The Carmichael Experiment

By David E. Nettles

Vietnam, 1971

Was he a threat to himself or the other marine pilots? Lieutenant Devon Carmichael was not sure how to answer the straightforward question. The experiment he had been involved in was months ago, with no apparent side effects. "Honestly, I don't think so."

The commanding officer stepped forward. "No? Well, while you were sick, you ran a 108-degree fever. The doctor didn't force me to take you to the hospital because no one knew what the hell was wrong with you. Then I was told flat out to keep my nose out of your past." The captain sighed and moved toward the door. "Your fever was sure strange. By all counts, you should be dead, or brain damaged."

With the knob in his hand, he turned to look at his young officer once more. "So no, huh? Okay, if you say so." He pulled the door open, turned, and leaned against it. "Oh, Dev, a couple other things I may not have mentioned before. You were seen on South Point Hill overlooking the beach and the defensive fighting positions yesterday by the military police, and in the hangar walking around your plane the day before that. And in both instances, you simply vanished! Now seeing as how I know you never left that bed for a single minute since we put you there three days ago, this poor old country boy has to stop and ask himself, 'Do you possibly have a twin?'" The senior officer raised an eyebrow at Devon's expression of shocked surprise.

"Son, you just might want to ask yourself about that top secret stuff one more time. Because personally, I disagree with your answer." He stepped into the hall to let Devon rethink what it had meant to be part of the Carmichael Experiment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781637103104

Book preview

Preface

The Beginning

Vietnam, 1971

What in the world is going on?

The question went unanswered in Devon’s mind. A cool salty breeze swept up the beach and into his face. The sun was setting. Its radiant colors filled the sky. The waves crept in listlessly, unlike the waves of the beautiful California coastline which he had once called home.

Home. It seemed a million miles and a lifetime away.

The wind was blowing though he could not feel it. He could hear it and see the sparse grass swaying in response, but it seemed as though the invisible force passed right through him. Devon felt strange. It was as if he were watching a giant movie screen instead of actually taking part in his surroundings.

He thought for a moment and wondered how he had gotten on this hill overlooking the beach. The last thing he could remember was he had been sleeping in his bunk. After a moment, he could also recall that he was cold there. He had felt restless and uneasy too, even trapped. He wanted, no, he had needed to get away from his quarters. Devon’s eyes widened as the recollection of the beach came to him. That was it. He had been sick in his room and wanted to go to the beach where it had always been warm and pleasant for him. He sighed in relief. This was only a dream! He wasn’t really on this hill at all but back in his room, shivering with fever. He was Just sick, not crazy. He smiled.

Hey, what are you doing here? Devon barely heard the voice at first. It sounded so distant and faint that he thought he had imagined it. You! You in the yellow shirt! What are you doin’ here? Yellow shirt? Devon looked down at his chest. He was indeed wearing a yellow shirt. You are in a restricted area, buddy. Now just who the hell are you? The voice was becoming louder and irritating. Devon could see a figure out of the corner of his eye, but he would not turn to face it. He was afraid that by facing the speaker, he would awaken from this wonderful dream back in his room.

When the tough looking man was within a few paces of Devon, their eyes met. Devon could not remember ever having a dream so vivid before! The man towering before him was thickly muscled, wearing an angry scowl and the uniform of the military police. Let’s see some ID, he demanded.

I’m Devon Carmichael. Please don’t wake me, Devon replied. He heard his own voice but hardly recognized it. It sounded as if it were coming from all around rather than from his lips.

Wake you? I’m gonna kick your ass all the way back to my jeep! Now move! Devon remained where he was and wondered why he would ruin his dream by putting this MP in it. His gaze returned to the waves down below the hill sweeping in and out. Come on, mister, I don’t wanna have to hurt you. I have to make sure this area is clear before dark. Now do you want to do this the easy way, or do you want to be stupid? Either way is fine with me. I ain’t gotta beat somebody’s head in for over a month.

