The Prophecies Trilogy (Omnibus Edition): A Dystopian Adventure

by Linda Hawley

  Chow looked over at me when he saw it. “There is some deeper meaning, I think.”

  “Yes. I don’t understand what it means, but it is something. I feel it.”

  “So do I,” Chow said as he looked into my eyes.

  Something passed between us, but I didn’t understand what.

  Chapter 39

  BARCELONA, SPAIN

  The Year 2015

  After our extraordinary three-hour bike tour, we cleaned up and then went downstairs to eat Tapas.

  “You clean up nice,” I said to Chow as he stepped out of his room, dressed in green khaki pants, a yellow button-down shirt, and a tie with an Art Nouveau graphic design in bold colors.

  Chow smiled.

  I approached him, looking at his tie. “Where did you get this?” I asked him.

  “At the gift shop downstairs. The bike tour inspired me,” he said happily.

  “I like the tie. It’s beautiful.”

  As I looked at Chow, I realized that he looked as though a crayon box had spilled its colors.

  “Can I ask one thing?”

  “Let me guess, you really hate my tie?”

  I chuckled. “No, I love your tie. But can we keep dinner casual and ditch the tie?”

  “I knew you would say that.”

  “How?” I challenged him.

  “I just knew,” he said smugly.

  “Okay, smarty-pants. So you were right. I do love the tie—just not with that shirt.”

  “I wore it just so you could tell me not to,” he said with a wink.

  “You are one sick guy.”

  He nodded his head, smiling, so I gave him a hug. As we dislodged, his watch got stuck in my hair.

  “Ouch,” I said, perturbed.

  “Oh…Ann…are you okay?” he said as he detangled my hair from his dive watch.

  “I’m okay,” I answered while rubbing my head.

  “You also look very pretty tonight,” he told me, trying to make me feel better.

  “Even without all my hair?”

  He chuckled. “You always look pretty,” he said, sincerity showing through his eyes.

  “Why thank you, kind sir,” I said, bowing to him, still holding my head.

  He smiled in response to my playfulness. “Want to go eat?” he asked, knowing I would bolt for the door immediately.

  The Arola restaurant was right on the beach; I teased Chow about his disappointment that the models’ photo shoot had dispersed. We ordered the cold and hot plates to share in the blue-accented modern room. Both Chow and I loved the carpaccio of tuna with tomato and goat cheese. He made fun of the look on my face as I enjoyed it, saying I would likely dream of it tonight. Our splendid meal was followed by a leisurely stroll along the beach, my arm looped through his.

  “It’s been a good day,” I said, smiling at him.

  “A wonderful day,” he agreed, returning my smile. “What do you think of that statue of Mary in the alley?”

  “Seeing it, I felt reverent. It was a spiritual moment for me.”

  “I agree. It felt otherworldly. Do you think it has anything to do with The Prophecies?”

  I had to consider Chow’s question. We walked in silence for some time.

  “I can see us trying to connect everything to The Prophecies—and our role in them. But sometimes spiritual things are just that—simple peaceful moments when you know that God exists.” I then looked over at him, and he nodded.

  “Shall we go back and take care of our objective before our meeting later?”

  “Yes. But I can’t promise I’ll wake up from our co-dreaming. I’m full, and I’m tired.”

  We lay side by side in the bed and prepared for our session. Our goal was to create a back door to access the Indian databases remotely. Soon after falling asleep, we found ourselves there in the dream together.

  Chow had an Indian government ID clipped to his shirt’s lapel. It was the dead of night, and I was driving us to the facility in a black SUV. Since my appearance would be more of a red flag in the government facility than Chow, we decided that he would go in alone.

  “Be careful,” I told him just before he exited the car.

  “I will. Don’t worry.”

  “I won’t. I know you can defend yourself.”

