Quantum Theorem

by James Wallace

  “We are in the Expanse, a place that exists at the same time and space in all realities. When I go back to the Collectivus, we will still be connected and be able to communicate as well as share emotions.”

  I looked down and found that I was as naked as a jailbird, and then was surprised to find my scars on my good leg were healed. If that was surprising the next thing, I found was life changing, my prothesis was gone and my real leg was whole.

  “Yes, in the place we are whole and unchanged. We now need to head back, your friends are about to do something stupid.”

  I cocked my head trying to figure out what he meant, when it hit me like a ton of bricks. Bri and Johnson would come in after me if I didn’t come back. A burst of light exploded in front of my eyes and then I found myself back in Kell’s office with Quashay. I stood up and pocketed my weapons quickly.

  “I need to get going,” I turned and headed to the door.

  His voice stopped me in my tracks. “Dan, you will never get out of here. The Collectivus Faquids are bred to find their enemies and are relentless till they do. Wait a moment while I make a call,” he picked up a small device and spoke into using I took as the Collectivus language. A voice answered him back, almost immediately. They conversed back and forth for about two minutes till Quashay put the device down on his desk.

  “What did you tell them?”

  “The truth, I told them a human came in and stabbed my hand and threatened me.”

  “You didn’t tell them about Kell, did you?” I was suddenly afraid.

  “No Dan, I told them you were a crazed human looking for drugs. I informed them that a man, not fitting your description after wounding me moved up to another floor. They should all be converging on the upper floors. Come with me I will walk you out,” Quashay stepped over to me and took my arm.

  I acted like my leg was hurt, as I limped putting my weight on Quashay. We made it down the hall and stopped at the elevator, just as the doors slid open. Two gigantic Collectivus Faquids stood inside. I slipped my hand into my pocket and thought about pulling my Karambits, when Quashay told me via our mind link to relax. We boarded the elevator car and Quashay spoke to the two soldiers as he punched the lobby button.

  “I told them that the crazy human hurt you also, keep up the limp. I am going to take you to the rear of the hospital, so you can escape back out to the woods,” he used our mind link again.

  I took in a deep breath and moaned as if I was in pain. The two Faquids looked down at me and snorted in disgust. I pictured in my head, pulling the Karambits and rending the two into strips of meat and gristle. Quashay shook his head slightly and somehow calmed me, using our link. The elevator dinged and stopped in the lobby, we moved to the side as the Collectivus soldiers shouldered past us and turned toward the front door. We stepped out and turned left toward the back door.

  “Quashay, open that door to our left, trust me.” I was getting the hang of this mental communication.

  Quashay pressed his digital key against a small black reader on the wall. It beeped, and the door opened inward. We stepped in and we're halfway down a small hallway when the door closed on its own leaving us alone.

  “This is where I am going to leave you Quashay, my friends are out this door,” I threw my thumb at the door behind me.

  “Okay my friend. I promise you I will find your Kell. I wish someone could have done this for my wife and children. I will not let happen to you that happened to me. Stay strong, I will be in touch.”

  I turned and offered my hand to Quashay, he glanced down at my hand and studied it for a moment before taking it in his own hand. We didn’t exactly shake; we just held hands and made an unspoken bond. I slipped my hand from his, opened the door, and melted into the darkness. I returned to Johnson and Bri, who seemed amazed to see me.

  “We were about to go rushing in to save you.” Johnson explained.

  “Where is Kell?” Bri asked.

  “Let’s get away from here and I’ll tell you a story you will never believe in a million years,” I moved away from the guys and melted back into the forest.

  We walked in silence for an hour moving through the underbrush stopping every hundred yards and observing the area around us. We would only move when the animals and birds around us started making their natural sounds. That was the safety signal we used to verify no one was stalking us. I led them back toward the river and stopped just inside the trees with a view of the bridge into town.