But the sun hasn’t set yet. Again, Devon’s voice sounded as if it were coming from somewhere far beyond him. Then something began to change. Devon could feel the cool sea air. The MP was still urging him to the jeep, but his voice had become more of an echo than anything else. A muffled series of words. Now a warmth covered Devon. The sunset he had been watching was fading, and darkness was engulfing him. At first, he was frightened and struggled to keep himself calm. He was only waking up after all. No need to panic, for crying out loud.

As the MP, the hill, and the beach all faded from sight, Devon noticed that this experience felt different than any other dream he had ever had. He was moving toward wakefulness! As if he was flying to a specific destination. A place he was compelled to go. He did not see the sergeant’s reaction, an expression of absolute shock and disbelief. The young man’s frightened cry of Oh shit! went unheard. The marine stumbled back and tripped over his own feet as Devon Carmichael faded like a ghost before his very eyes. Then he was alone on the hill. Carmichael had vanished.

*****

I don’t care what he says! Everyone in this room will swear that Lieutenant Carmichael never left his room. Not once! Not for a minute, ever! Captain JP Curtis slammed his coffee mug down, splashing its contents on the table. Carmichael is a sick man. You know what I think? I think Sergeant Miller was hitting the bottle on duty tonight! JP was furious. How dare some MP with an extremely questionable record accuse one of his pilots of being out of bounds and then top the story off with that ridiculous vanishing act. On top of which, Devon happened to be one of his closest friends. "He told you Lieutenant Carmichael disappeared, and you have the nerve to come to me with this ridiculous story! Get out of my sight before I put you both on report!"

The gunnery sergeant apologized for the interruption and told the captain that Miller had indeed been drinking. However, the MP said that he had not touched a drop until after the incident with the lieutenant. The gunny assured Curtis that the matter would be looked into immediately. He saluted his commander and left.

Good Lord, Dev. You better get well soon, boy. If you don’t, I just may take one of these stupid jarheads apart! JP thought. Devon had been sick for three days now. The funny thing was, this was the second such story reported.

Part I

Chapter 1

North Carolina, 1992

No, I’m sorry. There isn’t really any change at all. Miss Carmichael, have you ever considered taking him back to California? Maybe taking him home will cause some kind of reaction. Now please don’t misunderstand. We’re more than happy to keep him here. After all, he seems happy enough, but he’s made no progress in the form of a recovery. Dr. Winthorpe closed the file he had been flipping through and set it on his desk. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the young woman thoughtfully. You understand, of course, that these things take time, and he’s not into his own subconscious as deeply as some of the patients I have seen in the past. He responds to the outside world to some extent, but I must admit that we have never been able to reach him as well as you do, or as readily.

Doctor, my father has been like this since I was four years old. I can hardly remember what he was like. I do remember how much he loved Mother. They were awfully close. Do you think he knows she’s dead?

As a matter of fact, he regressed deeply after your mother’s death. I remember the day your aunt came to see him with her attorney. It wasn’t long after your mother passed away. In fact, she was trying to finish off the custody papers on you. Your father could say nothing, of course. Still, I felt he knew more about what was happening than either of them were giving him credit for. When your aunt stated that he was in no condition to take proper care of a child, I had to agree with her, but I did not agree with the way she handled the affair. I thought she was rather ruthless about it, in any case. The doctor paused in reflection for a moment and then added, I saw your father cry that day. She went as far as to tell that lawyer of hers that he carried on in this fashion all the time. I, of course, corrected her immediately. Your father has only cried twice since his admission: The day he arrived here and the day your mother died. The doctor wiped his forehead.

I just can’t believe it’s been over ten years since I left. I hated being away from him, especially with the way things were going then, but a twelve-year-old has little to say about those things. Sheri Carmichael’s gaze was far beyond the flowerbed that lined the doctor’s window. She looked beyond the trees in the parking lot into the past. She was trying to remember what it was like when she was a child living with both of her parents. Those were the happiest days of her life. After all this time, those memories seemed more like a dream or movie than something she had experienced herself.

