Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (12 page)

"Looks like we're off to see the F5 tornadoes,
Zack, old buddy," Maria said blithely, and then turned and stomped off to
gather her belongings.

Louisville, Kentucky

Sherry scrubbed down the counters of the diner
with Lysol before making her avocado and tomato sandwich. She first tasted the
combination of avocados and tomatoes during a visit to Janine, Sherry's best
friend. Sherry's mom would call Janine a harlot if she ever saw her in that
pink sequined halter top with the black spandex pants. That would never happen,
though, since Sherry's mom was dead. A freak boating accident had placed her in
a liquid cemetery.

As Sherry got out the mayonnaise and
pumpernickel bread, she stopped to tie up her waist-length, dirty blond hair in
a garbage bag twist tie. She had thick, straight hair the consistency of a
horse's tail.

She began to slice the tomato into slices
one-eighth inch thick with the large butcher knife. Next came the avocado,
peeled, pitted, and scraped until a mound of perfect olive green with tinges of
pale mustard yellow avocado lay on a sparkling white plate.

Slathering Hellman's mayonnaise on the
pumpernickel, Sherry felt it start to happen. The first bit of moisture in her
mouth, the aching anticipation of that first bite of soft, squishy avocado
between her sharp, square teeth. She wanted to just slap it all together fast
and cram the delectable mixture into her mouth in one huge, gross bite,
smearing avocado and mayo down her neck, letting tomato juice dribble over the
curves of the tops of her breasts. But, no, that would spoil it. The moment
must be perpetuated to be savored properly.

Gently she laid the slices of tomato onto the
mayo-covered, dark brown bread, overlapping the edges. One dash of salt was
sprinkled on each ripe, red, meaty slice. Next came the entree--the avocado,
sliced carefully due to its ripeness. A moment's delay as Sherry debated
whether to lick off that small piece of green that had mashed out onto her
finger. No...wait for it--that's what Janine had taught her--wait for it. She
continued construction of her masterpiece with the avocado-smeared pinkie
finger crooked out as if she were at tea in the Waldorf. Careful consideration
was taken to place the avocado so that no spaces or gaps were left between each
piece. It really was an art form, she thought.

Raising the butcher knife, she then lowered it
with precision to the skin of a bright, yellow lemon, measuring the distance
until the blade was centered. Firm, quick thrusts of the blade revealed a
pulpy, juice-laden center of tartness needing to be squeezed. Using the tip of
the knife, Sherry pried each seed out of the lemon, flicking them into the
large, black Rubbermaid garbage can at the end of the counter. Gently, but
firmly, she squeezed lemon juice over the avocado. A fine spray misted the
slices.

Finally, another layer of tomatoes placed on top
with a dash of salt on each and voila! The top piece of bread could be laid
down over all, making sure that corners matched up exactly, but, yes, it was
done, it was time, she was so ready for that first--no, wait for it. That's
right. There was one more duty to be performed. Reaching into the appliance
drawer, she grabbed the electric knife, plugged it in, and ever so slowly cut
the crusts off the bread. Only an electric knife could accomplish such
intricate surgery. Then a steady hand was required to guide the blade
diagonally through the center, leaving two geometrically precise triangles of
ecstasy waiting on the cutting board for Sherry.

She lifted up one half to her partially opened,
waiting mouth and lips and tongue, slight shallow breaths coming more swiftly
now. As her teeth sunk into the bliss that was her late lunch, Sherry heard a
roaring sound.

"Today, at 2:35 p.m., a tornado ripped off the
roof of this diner in Louisville, Kentucky as it plowed through six city
blocks. The buildings on these blocks are crumbling shells, and all reports
indicate that the employees were sucked up into the giant vortex and spit out
about ten miles down the road. The tornado was one of ten rated F5 that struck
Louisville today in a freak weather occurrence as they all appeared at roughly
the same time. In every area struck by a tornado, there are no survivors.
Unofficial estimates are that approximately 25,000 people died in the attack of
killer tornadoes. More tornadoes hit all across the state of Kentucky, but
there is no word at this hour on the number of casualties. This is Maria
Santiago for SNN news, reporting live from Jake's Diner in Louisville."

