sedona files - books one to three

by Christine Pope

  “I am not psychic,” I said flatly. I knew I wasn’t. I’d never shown any signs of it, and believe me, growing up in Sedona, you tend to be surrounded by psychic people and people who would be ecstatic if you turned out to be psychic, too. That wasn’t me at all. Otherwise, I would’ve started playing the lottery a long time ago.

  Michael’s dark eyes were amused. “Did I say you were?”

  “No, but Persephone — ”

  “Persephone is open to many forms of communication. She might surprise you.”

  “Maybe,” I said, unconvinced. Persephone was Kara’s friend much more than she was mine. Those two had hit it off like a house on fire. I mean, I liked Persephone, but it would just feel strange to go spilling secrets to her when I couldn’t be sure that Kara wouldn’t end up finding out about it sooner or later. Whereas I trusted Michael implicitly. Of course, I’d known him since I was a kid. He’d been a good friend of Grandpa’s, had helped Kara and me get through the rough transition after he passed and we knew we were really alone in the world.

  But thinking about my grandfather just made me feel sad. I knew I didn’t have time for that now, so I said, “Okay, I’ll think about it. But what do you think it was?”

  He didn’t blink. “You already know the answer to that, don’t you?”

  Typical Michael, always answering my questions with questions of his own. He was one of the few people I never bothered to argue with, mostly because it would be wasted effort. He never tried to persuade you that you were wrong. He mostly didn’t do anything except watch you with those dark eyes of his, a tactic that worked about ninety percent of the time. I sighed and set my glass down on the table, using one of the kitschy sandstone coasters painted with a cactus that Michael had set out.

  “Okay…it was them. But why now?”

  For the first time I saw the hint of a frown touch the lines around his eyes. “Things are moving. Time is getting short.”

  I bit back a remark about him saving it for a fortune cookie. Besides, Martin Jones’ comments about the solstice weighed heavily on my mind. Ten days…

  “Well, if they were aiming for 2012, they kind of missed the cutoff a while back.”

  Michael actually smiled at that. “It’s not the year, but the time of year. The winter solstice has always contained a power the summer does not. For many of us, it is a time of introspection, of inner healing. But there’s a darkness to that power as well, one that our visitors may be trying to tap into for their own purposes.”

  Great. Well, on the first go-round Persephone had managed to blast the minds of every alien or alien-infected human in the Secret Canyon base, and the second time we’d had a little help from an alien hybrid soldier who had luckily decided to throw in his lot with the humans — and paid the ultimate price for it. Right now, though, I didn’t see a lot of options. Maybe the next time I saw Agent Jones I’d have to ask him when he planned to send in the cavalry.

  “Do you think they’re looking for Grace?” I asked suddenly.

  The smile disappeared. “They would be looking for her…if they knew she existed.”

  “Do you know for a fact that they don’t?”

  Michael’s eyes took on a blurry expression, as if he were looking past me, past the cluttered walls of his house, out to the shadowed gullies and caves of Secret Canyon. “Facts are slippery things. But I felt it last night, felt the darkness moving over the city. The lights went out here, but I’m guessing not many people paid it much mind. The power lines in this part of town aren’t that reliable, especially in the winter. Whatever they were doing, it didn’t feel focused to me. And if they knew about Grace, I have to believe they would be very focused.”

  I didn’t quite breathe a sigh of relief, but I did feel a little of the tension go out of my shoulders. “Well, that’s something, I guess. I didn’t want to go to Kara with this — she’s got enough on her plate right now.”

  Which was nothing more than the truth. Yes, Grace was an awfully good baby, but even angelic babies cried in the middle of the night and needed their diapers changed and had to be fed regularly.

  “Sometimes trying to shield people from things just makes it that much worse when they do find out.”

  Oh, Michael and his pronouncements. I sort of wished I could just wave off what he’d said, but the truth was that he tended to be right more often than not.

