Elysium Dreams
Page 43
complaints,” Judge Greer told her.
“Will do, I’ll shred it and make sure that it makes it to the incinerator today.”
“Good, see you tomorrow.” Judge Greer left his office and met his driver in the parking lot.
“I see you are in a good mood today, Judge,” the driver said to him.
“I am. I love it when things work. To court, driver and make it snappy,” the judge laughed.
“On it,” the driver slipped into the car.
Mercurial Dreams - Book 3 in the Dreams & Reality Series
The dashboard said it was already 109 degrees Fahrenheit and it wasn’t even noon yet. The heat shimmering off the sands made it look like the very air had caught fire. The desert stretched in front of the SUV, going on for miles without much more than sand dunes in sight.
Dr. Edward Holmes, a geologist with the University of California, sat in the passenger seat. He was applying zinc oxide to his nose. He had already applied sunscreen to his hands and the rest of his exposed skin.
The driver, Dr. Maxine Lineman was also a geologist with the University of California. She was dressed in desert gear; long sleeves, jeans, boots and in the back seat, a large brimmed sunhat. She would have to wait until they arrived to put the zinc oxide on her nose.
She hated the drive, they both did, but they only made it twice a year. That helped. Coupled with the important research they were doing, almost made it tolerable.
They had gotten a late start this morning. Both of them had been running late. Dr. Holmes had misplaced the zinc oxide, they’d had to stop and buy more. Then Dr. Lineman had ran over a rock shortly after entering the park and had busted a tire.
Changing the tire had been grueling work. The sun beating down on them as they worked to remove the ruined tire. Sweat had rolled down their necks, quickly staining their shirts and wetting the bands of their pants.
Even in the car, they were mildly sweating. The air conditioner was no match for the sun in Death Valley. Nothing seemed to be a match for the scorched earth. Not even scavenger birds dared to settle for very long.
They were headed to the Racetrack Playa, the most inhospitable part of Death Valley, to record how far the sailing stones had moved in the last six months. They still didn’t understand why they moved, just knew that they did and some stones moved faster and further than other stones. It was one of nature’s natural mysteries and both of them had decided to start researching it eight years ago.
Dr. Lineman stopped the Land Rover, but left it running. They had reached the playa. However, it was only June and already reaching the triple digits in the morning. The air outside the Land Rover would steal their breath. It would be thin from the heat and feel warm entering the lungs. They would both begin to instantly have rivers of sweat run off of them.
She applied the zinc oxide to her nose and grabbed her notebook. Dr. Holmes seemed as reluctant as she did to step from the warm interior into the scorching heat. Finally, she sighed and turned the ignition off. They exchanged a glance before getting out.
They found the first marker, a five foot piece of rebar hammered into the hardened ground. On the dry lake bed was a track. Dr. Lineman got out a pen, Dr. Holmes got out a tape measure. They set about searching for the stone. It had moved exactly seventeen feet, four and three-quarters of an inch.
Methodically, they moved to the next one. There were two tracks. They looked at the lines in the sand.
“That’s not one of our stones,” Dr. Holmes said.
“No, but what is it?” Dr. Lineman began walking towards the second stone. It was brown in color, not flat or round, but odd shaped, as if twisted.
“Oh my god!” Dr. Holmes said in horror, realizing it was a body, mummified by the desert’s sun and dryness. “Max, get back in the car.”
Dr. Lineman walked closer. Her mouth fell open to scream, but no words came out. Now she could see that there wasn’t just one, but several of the contorted mummies. It took another second for her brain to kick in. She ran back to the SUV. Dr. Holmes ran with her.
There was no cell phone service in the Racetrack Playa. Dr. Holmes drove at breakneck speed for the nearest ranger station. Dr. Lineman shook from head to toe in the passenger’s seat. She still hadn’t spoken. Dr. Holmes was trying to say soothing things to her, but they weren’t working.
He nearly collided with the ranger’s station. His foot slammed on the break at the last possible moment and they careened through the parking lot and stopped inches from the building. Dr. Lineman had begun crying.
