Awakening: A Novel of Aliens and Consciousness by Stephan A. Schwartz

Author:Stephan A. Schwartz [Schwartz, Stephan A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780976853626
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Stephan A. Schwartz
Published: 2023-02-04T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Okay. This is where I leave you,” Rachel said.

We waited until there were no cars to be seen, lifted the bikes over the guard rail and pushed them through the woods back into the trees quite a way. We disassembled both of them, wrapped them in two of the ponchos and buried them. Those Koga-Miyata had cost me $1800 each and I hated to lose them, but there was no other option I could see. I noted the location though, and blazed the most prominent tree. I had noted the mile marker on the road and could get back to the bikes. But I wondered if I ever would.

As we were doing a final packing, Mike picked up one of the backpacks with one hand, and I suddenly realized that he was much stronger than he looked.

As soon as I thought it, he said, “My planet is larger than Earth, with much stronger gravity. My muscles developed in that world.”

As we were removing any sign we had been there, I think for the first time we openly acknowledged what we had not really yet discussed. Where were we going? Again, Mike provided the answer.

“I need to get to Florida, and from there to the Grand Bahamas Banks,” he told us. The request seemed bizarre, but in that moment it gave us a focus to work on, and we left any questions for later.

“You’ll need money,” I told Rachel as she was gathering her kit together, and reached in my pack and took out four of the $20 stacks of bills and handed them to her. She put one in her pocket and the rest in her pack. Rachel was ready to walk out to the road carrying her backpack. We looked at each and then embraced. It was not easy to separate.

She started down the hill, while Mike and I stayed hidden in the trees, positioning ourselves so that we could see the road but not be seen. “I’ll tell them I have been on the river, but my ride stood me up,” she said in our minds as she got to the road. She was only there for about five minutes when a woman driving a pickup went by, stopped, and Rachel got in.

“Remember to talk, Rachel, using your mouth,” Mike said as she pulled away.

After she’d gone I put on my pack and we climbed down the hill to the road, turned right, and started walking to where we could get the canoe. I reminded myself to breathe properly as we got closer, and the chance of discovery amped up my alertness by orders of magnitude.

We turned onto a gravel road that arced in a long sloping curve that took us down to the banks of the Buffalo River. As we came around I could see there was a green board and batten building and attached to it a long, covered but open on the sides, pipe frame shelving structure where canoes were stored. A couple in their 20s were getting into one of them at the little plank mooring that paralleled the river bank.

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