  As if in response to my thoughts, my cell phone rang from the depths of my backpack. Usually I’d ignore it, but I hadn’t heard a peep out of Jeff all day and was sort of expecting him to call at some point.

  I mumbled, “Sorry, Michael,” and bent down to retrieve the phone. When I pulled it out of the backpack, though, the number on the display wasn’t Jeff’s, but Kara’s.

  Uh-oh.

  It could be something totally innocuous, like her asking me to stop at Walgreens on the way home and pick up some diapers. But she had Lance for errands like that — grumble though he might about it — so I kind of doubted that was why she was calling.

  For a second I considered letting the call roll over into voicemail, but I knew that ploy would only work for so long. Cell reception could be kind of spotty around Sedona, especially if the weather was bad. Kara, though, would see right through that excuse, since I’d already used it more times than was probably realistic.

  So I pushed the “accept” button and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hi, Kara.”

  “‘Hi’ yourself. So when exactly were you going to tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” Actually, I could figure out from her tone exactly what she was talking about, but I figured I might as well hedge a little, just in case.

  “About what happened last night. Jeff said something to Lance…”

  Figures.

  “…And Lance told me, but you didn’t say one word. What were you thinking?”

  I was thinking that you were going to get your panties in a bunch…and here you are, proving me right. But of course I knew better than to say that out loud. “Sorry, Kara, but I didn’t know for sure that it was actually anything.”

  “Well, Jeff seems to be of a different opinion.”

  Jeff, who’d made himself scarce all day. I’d wondered what the heck he’d been up to. I just figured he’d gotten on his computer once he crawled out of bed and found it way more interesting to hash out the latest news in a conspiracy theory chatroom or something rather than hang around at the UFO Depot with me. But obviously he’d gone blabbing to Lance.

  I shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see me. “That’s his opinion. Nothing happened, though. Things just felt sort of strange. But everything seems to be fine now.” Well, for the next ten days, anyway…

  “I think you should come over.”

  Getting grilled by my big sister was not high on my list of fun things to do. At the moment, though, neither was going back to my empty apartment and wondering whether they were going to come knocking on my sliding glass door next.

  “What about Michael?” I asked, even as he gave me an et tu, Brute? look.

  “If he’s available.”

  “Okay. See you in a few.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and ended the call before she could add anything else. “Looks like I’m getting called on the carpet, Michael. But I’m sure Kara and Lance will be very interested in your solstice theories.”

  Being Michael, he just shook his head a little. Then he smiled, one of those smiles that seemed to be enigmatic and rueful at the same time. “Better finish your wine, Kirsten. You may need it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  When we got to Kara’s house — I’d offered Michael a lift, since his ancient El Camino didn’t look as if the tires had enough tread to back out of the driveway, let alone go across town with another snowstorm threatening — I saw that both Jeff’s van and the Olivers’ silver pickup truck were sitting in Kara’s driveway. It looked as if she’d called in all the troops, although I thought it was a little early for a full-on council of war.

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p; I only allowed myself a slight head shake as I parked the UFO Night Tours van on the street, since there wasn’t any more room in the driveway. Michael got out of the passenger side without a comment, although of course he had to have seen the other vehicles as well, then followed me up the front walk. It still felt sort of strange to go up to the front door knowing that I didn’t live here anymore, that my old bedroom was now irrevocably altered, having finally been made over into a nursery.

  But I still had a key, so I unlocked the door and let myself and Michael in. At once I heard the sound of voices, and smelled the smoke from a wood-burning fire. That was one thing I really missed — of course my apartment didn’t have a fireplace.

  I saw the gang gathered in the living room: Paul and Persephone on the couch, Jeff in one of the side chairs, Kara standing up and holding Grace, who appeared to be asleep. The one person I didn’t spot right away was Lance, but then he emerged from the kitchen with a mug of something for Kara. I noticed then that both of the Olivers had glasses of wine in front of them, although Jeff was drinking a Coke. Of course Kara couldn’t have any wine, not while Grace was still on breast milk, so I guessed Lance had been getting Kara some herbal tea or maybe spiced cider.