  The car door closed quietly behind him. I set the timer on my watch. Earlier, I had remote viewed the site at this exact time to understand the personnel and layout. With all this known ahead of time, we expected that it would take Chow twenty to thirty minutes to plant the code at the server, granting us access from outside.

  While he was inside, I tried to open-eye meditate to remain calm. I didn’t like waiting; patience was a virtue I didn’t have. At thirty-five minutes, my nervousness was in earnest. I started to consider the options just as the car door opened, startling me.

  “You scared me,” I nearly yelled at Chow.

  “Drive, Ann. Now,” he said quietly but firmly.

  The car was idling, and I took off, asking, “What’s going on?”

  “I saw someone I recognized in there.”

  “Who?” I said, as I drove like an Indy driver.

  “Shubham.”

  “Oh my goodness,” I reeled. “A spy?”

  “Yes. I knew something was wrong about him in India.”

  “Is he chasing us?” I asked, briefly looking over at him with alarm.

  “I do not think so. I saw him, but I do not think he saw me,” he said as he looked back, out the window. “I had just finished installing the software and was covering my entry into the system, when my gut reacted, and adrenaline began to pump through me. I immediately finished my work, replacing everything as it was, and peeked out through a window in a door, seeing down a hall. Shubham was coming toward the door to the room I was in. I quietly exited the way I had come in—out the opposing door. He never saw me, but I saw him.”

  “And you’re sure it was Shubham?”

  “I am certain—both with my eyes and my gut. I immediately left the building. Ann, I think he knew I was coming.”

  “Oh no. How?”

  “I don’t know. You did remote view the site. Could Shubham also be a remote viewer?”

  I answered with another question. “But how would he know the exact time I was viewing the target?”

  There was silence as Chow pondered my question. I was driving carefully, but fast.

  “The apartment. Peekers. Ann, we need to leave this dream now!” he exclaimed urgently.

  I imagined myself returning to our apartment, becoming heavy inside my body, lying on the bed.

  We woke at about the same time. I felt grossly unsettled—it chilled me.

  Chow turned close to me and whispered in my ear, “We’re leaving here in thirty seconds. It’s not safe. Leave everything except your ID.”

  I jumped off the bed as if it were made of hot coals. After grabbing my messenger bag containing my ID, we were out the door and in the elevator, riding it down alone. My body was blazing with adrenaline, and I wondered what we would find outside the hotel.

  We exited the hotel and caught a taxi just outside.

  “Jardines de la Ciudadela,” Chow quickly told the driver as I looked out the back window to see if we had been tagged.

  “Sí señor,” the driver confirmed.

  I whispered to Chow, “One tail possible. He turned in behind us as soon as we got in.”

  He looked back, watching with me. Two turns later, we still had the tail.

  “Let’s go through the Gothic Quarter and see if we can lose them,” Chow said quietly in my ear.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “A través d' Barri Gotic,” Chow called out to the driver.

  “Sí señor,” the driver said with an edge.

  Soon we had turned, heading into the medieval city.

  Chow leaned into me closely. “I did not only learn of Shubham in there.”

  I pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes, searching for meaning.

>   He pulled me close again. “Not only was the Indian government recording iris scans, fingerprints, and facial records for all residents, but they have a DNA database too. When they were scanning a billion people, they secretively collected DNA samples from every person by swabbing eyes before their retinal scans and then saving the swabs in DNA collection containers.”

  “Oh no,” I whispered, considering the implications.

  “They now have the largest DNA database in the world.”

  Chow’s words sent chills through me.

  “Why? What would they need it for? And why do it in secret?” I said with alarm.

  “I think they did it because they could. I think there is more going on in India than we realize. Maybe that is the uncomfortable feeling that I have not shaken since you wrote the word genocide on the paper in India.”

  I just stared at him, horror-stricken.

  Chapter 40

  BARCELONA, SPAIN

  The Year 2015

  We were in the middle of the Gothic Quarter, near where we bicycled that morning. The sun had just set, and the two of us sat close in the back of the taxi. Chow’s arm hung loosely above my shoulders. My left shoulder was touching the door, the chill of the glass welcome against my slight sunburn.

