House of Cabal Volume One: Eden (19 page)

“Time travel?”

“Not exactly. One theory postulates that we
slip into a parallel dimension similar to our own.”

“That’s science fiction.”

“Who cares what they think might be
happening? All that’s theoretical. We’ve experienced it for
ourselves. After we explore my past using the link and discover the
secrets of the estate, you’ll write the book. Rod will pass away,
and the biography will be published. My connection to the estate
will be severed.”

“It’s my gift,” Rod said.

“The public will think I’m dead.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re doing this
so you can fake your own death? All so you can avoid the media
spotlight? Even if I ignore the transubstantiation stuff, none of
this makes any sense.”

“You’ll have my memory. You’ll have a life
worth telling, and Rod will be my dead body. The estate and its
secrets will no longer be my burden.”

Rod leaned forward over the table. “Everett
isn’t selfish! He’s doing this to help the world. He—”

“Stop. Chuck is right. I’m doing this to
disappear. This is just too freaking big for one person. I don’t
age. Take a moment to understand what that means. If the government
or some other organization found out… They would perform tests,
keep me locked up, maybe worse. When the truth of the estate is
revealed to the world, I can only assume it will cause a
revolution. Unless I take steps to separate myself from that
revolution before it starts, my life will be consumed by it.”

“Then why reveal yourself to me?”

Rod laughed dryly. “That’s a good
question.”

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice. You
discovered Rod’s identity on your own by staying in the regression.
We were supposed to wake up and skip that part, but you kept us
under somehow. But I think it’s for the best, I really do. I can
trust you. People say you only care about writing bestsellers,
about making money. That’s not what I’ve seen. You were there for
me. I picked you because you could handle the media circus once all
this becomes public, but you’re more than that now. You will do
what you think is right; I just need to let you in on all our
plans.”

While Everett talked, Chuck was distracted by
the young man’s beauty. In the Trinity Link, it was easy to pretend
Everett was some idealized version of reality, but here he was,
standing in front of him in real life. It wasn’t fantasy. Some of
what Everett was saying had to be true.

Chuck shook his head. “This is insane. You
haven’t aged a day.”

“I know this is hard to process. I’m asking a
lot. I had years taking all this in. Piecing it all together. Come
with me. Maybe this will help. If you don’t want to go down to the
lab, I can show you something else.”

V

Rod was obviously exhausted. He took more
pills and put a wet hand towel to his forehead. They left him to
rest.

Chuck checked his phone. Oddly, Meredith
hadn’t called. He called her and no one answered.

“The main thing you need to understand is the
white bug. The House of Cabal discovered an insect believed to be a
remnant of the Garden of Eden.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Very serious.”

“I thought you said the Trinity Link wasn’t
religious.”

“The bugs contain a substance called The
Antioxidant. It slows down the aging process and cures illness,
among other, stranger properties. I wish I had more to go on than
their damn research notes, but from what I understand, there were
actually two bugs genetically combined in the lab, one found in the
Brazilian rainforest, the other in an Iraqi desert. They were
raised in the same orange grove you drove through to get here. In
fact they’re still there in the oranges, hiding in plain sight.
They clear up the skin, aid in muscle growth, rev up the libido,
all sorts of benefits. Just think of what that could mean for the
world. And that’s just the white bug.”

As they talked, they made their way down
musty hallways and through a series of progressively larger rooms
until they reached a part of the mansion Chuck hadn’t seen before:
a private library with rows and rows of empty bookshelves.

“And Rod knows about this? Couldn’t he just
go down to the orchard right now and cure himself?”

“He could. But he won’t.”

“Why not?”

Everett wandered up and down the aisles of
the empty library as if he were searching for something.

Chuck ran a finger along a shelf and blew the
accumulated dust from his finger.

After a few moments of thought, Everett spoke
again. “Rod has made peace with death. And a person can’t be the
conduit if they have The Antioxidant in their system. There has to
be an anchor, or the Trinity Link won’t work. Besides, there are
side effects.”