Dr. Winthorpe looked at his watch. I’m sorry, Miss Carmichael, but I do have another appointment. Was there anything else? He stood and moved around his desk to the young woman seated before him. Sheri stood with all the grace and beauty of her mother who had spent many afternoons in this office talking with the doctor about her husband, Devon Carmichael. The childlike qualities of little Sheri had long since been outgrown, but the sparkle in her eyes that was her father’s danced in the dimly lit office. However closely she resembled her father, her womanly features spoke quietly of her mother. As did her sense of will. Like her mother, she was intelligent, resourceful, and carefully balanced with a gentle warmth.

Sheri gathered herself, thanked the physician for his time, and asked the best time to see her father again. Any time after two, my dear. He seems more alert after lunch.

Chapter 2

Well, it’s about time, thought Brent as he watched the hospital doors swing open. As Sheri stepped away from the building, he could see the sun fill her hair with its radiance and the spring breeze sweep up behind her. She smiled at him as she placed her sunglasses on. She was beautiful. It was one of those moments when he could not believe how lucky he was to have someone like her love him. The best thing that ever happened to him was about five feet four inches tall. She was soft and warm. Although no match for him physically, she somehow had the ability to wrap him around her little fingers. He did not care because he was in love with her. Hey, sexy. How is he?

Pretty much the same, I’m afraid. The doctor suggested taking him back to California, but I’m not sure what to do. Would it bother you to live in California, Brent? Sheri asked as she closed the door to the RX-7. Her gaze had not left his. She could feel her question weighing in the air like a brick. I’m sure we could find a great place to live, and the coastline is breathtaking. Her voice, he noticed, was mildly pleading.

What kind of question is that, Sheri? You know I’ve got the business to think about. That’s the other side of the country, and you know how much the firm needs me right now. What about my mother? He watched her look away at the dashboard, the look of hurt melting her eyes. She bit her lower lip as mixed emotions raced through her. She loved Brent and understood his situation. His firm had not reopened yet and would not for several days to come. His mother was ill, but damnit, she had problems too! She needed him, his strength, and she could not escape the thought that his attitude was one of complete selfishness.

What about my problems? she thought angrily.

I guess when you get right down to it, I can live just about anywhere, Brent said quietly. So long as I’m with you, that is. When did you want to leave?

Sheri was totally unprepared for his change in attitude. A feeling of relief and shame engulfed her. How could she have thought him capable of being so selfish? He was the kindest, most understanding man she had ever met, and she loved him deeply. Oh, Brent, do you mean it?

Of course, I mean it. Now when are we…hey! She threw her arms around his neck and started covering him with kisses. Her hair was all over him. Her scent filled his nostrils, sweet and feminine. Honey, please. Look, can’t you…ouch! Before he could finish his sentence, she had worked herself behind his neck and bit him.

That’s for making me think you were a jerk.

A jerk? Me? At least I don’t bite you when you’re not looking! he protested.

Oh yes, you do. Her voice was soft and provocative. Their eyes locked, and she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his. Brent’s arms encircled her, one around her waist pulling her closer to him, the other lost in the silkiness of her hair. I could never let you go, Sheri. Not now or ever. His hands, so much larger and stronger than hers, gently traced her jawline from behind her ear to her chin. I love you, girl. This time, he kissed her nose. Now if you can tear yourself away from me, we can go get something to eat.

Sheri, with Brent’s help, had managed to position herself between him and the steering wheel. In his pickup, she often leaned over him and played with his ears, making driving a definite challenge. In her Mazda, however, it made driving an impossibility.

So where are you taking me to eat, mister? she asked nonchalantly as she moved back to the passenger seat.

You’ll see. He keyed the ignition.