Fort Walton Beach, Florida

Fine, white sand, warm from the day's sun,
heated the soles of Lisanne's feet as she walked along the beach, heading for
home. Small, quiet waves lapped the shore, aqua color shading into midnight
blue in the twilight. Lisanne had not walked this stretch of beach in months,
usually too consumed with the quest for alcoholic oblivion by this time of day.
Since the mysterious message on her computer yesterday, she had been afraid to
take a drink. Time to stop running away, she thought, time to face my life,
such as it is. Reaching her apartment door, she opened it, calling out to
Merlin, "I have an announcement to make."

Merlin walked into the living room, watching her
warily.

"Okay, here's the deal--I'm not going to run
away anymore. I'm going to face my life head-on. I just wanted to tell you
that, to keep me honest. It will help to know someone else knows I'm trying.
So--no matter what crazy idea led me to leave that message on my computer, I'm
not leaving, I'm not running away. It's time for me to grow up. Well, are you
proud of me or what?"

Merlin yowled at her, arching his back, fur
standing on end. Lisanne gazed at him in surprise and said, "What the hell??"

The cat was livid. Of all the stupid, asinine
decisions to make. Fool! Now, at the worst possible time, she decides not to
run away. Idiot, he wanted to say, running away is the only thing that will
save you now. He ran into her bedroom, saw she wasn't following him and ran
back to her and meowed, and then ran back to the bedroom. Lisanne followed,
muttering, "What is wrong with you, you crazy cat?"

When she reached the doorway, however, she
abruptly stopped talking and stared. A mound of her clothes and shoes had been
heaped in the middle of the bedroom floor. Approaching the pile of clothing
gingerly, she reached out to touch a purple rayon blouse and whispered, "Oh my
God, what have I done?"

Merlin meowed loudly at her, circling the
distraught young woman.

"I know,
I
know
, I didn't have a
drink today! When did I do this? Am I losing my mind? I must be, I must be
going nuts...what the hell am I going to do?" Lisanne wailed. Gulping a deep
breath of air, she continued, "Okay, don't panic, there's got to be a logical
reason I would dump all my clothes in the middle of the floor. No, there's only
one explanation, I'm crazy, I've lost it. Calm down, can't afford to be
hysterical now. Oh, Merlin, what am I doing?" Lisanne became aware that Merlin
was meowing like crazy and pawing at her arm. She watched as the black cat
leaped into the clothing and picked up a blouse in his mouth, teeth gently
grasping the soft material. He dragged it across the room.

"Hey, watch it, you stupid cat--you're going to
put holes in it if you..." her voice trailed off as Lisanne watched Merlin
place another piece of clothing on top of the pile. "What are you doing?" she
asked wonderingly.

Merlin dashed into the living room and hopped up
onto the computer desk. Howling at Lisanne to follow him, Merlin slowly typed
out a message on the keyboard. Lisanne stopped abruptly in the middle of the
room as she saw what he was doing. Fear gripped her stomach and she was afraid
to move.

"What in the name of all that is holy is that
cat doing? And why am I afraid?" she said softly.

Merlin finished and sat next to the monitor,
meowing for Lisanne to come near. Lisanne continued quietly to herself, "Okay,
now I know I'm not hallucinating...no alcohol today or yesterday...so the cat
is probably just imitating what he has seen me do, although that does seem like
kind of strange behavior for a cat...."

She tiptoed silently over to the desk, afraid to
make much noise. Afraid of what, she didn't know. There, in large blazing
letters on the screen was Merlin's message:

YOU IDIOT

WE HAVE TO LEAVE HERE

NOW

DANGER NEAR

BIG STORM COMING WILL KILL YOU.

"Idiot? Who do you think you are, calling me an
idiot," Lisanne began, and then clamped her lips firmly shut. She looked at the
screen and the cat, back and forth several times, her mind totally engaged in
deciphering this puzzle, putting together the pieces and finding it
unbelievable, but faced with the evidence.

