by Laurel Dewey
Jane turned to the back cover and felt her heart fall. The black and white photo of Werner Haas was the old man Gabe assassinated. “Why did he kill him?”
“It was just another job. But then everything changed when he realized he’d killed the man who was hired to design his death and, shall we say, rebirth.”
Jane flipped through the pages of the book. It was a scientific tome that was far too complex. “Who was this Haas?”
“He was a Belgium scientist living and working in Scotland. He’d long been ostracized from his post at the University due to his controversial ideas. They even wiped his name from all the scientific literature he took part in.”
“Why?”
“He wasn’t a traditional scientist. Instead of following the conventional heroes, he was drawn to the likes of Nikola Tesla. Haas studied energy, just like Tesla, but the type of energy Haas was interested in couldn’t be photographed in a thunderbolt of light. He was obsessed by the energy you cannot see but that exists nonetheless. And as he became increasingly demented in old age, his experiments caught the company’s attention. He was just the kind of twisted genius they needed for their research. But as brilliant as Haas was, he should have known his alliance would end badly. All loose ends have to be swept up, you know?”
Jane nodded. “All witnesses need to die.” She glanced at the book again. “This is way over my head, Saul. Can you at least give me a nutshell explanation of what this old guy was into?”
Saul leaned toward Jane. “He theorized that the energy from one person could be given to another. It wasn’t a gigantic, speculative leap. While academia doesn’t accept it, real life examples exist where transplant patients often feel strange or different after their surgery, feeling the cellular energy of their donor. Using that as his foundation, he accepted that there was a clear transference of awareness and perception from one body to another. Haas sought to develop a way that could capture that consciousness in its purest form and transfer it to another human being.”
“My God, he sounds like a geriatric Frankenstein.”
“Haas would have loved that association. I think he’d lost his soul at the end. I’m not sure you can do what he did if you have a shred of conscience left.”
“If Haas was so evil, why in the hell did Gabe use his name?”
“Maybe to remind him of the kind of evil he walked away from? Or perhaps to draw your attention to that name?”
Jane turned to the side, desperately trying to patch together a plan. “What do you know about the Congo?”
“I know it’s a place where hope doesn’t exist and where people are looked on like cattle. Bred and slaughtered at the whim of those in charge.”
“And when they die, nobody cares,” Jane surmised. “Nobody misses them because even their families are killed alongside them.”
“Commodity is the word you’re searching for. We’re all commodities to them. We’re only as useful as what we can offer them. As destructively brilliant as Haas was, he wasn’t above them. They used him and when they were done, they eliminated him.”
Jane considered it. “But Gabe wasn’t only a commodity to them. They obviously didn’t want to eliminate him completely. Through his heart, they could still benefit from him. Just exactly what are they expecting to get from that heart?”
“Everything. Look at your friend, Harlan. If he was a different person, if he was more aware, if he had an understanding of how to manipulate that heart inside him, he could potentially be a very powerful man.”
“Potentially. It’s all theory, Saul.”
“Not necessarily. You’ve been given enough proof that what I’m telling you is accurate. And the company never worried about having to support their theories. They don’t have any corporations to answer to or investors to impress. It’s a game for them but they take that game very seriously. They will continue to take as many lives as necessary to achieve whatever they want.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that Gabe had enough ammo to stop their train?”
“Not completely.” He considered his words carefully. “He wanted to shine the light on them because the more light you push into the darkness, the less power it will have. And through that, the dominos can begin to fall until there’s so much light on the truth that it can’t be ignored any longer. Gabriel’s intention was to push over the first domino.”
“And now that’s my job?”
“Consider yourself the domino pusher.”
Jane felt every wall in that underground cavern closing in on her. “What if I say no? What if I choose to disappear?”
Saul sat back and observed her. “You could do that. You could run and keep running. But it wouldn’t be freedom you’d be feeling.”
“I’m fucked either way?”
He smiled. “Something like that.” He reached into the side table’s top drawer and pulled out a deck of Tarot cards. “Do you know the allegory of The Fool that’s told through the Tarot?”
“No.”
Saul went through the deck, pulling out the twenty-two Major Arcana cards. He laid them out on the coffee table. “The first card is The Fool. The story that continues through the successive cards involves his spiritual journey. He meets his teachers,” Saul pointed to the The Magician and The High Priestess cards. “Later in his journey, he finds love,” he said as he pointed to The Lovers. “As he evolves on his journey, he discovers his power and his strength. But then he has his dark night of the soul.” Saul touched The Hanged Man card. “And from that, a purely spiritual death,” he pointed to The Death card. “He learns temperance before he encounters The Devil, the evil within all of us. From there, his world crumbles. And the towers of ego he’s built collapse in total destruction.” He held up The Tower card. “His life is obliterated. The slate is wiped clean. At that point, he could choose to die. But instead, The Fool selects the spiritual path. The Tower Card is the sixteenth card in the deck. The seventeenth card is The Star.”