Chapter 3

Vietnam, 1971

At 0430 hours, Lieutenant Carmichael’s fever broke. The nurse was wiping the perspiration from his brow. JP Curtis was standing at the foot of the bed Devon had been laying in for what was about to be three days.

The doctor had told him before leaving that Devon had had some kind of virus. It was nothing like anything the good doctor had encountered in his thirty years in the medical profession. It started out just like influenza but had certain peculiarities that made it a puzzle indeed. He and Captain Curtis had discussed where Devon had been recently. Had he spent any prolonged time in the jungle? What clubs in the area did he frequent? After searching the local area for similar cases and stacks of medical records, the doctor concluded that whatever Lieutenant Carmichael had, it was an isolated case.

The doctor had left for his quarters before midnight. He had not slept in almost forty-eight hours and was feeling the effects of long study and no rest. The nurse, a Red Cross volunteer, had been watching over the stricken pilot ever since.

JP stayed with Devon for hours without moving. His legs ached, and his back was sore from standing for so long, but he would not leave. Ann Bennet, the nurse, assured him that she would notify him if there were any change in the lieutenant’s condition, but he stayed anyway.

JP was concerned about his young friend. At more than fifteen years Devon’s senior, JP felt as if Devon were the younger brother he had always wanted. He was bright, brave, and eager. They had so much in common. One would have thought that they really had grown up together.

Like JP, Devon was a marine to the core, a real patriot. He volunteered for everything he could, no matter what the odds. That was what was bothering the captain at that very moment. He had found something in Devon’s records that he kept from the doctor. Something he had kept from his executive officer as well.

He looked at his watch. Almost twelve hours exactly had passed since he learned that his friend had been involved in some top secret research for the Department of Defense. The files were very sketchy on the specifics of the research, but Devon had only been released from the project six months earlier. Curtis had made some inquiries by phone and even talked to General Wil Green, the installation commander. No one had any idea what Carmichael had been involved in, and if they did, they were not talking.

The general tried to caution him about his investigation, but JP argued that Devon might be dying right now from something he had contracted while working on that project. Again, the general cautioned JP, Whatever your young flier was involved in, no one was supposed to know about it. I’ve seen some of those markings before. He indicated the coded cover of Carmichael’s personnel file. They are from departments who are involved in some profoundly serious business, JP. Business that I don’t even care to guess at. Stay out of it. If your friend dies, I’m sorry, but he volunteered for the research and will have died for his country if it comes to that. He looked away from the other officer. Like any good soldier should do when necessary. He wasn’t forced into anything, I’m sure. He knew the risks. Besides, if he were a threat to anyone’s health, including his own, they never would have released him.

What is it you’re trying so damn hard not to tell me, Wil? Come on, you know something. JP reflected for a moment. Devon Carmichael arrived on station six months ago; General Green arrived the following week. I’ll bet he’s the reason you replaced Cory Henderson. He wasn’t due to rotate yet. I thought something was funny about the Pentagon sending you back over here. You’ve been coordinating with intelligence for years. You’re not field personnel anymore. You’re here to keep an eye on that kid, aren’t you?

You’re guessing, JP. You have not one shred of evidence to prove any of what you just said. Now I’m telling you for the last time—

Talk to me, Wil, or I haven’t even started to ask questions!

Captain! The voice of command boomed through the office, bracing the subordinate officer instantly. I am still your commander captain, and I am ordering you to cease this investigation right now! Do I make myself clear? I mean you are to drop this matter completely, and it better never come up again! Do you understand me?

Yes, sir! Curtis shouted from rigid attention, his fingernails almost digging gouges into his palms from anger.

Green slammed his drink down on his desk in frustration. He was staring a whole into JP’s head. Finally, he let out a deep breath and sat back down, rubbing his face in a downward motion. Finally, he regained control of his temper, knowing full well that the captain had not yet been able to do that despite his military bearing. Very good, Captain Curtis, the general said softly. You’re dismissed. Curtis picked up his hat after snapping a salute, did an about-face, and made for the door. JP, the general said in a much different tone. If you don’t stop…you’ll kill that kid. Maybe yourself too. Please, let it go. I’ve known you a lot of years, since you were a JG. I hate to see anything like that happen. Curtis stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Too many people are involved, people who want this kept quiet, but I swear to you I’m not one of them.

