” he says, pulling his legs back from me. Desperation fills his eyes.

  I watch in horror as the demon finally gains entry, soaking into Mike's skin and making its way through his veins. It rises, entering into his irises until it extinguishes the light from their ord
inary, curious nature. A burst of energy, like a lightbulb exploding, throws us back against the wall, and both Gabe and I crumple to the ground.

  My ears ring, and I raise my right hand, trying to clear away the cobwebs from my mind.

  “Braham, grab hold of my hand now,” Gabe demands.

  I shake my head and point. “But Mike—”

  The two other demons are within feet of us, and Mike’s limbs begins to jut out in odd angles. It’s as if the demon inside him needs a moment to learn the controls.

  Gabe shudders. “He's gone; we have to leave now. Grab the device and let's go.”

  I reach out for Mike's machine and scramble back toward Gabe. He clutches at the top of my forearm, and I close my eyes. The next thing I know, I’m hurtled through the veils, but something is off. For a moment I lose contact with Gabe, I don't know why—maybe he was pulled from me, or maybe I wrenched my arm away from him. Either way, I find myself in something I can only describe as a place in between realities. Nothing around me has shape or form, but it somehow still has a presence all its own.

  Closing my eyes, I focus in on where I need to go to get back to Gabe and the others. But all I can think about is Mike and how he was willing to sacrifice himself for us. I keep reliving his eyes as the light was extinguished and the demon took over.

  It wasn't fair.

  We should have been able to stop it. Maybe if I hadn’t run—

  Suddenly, I'm back in the hallway of the laboratory building, but no one is around. No demons, no Gabe or Mike. Confused, I walk tentatively toward Mike's lab. As I get closer, I see the three of us standing in the small enclosed entryway, as if waiting to get back into his freezing-cold lab.

  “What the fuck?” I stutter, taking a step back.

  I don't have time to fully form the questions rampaging in my mind before I'm ripped from the moment and pulled back toward the safety of the sanctuary.

  I crumple into a ball, clutching the machine to my chest.

  15

  Morgan

  My mouth pops open, “You can’t be implying what I think you are. I’m not an angel—I'm just the bridge for you.”