Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (32 page)

And Max, laughing hesitantly, followed her,
calling out, "Okay! I'm coming."

St. Louis, Missouri

"What do you mean there's no answer?" Alex
demanded.

Nathan just stared at her, saying finally, "What
part of that don't you understand? There-is-no-answer. They must not be
home. I think we should just finish the shopping and head on over there. We can
be there later today or tonight."

Alex bit her lip, and then nodded. She wasn't
sure why the idea of talking to Nathan's family had assumed such a feeling of
significance–maybe it was because she knew her family was probably gone. She'd
tried calling from New York and now here, but no calls were getting through to
L.A. Not that her relationship with her family had been anything to brag about
for quite a while now, but still, it was hard to think of them going through
that L.A. earthquake. Hard to think she might be all alone in the world. Even
if she'd pretty much been alone in the world while her family lived, this was
the real thing. No chance of reconciliation, no second chances at all.

She hated feeling dependent on Nathan as things
just got crazier, but hearing he had family in the place they were headed to,
well, it just felt wonderful. A connection. To not be adrift in the midst of
the chaos and scary unknown they found themselves in now. I wonder, she
thought, if I'm not just a teensy bit in shock, after all this travel and the
dreams and the disasters.

"Okay," she said gruffly. "Let's fill up this
shopping cart with tools from the hardware section, and then head over to the
garden center. I'm going to fill up another shopping cart of feminine hygiene
products. If the world is falling apart, I'm not going without some basic
necessities."

Nathan looked puzzled. "Feminine hygiene?" Then
he blushed. "Uh, yeah, right. Right. You do that."

Alex grinned wickedly at him. "Or maybe you
could handle that for me while I hit the grocery store?"

"Um, no, that's okay. You probably know what you
need to, um, buy."

"What's your deal? Nathan, why are you
embarrassed by this?"

"Well, I just thought of something. Maybe you
should--well, maybe you should see about buying a case of condoms--you know--"
His voice trailing off, Nathan blushed again.

"Oh, my God!" Alex started to laugh, but then
thought about it. She hadn't been with anyone in ages, but if things really
were coming apart at the seams, the last thing she wanted was to get pregnant
if she did find someone to have sex with! In fact, the more she thought about
it, there were just tons of things she'd as soon not go without over the long
haul. Funny how she could rough it in Africa, but being back in the States made
her want every luxury item.

Nathan looked totally surprised that Alex didn't
complain or even hit him in the arm as she marched off to get another shopping
cart, calling over her shoulder, "Well, don't just stand there! We have condoms
to buy and tampons to stock up on. And don't even get me started thinking about
toilet paper!"

Sonoran Desert, Arizona

Maria took the satellite phone from Phoebe. "Hello?
Bob? You're still there, thank God!" She was amazed her executive producer had
survived leaving Atlanta.

Phoebe listened as Maria negotiated putting
Margaret on the air with her predictions. As Maria argued over why a psychic
should be heard, Phoebe watched Margaret talking softly to Zack. What was with
this woman? Why were they here listening to her? She couldn't be the real deal,
could she?

But she seemed so sure of what she was telling
them. Phoebe couldn't let herself think for too long about so many disasters
happening. If she did, she'd start screaming and never stop. Dryly, she thought
to herself it was probably good they kept giving her valium. At least with that
she could pretend to be calm. How was it possible that her home, her perfectly
neat and organized apartment was now just blown away in a hurricane? She couldn't
bear to think of all her belongings strewn about, all over the streets
probably, getting all dirty in the mud, all her CDs and videos and books out of
alphabetical order, her pristine white sheets grimy in the rain and debris, her
clothes, oh my god, all the clothes all wrinkled and filthy and torn, and her
dishes chipped and broken and smashed and her shoes with heels broken off and
the leather scuffed up and the straps ripped off and--

"Phoebe?" Margaret was suddenly standing in
front of her. "Phoebe, don't think about it right now. Here." Margaret picked
up Cleo and placed her in Phoebe's lap. "Pet her–that's it, just stroke her
gently and keep doing that."

As Margaret returned to the corner with Zack, he
quirked an eyebrow up in question. Margaret motioned him to the hallway talk
quietly. "What's her story?" she asked.