The captain turned slowly. He respected Wil Green and counted him a trusted friend. He knew that Wil was only trying to protect them both, but still, what about Devon? Who was looking out for him? I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Wil. I really…ah, hell. He turned and left.

General Green pounded his fist into the desktop. He knew JP was not going to stop snooping, and he knew that he would most likely die because of it.

Chapter 4

North Carolina, 1992

Footsteps? What time was it? Sheri opened one eye. Hair. She blew the hair out of her face. I don’t care what Brent says. One of these days, my scalp is going to be about five pounds lighter, she mumbled as she moved the hair out of her face.

It was barely dawn. The sun had just started to chase away the darkness of night. Brent was not in bed. Sheri remembered him saying something about going to the office early this morning.

She could hear the garage door going up. The sound of the pickup engine shook the room. She pulled his pillow to her face; it smelled like him. She held it close and thought of the night before. She thought of dinner, the quiet drive afterward, and the pleasant conversation when they returned to his home.

Our home, she sighed happily. Sheri had not seen her own town house in weeks. She had almost forgotten what it looked like.

Brent was, as she never tired of pointing out, a hopeless romantic. Every time he touched her was like the first time, but wasn’t that the way it was supposed to be? Sheri had never really been in love with any other man. Living with Aunt Helen made that nearly impossible. Sheri had started dating only five years ago and met Brent a few weeks after that.

She had never made love with anyone else. She never wanted to. He was nearly eight years her senior. Aunt Helen almost died on the spot when she was introduced to Brent. That was an evening to remember!

It was in Indiana on Sheri’s eighteenth birthday. Brent met her a month before when she and a girlfriend, Joanne, had broken down in the rain. Sheri’s car, then a Plymouth, had only one objective, and that was to cause her considerable embarrassment and make her late for every job she had ever held. The rain was coming down in buckets that evening. She was soaked, Joanne was soaked, and the car was as dead as a doornail on the side of the road.

Brent was walking by them. He looked like a transient or junkie. His hair was long and stringy, his clothes were ragged, and despite the rain, his hands and arms were filthy. He managed to fix the car in a matter of minutes. After a few uneasy moments, they became quite comfortable with one another’s company. When he was finished and the car was running again, she thanked him, and he said goodbye. Like most people in similar situations, they never expected to see each other again.

It was two weeks later when their paths crossed for the second time. She was attending a cookout for the fire department. She worked in the small town department for the last two years. The barbeque was an annual get-together for the firemen, their families, and friends, but this year it was serving another purpose as well. It was Sheri’s going-away party.

She had graduated high school and was now going on to college. Duke, in North Carolina, had accepted her. She was finally getting away from Indiana and Aunt Helen! After working so hard and dreaming so long, she promised herself that nothing would change her mind.

Joanne was helping her at the picnic table while several of the firemen played flag football with their sons. Wives were cheering their sons against their husbands while the daughters were screaming for their daddies. It was a wonderful afternoon all around. The food was mouthwatering with more than enough beer and soda pop for everyone while the sun was the only thing in the sky.

Later in the day, there was a water fight; the men against everybody. When they were certain they would lose, Cory Willis and his brother, Ned, broke out one of the fire hoses. What a mess! Sheri would miss days like this one when she would go away to school.

As she started cleaning up the remains of lunch, it struck her that she had not seen Joanne for some time. After looking around for a moment, Sheri found her friend talking to a very distinguished looking man. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, she guessed. They were walking in Sheri’s direction. The fellow was over six feet tall, well built, with sandy brown hair. Looking down at herself, Sheri discovered that she was covered in grease, grape soda stains, and mud. Her long hair had fallen out of its neat bun, and strands of it were dangling in her face.

