Sunday, April 19, 2009

Hijacking Heaven- Chapter XVI

Graham Sheppard knew he had made a wrong turn. It was evident by the dead end he now found himself facing- a faded orange barricade missing an end piece with the word caution barely legible in peeling white paint. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He studied the map and compared it to the directions Malcolm Buck had given him as the wipers thumped in rhythmic swipes across the windshield. Damn it! They seemed simple enough. Is it starting to work on me? Am I going to end up like the others, losing my fucking mind to some sickness? Running down Malcolm Buck with my stolen police cruiser while he walks right in front of me, oblivious to death?

He shook the map open, its accordion folds bellowing across the dashboard. Quickly he deduced the problem. He had turned left when he should have veered right a mile back at the junction.

Sheppard thrust the map aside onto the passenger seat in a crumpled mass. He jammed the cruiser into reverse. The tires spat gravel as he swung his head to peer out the rear window while he backed up along the unpaved laneway at an alarming speed. He didn’t have time to get lost. Every tick of the clock counted. He had to find the Bradley boy.

Sheppard remembered the first time he had come across the name of William Theodore Bradley. It was long before the boy had earned the moniker of Rabbit, and predated the birth of Graham Sheppard from the mind of the man known as Doctor Robert Forder.

He had been reviewing various environmental effects on pregnant women through hundreds of case studies and had come across one that stood out. A female horticulturist named Diane Bradley who had been exposed for years to chemicals like mecaprop, diacamba and diazanon. She had reported a heightened sensitivity and spirituality during her pregnancy. She claimed she could see a deep blue aura around people who soon after died for one reason or another.

All Forder could find out was; the test subject Diane Bradley, gave birth to a healthy baby boy; seven pounds, two ounces. She died soon after child birth due to complications and the boy, William Theodore Bradley, was being raised by the estranged father Richard Bradley in Coram, Montana. No explanation was given for her condition. Other than a few pages of notes the information seemed rather shallow on scientific theory and all tests had been inconclusive. Since the chemicals in question had all been removed from public consumption, the case had been closed. Forder had just assumed someone had been very sloppy in their research and moved on to the next study.

He had thought nothing more about the case of Diane Bradley until he’d been sent to Texas to investigate the Morgellans outbreak in Trinity. Two children diagnosed with ADD and a young autistic teen of fourteen had miraculously been unaffected by the thread-like liaisons, while the rest of the community were ripping layers off their skin. Yet, the three survivors all made claims of feeling a strange sickness and seeing a blue haze around family members before they took their own lives. The claims had been merely explained as coping mechanisms for the shock of losing family members in such a horrific fashion.

The children had all been relocated and placed with foster families, but when Forder looked into the case further, tracking down the homes, he found no such children living there. In one case, the so-called foster parents had been dead for twelve years- killed in a car accident by a drunk driver and now shared, his-and-hers grave stones. Any evidence of the children from Trinity had vanished.

Back in his life as Dr.Robert Forder He had met with a good friend, Marty Stevenson, a professor of the paranormal and unexplained phenomenon, who was often employed by the government to shed his expertise on the unexplainable. Forder had always admired Marty. He reminded him of what Einstein might be like, if he were living in the new millennium; the crazy white hair with a black sole-patch replacing the push broom moustache and gold hoop-earrings, dangling from both ears. Marty had the Einstein wisdom, the loopy smile and the soft nurturing look from the deep pool of his eyes. He was tall and gangly on the verge of appearing clumsy, but the man was as sharp as any tool in the shed.

Forder remembered the night everything had started to come together as he shared his findings from Trinity with Marty. They had gone up to Stevenson’s cabin in Oregon to do a little fishing and re-energize. Then one evening they had shared cognac by the glowing embers of the fireplace, surrounded by the simple comforts in a structure of logged-wood and had started to discuss Trinity.

Stevenson had sat a long while in silence, choosing his words carefully, before he spoke. “What I’m going to tell you Robert cannot be repeated once you leave here. Not even to your wife.”

Forder felt the cognac start to loosen his muscles in relaxing warmth. “Jesus Marty, you want me to pinky swear?”

“I’m serious Robert” Stevenson looked around nervously as if the walls had ears.

“Fine! OK, whatever you want. I won’t even entrust my dog.”