"What the hell?" she sputtered, "Merlin--Merlin,
it was you who typed in that other message. It wasn't me so I'm not crazy after
all--well, okay maybe I am but still it was you, not me! But how? How can you
do this? It's impossible, but it isn't 'cause here it is and I saw you do it.
So you were pulling out my clothes so I would pack to leave...but why? What is
the big deal? We aren't in any danger here. Remember that big storm the other
day? We were fine here, in fact, it was kind of cool watching the lightning out
over the water--"

She stopped as Merlin jumped in front of the
keyboard and laboriously typed in his response:

THIS NOT LIKE THAT

HURRICANE A SURPRISE

NO WARNING

WILL BE TOO LATE TO LEAVE

HAVE TO GO NOW

"But, Merlin...this is crazy," she began.

Merlin angrily typed again:

NOT CRAZY

YOU NEED TO BELIEVE ME

NOT CRAZY IS REAL

Lisanne collapsed into the chair in front of the
computer and put her head in her hands. "This is really too much," she said
loudly. "I'm fucked up enough already, and now my cat has decided to become
extraordinary and start communicating with me. In English. On my computer. And
the first thing he communicates....it couldn't be a message like 'Hi. This is
your cat Merlin talking to you'...no, he has to start out with dire warnings of
impending doom. In some ways, it doesn't surprise me. I have that kind of
life--doom filled. Why shouldn't he start out with that--I mean, really, this
is just too fucking
much
!" She ended with a yell.

Merlin growled at her and sat waiting.

"Okay, okay," she said and took a deep breath,
letting it out slowly. Leaning back in the chair she searched Merlin's eyes,
looking for signs of the intelligence he had exhibited. And as their eyes met,
Lisanne knew, knew in her gut that this was really happening. That Merlin was
talking to her. She knew, with a trembling feeling of growing excitement, that
the world was a much more complex, surprising, and wonderful place than she had
ever imagined.

Allenville, Texas

When the river broke through the dam, a wall of
churning water cut through the town of Allenville. There was no warning siren,
no news flash on the radio or television--just the sudden roar of water. The
town was inundated from 5:38-5:41 p.m. In those precious three minutes,
families sitting down to suppers of meatloaf and mashed potatoes or fried
chicken and biscuits heard the loud roar and felt the ground tremble. In those
three minutes, picture windows shattered by the force of the water, shards of
glass sweeping into the waiting bodies.

The oldest woman in the Johnson family was Ella
Mae. She had just started to tell her grandson Joey about the time she decided
to raise arugula to sell at the farmers market when she was slammed into the
next room as the dining room wall was pounded in by the water.

Henrietta Taggart was building a fort made of
blocks with her three year old daughter Jenny. "Now what shall we name our
fort?" Henrietta asked as she heard the roar. Looking up from the toys,
Henrietta and Jenny had a moment of life and sight left. People, parts of
people, dogs, cats, pieces of houses were all bearing down on them with the
ferocity of a freight train made of water. There was not time to scream.

Mary London was supposed to be on a boat to
Bermuda. Her condo was being remodeled. Torrance, Mary's boyfriend, had offered
the trip to Bermuda in an attempt to convince her to accept his marriage
proposal. Mary, however, needed more time, so she was staying at the Longview
Motel in downtown Allenville. She was on the phone with Torrance when the line
went dead and the roar began. "What the...?" Mary started, only to be lifted
off her feet by the torrent of rushing water. The air was sucked out of her
lungs as the watery hands squeezed her body in half, slamming her over the
dresser, driving splinters of wood into what skin remained. She was a rag doll,
limp and torn.

"Last night, the little town of Allenville,
population 6,073, was obliterated from the face of the earth in a ravaging
flood. Allenville was located below the Corey River Dam, which burst last night
at approximately 5:30 p.m. Authorities are baffled by the break in the dam,
saying it passed recent inspections with flying colors, and are calling it a
sunny-day dam failure. The water level of Corey River was nowhere near flood
stage and officials have no answer as to why this disaster occurred. The
destruction of Allenville is the latest in a string of disasters that defy
explanation. This is Maria Santiago, reporting for SNN live from the remains of
Allenville."

Yanking the earpiece from her ear, Maria threw
the microphone at Zack. "Let's get the hell out of here," she said forcefully. "I
can't stay another minute knowing six thousand people are buried under all that
water." Pacing back and forth in front of the newly formed lake, Maria started
to shake. "Zack," she said, in a trembling voice, "I don't know if I can do
this anymore."