Joanne approached, beaming. Sheri noticed the man’s wardrobe could have been found on any page of the current issue of GQ magazine, but what she found herself really admiring were his hazel eyes. Joanne introduced them and then, oddly, found something else that demanded her immediate attention on the other side of the park. Sheri and Brent Stewart were alone for the first time.

Sheri, can I have a pop? He had a rich soothing voice.

Sorry?

A pop. You know, a soda? Anything will do. Coke, anything. He smiled.

Oh, sure, she said lamely. There was something about Brent that was familiar. She asked him over and over if they had ever met before.

He kept saying, Not really. What kind of an answer was that? He changed the subject. I hear you’re leaving us soon. I hope you enjoy the Carolinas, Sheri. It’s really beautiful country around there.

I know. I lived near Morehead City with my mother until she died a few years ago. We used to spend a lot of time on Ocracoke Island, which isn’t far from there. My dad’s still in a veteran’s hospital farther down the coast toward Parris Island. It’s not much of a hospital. It’s more of a home, really. I’ll feel better being a little closer to him. Sheri could feel his eyes on her even when she looked away. Are you sure I don’t know you?

I hardly think so. Not really. Well, I hate to go, but I do have some errands to run. Do you think I could see you later? he asked with raised eyebrows.

Aunt Helen would have a fit if she found out I was dating a guy so much older, she thought. Well, she said aloud, I leave next Monday. How about the day after tomorrow? In the back of her mind, she could hear her aunt screaming. She could almost see her aunt’s face, red with fury. She’d just have to get over it because this was one guy Sheri was not about to pass up!

The day after tomorrow? Why not this evening? Brent sipped his drink and watched her expression. After all, I shouldn’t be that long on my errands.

No, it’s not that. The day after tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday. After that, she can’t say anything about… She hesitated.

She? Anything about what? He smiled wickedly. Oh, you mean my age?

Well, you see, I live with my aunt Helen. She’s my mother’s sister, and I’m afraid she would have a stroke. Then after she kicked you out, I’d have to hear her standard Perverts Are Everywhere lecture. For hours. Every day. She looked down at the cluttered picnic table. And night.

"I had forgotten about your aunt. Well then, your birthday will have to be something extra special, and I’ll have a copy of the Exodus soundtrack in my car. She smiled at him. Will you have to be home early?"

Not after my birthday! I’m a free wo— She blushed. She had never referred to herself as a woman before, and it sounded funny.

Woman? You can say it. When Joanne told me how old you were, I thought she was lying anyway. I feel a little like a— Now he shifted uneasily.

Cradle robber? You can say it. She crossed her arms and smiled at him wickedly.

Hey, it wouldn’t bother me in the least to be seen in public with you. You look like you’re working on your graduate degree anyway. If I told people how old you really are, they wouldn’t believe me! He glanced at his watch. Oh, geez! I’ve really got to go. Day after tomorrow, he said. Don’t forget. As he walked away, he promised to call her at the fire station in an hour or so. Sheri’s wave was a small robotic motion. Brent stopped at the edge of the park and called back, How’s your car running? He smiled, waved, and was gone.

Isn’t he cute? Sheri had not noticed Joanne come up beside her.

Jo, that can’t be the same guy that helped us that night, she said in disbelief.

Oh yes, it can.

Those clothes must have cost him every penny he has.

"Sheri, that guy is loaded! Don’t you remember Cory talking about that service buddy of his that owns some architectural firm in Chicago and was going to fly down and help him add a den onto his house? Well, Brent Stewart is that guy!" Joanne smiled, poking her friend in the arm to emphasize her words.

He can’t be.

Brent Stewart owns the Stewart Architectural Firm, Joanne stated flatly and then looked back in the direction Brent had left. By the way, he likes you. Sheri gave her a get serious look and shook her head. He told me so, Joanne said matter-of-factly and used her index finger to lift Sheri’s chin back to its upright position. She laughed as she walked away.