  I sat down, my back against a tree that allowed me an unobstructed view of the roadway on the bridge and waited till the guys got comfortable before telling them my story about what happened in the hospital. To their credit, they didn’t outright call me a liar or interrupt me as I explained the facts. I finished my story up to where I joined back up with them. When I finished, Bri was the first to raise his hand like a child waiting to be called on by the teacher.

  “This isn’t grade school buddy, ask your question,” I moaned, trying to hold in a laugh.

  Bri looked up to his hand and let it fall into his lap. “So, you’re saying that we are being invaded by a race of people from another realm? Kind of like that TV show Sliders?”

  It took me a minute to remember that old show. “The fact that they can slide into parallel universes, I can understand, but I don’t think the fat kid from “Stand by Me” ever kidnapped other people for their DNA and genetic makeup.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh shit, you’re right Jerry O'Connell. Wasn’t he also in that movie “Jerry Maguire?”” Johnson jumped in.

  “Yeah he played Frank Cushman,” Brian snapped his fingers quietly.

  “I always thought he was in “Goonies””

  “No, you are thinking of the guy who played Chunk, his name is Jeff Cohen, he is really skinny now and is a lawyer.”

  In exasperation, I blew out a breath I had been holding and shook my head. “Did we just digress into a discussion of fat actors who turned into skinny guys? All from me explaining a harrowing situation about our town and the entire West Coast of the U.S. falling into the hands of an alien enemy force who are using people as genetic material?”

  Bri and Johnson, stopped bickering about movie actors and turned toward me. They hunched their shoulders in unison as if they had practiced that move together. Synchronized ignorance, they would get gold medals if it was an Olympic sport.

  “So, what do you guys think we should do?” I asked.

  “That’s easy. We get more men and women together and we go guerilla on them. We proved that they can die, and I doubt they have ever fucked with a race as determined as humans.” Bri answered.

  “Yeah, what the big stupid Sasquatch said.” Johnson threw in.

  Bri whipped out his closed fist and pounded Johnson’s shoulder. “Words hurt asshole,” Bri pouted.

  “You two done fucking around yet?”

  They looked at each other for a moment as if having a wordless conversation. As one they nodded in agreement. With as much exercise they had been getting, if my eyes rolled at this point, they would have fallen straight out of my head.

  “Okay. There is nothing we can do right now. There are only three of us, and we don’t have enough firepower to make a difference yet. I want you two to head to my ramch and protect your families. I am gonna try and make it to the Malleus bunker. I’m hoping my team is there, if they are, we will kit up and come secure the ranch. You guys need to keep the farm protected till then.” I finished explaining where they could find my weapon cache and the alarm system. I pointed out where old Bess was sitting on the other side of the bridge.

  “How are you gonna get to the bunker?” Bri asked.

  “I am going to ride the bike as far as it will take me and hopefully find other transportation. I should be back to the house in twenty-four hours or less.”

  “Where is the bunker?” Johnson asked.

  “I am not at liberty to divulge that information at this point and time.”

  “You sir, are an assh
ole, but okay we are just wasting time. See you soon, keep your head down and your ass safe.”

  “Got it, and you stay low behind Sasquatch. He makes a great shield and bullet catcher.” I bumped fists with the guys. “Catch you boys later.”

  They headed out as low as they could making their way to my truck as I turned and jogged through the forest back to where I stashed the bike. I found it and pushed it through some of the worse underbrush I had ever experience, before I came to a big clearing. I slung my leg over the seat and flipped the switch to on. Soon I was flying down old hunting trails and heading out toward the hidden Malleus bunker.

  “Dan!” a voice yelled at me. I slammed on the brakes and slid the bike sideways digging twin trenches in the mud as I stopped. I looked around for the voice and couldn’t find any. I pulled my Glock, as I sent the MK 14 away with Bri, and swept the area around me. “Dan it is I, Quashay.”

  I closed my eyes and relaxed. “I hear you Quashay. What is wrong?”

  “I am about to enter the rift It may be awhile before I contact you again. Time runs slower in my realm, what is a day for me is two weeks for you. I don’t want you thinking I forgot about you.”

  “No worries, I am building an army to fight back against the Collectivus.”

  “Excellent idea, the one thing that may give you an advantage is that the Collectivus Faquids cannot fight without a leader. If you take their officer out first, the rest will be easier to defeat. The officers are easy to identify. They are smaller than the Faquids and usually wear a triangle grey patch on their right shoulder. I am leaving now, good luck my friend.”

  “Same to you, thanks.”

  I checked the charge on my bike and found it down to fifteen percent. I had been riding it as fast as it would go covering a long distance from the town, but I had so much further still to go. The bike came with a solar charge but took eight hours to give me a full charge, and I did not have that kind of time to waste. I would just have to deal with that problem when it happened. I opened the throttle wide open and was again flying over the empty fields. Every mile I dropped my head and checked on the remaining charge. I was losing power fast, when the gauge showed one percent, I backed off the throttle to one quarter. I was moving faster than a fast run, but not by much. I wanted to save my own energy as much as I could. I was amazed how long the bike kept going on just one percent charge. I went almost three miles before the bike’s gauges flashed at me and an alarm blared. I stopped and examined the area I found myself in. I was about another thirty miles from the bunker and the sun was just breaking over the Eastern mountains.

  I got off the bike and pushed it to a mound of cut hay. I covered the bike with the hay, the best I could as I laid it on its side. I unwound the cable to the solar panels and laid them flat on the ground. It was not an ultimate way for them to get a charge, but I wanted to make them as nearly impossible to see from a distance. One would have to practically walk right up on the panels to see them. I fixed the location in my mind; did I mention I have an Eidetic memory? No? Well I do, I can’t forget anything I see, hear, or read. It can be annoying at times, like remembering the pain and every detail about my injuries, but it was helpful when I needed it to be.

  I checked my gear and tightened the straps on my leg. With that done I took off on a run using in a “combat shuffle,” a pace I could keep up for hours. The sun was almost dead ahead when I slowed and stopped, sitting on a fallen log to catch my breath and drink the last of my water. I checked my watch and it said it was eleven thirty. I had run for almost four and a half hours, covering almost twelve miles. I know that isn’t very fast, but did you consider I was running over uneven and broken land, through creeks, vaulting over fences and having to stop and check my surroundings. I needed to be cautious, I didn’t run straight into a Collectivus ambush, or convoy. I was gonna give myself another five more minutes of rest before I got up and back to my running when a shadow appeared over me. I somersaulted forward coming up on my knee and turning to take in shadow’s owner with my Glock in my hands. When a black mare came out of the trees whinnying. I holstered the Glock and slowly got to my knees, the horse was saddled, but had no rider. I got to my feet and made my way over slowly hand up palm out. She came closer and dropped her head sniffing at my hand. I brought up my other hand and rubbed her neck.

  “Where did you come from sweetheart? Where is your rider?” I spoke quiet and soft to the horse.

  I moved down her flanks rubbing her gently till I got to her saddle. There was blood on the stirrups. I touched it and found it tacky and still not dried all the way. I came back to the horse’s head and reached up scratching her behind the ears. I took her reigns and held them lightly, letting her get used to me.

  “What’s your name sweetie? I moved back down her flanks and placed my foot in one of her stirrups. She seemed okay with it, didn’t twitch or try to move away. I flexed my thigh muscles and stepped up higher, swinging my prothesis over her side and pushed my boot into her other stirrup. I settled down into her saddle and checked out the stitching on the horn of her saddle. Someone had stitched a name into it.

  “Is your name Christine?”

  The horse raised her head and dropped it quickly twice. I reached forward and patted her majestic neck.

  “Alright Christine, if you give me a lift, I can promise some oats, apples, and carrots when we get to my destination.”

  Christine moved forward a couple of steps prancing as if she was a show horse. I held on as she cantered around showing me her stuff. I had never ridden a horse like this, last time I was on a horse, it was in the big desert, and I was on the trail of some ISIS asshats. This horse though was not a beast of burden, she wanted to show me what she could do. I pulled back on her reigns and clucked my tongue at her. She stopped showing off as I pointed her in the direction I needed to go. She broke into a fast trot and we moved through the trees and down a dry creek.