  Suddenly the front of the car exploded in our faces. Chow pulled me to him immediately, while he pushed my head down below the seat back in one fluid movement.

  The taxi was spinning, and the force of it pushed us toward my door. My ears were ringing. When we slowed, I looked up, and the driver that had been there was now just mangled fragments—a cloud of blood and matter.

  “Get out!” Chow yelled, his face contorted and bloody as he reached over me to get the door open. In slow motion, all I saw was Chow’s mouth move like a silent movie actor.

  The door was stuck. As the flames lapped at us and the smoke intensified, he brought his leg up, ramming his foot repeatedly at the door to loosen it. Finally, the door flew open.

  Watching him, he silently screamed, “Go! Go! Go!” as he motioned with his hands.

  I got the message.

  Chow grabbed my hand, and before I knew it, we were running down a narrow alley in the dark. We could barely see anything ahead. As I ran, my hearing began to return, and my senses were in high gear. Adrenaline was fueling me now.

  Quickly looking behind us, I couldn’t see anyone following. Chow did the same, because before I knew it, he was shoving a plastic bag into my hands. “Take this,” he yelled as we ran. “When we stop, call for extraction.”

  I pulled the safe phone out of the bag while running—hoping I wouldn’t step in a pothole—and inserted the battery. Thank goodness I’d done it a hundred times before, and I did it again by touch.

  “An alcove!” Chow exclaimed, pointing. “Call from there,” he said as he looked back. There were now three suits pursuing us.

  We drew into the alcove. As I looked inside, I saw the illuminated Virgin Mary with her hands extended to us. A wave of reverence coursed through my body with each rapid breath as a knowing came to me that in this place, something would shift for the sake of The Prophecies.

  I faced Mary as I dialed, unable to look away. “B40 for extraction, code red,” I said at the beep. “No time for callback. We’re in the Barri Gotic, in an alley where the Virgin Mary is in a wall case in an alcove,” I sputtered into the phone.

  A sound jarred me, and as I turned, I saw Chow begin to fight the first agent. “Two with injuries. Hurry!” I yelled and then threw the phone to the ground, eager to help my friend.

  Chow heard me and shouted, “Stay back!” as he dispatched the first suit with a Soo Bahk Do wheel kick to the face.

  As the first suit face-planted, Chow glanced back at me just as the second suit appeared to his front. I was overtaken by a cold shiver as I helplessly watched Chow take a kick to the face and then chest by the second agent, knocking him out. He landed face-up on the ground, unconscious. As he lay a few feet away, I could see the blood streaming from his mouth. Then I saw that his assailant was Shubham.

  The traitor rushed at me, shoving me in the chest with such force that the back of my head slammed against the glass case holding the Mother Mary statue. I heard the glass crack. After a second of stunned shock, my rage erupted.

  I surprised Shubham with a punch to his groin. He doubled over, dropping his SIG Sauer, a semi-automatic pistol. I recovered it immediately, just in time to squeeze off a head shot at the third agent, who had suddenly appeared only five feet away.

  With the third agent down, I returned my attention to Shubham. He had revived from my punch, enough to send his fist into my kidneys. I doubled over in shock. Then he kneed me in the face with such force that my nose exploded. My eyes immediately blurred, and stunned, I flew back, hitting the pavement in the little alcove. The intensity of the pain was indescribable. I realized that I could not see for the blood that veiled my eyes. My other senses erupted, and I quickly realized that I had a death grip on the SIG. Lying back with my arms in front of me, I pointed blindly towards the sound of Shubham and fired. I kept firing in that direction until the pistol was empty. Then I heard his body hit the ground.

  Unable to see, I listened for movement from anyone.

  Silence.

  Letting the SIG fall from my hand, I touched my face.

  Wet slime. My own blood. It was excruciatingly painful.

