Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (15 page)

Andy blew out an exasperated breath and stomped
back into the house. The dog's barking was piercing and sounded more frantic
than before. "Waldo!" Andy yelled, "Waldo, you come here this minute and stop
that barking!"

Waldo stopped barking and came running up to
Andy, tail between his legs. Andy immediately felt chagrined since he had never
yelled at the dog before. "Oh, Waldo, it's okay boy, it's okay," he said,
reaching down to rub the dog's head and ears. Waldo whimpered and Andy realized
he was shaking.

"You really are scared, aren't you, big fella?
Well, it will be okay. You just settle down now. How 'bout we go for a run? How
would you like that?"

Hearing the soothing tones in Andy's voice, the
big, black Labrador slowly wagged his tail. "Come on then, let's go to the
beach," Andy said to Waldo, and the two moved outside to the car.

Highway 98 West, heading out of Florida

"I'm driving as fast as I can!" Lisanne said,
irritated, as Merlin dug his claws into her thigh. The cat had been pushing her
to more speed ever since she had pulled her 1965 Mustang out of the condo
parking lot that morning. The trunk was stuffed with every article of clothing
she owned and books and computer parts filled the backseat. They had made two
stops after clearing out her bank account before leaving town--one to the gas
station to fill up the car and buy extra oil. The next stop had been at the
local computer store to buy a top of the line laptop computer with a power
adapter that could be plugged into the car's lighter along with extra batteries
for the computer. Lisanne had made the salesman's day when she requested that
all kinds of expensive software be loaded onto the extra-large hard drive right
there in the store. Once she pulled out a wad of cash from her black jeans
pockets and leaned over the salesman's desk so that her violet-toned silk
blouse fell open just so, he hadn't even minded that she'd brought a cat into
the store.

"So how does it feel to own your very own
computer, Merlin?" she asked as rain pelted the windshield. His only answer was
to press his claws a little deeper into the denim fabric covering her legs. "Ouch!
Enough already, I get it. It's starting to rain--doesn't necessarily mean
anything, you know. Even if the wind is picking up. And we are already seventy
miles inland so even if it does hit, we should be okay."

Lisanne slowed and congratulated herself again
for thinking to buy a radar detector on her way out of the electronics store.
Sure enough, a state trooper sat hidden behind the curve of the two-lane
highway, tucked into the pine trees that lined the asphalt cutting through the
lowlands of south Alabama.

Suddenly, a curtain of water fell in front of
the car, obscuring Lisanne's vision of the road. Slowing, she drove cautiously
through the worst downpour she had ever seen. The windshield wipers couldn't
begin to keep up with the deluge, and she pulled the car off the road onto the
shoulder and stopped. Merlin meowed.

"Look, you can see as well as I can--probably
better--and there is no way we can keep going. This will blow over soon. Don't
worry. Just a little rain is all. That's all. And I'm babbling," Lisanne said
shakily.

As the window fogged up, Lisanne peered out and
then gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. Softly,
without turning away from the window, she said to Merlin, "Okay, pal, now don't
get alarmed or anything, but you need to jump up onto the dashboard and look
out here...cause I don't know if I'm hallucinating or if what I'm seeing is
real. And if it is, I don't know what it means."

Merlin cocked his head at Lisanne and wondered
at the fearful undercurrent in her soft tones. He leapt to the dash and glanced
out the window and then found his eyes riveted to the road--the moving road.

"I know it's just my imagination, right?"
Lisanne asked, turning to Merlin, who shook his head several times
definitively. "But what could cause that? We aren't having an earthquake...it's
just raining out there...but the road, the road looks like it is alive!"

All at once Merlin knew, and the fur stood up on
his back as he growled menacingly. The sky had grown darker as the rain
continued to douse the road, and as Lisanne flicked on the headlights, her eyes
opened wide in fright at what they revealed. Lisanne screamed.

The lights illuminated a twisting mass of
snakes, slithering across black pavement as they crept out from the trees.
Lisanne sat paralyzed, watching more snakes enter her line of vision,
surrounding the car. Her mind switched on again as she felt Merlin's teeth
gently pulling her hand off the steering wheel. She stared at him blankly until
realization hit and she said, "Run. We have to run. Get out of here. Fast. How?
Turn on the car. Right. Turn the key." She was afraid to move an inch. She had
the awful feeling that the snakes were coming to get her, that they could get
into the car. Get into the car. Snakes in the car. Snakes.

