“Honey, this is a silver dollar.”
“I found it in the sand!” Alanis squealed. “Look! There’s more!” Alanis knelt down and with both hands grabbed up a double fistful of the silver dollars and held them out to Michelle. “Sand dollars! Sand dollars!”
Michelle looked at the fistfuls of silver dollars in Alanis’s hands and then down at the hole in the sand she’d found them in and saw more of them spilling out. She could see little tremors in the sand as more silver dollars burrowed their way up. It looked like thousands of tiny sand crabs were digging their way out. More silver dollars burbled up from the hole from where Alanis had dug the initial handful. It looked like they were spewing from the earth. “Honey, those are silver dollars.”
“Sand dollars!” Alanis said, and Michelle felt her spine chill at the sight of her daughter’s face as she threw the silver dollars up and scooped another handful out of the sand and threw them into the air. Alanis’s eyes were blank muddy pits devoid of emotion, possessed by a singular greedy purpose now. “Sand dollars, sand dollars, sand dollars, dollars dollars dollars!” Alanis grabbed up huge fistfuls of the silver dollars and threw them in the air again and again, and Michelle felt terror strike her heart and the sight of her little girl’s face so drastically changed propelled her to flee and she did, she lunged out of the hammock and fell into the sand and the impact of the gritty sand hitting her bare knees jarred her—
—awake.
Michelle started and opened her eyes.
She was still in the immersion room. She was panting, her heart racing.
The smell of jasmine and the soothing atmosphere still enveloped her, seeming to cover her. The skin along her arms prickled, as if being tickled by tiny hairs. Likewise, the skin along her scalp and the inside of her legs tickled. She shook her head to clear it and when she moved she felt the feathery sensation along her arms burn slightly, as if a bandage had been ripped off suddenly. This feeling happened everywhere, all along her body. Her vision swam, blurred, then focused as she sat up abruptly. She felt her stomach lurch and for a moment she was dizzy. She controlled her breathing and closed her eyes, getting control of herself. When she felt the pleasant sensation seep back and her vertigo return to normal, she shook her head again and opened her eyes, her vision swimming briefly and then coming back into focus. This time she remained seated on the cot, waiting to feel some sense of normalcy.
Jesus, what’s going on? What’s happening to me?
She looked around the room. Everything looked normal. The soothing, dark blue lights still cast their relaxing shade. The atmosphere was still pleasing. The music still played softly in the background. The smell of jasmine was still in the air.
She still felt the feathers of sensation prickle along her arms, inside her pant suit legs, tickling her inner thighs and calves, snaking into her blouse and tickling her breasts, her belly, felt them caress her scalp.
She swung her legs over the cot and stood up suddenly and once again she felt that sensation of burning, as if tiny hairs were being suddenly yanked from her skin where the feathery sensations had been. Her heart thudded, understanding suddenly flooding her senses.
Immersion.
She was at the door to the room in an instant, ear pressed against it, trying to listen for any sounds outside. It was hard to listen with the music playing softly in the background. She waited for the sound of footsteps, for somebody to check on her, to see why she’d gotten up and interrupted the immersion process. She waited for two minutes; surely somebody, Linda or Sam, would have come down as quickly as possible. Nobody was coming, though. She was alone down here. For some reason they weren’t monitoring her the way she’d thought they would. She looked at the device bolted into the wall. It resembled a common room temperature station with various LED panels and knobs. She didn’t know what they meant and she didn’t care. She was getting out of here now.
She went back to the cot and opened the briefcase quickly and brought one of the explosive devices out. She placed it underneath the cot, closed the briefcase, then grabbed her purse and went back to the door. She tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.
She eased the door open and peaked outside.
The hallway was empty.
Nobody came from the lobby to investigate the newly opened door to the immersion room. Likewise she heard no alarms, saw no flashing lights that would indicate she’d triggered an alarm.
Holding her breath, she eased out of the room and closed the door softly. Then she stepped slowly into the lobby.
The receptionist desk was still empty.
This was her chance. Her best bet was to dart back down the hallway, plant another explosive or two in one of the other rooms, then plant one at the reception desk itself and get the hell out of there. She checked her watch quickly. It was two-thirty; Rachel didn’t have to wake her up. She wondered where Alan was now as she headed back down the hallway, preparing to leave one of the explosive devices in one of the other rooms. She had no idea if anybody else was in one of these rooms but if they were, they were probably under the intoxicating influence of Corporate Financial. They wouldn’t be shaken out of their trance.
She approached the first door she came to on her right and put her ear to it, trying to listen for any sounds within. Hearing nothing, she turned the doorknob and opened the door slowly.
Like the immersion room she’d just come out of, this room was bathed in a soft florescent blue light. The music and the relaxing atmosphere was present, and as Michelle stepped further into the room she saw a prone figure lying on the cot in the middle of the room. What appeared to be thick strands of webbing were attached to the figure, like strands of corn silk. They were attached to something beneath the cot, enveloping the figure completely. Another new Corporate Financial consultant? Curious, she stepped forward cautiously and took a quick peek.
She suppressed a gasp as she saw her mother lying on the cot.
When her mother shuddered, moaned, and opened her eyes it took every ounce of Michelle’s will-power to bite back the scream that threatened to unleash from her throat.
WHEN THEY REACHED the basement Mark Hodges and Bob Gutenberg herded Alan Perkins down a hallway. Debbie White trailed along behind them, still clutching the explosive device. They paused in front of a door in the middle of the hallway and Mark opened it with a key. Bob shoved Alan through the door and they followed him inside.
Alan took everything in quickly. The room was small and contained a desk and two chairs. The lighting was dim, but Bob flicked a switch and turned up the brightness in the room. Mark closed the door behind him. The three of them fixed Alan with those uneasy, blank stares.
Alan still tried to play dumb. “Will you explain to me what is going on here?”
“Where did you get these?” Debbie asked, holding up the explosive device.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mark took the device from Debbie and turned it over in his hands. He appeared to be studying it. He fiddled with it and quickly got the lid off, displaying the batteries, the detonating device, and the C4. He held it up to Alan. “How many of these did you plant in the data center?”
“I didn’t put that in the data center,” Alan said. He knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but damned if he was going to say anything to them.
“How many of these did you place in the building?” Debbie asked.
“I didn’t place any in—”
“There were three left in your briefcase,” Bob said. “My guess is it was full of these things before we caught you. You obviously planted a bunch of these throughout the building. Where?”