by J. R. Rain
I next asked Parker if she wouldn’t mind getting a map of Mount Shasta from the car, a map I had printed out at home prior to leaving. She shrugged and I gave her the keys, and as soon as she left, I went to work. I slipped out of the booth and to the nearby bathroom, bringing my drink with me. Once in the bathroom, I dumped the contents and refilled it with a packet of blood I had stashed inside my jacket.
By the time Parker came back with the map and my keys, I was sitting again at my table, happily drinking from my freshly-topped-off glass of hemoglobin.
“Breakfast of champions,” Parker said, noting how I downed the drink.
“Better than bacon.”
“Nothing’s better than bacon. Except a kiss in the rain.”
“You’re too young to be romantic,” I said.
“And you act like you’re a million years old.”
“No. Just a few hundred.”
I grinned and she glared at me a moment, and then decided it was a joke.
“Now,” I said, spreading the map in front of us on the table. “Show me where Cloudland is.”
Chapter Twelve
Combining the map with the information I’d received when registering for Cloudland, I figured out it was a little south of town, in the hilly area called McCloud. And there were clouds around the mountain. And it was even a cloudy night.
So The Answer wasn’t very original. I guess he put all his creative energy into concocting ways to kill people.
That draining of Cindy’s blood still bothered me, and caused me to be even more uneasy about this whole set-up. The fact that I’d just polished off a glass of the stuff reminded me how weird it was. Sure, it was “natural” to me after all this time, but I still understood that I was a freak of nature.
For the first time, I wondered if maybe I was getting into a situation that was a lot more weird than it appeared. Which was saying something.
“So we just drive up to the gates?” she asked. “I flash my cleavage and get us in that way?”
“One, you don’t have much cleavage, and two, I am an officially registered guest of Cloudland. So I go in alone.”
Her eyes widened. “You dragged me all the way down here to sit on the sidelines? It’s my dad, remember? I owe it to Cindy to get to the bottom of this, plus I need to save my sister.”
I held up the palm of one hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get off the martyr train.”
Her brown eyes were flashing fire now. “I need revenge.”
“That’s not a very healthy attitude, and if you loose your cool, you will make mistakes.”
“Jesus, Spider, I don’t understand you. Nothing works on you. I flirt, I show some skin, I try to rile you up, I’ve done everything but hit on that hunky guy at the end of the bar.”
I didn’t even bother to look, and that made her madder than ever. “What is it with you?”
I shrugged. “You asked for my help.”
“But what do you get out of it?”
I tapped my empty glass with one gray fingernail. “Cheap thrills and a bar tab.”
The waitress came over and asked if I wanted another. I thought about ordering just to give the appearance of being one of the crowd, but the bar was already filling up and getting noisy. Apparently the New Agers weren’t so different after all.
After I sent her away with a big tip, I leaned toward Parker. “So, why do you think your sister’s here?”
“I called her four times while you were asleep. No answer. She always returns my calls.”
“Do you have a photo of her?”
Parker shook her head. “No way. I show you, you cut me out of the action.”
“Actually, I want you to come, but you have to do it my way. Do you trust me?”
She pouted a moment, and then nodded. “I guess I have to.”
She fished in her purse and brought out a small school picture and laid it on the table. I studied it. “Looks like you from two years ago?”
“Exactly. Not hard to find her, huh?”
“So we find her. Have you ever ridden in the trunk of a Mustang?”
* * *
My hunch was right that Cloudland would have a pretty sophisticated check-in system. The gatehouse featured two guards, and the one who came to my car window wasn’t carrying a gun, but I figured they had some heavy artillery inside. I showed him my “Summer Rain” identification, as well as my receipt.
“Summer,” he said. “That’s a weird name for a boy.”
“I’m not a boy, I’m a man,” I said.
His bulldog face went a little hard and mean so I let him win by saying, “My parents were raised in Big Sur. You know, hippies.”
“I hate hippies. We get a lot of them around the mountain.”
“You’re lucky you have a nice, high fence topped with barbed wire all around. Nobody gets in or out without your permission, right?”
His sunglasses were as blank as his face as he shined the flashlight into the car’s interior. These guys were even more paranoid than I thought.
“Open the trunk,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s in the rules where you registered. Says ‘All guests are subject to search at any time.’ Can’t have no drugs or alcohol on the premises. No laptops, magazines, cell phones, pagers, Kindles, iPods, none of that junk.”
I guess I should have read the rules, but you know how those things are. Pages and pages of legalese. Who has time for that?
“I’m pretty sure that’s a violation of my Fourth Amendment rights,” I said.
“We don’t got no amendments at Cloudland,” he said. “And my job is to search every vehicle that enters the grounds, or it doesn’t enter the grounds. And I like my job, you know what I mean?”
“I imagine there’s not much other work around here except selling crystals to hippies,” I said, stalling for time.
“Open it.”
I shrugged and hit the release. As the guard with the bulldog face went to the rear, the other guard stepped to the doorway of the gatehouse. He was definitely packing.
Bulldog rummaged around a little, but the only thing I had back there was a spare tire and a tool kit. We’d left the luggage in the hotel, along with our tech toys. Since all guests of Cloudland were required to exchange their clothes for the obligatory tunics and baggy knickers, as well as ceremonial robes, there was no sense bringing anything but a toothbrush, and I was surprised they even allowed that.
“Looks clean,” he said.
I smiled, but not too much. I didn’t want my pointy teeth to show. “Where do I park?”
“Hold on a second,” said the second guard. He was chubby and had probably been a real cop in a former life, because he waddled toward me with an air of practiced authority. If the other guard was Bulldog, this one was Pit Bull Mix.
“We don’t get many boys here,” he said.
“So I’ve heard,” I said. Thanks to my “bloody Mary,” I was pretty sated at the moment, but his big fat neck looked inviting, and I could see his purple carotid artery pulsing out a Morse code of juiciness.
“You’re not one of them funny boys, are you?”
“I like to tell a joke now and then,” I said.
“You know what I mean. A guy named ‘Summer,’ that sounds sissy to me. Are you a sissy boy? There ain’t a whole lot of sissy boys here for you to play dolls with.”
Jesus. And I thought the jackasses in night school were bad enough. Engaging in a morality battle with a guy whose IQ was the same as his waist measurement wasn’t how I wanted to spend my time.
I tried to let my face go a little vacant and spacey-eyed as I slipped into a monotone. “I’m here to devote my full attention to the teachings of Erasmus Cole. I’m just another lost soul seeking The Answer.”
He looked like he wanted to torment me a little more but some headlights were approaching from behind. He waved me through. “Park down by the main building and turn in your clothes and keys. They’ll assign you to a bungalo
w.”
The parking lot didn’t have any security lights, and the entire place seemed to be dark. I knew the Cloudland sales pitch was based on removing all the distracting luxuries of modern life, but I didn’t think they’d send us back to the Stone Age.
Not that I was complaining, because the concealment allowed me to open the trunk and remove the false panel along the back. Parker rolled out from a fetal position, shaking her hands as if they’d fallen asleep.
“Took you long enough,” she said.
“Just making conversation,” I said. “It’s important not to draw undue attention.”
“One thing for sure about you, Spider, people can’t ignore you.”
If I’d been a little closer to my old human self, I might have taken that as a compliment. But now I was just a guy with a job to do. I could feel good about myself later, when the bodies stopped piling up.
“I’m going to check in. You wait over there in the trees until I give you the all-clear.”
“By the way, why do you have a false panel?”
I couldn’t tell her that I stored my blood supply there when I picked up a shipment, so I told her the only other story that would make sense. “I’m a drug smuggler when I’m not in night school.”
“You’re funny, Spider.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Chapter Thirteen
I guess once they let you drive through, their security gets less and less invasive. After checking in, with all the impersonally efficient process of a hotel or hospital or funeral parlor, I made my way to the assigned bungalow and decided to have Parker wait again in the car. I scanned the hallways and building and saw no trace of a security camera system. I guess they didn’t have security cameras on the inside because they didn’t want possible witnesses to Erasmus Cole’s games.
When the coast was clear, I led her up to our room. It was nice and clean, but relatively unadorned, with a potted plant and a desk but no television or radio. A couple of robes and towels were folded up on the bed.
“One bed?” Parker asked.
“What did you expect? I enrolled by myself. It might have thrown up a red flag if I asked for a second bed, and I hadn’t planned on company, anyway. I told you, I like to work alone.”
“Well, I’m not sleeping next to you for an entire week,” she protested.
“Then you better like hard carpet floors because there’s no way I’m giving up this bed.” I was actually careful about saying the word “sleeping.”
“You just better not turn out to be a little pervert.”
I looked at Parker and nearly threw a fit. “Are you kidding me?”
“Look, I think I can trust you, but...”
Then it dawned on me what was happening. She had alternative reasons for not sharing a bed with me. For some reason, she didn’t want us to be alone together at night. “Where do you propose I sleep?”
“I can make the floor in the bathroom comfortable.”
I looked at Parker and nearly laughed out loud. “If you want to make the bathroom floor comfortable enough for someone to sleep on, go right ahead. Knock yourself out. There’s no way on God’s green earth that I’m going to drop the kind of money I did to get into this place and not have a comfortable bed.”
“Fine, I’ll sleep in the tub.”
“What happens when I have to pee?”
“Don’t drink liquids after six p.m. and go to the bathroom before you go to bed.”
Wow, she really was up to something. I looked inside the bathroom, and sure enough, it had a large window. Parker had clearly noticed at some point in the conversation and she took the only choice available once she realized I wasn’t budging. Or maybe that had been her choice from the start.
“Shh,” I said to Parker.
She raised her eyebrows, but obeyed me for a change. Of course, my hearing was much more acute than hers. She wouldn’t have heard the footsteps.
I looked over at the door and a paper slid under it. I walked over and looked at the piece of paper. It was the official itinerary, complete with a groovy Mount Shasta-at-sunrise logo.
At the top, it read: Opening Sanctification- Mellow Meadows, 8:00 p.m.
Shit, that’s in 15 minutes!
“Looks like I won’t be able to sit around and chat, Parker. I have a cult meeting to get to.”
Parker nodded at me. “I’m sure those are words you never thought you’d say.”
“Never say never. Well, maybe sometimes. So, what are you going to be doing while I’m in session?” I asked.
She held up some of the pamphlets lying on the desk. “I’ll read up on The Answer to all of life’s little problems. Maybe I’ll learn a little more.”
“Absolutely, under no circumstances, leave the room!” I ordered as sternly as I could.
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t answer the door for anyone,” I pressed.
“This ain’t my first rodeo.”
She’d said she’d been to Cloudland a couple of times, and maybe she knew her way around. Especially if this was her dad’s place. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten full access and a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the family empire. After all, most dads are pretty proud of both their achievements and their daughters. Of course, her dad might also have sacrificial intentions on Parker as well.
I quickly changed into my robe in the bathroom, and it had a little hood so I flipped it up and pulled it low over my eyes. When I stepped out into the main room, I was relieved to find Parker had stayed put.
“Nice look,” she said.
“No time to shave my legs,” I said. “Where’s Mellow Meadows?”
“Down the sidewalk and between the three big buildings. You can’t miss it. It’s the big grassy area with all the people in robes.”
“Simple enough.”
Parker was right. Once I made it out the rear entrance, the surrounding buildings all opened onto the grassy commons. A crowd milled about in twos and threes, all wearing the same hooded robes. Judging by the lithe and shapely legs, most of them seemed to be young women. Some weird New Age music was playing, flutes and triangles and the occasional random harp. I looked around the compound and saw probably sixty people.
At the upper end of the commons was a slight rise of stacked stone, like an outdoor stage. A few tall trees hovered over, but the dominant feature was a hulking stone statue that was chiseled from volcanic stone. It looked simultaneously primitive and hideous, with a blunt and vaguely feminine face, rounded stone boobs, and a grass skirt.
If that’s the “feminine divine” old Erasmus keeps raving about, give me an eighteen-year-old any day.
But the statue appeared to be pretty important, because laid out before it was a huge slab of stone that looked like a table...or altar. A rock wall marked the back of the stage, with a couple of openings made with stacked pillars that had a Stonehenge vibe.
Mount Shasta was prominent in the background, catching the thick slice of moon and sparkling with a soft glow. I had to hand it to Erasmus, if he was trying to wow some kids into drinking his special brand of Kool-Aid, he couldn’t have picked better scenery. The night was clear and cool, and the backdrop was mystical.
The crowd was sedate, whether from special substances or just mellowing out because of the meadow, but there was a faint buzz of expectation. I walked around with my hood pulled low, eavesdropping for clues, but most of the conversation was of bands, movies, boyfriends, and the same kind of stuff you’d overhear at a university student union.
After about ten minutes, Erasmus emerged from somewhere off to the left, probably from a luxury bungalow. He wore the same robe we did, except his was long and flowing, sweeping the ground behind him. He looked a little different than when I’d encountered him in his Volvo a week before. He looked calm and paternal, as if he’d been rehearsing.
Or maybe he really believed in his own brand of Nirvana.
I clung to the back edge of the crowd, keeping a broad view
of the events. Everyone fell silent as Erasmus sat cross-legged on a boulder. He spread his arms, palms open. “Hello, my children,” he said, his voice carrying all across the commons.
What kind of guru-godly-goop was this? Was he being serious? I swear this was like a bad episode of Punk’d.
“During this week you will constantly be facing your demons. Through a series of exercises we are going to peel back your inner core and find out why you all have chosen the paths you follow. I know some of you are runaways. I know some of you are prostitutes. I know some of you are recovering drug addicts. I know some of you have done heinous things that you can’t even bear the thought of re-remembering. This week is about forgiveness. This week is about finding yourself and making sure you’re whole.”
Wait a second! Who does he market this to? Runaways? Prostitutes? The worst of the worst, as long as they had barrels of cash to offer?
The security guy out front had really thought I was gay, perhaps even a gay prostitute. This place was delving in the bottom of our society. But not the very, very bottom. The Answer made sure that only the attractive could be salvaged and redeemed.
I looked around the crowd, and many had their hoods down, revealing comely, rapt faces and shining eyes. Everyone was gorgeous. Why had they let me in, aside from the fact that I’d laid out a stack of money? There would be only one reason to let me in. They’d assumed I was a minor and there was a huge perv here who liked teenage boys.
Maybe even Erasmus Cole himself.
Well, if he wanted a kiss, he might get a little more than he bargained for.
Chapter Fourteen
I had a bad feeling, and when I have a bad feeling, that’s saying something.
No surprise there. It didn’t take a psychic to get a bad feeling about this place. Sure, it was cheery enough. The commons were brightly lit, with old-fashioned carriage lamps set on posts to augment the moonlight. There was a snack table off to the side, which hadn’t appealed to me because my hunger was of a different kind. There was even a big crystal bowl of punch. Blood red.