Savagely twisting the key in the ignition, the
car sputtered and then purred to life. Gunning the engine, no don't flood it,
whatever you do don't flood the engine, she pressed the gas pedal as she put
the car in gear. The car moved slowly and then picked up speed, they're rolling
over them, oh yuck, she bet you could hear squishing sounds if the wind and
rain weren't so loud. And when had that happened? When did it get so loud
outside? Doesn't matter, just keep going, keep moving, faster now, they're
everywhere! Don't panic. Too late, already panicking. Just keep the car moving.
It does look like the road is moving. Why couldn't it just be that? She hated
snakes. She really, really, really, absolutely, positively hated snakes. Where
are they all coming from? Where?

As Merlin meowed at her, Lisanne realized she'd
been talking out loud--or rather, screaming out loud. She took a deep breath
and said in a slightly lower tone of voice, "Sorry, pal, did I just blow out
your eardrums?"

Merlin rubbed his head against her elbow as he
sat close to her. Thank goodness she seemed to be settling down. He'd thought
she was going to lose it there, run off the road or something. Not a good idea
right now. Coral snakes and rattlesnakes were common in this part of the
country and a bite from a coral snake could kill you.

"Wonder why they came out of the trees like
that? The rain? Who knows, who cares, at least we are moving now getting out of
this place."

Lisanne's body stiffened next to him as she said
in a high-pitched voice, "You don't think any of them got in the car, do you,
Merlin? They couldn't have, right? No, they couldn't, they can't have, oh, my
god, if there are any snakes in this car, I really will just die, Merlin, are
they in the car?" Her sputtering ended in a screech.

Merlin searched the inside of the car and didn't
find any snakes. He had no idea if they could have gotten into the car, in the
engine, or the trunk, but there didn't appear to be any actually in the
interior of the car. He jumped back into the front seat and curled up on
Lisanne's lap, purring loudly to let her know all was well, for now anyway.

SNN Headquarters, Atlanta Georgia

Phoebe stared at the pink message pad, drumming perfectly
shaped, oval-tipped nails on her desk, and debated once again whether she
should relay this name and number to Maria. Being Maria's secretary meant she
had to sift through and filter the messages that came in for her boss, or Maria
would spend all her time returning calls. And this one was a doozy. A lawyer
who predicted disasters. Yeah, right, thought Phoebe. Except...except the woman
had sounded so desperate and so certain. That was it, Phoebe decided. It was
the certainty in Margaret Larson's voice as she presented her case. The woman
seemed absolutely convinced that a massive hurricane "unlike anything seen in
this century" would hit the Gulf coast soon. After checking with the weather
people, Phoebe was convinced the woman was a nut job because the weather guys
had actually laughed and showed her all the reasons a hurricane was
not
forming in the Gulf. So why couldn't she just toss the message into the trash?

Phoebe was the perfect secretary. Everyone said
so. Except the psychiatrist she saw only once, who told her she was
obsessive-compulsive. He suggested medication. After hearing that she could end
up being just like
normal
people, Phoebe declined, knowing that her life
required a certain attention to detail, as did her job. Yet, it bothered her to
have to check the stove to see whether it was off at least fifteen times every
night only to discover each and every time that it was indeed off. Yes, it was
a real drag to have to get up earlier just so she could go back home, after
leaving for work, to check whether or not the front door to her apartment was
really locked. She tried to just leave once and not return, but the doubt was
always there. Did she actually lock the door? Or did she only
think
about
locking it? The only way to be absolutely sure was to check the door. And it
was, of course, locked. But by the time she turned the first corner, a block
from her apartment, the fear started. Maybe that time she had unlocked it
while checking and then forgot to lock it again. And so checking the door was
gradually added to her list of daily rituals. Each morning was touched by
twinges of panic on the edges.