*****

Sheri lay in bed, holding Brent’s pillow, remembering the barbeque. She thought of him and sighed. Thinking back now, that old Plymouth was good for something after all.

Chapter 5

Vietnam, 1971

With only eight days into the new year, and three of them spent in what was more like a coma than sleep, Devon was understandably disoriented. As his eyes began to focus on Anne Bennet, he was not sure where he was. In a moment, he recognized the nurse’s uniform that she wore very capably. She put a soft hand against his forehead.

I’d like to take your temperature, if you don’t mind, she said. Devon did not take his eyes off her. Her hair was auburn and her eyes a striking green. She was very pretty. Not beautiful or gorgeous, just quietly pretty.

Hey, kid, how you feel’? asked JP, who finally decided to take a chair before his legs collapsed. In answer to his question, Devon shrugged his shoulders and shook his head from side to side. You’ll come around. You had us worried there for a while. Anne, do you think he could have some food?

That would be great. I’m starved, the patient interjected.

Well, I think we should try him on some fluids first. Maybe this evening or tomorrow I’ll bring you something a little more solid. We’ll ask the doctor when he comes in, okay? Even if it were not okay, Devon would have lied for her.

JP watched the nurse finish up and leave the room. They was gonna put you in that damn shack they call a hospital, and I said like hell! That place ain’t fit for my ex-wife. Well, maybe her, but no decent folks! The captain stood and shook Devon’s foot. Damn, I’m glad you’re okay. You scared the hell outta me the other night. One minute we was watchin’ the poker game, and the next you was on the floor! I thought maybe the smoke had got to ya, because I know you don’t drink. Me an’ the boys carted your ass back to your room. I figured a little rest would fix ya up. It didn’t. Then you started turnin’ blue like maybe you stopped breathin’. That’s when I sent for the sawbones. JP walked around to the side of the bed.

I don’t remember anything, JP, not even the poker game. I admit when I woke up a few minutes ago, I was scared. Well, until I saw the nurse. Devon smiled and then tried reaching for a glass of water from the bedside table. Damn, I’m thirsty, and my throat hurts too. He raised the glass to his lips and sipped the cool water.

JP wanted very much to talk to Devon. There were so many questions he wanted to ask but knew that now was not the time. After a moment of consideration, however, he decided that it might be more dangerous to wait. Dev, I need to ask you something. Now hear me out first. I don’t need to remind you that I have Top Secret clearance. While you was sick, I did some digging into your records, and I discovered that most of them were missing or coded. Now don’t look so damned worried. I ain’t gonna ask you nothing specific. All I’m concerned about is that you were so sick that maybe that research had something to do with it. Now understand my position. I got a general telling me you’re fit to fly. On the other hand, I see you with my own eyes fall into a deathlike sleep for no apparent reason. Now what if you did that while you were in the air, boy? We’re talkin’ about the effectiveness of a mission maybe, or even more importantly, people’s lives! Now, Dev, I’m gonna ask you straight out. Are you an endangerment to yourself or the other leathernecks?

No. Well, maybe. Hell, JP, I don’t know. I wish I could remember getting sick, but I can’t! That research was almost nine months ago, and I haven’t been sick once since. Honestly, I don’t think this had anything to do with it. Besides, I told you about Evelyn. She’s the reason I left the project. I thought it was interesting.

Then let me tell you a couple of things I’ve been able to dig up on my own. While you were sick, you ran a 108-degree fever off and on for hours. The doctor didn’t force me to take you to the hospital because General Green said that whatever you had may have been contagious, and he was not going to allow the doctor to expose the other patients to it. The doc would have put up a bigger fight, but he knew the old man was right since that hospital ain’t got no real way to quarantine anybody. No one knew what the hell was wrong with you.