“Those kids, the ones from Trinity. They weren’t placed in foster care as you already know. But what they never told you, or anyone, was they were moved to three different locations for further testing; Kirkland in New Mexico, Vanderberg Air Force Base in California and the grand daddy, Nellis in Nevada. I mean these kids should have died with everyone else in Trinity Robert. It didn’t make sense.”

“So it wasn’t Morgellons after all.”

“No. It was a man made pathogen, delivered in an airborne toxin. The military was testing various biological weapons at the time for use in future conflicts. They wanted something that would make the North Koreans quake in their boots, but you can imagine the public outcry and panic if it ever got out that this shit was tested on our own people before it got the seal of approval. The fact that there were some immune in the test area, you can imagine, it raised a few eyebrows. I mean this was to be a lethal dose. They were out of answers. That’s when they called me in.”

Forder leaned in. “So what did you find out?”

Stevenson lowered his voice further to barely a whisper. “You ever hear of Indigo Children, Robert?”

“Aren’t they like old souls?”

“Very much so, but it’s more than that. They have a heightened sensitivity to the world around them. They seem to know when things are going to happen. They have an acute awareness and think in ways you and I can’t comprehend. Some believe, Indigo kids will play a significant role in the evolution of humanity. Think about it. It’s such an important time in our history; war; famine; sickness; the verge of economic collapse. We need wise souls to guide us. Keep our heads out of our ass. Some believe it’s possible these children are coming to save the world.”

“Come on Marty, like the second coming? A bunch of unruly little Jesuses.” Forder pushed back into his chair and rolled the cognac around the bowl of his glass.

“Laugh all you want Robert but I’m not trying to pull one over on you here. It may not be a scientific fact yet, but there are others who I will not mention, even here, who are very interested in the Indigos. It makes certain people in power very nervous, you understand? It could upset everything. Years of planning for a one world government, ruled by puppet dictators.”

“Forgive me Marty, but I’ve heard the conspiracy theories before.”

“Believe it my friend. Some, like your missing kids in Trinity, are even more advanced than the Indigos I’ve studied over the past few years. You know, one child- a four-year-old Indigo asked me if I knew who Galileo was. I asked him what he knew about Galileo and you know what he told me?"

“I’m all ears.....and booze.”

“He told me Galileo was a good man and also had a pretty good sense of humour. Liked to comb his beard all the time, but that was a long, long time ago. Now what possessed a child of four to say something like that?”

“Kids have vivid imaginations.”

“Maybe so, but your kids in Trinity also had, high levels of Risveratrol in their system.”

“Like in red wine? So what you’re telling me is the kids were drunks?”

“Robert you’d have to drink ten thousand bottles a day to have levels these kids had. They were off the charts.”

Forder perked up again. “You mean...?”

“That’s right. With levels like that, these kids would live way beyond the normal life span you and I are familiar with. Not only that, but their bodies produced amazing antioxidants to any free radicals they introduced to their systems; Bird Flu, Hemorrhagic Fever, Ebola, Marburg. And get this. They all had three strands of DNA.”

Forder was now excited. “Marty, you have to help me get access to these kids.”

“I can’t.”

“But you have clearance I only dream of. You know the strings to pull.”

“I can’t. They’re dead Robert.”

“What? But you said...”

“...Just because you going to live beyond your years and never get sick doesn’t mean you’re not susceptible to other ways to die. They tried to harvest this fountain of youth from these kids you know. And it was the strangest thing Robert. They were all being studied at different facilities, miles from one another, yet they all died the same night, by swallowing their tongues and choking to death at precisely the same time. Now I ask you, how is that possible? Telepathy? Some sort of subconscious connection with each other? They weren’t even related.”

Forder felt the bubble burst around him like a child that is promised something extraordinary only to have preverbal carrot yanked. He looked at Marty. The fire was dying, casting deep shadows and placing the two men almost in darkness as Marty spoke again. “Something big is coming Robert. They’re going to try to flush out more of this new breed of Indigo. They’ve developed a thirst for what these kids have and will stop at nothing until they have a commodity. Just think of it Robert, a miracle cure and anti-aging vaccine to the highest bidders. Oil, gold,’s all nothing. The future currencies are these hybred Indigos.

No comments: