“Whatever it was, Eddie. The weird chill that runs down your spine when you listen. That was fucked up shit and he liked it. Okay!”
He paused again as I anxiously waited for a response. “Ten grand. He’s nuts! That tape alone is ten. Dobson’s is fifty, got it! I want fifty! Fifty!”
“Calm down. I don’t like you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like a mad man. I’ll take care of it.”
“Then take care of it. I mailed proof, living proof. I’m not crazy! I got Annette Dobson giving birth to the baby Jesus and I want my money! I want my daughter! I want my fucking life back!”
That got me. “Your money?” I told Eddie… “Or our money?”
“What’s it matter? You spend it all anyway!”
“Asshole!” I yelled back at him! I guess that got to Eddie, because in a calmer breath he replied, “I’m sorry. I’m wound up. I don’t feel good. So just listen, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Eddie said softly, before continuing in a stern voice. “Everything is on the hard drive I mailed to you. My audio, my video recordings, my journals. Some files from the institution. Take them to Carl as soon as you get them. I’ll brief him. Whatever you do, don’t let him copy these files.”
“What?”
“The files, Mel. Don’t let him take anything or copy anything, until you get a check from him. Got it?”
“Yes,” I told Eddie, trying to pay close attention to his instructions.
“Good. Now only copy the files I marked green. The name of file on the drive, is highlighted green, when you look at it. Green for go! Red means stop. Don’t copy that. Got it. Like a traffic light. Remember. Green go! Red stop. Green go. Red stop! Green…”
“I’m not an idiot!”
“I need to be clear baby,” Eddie said sternly and with precision. “Only the green files! The rest, the red files, put together the way I showed you in the book. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I told him, sensing some relief at the other end of the line.
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Eddie… I do,” I told him, trying to break this tension.
“I love you too,” he said. And I felt it was true, this time. Something in his voice cracked a little when he said it. “When are you coming home?” I asked.
“Friday… Maybe.”
“Maybe. Eddie, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Something’s gnawing at me to come now.”
“Then come. Come now!” I begged.
“These roads suck at night. They twist, they freeze. You can’t see shit. It’s not safe. I’ve got to wait ‘til morning,” he told me hesitantly.
“Please be safe.”
“I will. I got to go. I need to call Carl and straighten this shit out. I’ll talk to you later, okay.”
“Tomorrow,” I told him. “Then come home. Okay.”
“Okay,” Eddie said, then he said, “Bye.”
“Bye. Love you,” I told him again, to make sure he felt it.
“Me too baby.”
That was it. He hung up and I knew we had work to do. Eddie was on to something, and all I could do now was follow his instruction, and pray that he make it back to me alive.
JOURNAL/VIDEO LOG:
TUESDAY DECEMBER 14 2010 - 7:14 PM
I’m back inside the diner, awaiting fate, devising a plan, as night falls. Hunters have been heading out while I was on the phone, leaving trails of blood and dust as they screeched out to the ever-darkening roads. I’m sure I may see them, in front of their cabins tonight, under the moonlight with flashlights, or by campfires with knives sharpened and the axes ground, waiting to crush through bones, and gut out the innocent deer that thought he’d take a stroll and enjoy his day. Little did he know, it would be his last! How ironic. With death set before me, what am I walking into?
If the mouths of babes and the crazed ring true, then demons are hunting me down, systematically using people as weapons to fire words into my psyche, opening doors into my soul, to use as an entrance. Like an alien army, they assume their positions and organize their takeover of me.
To the Reverend Billings this is a unique spiritual species, highly evolved and organized in function and cause, slowly stripping me of self-control, then using me as a host to commit their crimes against humanity.
Every face I now look at beckons me to ponder how much control the demons have. The slaughtering mob around me, could they kill humans as easily as they split open deer? Is their conscience unknowingly seared by the mind of an alien race, hell bent on destruction?
And how can Annette Dobson the worst of humanity be free from her tormentors and no longer fathom this evil?
Billings claims she’s filled with a spiritual enlightenment, so powerful that her mind and soul are now purified and protected against invasion. And her baby, Kevin, born free into a wild, untamed world. What is he carrying or burying within his soul? Or as Reverend Billings told me, his blood line!
Billings’ words rise to the surface of my brain. He said the importance of Dobson’s exorcism was to purify her family bloodline, with the blood of Christ. This is Billings take, not mine. He believes that curses, even demons can pass through the bloodlines to infect up to four generations of a person’s lineage. ‘This is biblical fact,’ he emphatically stated to me. Something Jesus said and Billings quoted.
Like I said, I’m no Jesus groupie. I’m a reporter. And my job is to put together facts, hear all sides of the issue, and go deeper to find motive, truth and method.
Which brings me back to blood. Staring at bloody boots and stained camouflage pants, I can’t help but think of blood. I ask myself, could a demon invade my blood?
Microorganisms live in blood. Viruses. Bacteria, fungi, even parasites. They can all survive in blood. So what is a demon? What’s he made of? Can he really infect my blood?
Is this why they wanted blood tests from me? They took my blood. Could they have injected something into my blood to infect me? All those vaccinations. What was in those needles?
Fuck! Fuck!
I took that heart test too. I had an IV in me. They shot me up with some shit in a blue container that burned right through me. The nurse said it was nuclear medicine, so they could see my heart with the camera. What if she was lying? That stuff burned inside me. Maybe that was why Tyler ate his arm off? Who knows?
I could be a guinea pig. Infected with something while they sit and quietly observe my fate. The late night chills, upset stomach, headaches, my nerves! What’s happening to me? Even my phone ringing, runs through my body, like a freight train!
Every noise sends vibrations through me, keeping me on edge, like an animal alerted by its senses to the coming storm.