I was told flat out to keep my nose out of it. Your past, I mean. I also tried to get in touch with some of the other personnel involved in the project, but they all seem to have disappeared. The other participants are gone too. Vanished! I did manage to find one. His name was—

Benson. Richard Benson, Devon interrupted him.

JP’s face went slack. Yeah, how’d you know I was gonna say him?

Because next to me, there were no other survivors. That’s what I found to be so damned interesting. If it wasn’t for those quack scientists buying off the woman I loved… I might have stayed. I was crazy for her and thought she loved me too.

JP pulled his chair closer to the side of the bed. Dev, if you don’t mind me askin’, just what did happen between you two?

The younger pilot sighed. "Since the experiment I was involved in didn’t seem to work, they paid Evelyn to get knocked up with my kid just to see if it glowed. They were hoping it would be passed on to my baby. Anyway, I was pissed. I said to hell with it! Devon wiped the sweat off his forehead and sighed heavily. That’s the only part of the story I never told you."

You said she was a bitch. JP nodded. Man, you weren’t kiddin’. I hope for your sake you were exaggerating when you said your kid might glow in the dark.

Devon laughed. Yeah, of course I was. But wouldn’t it be my luck, though? I wish I could tell you more, JP, but I can’t. Most of it I don’t even understand. I just don’t think my illness had anything to do with that project. He tried to sit up and adjust his pillows.

Well, your fever was sure strange. By all counts, you should be dead…or brain damaged with a fever that high. Anyway, I’ll get outta here and let you get some rest for now. By the way, the nurse’s name is Anne Bennet. She’s a real sweetheart, that one. He patted Devon’s leg and moved toward the door. With the knob in his hand, the captain turned to look at his friend one more time. Nothing to do with it, huh? Okay, if you say so. He pulled the door open, turned, and leaned against it. Oh, Dev, one other thing I may not have mentioned before. You were seen on South Point Hill overlooking the beach and the defensive fighting positions yesterday by one Sergeant Miller of the military police. You were also seen in the hangar walking around your plane the day before that. Now seeing as how I know you never left that bed for a single minute since we put you there, this poor old country boy has to stop and say hmmm. Then I ask the question, ‘Do you possibly have a twin?’ JP’s tone was even and his gaze piercing. Devon’s face was one of shocked surprise. I didn’t think so. Son, you just might want to ask yourself about that Top Secret stuff one more time. Because personally, I disagree with your answer. Ciao. He stepped into the hall to let Devon rethink what he had been in involved in.

Chapter 6

North Carolina, 1992

Sheri did not really want to get out of bed. Instead, she took her old photo album from the drawer in her nightstand. She flipped through the pictures she had taken in the summer of 1986. She found the ones of her first date with Brent.

It was wonderful and sad. Sheri liked him quite a bit, but college was a dream she did not want to let go of. She wanted to get to know Brent better and have more of their special times together, so she postponed her departure for school. Originally, she wanted to get to school two weeks early so she would have plenty of time to get settled, but that was not so important anymore. Finally, after the second postponement, she knew she had to make a choice.

Brent was not going to help her make her decision. He openly supported the idea of Sheri continuing her education. He also told her how much he cared for her and how he would miss her. She thought his sacrifice was touching and noble. So touching, in fact, that at one point she nearly chucked the whole school dream.

Then there were the nights when she would lay in her bed staring at the ceiling and wonder if Brent really cared for her as much as he said he did. Maybe he was just humoring her until she left. No. One look into those shining eyes and she would know whether or not he was lying. Wouldn’t she?

Sheri laughed at herself, remembering those long tortured nights as she looked at her photos. God, how those doubts used to plague her mind! She could not have known then that Brent had his own reasons for wanting her to relocate to North Carolina. All he kept saying was If a relationship is worth having, it’s worth waiting for. Besides, it’s not like I won’t see you anymore. If you think I’m going to just disappear until you graduate, you’re crazy!

Sheri finally made her decision and went to school. A week or so late, but she was not worried