Chapter 3 – Nothing As It Seems

Thursday night. Catherine's phone pinged with a text from Jax: "We're back but I don't want to discuss this with your husband around. Can you come to my house tomorrow night?"

The exclusion of her own husband from whatever nightmare she was about to enter made Catherine's stomach clench with dread.

Catherine rang the visual doorbell of Jax's house in Noe Valley. It wasn't the typical San Francisco Victorian—Jax had completely renovated the property after he bought it twelve years ago when he was only twenty-five. He was certainly making serious money back then for such a young guy fresh out of college. Jax had an eye for style and fashion, and Catherine sometimes wondered if he was gay—being so fashion-forward, thin, single, and immaculate—but he swore he wasn't. He had no reason to lie to Catherine or his mother, as they were both very accepting and supportive, especially with Drake having come out as a teen.

Catherine felt like she was vibrating with agitation and panic. "Where were you both? What business do you and Drake have together?"

"The short story is I'm doing some coding for him. But the long story I'll save for another day."

"Well, the secrets are certainly flying around here lately. Tell me what's going on, Jax, before I lose my shit."

"You should probably sit down. I made us coffee, but you might want to just go straight for the scotch."

Catherine handed Jax the letter with hands that still trembled slightly. "Yes, I would prefer the scotch. The caffeine might keep me up, and I have a feeling I'm going to have enough reasons to stay up all night."

"Jax. What the fuck. What does this mean? I'm terrified right now—what are we talking about? And Drake knows about whatever this is?"

Jax handed Catherine a glass with two shots of scotch. "Drink this. It'll calm you down. I'm going to tell you about the letter."

Catherine sank into the gray modern sofa. It was too hard for her liking, not soft and comfortable like hers at home. She took a long sip of the scotch and closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself for something she couldn't name but knew would change everything.

"Mom mentions an incident in Chicago and the time we went to Ecuador. I was a kid then. Mom told you about that incident, right?"

"Your mom can be very cryptic, so tell me what you know."

"Mom took me to Chicago on one of her business trips. It was mid-July 1995, and we were going to turn it into a vacation after her meetings. We were there almost two weeks, took a drive around the border with Canada, did some hiking and a tame rafting trip. I was twelve, but Mom thought I couldn't handle a class five."

Jax paused, his jaw tightening. "It was near the end of the trip. It was brutally hot the whole time. People were sleeping in parks—just outside anywhere because many didn't have air conditioning. People seemed irritable, almost feral. At the time we didn't think anything of it. I assumed it was the heat, but over the years I wondered if there was some sort of connection."

Catherine leaned forward, the scotch burning in her empty stomach.

"We went to dinner one night, and on our way back to the hotel—you know Mom, she's not afraid of much—we took a couple of shortcuts through some back streets. As we turned a corner, we saw a man beating up another man. It was dark, but there was a streetlight dimly illuminating them. We both stopped, and Mom raised her arm toward them and shouted at the guy to stop. The assailant looked up and said, 'Get the fuck outta here or you're next,' then started to stand up. Mom didn't move. We both just stood there."

Jax's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I remember seeing the guy on the ground struggling to get up, but the attacker was on top of him, his legs straddling the victim's upper thighs. As the victim started to get up, I found myself raising my arm out toward him. Now Mom and I are both standing with our arms outstretched, telling him to stop. I don't know why, but I didn't feel afraid. I felt angry and strong, like something fundamental had changed in me. Then it happened."

Catherine's grip tightened on her glass. "What happened?"

"The man—the assailant—now standing, began to shift or change somehow. He sort of... dissolved. I don't know how else to describe it. He pixelated—that's the only way I can explain it—like small shifting mirrors, like pixels on a screen. Then he shifted again into something robotic, metallic looking. But when he turned into this... thing, he looked at us and immediately seemed terrified. He did the pixeling thing again, turned back into the guy we saw before, and ran off."

Catherine felt the blood drain from her face. "Jax, that's impossible—"

"The guy on the ground got to his feet and looked at us. He seemed shocked but wasn't afraid of us. Then he turned and ran off in the same direction as the assailant. We were yelling for him to stop, that we would help him, that he needed to go to the hospital. But he just ran."

Jax stood up abruptly, pacing to the window. "Mom and I stood there for what felt like forever. We didn't know what had happened, and I don't think we believed what we saw. Mom took my hand and we walked back to the hotel in complete silence. When we got to the room, we were still silent. We were in shock. Mom only said, 'I don't know what just happened. Are you okay? Can you sleep?'"

"Mom seemed completely shattered, and I was too—except I still wasn't afraid. I don't understand it, but I felt no fear. Mom was clearly traumatized. For the rest of the trip, which was only a few days, we didn't talk about it. Then when we got home, we were standing in the kitchen, and we talked about what we thought we saw and agreed that we would keep it to ourselves."

Catherine was staring at Jax with her mouth open. "You two had some sort of shared hallucination. That happens sometimes—a joint optical illusion, right?"

"We discussed various possibilities," Jax said, his voice tight. "And if it were just one of us, that would certainly explain it. But then the next year she told me there was a similar incident in Ecuador with Drake. I wasn't there for that part. I went to Ecuador with them, but they were going into some sort of cave system, and Mom didn't want me to go. I stayed at the office of one of Mom's colleagues, but something happened to her and Drake in that cave. Mom was different after that—distant, almost haunted. Neither of them discussed it with me at the time."

Catherine was shaking her head, the room spinning slightly. "Drake never said any of this to me. He's been keeping secrets from me all these years. You all have. Humanity-altering secrets. I'm really disturbed right now, Jax. But there's more according to the letter. What happened in the cave? And where is Drake? Why couldn't he come tonight?"

Jax walked over to Catherine and sat down next to her, putting his arm around her trembling shoulders. "I know this is terrifying, but try to stay calm. I think the best thing you could do would be to read the journals. Start with 1994 like Mom said. Then we'll get together again with Drake and have a longer conversation."

"Terrifying doesn't begin to cover it," Catherine whispered. "What are you people? What am I?"