Chapter Forty-Eight: Let's All Show Up for the Party

The fear had begun to subside, but the image of people falling dead right in front of her continued to haunt her thoughts. Chris made it a point to continually remind Sam that there was nothing she could have done to cause the deaths. Strange as it was, it was just a coincidence. The strange behavior of his arm disappearing and reappearing could not be caused by Sam. Out of Guilt, Sam had even told police exactly what happened and confessed to the murders. The police quickly dismissed her story, reassured her that she could not have caused the deaths with her thoughts and encouraged her to seek professional help to help her deal with the stress of the ordeal. They also encouraged her to stay in the area in case they needed to question her further as the investigation continued.

Sam did not want professional help. She did not need one more person calling her “crazy” for thinking the way she did. It made so much sense – how could they not realize it? When Chris’s arm fused to his body it was right after the fight in the diner. Sam wished Chris could have his arm back after seeing how upset he was and then it miraculously happened. It then disappeared as if she had forgotten all about Chris’s situation, but then reappeared when he started to put his arm around her – something she wanted so badly. It all made so much sense – did anyone else have an idea that made more sense?

“C’mon, Sam. I want to take you someplace,” Chris said, taking her by the hand. Sam had helped him so much and he knew that he had to repay the debt. He had left the university that day prepared to take Sam away to start a new life together, but right now she needed a friend, not a relationship.

While Sam was missing, Chris had searched the area over and over while looking for her. His searching led him to many areas that he had not known about previously. Now that he had Sam with him again he was eager to revisit some of these areas that he found particularly interesting. He was drawn particularly to a park not too far from downtown. He was sure that this would help Sam take her mind off things.

They pulled up along-side the curb and parked next to a small lake surrounded by geese and ducks. They had only walked a few feet when a car skidded to a stop next to them. Chris got ready to yell at the crazy driver that had recklessly endangered them, but was startled to see the man jump out of the car and run straight for them. “Excuse me! Are you Samantha Crocker?” he asked with a stark shortness of breath.

“Who are you?” Sam returned without dignifying the stranger with a proper response.

“My name is Dr. Harold Stephan.” Without a confirmation of Sam’s identity, he presumed he had found the person he was looking for and continued, “I’ve had quite a difficult time tracking you.”

“How did you find us here?”

“I've been following you for a while. It's very important that I talk to you. It's very strange that you arrived here at this park.”

“Okay, psycho. Do I need to call the police or are you done stalking me?”

“I just need a moment of your time. I saw the story they published about you in the paper and I think I might have some answers for you.”

“You don't know as much as you think you do, mister. Now, please excuse us.”

“I know that someone is controlling your thoughts,” he finally said to get her attention. It worked because she now looked at him with a more thoughtful expression. “If your willing, can we walk for a moment?” Sam didn't respond verbally, but turned and started walking quietly, ready to hear what it was this man had to say.

“I'm going to make this quick,” Harold began. “I've just learned that a government agency is using my company to run a mind-control program, that I believe you might have been made an unknowing part of. The experiment is tied with warfare strategies, so they tested a sort of remote control murder, if you will. This is what happened when you witnessed the deaths of those two people. I'm afraid you may be in danger, since the test went differently than they expected. The experiment was to cause you to kill the people, but rather you projected the death to them without touching them. You acted as a conduit.”

Sam wanted to walk away from this man, wanting to not believe is story; however, as pathetic as the story sounded, it actually fit in with what she had started to believe on her own anyway.

Harold continued, “You have a power about you that is beyond all explanation. I suspect the agency has stumbled onto a power beyond even their understanding. When we first started experimenting with mind-control and telekinesis we knew that we were venturing someplace we shouldn't. The matter that was manipulated had traces of ectoplasm in it – something only found when dealing with powers beyond those of this world. Using our technology, we were able to minimize the amount of ectoplasm found in the specimens, thinking that we were replacing the supernatural with science. It's becoming clear that we were wrong.”

“I don't understand what this has to do with me,” Sam responded. “If this is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't.”

“I don't think you understand what I'm saying.”

“Then why don't you get to the point,” she said, her patience wearing thin.

“You may be in danger. If you have the power to project your thoughts the way you did, it's likely they'll push the tests further to find answers.”

“If there's someone controlling my thoughts and actions as you suggest, then what can I do about it?”

“That's the interesting part. This area is apparently a safe-haven, in a sense. I received an anonymous call that said that there is an interference here that prevents the agency from controlling or monitoring anyone. I was anxious to find a way to lead you here, but you beat me to it.”

“So, I'm supposed to just stay here? Is that what you're suggesting?”

“No, I'm not sure what to suggest. But if the call I received was accurate, then this place may be the key to blocking them for good.”

“Are you finished?” Sam had heard all she needed to hear and did not have any intention of listening any further. She don't know whether to take this person seriously or not. If she did take him seriously, what could she do about it? It made her mad that she could somehow be unwittingly involved in some sort of top secret government experiment, let alone an experiment that used her to kill others.

“I'm done. Please be careful.” With those words he wandered off in a different direction. Not back to his car, but rather deeper into the park.

Chris had been listening incredulously to the whole conversation, but now found himself wanting to believe, no matter how foolish the story sounded. What troubled him most was that he didn't know how to talk to Sam about it. Should he encourage her to believe what she was told or simply continue to persuade her that all was just coincidence? There was no point in trying to convince her of anything. As Chris was well aware, Sam would make up her own mind with or without him.

Sam was the first to speak after Harold left them. “What do you suppose it is that prevents them from controlling anyone here in this park?” It was clear that Sam had chosen to take Harold's words as reinforcement of what she was already thinking.

“I don't know,” was all Chris could think to say.

Taking a look around the park she could see nothing unusual, but she felt something was amiss. “As long as we're here, we may as well enjoy it, huh?” With that she grabbed Chris by the hand and they resumed their stroll as though nothing had happened. Lately, things had been so bizarre and had happened so fast that they were both becoming desensitized. It was like living in the Twilight Zone, like a continual dream that they would never wake from. Sam thought she should be upset about the murders she had “caused”, but found herself awkwardly complacent. Whether the man earlier had been telling the truth or not, it provided a small sense of comfort to know that she was not really responsible for the deaths. She felt much the same way a gun might feel after shooting someone. Used as a tool, the cause of the death, but the responsibility fell completely on the head of the person holding the weapon.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Chris.” Chris smiled and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

A good part of the day passed and they had all but forgotten their curious situation. They suddenly looked up and noticed a few people who did not quite fit. They weren't picnicking, jogging or visiting any particular monument. They were just loitering. It seemed strange, but not so much that they thought anything of it. It did cause them to return their thoughts to what would happen once they left the park, though.

They sat on a bench overlooking the water and spent the next hour talking about what they might do or whether they should do anything at all. Perhaps they could stay in the park overnight. The nights were comfortable and warm, so this was certainly possible. The strange people lurking about made them uncomfortable, but were they any safer outside the park? It was getting to be late in the evening and the sky was beginning to to turn orange. A cool breeze began to blow across the water, which provided a little relief from the hot sun.

It was while they sat on the bench in the glow of the setting sun that they were approached.