“Bodies!” Dr. Holmes shouted, jumping from the Land Rover. Two rangers were walking out, obviously furious about the near collision.
“There are dozens of bodies on the Racetrack!” Dr. Holmes was now screaming. His voice echoed in his ears, sounding unfamiliar. “Mummified bodies on the Racetrack Playa!”
“Calm down, Dr. Holmes,” one of the rangers said. He looked at the doctor, he’d known him since he started surveying the sailing stones and had never seen him like this. “What are you talking about?”
“The stones, we were checking the stones and...” Dr. Holmes’s eyes suddenly rolled back in his head and he collapsed.
“Call an ambulance, I’ll check on Dr. Lineman,” the ranger told his partner as he went around to the other side of the car. He wrenched the door open. Dr. Lineman was crying, rocking in her seat. Tears left clean streaks through the dirt and sunscreen that covered her face. Her body shook. “Dr. Lineman?”
“Horrible, so horrible,” she whispered. “Dead people on the playa.” She kept repeating this over and over.
Ranger Banks thought for a few minutes. They were both in shock and talking about dead bodies on the Racetrack. The rangers checked the Playa every couple of days. It had been three days since they had driven past it. They hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.
“The ambulance is on the way,” the other ranger said.
“Get them both inside and call the FBI, if they are right, we’re going to need help,” Ranger Banks pulled Dr. Lineman from the car. He half carried her into the ranger’s station. She collapsed into a chair and continued sobbing. “I’m going to drive out there and see what they are talking about.”
“Are you sure?” The second ranger asked.
“I’m sure,” Ranger Banks grabbed the keys to his Cherokee and set out through Death Valley.
Banks drove out to the playa. He stopped as the little dirt road entered the dried lake bed and surveyed the land. Everything seemed normal enough. He turned off the Cherokee and got out a set of binoculars.
Once they were focused, he began to survey the desert. His eyes finally landed on a stone, larger than most and misshapen, unlike most of the stones of the playa. Most of the stones were worn with time and weather, creating semi-flat surfaces. This one did not have a flat surface. It looked craggy and lumpy.
Getting out of the Jeep, he began hiking into the playa. As he got closer, he finally understood what the doctors were talking about. It wasn’t a stone. It was a body and as his eyes adjusted to the heat searing surface, he began to see more of them. Dozens of them seemed to litter the desert floor.
Banks dropped the binoculars. For a time, he could do nothing but stare. No one came to the playa. How had these bodies gotten here? He rushed to his truck and using a satellite phone, called his boss.
About the Author
Hadena James began writing at the age of eight. As a teenager, she had several short stories published in literary magazines. She completed writing her first novel at the age of 17.
Hadena graduated from the University of Missouri with a degree in European History with minors in German and Russian studies. She has always wanted to be a writer so she also took several classes in creative writing.
Hadena primarily writes thrillers and mysteries, but dabbles in other genres. Currently, she writes a romantic comedy series (The Dysfunctiona
l Chronicles) and a fantasy series (The Brenna Strachan series).
When she isn’t busy writing or running her business, Hadena enjoys playing in a steel-tip dart league. She also loves to travel throughout North America and Europe. Her favorite cities are Chicago, Illinois and Berlin, Germany. She is an avid reader, reading everything from the classics like Jane Austen to modern writers like Terry Pratchett. One of her all-time favorite books is “Good Omens” by Neil Gaimen and Terry Pratchett. She writes all of her books while listening to music and the bands tend to get “honorable mentions” within the pages.
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Also by Hadena James
The Dreams & Reality Series
Tortured Dreams (Book 1)
Elysium Dreams (Book 2)
Mercurial Dreams (Book 3)
Explosive Dreams (Book 4)
The Complete Strachan Series
Dark Cotillion (Book 1)
Dark Illumination (Book 2)
Dark Resurrections (Book 3)
Dark Legacies (Book 4)
The Dysfunctional Chronicles
The Dysfunctional Affair (Book 1)
The Dysfunctional Valentine (Book 2)
The Dysfunctional Honeymoon (Book 3)
The Dysfunctional Proposal (Book 4)
Short Story Collection
Tales to Read Before the End of the World