This storm that’s now ringing is Carl. I left him a message earlier.
I’m stepping back out to take this call. This time I’m going to tape him so he can’t swindle me out of my money.
AUDIO LOG:
TUESDAY DECEMBER 14, 2010 – 8:06 PM
“
Hey Carl,” I answered.
“Hey partner.”
“You get my message?”
“Yeah. Let’s talk.”
“Yeah. Let’s,” I told Carl. “You said fifty grand if I proved Dobson was here. Why’d you tell Mel, ten?”
“I didn’t?”
“You didn’t, what? Say ten.”
“Yeah, I said ten. Ten for what you got.”
“You mean what she showed you or what I got?
“What do you have, Eddie?”
“Proof that Annette Dobson’s here, just like I said. I got a video interview and footage of her giving birth.”
“You’re kidding me,” Carl excitedly answered.
“Not kidding, my friend. I sent it to Mel today, along with case files I took from the mad doctor running this loony bin.”
“Beautiful. What else?” Carl asked.
“What else?” I said, in shock. “What do you mean, what else? That ain’t enough! You want more? I got more! It’s everything I said was here plus Timmy Tyler to boot.”
“Don’t lie!”
“I’m not.” I told Carl. “I’m dead serious. He was on that tape Mel played for you.”
“That shit spooked me. What the hell was it?”
“Some kind of hypnotherapy session, mind games. Demon control. I don’t know. Crazy shit goes on here. They experiment on inmates. My guess is for pharmaceutical companies or some kind of bio-drug. Maybe bio-weapons to induce fear.”
“Keep going,” Carl told me. ” Anything substantiated?”
“Tyler told me he was framed for trying to rat out Dow Lantra about some fear drug, hallucinogen, or something that was going to be put into our food supply. They keep him locked up tight and say he’s possessed by eight demons.”
“What?” Carl inquired.
I continued, “For all intents and purposes, I’m on demon farm. People see demons, act possessed, exhibit multiple personalities. Talk in fucked up languages they don’t speak. It’s big-top business; a dog and pony show for some serious players. I’m thinking the FDA may be letting something slide through as a preservative or additive, with the side effects may include tag.”
“You can’t just make these claims Eddie!” Carl warned me.
“Something big’s going on, Carl. They’re faking deaths and shipping people here. That’s huge, right? They told me their research is protected.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know,” I told him, looking around my surroundings to make sure the Sheriff or some other intruder wasn’t listening in on us. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. The state. The Feds. Private equity investors. The pharms. I don’t know who’s behind this.”
“Can you substantiate any of your claims?” Carl asked.
“I sent files from Dr. Alan Haworth, the boss man running this freak show. I don’t know what’s on them, so look through… I’m risking my life, Carl.”
“You trying to jack up my price?” he laughed.
“No,” I said with a dead serious tone. “What’s it worth if I’m right?”
There was a moment of silence and I knew that Carl was running numbers in his head, so I got quiet and let my words work their way into the equation. He finally came out with, “Two fifty up, against a fifty-fifty split.”
“Alright,” I told him. “Fair enough.”
“You have a best seller, Eddie,” he told me. “I can get us at least a mil for the movie rights. But I need the whole story. Substantiated.”
“Fifty tomorrow. And I’ll have Mel turn over my files.”
“I only got ten, Eddie,” Carl said. I knew he had more.
“Fifty!” I added sternly.
“If it’s what you say, all I can do now is twenty tops. You’ll get another twenty next month. I’m strapped. We’re in a recession.”
“Don’t give me the partly line, Carl. I know you,” I told him. “I want it in writing. And so you know, buddy. I’m recording this. So listen carefully. Do you agree to pay me forty thousand dollars, for my files up to December 14, 2010? Two hundred and fifty thousand up front for substantiated findings that back the claims that I spoke about in this conversation, and a fifty-fifty split of any movie rights or deal we make, with me holding my authorship rights to my story.”
“I agree, it’s a deal,” he told me.
“Shit!”
“What? What?” Carl asked.
“That Sheriff. He’s coming back here again,” I told him. “This guy’s been busting my nuts since I got here. I’m telling you Carl, it’s dangerous. I’m not lying. I’m risking my life.”
“Nothing you haven’t done before Eddie. You always come out with the story. Be smart and Git ‘er done!”
“Twenty tomorrow. You… Git ‘er done,” I said.
“Done deal.”
“Carl. One last thing quick,” I added. “Check Dow Lantra and the FDA. See if anything’s moving through. Dr. Alan Haworth, he testified in Tyler’s trial. See what you can find on him. The other main guys are Dr. Mark Prescott and Reverend William H. Billings. Dig in. See if there’s anything I missed. Please. I got to run.”
“Will do! Get me that story.”
“You got it… Bye!”
“Up against the car,” were the next words I heard as the Sheriff approached me with his gun pulled. “Give me your phone now.”
WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 15, 2010
JOURNAL ENTRY:
WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 15, 2010 – 1:41 AM
Dell City is no longer a safe zone. And much like every other lesson I learned in life, I found out the hard way. Uphir is at a very strategic location, handpicked to avoid people like me, and dispose of them, if necessary. My biggest mistake was not planning an emergency exit strategy, in case I ran into trouble in Dell City.
The next closest city is Sierra Blanca, Texas, a literal sewage dump of about five hundred people, 70 miles south of here. Then it’s over a hundred miles to either El Paso or Carlsbad, New Mexico depending if I trail east or west when I get back to Route 180. Everything on the road to Carlsbad is National Forest. And with most of these dirt roads off the grid, I’ve never been able to fully track my bearings. All I know is that Uphir is tucked in somewhere near the Guadalupe Mountains. I’m not even sure if I’m in New Mexico or Texas.