  Christine and I quickly got used to each other in the time we spent in the trees and brush. When we finally broke out into an open field Christine decided to show me what she could do. She opened up her gait into a full speed gallop. She was reaching speeds I guesstimated at thirty miles an hour. She snorted in excitement as she hit her happy pace, we were coming up on a three-foot fence and I was becoming a little apprehensive. If she decided to stop from full speed she would throw me ass overhead onto the rock and dirt. If anything, Christine picked up her speed, next thing I knew she was in the air, I gripped my knees against the saddle and her flanks trying to hold on. She flew over the fence with room to spare. She was amazing, if I never found her owner, she was going to become my new best friend. Bri and Johnson would have to drop down my list of friends, Christine didn’t talk back or argue like those morons.

  We were halfway across the next field when Christine slowed down to a good trot. She had shown me what she could do, and now she was snorting and breathing hard trying to recuperate from her fun. I corrected her course, moving her into the direction I needed to go. She took my guidance easily; we were well into a wonderful budding relationship. As we came to the next fence, separating the highway and the field we were in, we found that someone had crashed their truck into it. I slowed Christine down with the reigns to a slow canter. I defensively pulled my Glock and pointed it in front of me, close to my side and out of view of anyone who could be hiding. As we got closer to the wreck Christine neighed and tried to pull away from it, as if she could smell danger. I corrected her, but she resisted again, moving sideways. I now had a better view of the wreck, a man stepped out bringing a black shape up, I quickly identified it as an old .38 caliber Colt Lightning a double action pistol, like they used to use in the old western days. I lifted my Glock showing the dark shape that I was also armed. It was then I heard a familiar voice.

  “Dan? Is that you, cowpoke?” The man spoke in a very pronounce Texas twang.

  “Doc!?” I called back.

  “Yeah, where did you get the mare?” A man who looke
d the spitting image of Doc Holliday came out of the shadows of the wreck and slid his gun into a cowboy like holster that hung low from a belt around his waist. The man ran a finger down one side of his droopy long mustache and moseyed up to Christine and me. He held his hand out and Christine immediately came forward and sniffed his hand.

  “I am headed to the bunker. What the hell happened here? And oh, Christine here, found me and gave me a lift.”

  “She is a beauty. I was at home when the shit hit the fan and all communications went down. I was just coming around that bend down yonder when this, UFO like ship shot my truck with this blue shit. I slid off the side of the road, broke the rear axle and ended up in this fence. Hit my head on the steering wheel,” he removed his black cowboy hat showing me a lump and red spot on his forehead.

  “Damn that had to hurt. We ain’t too far from the bunker. You want a ride bitch?” I offered him a hand up to ride on the back of the horse.

  Doc gave me a look as if to say, “do you know who you are talking to?” He then pointed to my side. I turned Christine in the direction as a male chestnut colored horse with a white mane and tail trotted toward us. Doc put his fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. The horse headed straight to him, as if sensing that Doc was a horse whisperer or something.

  “He has no saddle Doc,” I observed.

  “I am a real-life cowboy son. I shoot, ride, and spit better than any goat roper.” Doc eyed me as he spoke. The Palomino trotted over and stopped in front of Doc. Doc reached up and patted its thick neck and spoke to it in such a quiet whisper that I couldn’t hear what he said. Next thing I knew doc had somehow got onto the horse bareback. Doc gripped the stallion’s mane. “I think I will call you Nellie, after my first colt when I was six.”

  “You want to trailblaze for us Doc?”

  “Can you keep up boy? Without getting hurt that is?”

  “Just call me Wyatt.”

  “You are gonna have to earn that name son. Now see if you can keep up,” Doc’s horse Nellie moved down the ditch and over the wrecked fence, then up the other side and onto the highway.