“If even half of what you’re saying about the
bug is true, that’s amazing, to put it mildly, but what are we
doing here? What did you want to show me?”

They headed up a narrow flight of stairs
tucked away at the back of the room. “More testing is needed. You
understand? It’s all experimental. Much of it could have horrible
consequences.”

The second floor was even emptier than the
first, besides a spider infestation worse than in the interrogation
room. Chuck wondered why they had come upstairs at all. Webbing
covered everything. How was this better than going down into the
laboratory?

“Don’t get near the walls. The spiders aren’t
dangerous. But just be careful. They might have been affected by
the Trinity Link.”

“So you’ve been eating bugs? The ones in the
orchard?”

“I use a refined version, yes. It’s derived
from the bugs, but it’s not the same.”

“But if someone eats the bugs, will they
really live forever?”

They entered a long rectangular room with a
high ceiling and expansive windows facing north. Construction of
the room seemed to have been abandoned mid-project. Naked light
bulbs hung from cords, the studs in the walls were exposed, and
sections of plaster littered the floor. Webs coated everything here
too, though there were few spiders.

“Lane and Kyle. They’ve been living off the
bugs for years. They haven’t aged either. They have a shack out in
the orchard. But I suggest you let them be.”

“You said the conduit can’t have the bug in
their system. How about me? What about the witness?”

Everett seemed to ignore the question. “When
it’s light outside, you can see the red brick road from here, the
one that leads up to the estate. The estate is gone now of course,
fallen into the ocean, but I have to stay here so I remember what
happened.” Everett put a fist to his chest and made a slight cough
from the dust.

“What do you mean?”

Everett coughed harder, this time into his
hand. “The Antioxidant affects my relationship to time. I don’t
age. But I also don’t process memory like a normal person.
Traumatic memories no longer register properly. It’s like my brain
is trying to protect itself from accumulating too many bad
memories. Lane and Kyle’s symptoms are even worse than mine. They
hardly remember anything about what happened.”

“I saw pictures. There were bodies washing up
on the shore for months. What happened? Or should I wait to see it
for myself in the regression?”

“I’m actually not sure what happened. I mean
I saw it, but I’m not sure what caused it. I decided I had to
leave. The estate was too much. They knew things about me, things
no one could possibly know. Anyway, I wanted one last look and so I
climbed up onto this bluff. I saw the House of Cabal collapse and
fall into the ocean. Hundreds of people died. I think my leaving
might have triggered it somehow. But there was something more. You
won’t believe it, not unless I show you. You have to see it for
yourself.”

Chuck grabbed Everett’s far shoulder and
turned him so that they faced each other. “I’m sorry you had to see
all that, but I should go soon. My wife will be worried as it is.
She’s not answering her phone.” He wanted out of the house, away
from this insanity, if only until he regained his footing.

“Try her again.”

“Okay. Just a second.” He called his wife
again. “Still no answer.”

Everett nodded and led Chuck back down the
stairs.

“The Trinity Link is a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity to explore the timeline.”

Chuck agreed but remained quiet, wanting
Everett to keep explaining.

“We’re going to use the regressions to find
the truth. The more we use the Trinity Link, the more autonomy you
seem to get. I need answers. There is so much I still don’t know
about the estate. With your added influence…” He trailed off, lost
in the memory of the estate’s destruction.

Chuck collected his tapes off the table,
stuffed everything into their carrying case, and then grabbed his
other belongings from near the front door. “There is something to
the regressions, the Trinity Link, whatever—it’s not just you
making stuff up—but I can’t promise I’m coming back, not until I
talk to my wife. I’ll contact you soon.”

Chuck hurried out to his car, fearing that if
he didn’t leave now, Everett would never let him go.

Everett followed, but at a distance, as if
afraid to leave the shelter of the building. “Chuck! This book will
change history. This biography! You can’t run away from this.”