"I only found out when we left Atlanta. She's
been Maria's assistant forever, but I guess she has OCD--you know,
obsessive-compulsive disorder--and this has totally thrown her for a loop. We've
had to keep her on Valium to keep her calmed down."

"Oh, no, that's going to be a problem," Margaret
said, running her hands through waves of red hair.

"Why?" asked Zack. "And how did you know to go
over to her just now? Why give her the cat?"

"Oh, that. Cleo could sense she was in distress.
Cleo let me know. I went over there to talk to her. Simple."

"Yeah, right. Simple. You do get that this is
strange, don't you?"

"I've had more time to get used to it, Zack. The
animals seem to be able to sense things about humans now--or maybe they always
did and we are only now finding out about it since we can communicate with
them. Cleo can generate some feeling of calm in Phoebe as long as Phoebe is
touching her. And I don't know if they've always been able to do that, either.
There's still a lot I don't know."

"So are we all, all of us humans, going to
become Dr. Doolittles? Will we all be able to talk to the animals?" Zack
inquired.

"Hmm, a good question. You've already figured
something out, haven't you? Or noticed it, that not everyone is having the
dreams. Or that not everyone is remembering the dreams. So you're on the right
track. I don't think everyone will be able to talk to the animals either. And
don't ask me how that gets determined because I just don't know."

"That idiot!" Maria exclaimed as she came up to
them. "He says there are too many top news stories for me to be out here doing
a feature on some psychic! Then he ordered me to leave here and go cover the
hurricane. Although how he thinks I'm going to even get close to that area, I
have no idea. It's all one big mess in the Southeast right now."

Margaret sounded resigned to the defeat as she
said, "So that's that. No warnings for people. More death. I was afraid of
this. Still, there is a way perhaps."

Salmon Creek, Idaho

"Of course, back then, people didn't really have
a clue about what was going on. Then there was that news report that Miss Maria
did that blew it all out of the water. Man, was that something! Musta been
because things were all crazy, so much happening, that they didn't just yank
her off the air. They said they were gonna go live to her with the hurricane,
and then there she was, standing in a friggin' desert! And she's talkin' kinda
fast, like maybe she knew they weren't gonna be too happy with what she had to
say.

"She starts out by saying right up front that the Mississippi is gonna
flood. And that nobody in the government is gonna tell us the truth, but that
it's true that the flood is really gonna happen so all the people living 'round
there better pack up and skedaddle right quick. Then she brings this woman into
the picture--well, yeah, sure we all know who she is
now
, but back then,
like I said, we didn't have a clue. I remember thinkin' she was damn pretty,
but kinda serious. And when she starts telling us how all these things, these
here disasters, they're all connected. Well, hoo boy! That gets your attention.
But when she starts talkin' about the dreams. Well, my Gladys she just lets out
a little yelp, she gets so excited. And when she said the dreams were--what'd
she call 'em? Oh yeah, 'portents,' that's what she said, of things to come.
That we had better all pay attention to the dreams cause they was comin' true
now, no matter what anybody said.

"Of course, she prob'ly shouldn't have started
talkin' about listening to what the animals told us, prob'ly lost a few people
then, 'cause who would have believed it back then? Still, I'd guess Miss Maria
and Margaret, I guess they prob'ly saved some people from that flood. But my
Gladys, she believed it all, on account of her dreams, thank the lord she had
those dreams, and we'd already got ourselves out of Atlanta and here to Idaho
to her sister's place before that hurricane hit. And me, never been out of the
city my whole life, you can just imagine how much I liked that idea! But I
guess it was a good idea, after all, with what came. You had to feel bad for
those people who just didn't listen tho'--they were outta luck."

Cape Fair, the Samuels' House

John opened the door to the house, ushering in
Gracie and Rachel. He couldn't believe how his mom never seemed to age. Still
the same Gracie, frosted hair perfectly in place, make-up done so skillfully
you could hardly notice it. Rachel, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly strung
out and exhausted. He wondered how much of that came from dealing with
traveling with Gracie halfway across the country and how much was job stress.
Well, he thought, no more job stress for Rachel, even if she didn't know it
yet. He and Jessica had decided the night before that he wouldn't tell the
newcomers to their community anything until Mrs. Philpott and Perceval could be
there. That ought to be a doozy of a meeting! Of the two of them, he had a
feeling that Rachel would take it the hardest. For all her quirks, Gracie
always seemed to him to have a foundation deep within her of calm.