But her compulsions also meant she was great at
organizing Maria's work life. It meant that Maria knew Phoebe would check for
every last mistake in a piece of copy or would spend days, if necessary,
tracking down a detail Maria needed for research on a story. Why, Phoebe had
wondered, would she want to be like normal people anyway? They were the crazy
ones, always forgetting appointments, never getting anywhere on time, living
utterly sloppy lives. Ugh.

Now, however, her obsessiveness also meant that
this message was not being thrown away. Phoebe couldn't help feeling that the
message should be given to Maria. She ran her long, thin fingers through her
straight, ash-brown hair. Five times over the top of her sleek head. After all,
Phoebe rationalized to herself, Maria didn't have to go there and wait for a
non-existent hurricane. The Larson woman said it would happen by tomorrow. But what
if it wasn't non-existent? That was the question. It could hit. It might. The
woman had sounded so certain. Trembling hands smoothed her straight black
cotton skirt over her bony knees. Ten times, perfectly smooth. Of course, it
was probably all a crock. A silly call from a strange woman. Nothing to worry
about. Although, it might be true. And how far were Atlanta and her
immaculately clean apartment from the Gulf, anyway? If the hurricane did
hit...oh, my God, thought Phoebe, sharpening already sharp pencils, what a mess
that would be. Hurricanes were very messy. Perhaps she should call Maria right
this minute. Not that Maria could stop it, but then Maria could check out this
lawyer-psychic. If there was no hurricane, then she and Maria could have a good
laugh--and God knows Maria could sure use a laugh, thought Phoebe. She picked
up the phone to call Maria in Allenville. She picked it up and put it down
eight times. She was surprised when she could dial it on the ninth try--usually
she was locked into multiples of five. Interesting.

Interstate 10, West of Biloxi, Mississippi

Andy Jordan drove at a steady sixty miles an
hour, his thoughts on Waldo. Even though the Labrador was sitting in the front
seat occasionally staring out the passenger window, Andy could tell the dog was
not doing well. Every few minutes he made whimpering sounds and shifted his
position in the seat. Maybe, Andy thought, he should be on his way to the vet
instead of heading toward Gulfport. Still, a drive in the car tended to calm
Waldo down in normal circumstances, so Andy continued down I-10. They were only
five minutes away from the outskirts of Gulfport now. He'd wait to decide what
to do till then.

Suddenly Waldo began barking. A constant yelping
bark as he tried to stand in the car's seat. Andy was so startled he swerved
slightly, then gripped the wheel harder and looked for an exit.

"Easy, boy!" he said to Waldo. "Calm down, it's
okay, you're okay, boy. Everything's okay, Waldo," repeating these phrases like
a mantra. The dog continued barking as the car approached an interchange of
highways, where I-10 intersected Highway 49, which headed north. As Andy pulled
into the left lane to pass the interchange, Waldo barked even louder. Andy
decided he couldn't wait to find an exit and pulled back into the right lane,
intending to pull off the road. Waldo fell silent.

Andy was almost unnerved by the sudden cessation
of barking and stared at the dog in bewilderment.

"What the hell?" he said. "Have you gone nuts? I
mean I'm glad you stopped barking, but what is going on?" After a half mile of
quiet, Andy pulled into the left lane again to avoid entering the upcoming exit
which led to Highway 49. Waldo rose up and put his paws on the dash and began
barking furiously. Swerving back into the right lane, Andy was stunned as Waldo
immediately shut up and sat back down in the passenger seat.

As they approached the exit for Hattiesburg,
Andy tried once more to change lanes and was witness to the same strange
behavior. "Are you trying to get me to Hattiesburg, Waldo?" Andy asked the dog,
his tones rising in confusion. Waldo slowly turned his big black head to stare
directly into Andy's blue-gray eyes. Then he barked. Once.

Andy brought his gaze back to the road, stared
at the signs for the highway, and pointed the car up the exit that led to
Hattiesburg. "I'm probably nuts, in fact, I know I'm nuts," he said aloud,
shaking his head. "This is crazy--the things I do for you, Waldo! We'll stop
ahead and I'll call the station to get someone to fill in for me."

Waldo heard Andy say that and, for the first
time all day, relaxed. Maybe he and Andy would live through this after all.
Maybe.