“I’ll call you.”

Chuck slammed the door, pulled away, and
watched Everett dwindle in the rearview mirror. Everett was still
so young, and he was likely the most beautiful man Chuck had ever
seen. It scared him. Such perfection was unnatural, like Everett
had made a deal with the Devil. At that moment a Faustian bargain
didn’t seem that far-fetched.

Maybe the knowledge discovered by the House
of Cabal was a Pandora’s Box that shouldn’t be opened.

On Chuck’s left, the Pacific Ocean reflected
silver clouds. It was the middle of the night and it seemed odd how
bright they were. A surfboard leaned against an old shed on the
beach. Lane and Kyle were said to live close by in the orchard.
Chuck wondered if the surfboard was theirs. He rolled his window
down so he could breathe again. Those spiders! His skin still
crawled. He shivered. He feared some had stowed away in the
backseat but quickly realized he was being paranoid.

The spiders reminded him of something that he
had subconsciously tried to forget. A cold sweat broke out as he
remembered my alien visage from the regression. He had a vague
memory of my cloak and my many arms, but what he remembered clearly
was the way my two pupils had changed into four. He remembered my
clockwork-like eyes very well indeed.

Chuck’s impulse to scream took more than a
few moments to pass.

Despite the darkness and the roadblock up
ahead, he could still see the line of the road as it continued
north and rounded its way up the cliffside. The next regression
would take Chuck up that road, back in time, before the fall.

He turned right, the way he had come that
morning, and drove down the narrow road through the grassy flat and
into the orchard that separated the shore from the highway.

After a few minutes of winding through the
grotesque trees and smashing oranges under his tires, he came to a
slow stop. How could he just pass through the orchard when he knew
what waited inside the oranges?

The smell of rot was less pungent at night
but still strong. He turned off the engine, leaving the buzz of
insects to fill the silence.

Too scared to get out of his car, the orchard
a dark twisted unknown, he unbuckled his seatbelt, reached out the
window, and grabbed a low-hanging orange just within reach. The
skin felt warm, like inside burned a tiny fire. He breathed in the
citrus smell.

“Pinsleep? Are you still watching? If you
are, I want you to know I’ll do it.” He felt chosen and sanctified.
I scared him, but of course an angel of God would be frightening.
“I’ll help you find out what happened at the House of Cabal.”

He peeled the orange and felt the bugs
scramble inside. They were his anointment and reward. He leaned out
the window, resting his gut on the door, and held the orange out
over the ground.

He broke the orange in half.

A mass of opalescent bugs swarmed out onto
his hands, while others spilled onto the brick. They were tiny, yet
they could grant him immortality. All he had to do was eat.

Soon the whole world would know their
miracle. He might as well be one of the first to partake.

He put as many of them as he could into his
mouth. They tasted like sunflower seeds. He thought they would make
him gag, but after mashing them between his teeth, they went down
easily.

He brushed off his face and hands and any
that still clung to his shirt sleeves, and pulled himself back into
the car. He looked at himself in the mirror and made sure none had
infested his beard. It was best to start out with a conservative
amount. He examined the crow’s feet around his squinty eyes. Would
those wrinkles go away? If the bugs actually worked, he doubted it
would take a large quantity. After all, if he consumed too many,
they might cause the side effects Everett had warned him about.

If he was going to live forever, was
forgetting trauma really such a bad thing? It sounded more like a
benefit. There were already quite a few things he had experienced
in his life that he wouldn’t mind forgetting.

He never liked to admit it to himself, but
his father’s death made him worry about his own mortality all the
time. Cliché maybe, but it didn’t make it any less true. Sudden
heart failure killed even successful people. He wasn’t going to go
out that way if he could help it. And especially not before
releasing this next book. This one would eclipse anything he had
written before. Meredith would finally understand why he worked so
relentlessly.

“Pinsleep, I’ll do it. I’ll show you what man
has hidden from God.” It sounded like something a prophet would
say.