Jane picked it up. The illustration showed a woman bent on one knee over a body of water, holding two vessels of water. One foot is firmly in the water and one is on the earth. Her right hand pours the water into the pond while her left hand pours water onto the ground. Seven white stars and one larger yellow star hover above her head. “What does this mean?”
“There are a lot of interpretations. But I see it as a portentous card. It speaks of renewed hope and purpose. Rebirth. Some believe it represents the beginning of higher consciousness or the pathway that leads to that place. It’s the first card toward the end of The Fool’s journey that moves him closer to the light.” He dealt The Moon and then The Sun cards. “And finally to the sun. After that, there is Judgement and, finally, The World.” He lay the cards out and sat back. “But the higher enlightenment begins with the seventeenth card.”
“So what does seventeen mean?”
“You seeing it a lot?”
“Lately, yeah.”
“I don’t know that it means anything by itself. It’s what it attaches to that seems to have the deeper context. King Tutankhamen was wrapped in seventeen sheets. The Parthenon is seventeen columns long. Beethoven wrote seventeen string quartets. In the Bible, the seventeenth book is the shortest. In the exact middle of the Bible, you’ll find the 117th Psalm, which is also the shortest. The Great Flood started on the seventeenth of the month and Noah’s Ark landed on Mount Ararat on the seventeenth. There are seventeen muscles in the tongue. Japanese Haiku contains seventeen syllables. The U.S. Navy had seventeen battleships in service when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. The White House is on the seventeenth street in Washington and there are seventeen methods of strangulation. Those are just a handful of examples I can offer you. It’s not a magical number but whatever it touches, in whatever shape or form, seems to carry with it a lingering echo that is not quickly forgotten.”
Jane stared at The Star card. “Enlightenment.” She looked at Saul. “It’s not for the
queasy or the narrow minded, is it?”
“Sure it is. It’s for everyone. And all you have to realize is that it is already present within you and just needs the proper spark to ignite your mind.” He leaned closer with an uncompromising expression. “Enlightenment is our birthright. And God help you if you let them take it from you.”
His words chilled Jane. “Can I take the binder with me?”
“No. You don’t need it. You already know that part of their plan. Your job is to complete the second part. And you only have days to do it.”
“How many days?”
“Two or three at the most.”
Jane turned away, defeat filling every pore.
“Yes,” Saul stressed. “You can do this. You can’t give up.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, protecting it in his. “They can’t win. Did you hear me? I was part of their sickness. I know what they dream about and, believe me, it’s a nightmare.”
“If it’s even possible, I could maybe stop one of the sick experiments. But from what I understand, Romulus has their hand in every facet of the world. Anything I help bring out will be a drop in the bucket. They’ll just shove it under the rug and keep moving forward with the thousand other plans they’ve got going.”
“You’re not supposed to stop everything. All you have to do is get the information to the right people so that the light can finally be shed on these pricks.”
She sighed. “I don’t know, Saul. I’m kinda tired of feeling used, you know?”
“The difference is you’re being used for a good purpose.”
“Uh-huh. Notice how the word ‘used’ is still in there?”
He peered into Jane’s eyes, hypnotically securing her gaze. “How do I compel you?”
“Tell me the truth.”
He smiled. “Interesting choice of words there. Truth? Whose version do you want?”
“How about the one that’s closest to being accurate.”
Still grasping her hand, he nodded. “I’m afraid they’ve made the answer to that question more difficult. You see, we’re surrounded by lies. You truly have no idea how deeply those lies are rooted in our history, religions and spiritual lives. Any supposed truth, for what it’s worth, is getting harder to find. Pretty soon, you won’t recognize the truth when it walks up and slaps you on the head. That’s what they’re counting on.” He leaned a few inches closer. “How can I get this across to you?” His tone became alarming. “Their lies have become deeply embedded in the fabric of this world. And those who speak the truth are disavowed or destroyed. That’s how they remain in control. Believe me, I spent enough time on their side of the fence to understand how they’ve achieved it.”
“Well, go on then. Tell me how they did it.”
“They lead the ignorant from one disillusionment to another. They tease you with the next best thing that has a shelf life of six months. They quell your hysteria with drugs while your petitions remains unheard because of their blatant disinterest. They distract you with daily doses of ‘bread and circus’ so that you’re looking the other way when they make their bold moves. They make you doubt your own feelings and distrust your intuition when it’s screaming at you to get the hell out! Because you know what? Somewhere down deep inside all of us…somewhere that hasn’t been napalmed by their propaganda, there’s still an ancient awareness that knows. Even though everything around you appears ordinary and business as usual, that primeval cell inside you has the ability to see through their veils of deception. And when the few wake up and see the lies—when that light turns on—they want to shout from the rooftops! ‘Look! Look over there! See that? Did you see it?’ But they turn around and nobody’s listening to them. They stare into the eyes of their friends and family and all they see are blank orbs and lost souls shaded by the façade of competence. So, they think, ‘No, no, no. Can’t speak up. Better to be safe and stay silent.’ And so they do just that. They stay silent because they’re terrified of being separated from friends, locked up or shunned by their family. That’s a potent fear right there. They stay silent because they believe no one else out there has ever seen what they have seen or felt what they have felt in the deepest core of their soul.” He took a breath. “And that is how the liars remain in control. Through one’s silence and fear of alienation, the truth is buried deeper under the soil of fabrication and deceit. Chaos rules because eventually, it’s easier to cling to whatever debris is left than to walk into the storm, taste the rain and greet the thunder with your fists balled and your courage lit like a fire that will never be put out.” He let go of her hand. “And that, my dear, is why you must not give up.”