"So where is everybody? I want to see my
granddaughter!" Gracie demanded.

John grabbed a note off a table in the foyer
that said Jessica was out shopping for supplies. "Looks like they're out right
now, Gracie, probably getting stuff for dinner."

Rachel wandered into the den and stopped short. "Uh,
John? What the heck are you guys doing here?"

John walked quickly into the room and saw boxes
of canning jars, canned food, and medical supplies stacked up along one wall.
He groaned. A note fluttered from the side of one of the boxes, taped on and
covered in Harmony's sprawling script.

"No more room in the shed. Max and I are going
out for more. Find me some storage space!"

Gracie was examining the canning supplies. "Good
quality jars and lids. Is Jessica getting into canning from her garden?"

John looked at her quizzically. "And just how
would you know if they were good quality jars? Since when have you ever had
anything to do with putting up vegetables?"

"Oh, you know," Gracie said vaguely, "I read a
lot. Know a lot of trivia."

Rachel said, "John, you've got enough canned
food for an army here! And medical supplies--is Sam still ill? I thought she was
well."

John muttered under his breath, "I wish we had
enough for an army!" Then he said, "No, no, Sam is fine, doing great. These
things are just...just...well, they're part of something we're going to talk to you
about tonight. After Jessica's parents get here."

Gracie whirled around to stare at him. "John!
Jessica's parents are coming too? What in the world is going on here?"

"Look, guys, I promise we'll explain everything.
But for now, why don't you go unpack and just chill out, okay?" As he shooed
them from the room, John thought Rachel looked more like she was going to boil
over, but he got them occupied and then called Mrs. Philpott.

"They're here and already asking questions," he
began without preamble as soon as she answered.

"Well, put them off!" she said, exasperated. "I've
got my hands full right now with Sam and Harry and Perceval and--oh, by the way,
you probably should know that Jessica asked Max to live with you guys."

"She what?" John asked, incredulous.

"She said you had room, although you are going
to have a full house with your relatives and hers, but we both thought it was
important for Max to be near Sam and Harry. And I'm more convinced of it now
since talking to Sam."

"Just what is going on over there, Mrs. P?" John
was starting to feel alarmed, and then almost started to laugh at that thought.
What wasn't alarming these days?

"An interesting conversation that I have to get
back to now, so I'll see you later after Jessica's parents get here. Bye for
now," and John heard the phone click as she hung up.

An interesting conversation? These days, with
Samantha and Harry and Perceval in the mix, there was no telling what the
conversation was about. But, he thought grimly, it was probably not good, not
good at all.

He wandered into the kitchen and nabbed some
pecan-chocolate chip cookies from a container on the counter. Munching the
delectable snack, he tried to think calmly about Samantha. But it was hard. She's
just a little girl, he thought. Yet what Jessica had told him of Sam knowing so
much about what was coming, the incident the other day when she 'went somewhere
else'--how to protect her from that? And is it even possible?

If he tried to be
objective, he'd have to say that Samantha had changed over the past few weeks.
There were times when she seemed so much older than she was, yet other times
when she acted just like a normal little kid.
But she's not normal anymore, is
she? Jessica was right, we have to protect her as much as possible, but how
do we do that when our little girl seems to know more about what is happening
in the world than anyone else? Well, except maybe for Perceval. We'll just
have to rely more on Perceval
, he thought and then had to grin. It would take a
while for all this to seem normal, if it ever would. He sometimes wished he had
the connection to Harry that Sam did, but he thought if he had that connection,
he'd remember more of the dreams. He shuddered just thinking about the bits of
the dreams he could remember. How in hell was Samantha able to tolerate those
dreams?
How do we keep her from going crazy from the dreams? Yet, she
seems okay, she doesn't seem depressed, so maybe she can handle it. And what
does that mean, if she can handle it? That she's changed somehow...not the same
little girl anymore. But she's still
my
little girl
, he thought
fiercely, and suddenly realized that his fear was of losing her to this--this
thing that was changing her. "Yeah," he said aloud. "Not so much fun living a
science fiction story as it is to make one up."