  “Hey,” I called out as Michael and I entered the living room.

  Everyone offered up a greeting, although I noticed that Kara was giving me a fairly jaundiced look. Obviously she still hadn’t forgiven me for not telling her about the…whatever…last night right when she got home.

  “Pepperoni?” asked Lance.

  “Um…what?” I guessed I could be forgiven for not getting what he was saying, since it sort of came from out of left field.

  “We thought we’d order pizza,” Persephone explained as she leaned over the coffee table to retrieve her wine glass.

  That sounded like a great idea. Much as I wouldn’t have minded snagging another glass of wine before the inevitable third degree started, having some ballast to go along with the booze would probably help me last a little longer. “Pepperoni’s great,” I said. “I’ll eat pretty much anything except anchovies.”

  There was one side chair left, but I figured that should go to Kara, or maybe Michael if she didn’t feel like sitting down. I was used to being the one who ended up on the floor, so I lowered myself into a cross-legged position with my back to the fireplace. The heat from the crackling pine logs felt heavenly. I loved the house — it was the only real home I’d ever known — but it could be a little drafty.

  “No pineapple,” Jeff said darkly, brows lowering, as if he expected me to place an order for Canadian bacon and pineapple the second his back was turned.

  Well, “girl” pizza was sort of a secret favorite of mine, but I knew better than to request it in mixed company. So I just scowled back at him and shook my head, as if offended that he’d even suspect me of wanting to eat something like that.

  The next few minutes were taken up in placing the phone order and making sure that everybody more or less got what they wanted. But after Lance had taken the phone back to the kitchen and gotten a wine glass for me — Michael apparently had had enough for the evening, and asked only for water — an awkward silence fell.

  Everybody was watching me, as if they expected me to go first, but I really wasn’t in the mood for that. Jeff had started all this, so he could be the one to talk.

  Apparently he got the point, because after a few more silent seconds passed he cleared his throat and said, “Well, it seems clear to me that they — ” The “they” was accompanied by a shift of Jeff’s eyes more or less in the direction of Secret Canyon, “ — are up to something again. Kik — I mean, Kirsten — was acting like it was no big deal, but I could tell she was scared.”

  I didn’t bother to deny it, not with Michael sitting there and watching me. “It was sort of freaky,” I admitted, then added, “Michael felt it, too.”

  At once everyone’s attention shifted to Michael, but of course he looked imperturbable as always. “Yes. They’re active again, asserting themselves. This year the new moon comes with the solstice. I’m guessing they plan to take advantage of that.”

  “The solstice,” Lance repeated, looking dubious in a way that only Lance could.

  “Yes. I began to wonder about that after last night, but Kirsten confirmed it for me today after she told me Agent Jones paid her a visit and told her the same thing.”

  This time I was the focus of everyone’s stares.

  Kara’s blue eyes, a shade or two darker than mine, were positively blazing. “What, that MIB came to see you today, and you couldn’t be bothered to tell me about that, either?”

  For some reason I didn’t like her referring to him with that epithet. Oh, sure, we all tossed it around like it was no big deal, but I just kept seeing those blue-gray eyes watching me, remembering the flash of his white teeth against his olive skin. Martin Jones might be a Man in Black, but he was also seriously, seriously hot.

  “I wanted to talk to Michael about it first, okay?” I reached for my wine and took my first swallow, which only made Kara look angrier. Hard to say whether she was more irritated by my radio silence or the fact that she was cut off from having a glass of wine for at least another six months.

  “Well, we all know about it now,” Persephone said in soothing tones. “So I guess the question is, what are we going to do about it?”