  “Chow…Chow,” I called out through swollen lips, chilled with panic.

  Silence.

  I crawled on my hands and knees, blind, to find my friend. After several feet, I felt a man, but after touching his tie, I knew this was an agent. I crawled in another direction.

  “Chow…” I cried, barely able to speak as my face rapidly swelled.

  The adrenaline was leaving my body, and agony was replacing it. Disoriented, I scraped my way in the other direction and felt an arm. Following it, my hands touched a large-faced dive watch, and I knew that I had found Chow.

  Suddenly, a vicious bolt of torment shot through my middle, and the core of my balance started to shift. I knew I was near passing out. My hands felt near his watch to feel for a pulse. I was desperate to know that my dear friend would live.

  Silence.

  My consciousness was leaving, but I held on to his wrist, begging for my protector’s pulse.

  The rhythm of his life was vacant.

  Anguish erupted from my mouth as everything started to fade away. I lay down next to my friend, holding on to his warmth still present.

  It was then that I heard a car screech to a stop and footsteps rapidly approaching. I didn’t know if it was friend or foe.

  Just as the world slipped away, I heard the words, “Ann, Ann!”

  WISDOM KEEPERS – BOOK THREE

  Chapter 1

  BARCELONA, SPAIN

  The Year 2015

  I called out, “Chow,” as loud as I could, but I only heard it as a murmur as my rescuers lifted me to safety.

  “They’re working on him, Ann. We need to get you to a safe place,” my Spanish aide answered. Her voice was disquieting. I couldn't see her. I couldn't sense anything other than the next wave of pain coming up to wash over me.

  Finally, I gave myself up to the extreme pain that drew me into oblivion.

  * * *

  Each time I would briefly surface into consciousness, I felt myself moving, as if I were in transit. Sounds echoed in and out of audibility, as if I were in a tunnel. It seemed to be going on for a long time, with my body shifting and moving without myself willing it. My last thought before letting the dull hum soothe me back into forgetfulness was whether I would survive.

  * * *

  “Ann,” the voice said soothingly, vying for my attention.

  “Hey…it’s you,” I said calmly, as I slowly turned to see my husband.

  Armond seemed to be far away from me, but yet very close. It was an unusual sensation. “It’s so good to see your face,” I said, beaming, my heart exploding wit
h love.

  “I’ve been watching over you, as I promised,” he said, returning my smile.

  He seemed to be lit from within. I noticed that there was a shiny, reflective link between us, like a golden cord, as thin as a piece of hair. It ran from my heart to his.

  Soulmates, I thought.

  He smiled as though he had understood my thought, and I saw his gray eyes twinkle. Something about it made me giggle, and this made him flash the gorgeous smile that I knew and loved.

  “You barely got out of that,” he said, an observation steeped in concern.

  “I know. When Shubham kneed me, I think I heard my nose crack…” Hold on, I thought, why don’t I feel any pain? I felt compelled to turn around to look behind me and began to turn my head.

  “Ann,” Armond called, as the thought took hold in my mind.

  Abandoning my desire to look back, I gazed into his eyes as though he were right in front of me.

  “I must tell you a few things before you look back,” he said, his voice taking on a kind of underwater amplification. The sound mesmerized me and soothed me.

  “The things that are to come…” he began. “Some will be very difficult to bear.”

  It was easy to understand his meaning, but it didn’t seem to matter much, for I felt such joy being in his presence again. He seemed to know this, because he forged on.

  “When you go back, remember that the pain will be limited. There is a beginning and an end. There is a purpose for all of this. You will be faced with some hard decisions. The shaman in Brazil was right—you will always be protected. You must also remember this, my darling. The Prophecies will soon be fulfilled, and it won’t be long before we are together again.”

  His voice flowed through me as an invisible force, and a wave of destiny captured my spirit.

  “Okay, darling,” I said to him happily. “I’ll remember.”