Jane felt her world collapse around her as Saul walked with her to the Lincoln and then rose back up on terra firma. They drove in silence until he was a city block away from the CSA. Putting the car in park, he motioned for her to open her door. “No need to attract attention.”
Jane got out and looked around. “You think they’re watching us?”
Saul glanced around the area, sniffing out the unseen with his eyes. “Not right now. But they’re close.”
She leaned into the car. “Aren’t you going to give some kind of parting warning like everybody else has?”
He looked her straight in the eye. “No warnings. When the time comes, you’ll know exactly what to do.”
He turned the Lincoln around and disappeared down the dirt road. Something about his last words left a sterile sting against her heart.
CHAPTER 24
By the time Jane hiked back to the CSA, the classes were just breaking up and guests were taking advantage of the short recess. She didn’t have a hard time locating Harlan; she could hear him delighting the group with another story.
“I got a ticket in the mail once from one of them cameras that snapped me goin’ over the speed limit. You know what I did? I mailed them a photo of my hundred-dollar check!”
Jane waved toward Harlan.
“Hey there, honey!” he said, hugging her around the shoulders. “I just learned four more ways to compost.”
Jane pulled him aside as casually as she could muster. “Something’s come up. We gotta get outta here this afternoon.”
Harlan’s mood sobered up fast. “Why wait?” he whispered. “Let’s do it now.”
“No. I have to do the damn cards in order—”
“Huh?”
“The kid. He’s going to take me to the location of the next card. I’ll find whatever I need there and then we can take off.” She spied Sage standing to the side. “Gotta go.” Jane turned around and meandered around the visitors toward Sage.
“Where you been?” Sage asked urgently, keeping his focus in front of him. “I spent the morning keeping my ear to the ground to make sure Jude stayed away.”
“Well, if you pressed your ear a little harder, you might have heard me.”
“Huh?”
“Do I hear the vroom-vroom of a four-wheeler in my near future?”
They agreed that Jane would nonchalantly walk down the driveway and up the road where Sage would meet her on the four-wheeler. Less than half an hour later, he showed up and Jane hopped on the back of the ATV. He navigated toward Highway 17 then turned onto the byway that paralleled the highway. Less than one mile later, he turned left and kicked the puppy into the next gear. For three miles, they traveled up a bumpy, hard-packed mountain road with no guardrails or regular maintenance. Sage expertly avoided the many potholes as they ascended a steep hill that crested into a shallow valley where the road dead-ended.
They got off the vehicle and Sage led Jane two hundred feet across the grass and down a short hill where a babbling spring brook wound around a clump of aspens. It must have been an idyllic escape for Gabe, Jane mused, with a summertime panorama of wildflowers blanketing the surrounding meadows.
“That’s where the cabin was,” Sage said, pointing to an empty spot across the creek.
; “What happened to it?”
“It got burned up in a wildfire right after Gabe left.” He stared at the empty spot. “Gabe always said that fire was purifying. So when that thunderbolt sparked the grass and the fire broke out, I was the only one who really got the message.” He pulled the postcard out of his jacket and held it in front of him, to his right. “See it?”
Jane easily made out the weathered windmill on the left where “X” marked the spot. They trudged through the moist ground but as they moved closer, the wet earth turned to mud, almost causing Jane to slip several times. Finally, they reached the windmill. Seeing that the “X” was exactly to the left of the windmill, Jane slipped across the muddy slope and scanned the immediate area. “There’s nothing here!”
“It’s gotta be there!”
“What am I even looking for?”
“I guess you’ll know it when you see it,” he said with a shrug.
Jane peered into the muddy swath of land that lined up with the windmill. Nothing. She decided to walk the path, feeling with the tip of her cowboy boot as she inched along. Fewer than five feet in, her boot scuffed against a round metal sign the size of a dinner plate. The bright yellow sun symbol caught her eye. Wiping off the mud from the metal, there was the marker: “Sunny & Son Farms—Spud-Tastic Potatoes Since 1937.”
“This is it, Sage!” Jane looked off to the side. Lying next to the base of the windmill and covered with heavy burlap was a shovel. She started for it when Sage let out a quick whistle. She looked over at him.
He discreetly pointed behind him, toward an upper ridge that rimmed the valley. Standing in full view was Jude, with his ATV close by.
Jane’s blood boiled. “What in the fuck is he doing?”
“Shit,” Sage whispered, kicking the soil and pretending to look out over the valley. “He took the four-wheeler up the shortcut. You can’t dig anything up now.”
Jane’s patience was wearing thin. “Listen to me, kid. My friend and I have to get outta here no later than tonight.”