  For a minute no one said anything. Sure, it might feel better for all of us to get together, to act as if we were being proactive, but I think the truth of it was that everybody probably felt a little rattled. It wasn’t as if we could just arm ourselves and march into Secret Canyon and declare open warfare on the aliens. Whatever they were planning, I guessed it didn’t bode well for us humans. Even so, we were sort of ill-equipped to take them on. They had Persephone’s number by now, and Grayson was, well, not with us anymore.

  I glanced around the group. Jeff was drumming his fingers on his half-empty Coke can, while both Paul and Persephone looked more than a little worried. Lance had a tense set to his jaw that told me he’d be happy to march out right now and hit the base in Secret Canyon with whatever explosives he was currently hiding at the U-Haul storage center at the west end of town. Kara was biting her lip, and kept rubbing Grace’s back with her free hand in an unconscious gesture of protection.

  And Michael, well, being Michael, he stood there and drank his water quietly as if nothing had ever bothered him and nothing ever would.

  “Well, I guess I can try calling Agent Jones,” I said. “He gave me his card.”

  At once Jeff shook his head. “No way. Bad enough that he’s showed up again. We don’t need to be dragging the government into this. I mean, we already know some factions were in bed with the aliens before. We can’t trust this guy.”

  If it had been anyone else, I might have suspected Jeff of being a little jealous. But since he didn’t bother himself with such lowly concerns, I knew this was just his usual paranoia talking.

  “He told Kara he was on our side,” I pointed out, and Jeff gave me a pained glance.

  “Well, of course he’d say that. Doesn’t mean anything.”

  Lance broke in. “I think I have to agree with Jeff on this. We can’t stop this Agent Jones from sniffing around, but that doesn’t mean we have to seek him out on purpose. We don’t know what he’s really here for.”

  Everyone seemed to be in agreement on this, judging by the nods and little murmurs of assent I heard from the group.

  Great. I thought contacting Martin Jones was probably a pretty good idea, and not just because I really, really wanted a good reason to call him. It seemed obvious to me that he knew more than he was letting on, so why not try to bring him on board so I could attempt to pick his brain?

  But I knew better than to say anything. All that would do was get me dog-piled. And if I just happened to call him later, maybe for a little advice, well, then, sue me.

  After all, better to ask for forgiveness than permission…

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nbsp; * * *

  The “party” broke up not quite two hours later, after everyone had chewed at the subject for a while but hadn’t come up with any real solutions. Vigilance seemed to be the watchword for the day. We all made a pact to report anything strange, even if it was just a case of the heebie-jeebies, and then went our separate ways.

  I drove Michael home. Both of us were quiet during the trip, although he did finally say, just as I brought the van to a stop in front of his driveway, “You’re going to contact this Agent Jones anyway.” It wasn’t a question.

  Not looking at him, I replied, “What makes you say that?”

  A flash of teeth in the darkness. “Because I know you.”

  He got out then, breath puffing in the freezing air as he made his way past the rear end of his El Camino and up the walk to his door. I waited there, made sure he got in okay, before I turned the van around and headed for home.

  You know, sometimes it’s rough being around people who’ve known you since you were three years old.

  * * *

  I didn’t have to work the next day, as Kara had gone back to a limited work schedule of two days a week — Tuesdays and Fridays. And though I knew my friend Lindsay was back home for the holidays, taking a break from her “five-year”plan at Arizona State University, somehow I had the feeling that dropping everything and going off to Prescott for a day of shopping and movie-watching or whatever wasn’t the best use of my time.

  What exactly I was supposed to do with it, I didn’t know. I did have that one web design project to work on, but Skye wasn’t expecting it until after the first of the year anyway. Besides, it was sort of hard to feel fired up about a long-term venture like that when you had the threat of alien armageddon hanging over your head.

  I kept pulling Martin Jones’ business card out of my wallet and staring at it, then putting it back. Really, nothing new had happened, so I didn’t have any actual reason to call him. Never mind that I wanted to see him again, wanted to ask him…what? How much he really did know? What, if anything, was the organization he worked for planning?