Doc Harrison and the Masks of Galleon Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  PETER TELEP

  www.docharrisonbooks.com

  Copyright © 2017 Peter Telep

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be published in print or electronic form. All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is coincidental.

  Cover design by Peter O’Connor

  www.bespokebookcovers.com

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  These wonderful people served as my collaborators and beta readers for this, our second adventure:

  Ms. Cristina Gonzalez worked with me through every phase of this book, beginning with the brainstorming all the way through to the final chapter. Her input made this story so much fun to write. Check out her awesome blog here: http://www.iamwickedz.com/

  Ms. Michelle Pruss read this manuscript multiple times and provided many excellent suggestions, including the wonderful idea of telling the backstory of how Keane, Meeka, and Steffanie were selected for the Palladium. I can’t thank her enough for all the help!

  Ms. Aja Jacobson spent countless hours providing her wonderful and insightful reactions to every chapter. She challenged me to take both the storylines and the characters to new heights, and I’m grateful for the many revisions I was able to make based on her detailed notes.

  Ms. Jackie Fiest is a cherished friend who took the time out of her busy life to contribute her keen suggestions to this book. She gave me some very useful character advice.

  Mrs. Suzy L. Davis once again poured over the pages and offered her reactions and predictions throughout the story. Her time and insights are very much appreciated.

  My daughter Lauren Telep served as my final proofreader on both the first book and this second volume. Her sharp editorial skills helped clean up this old man’s prose!

  Nancy and Kendall always provide me with the time and support to do what I love: ride bikes and write books.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The wreath near my heart grows warm and pulsates with energy as I jump into my persona.

  But something’s wrong. My persona feels bigger, heavier. And it doesn’t look right, either. It’s the musclehead version of myself that Julie hates. Why is this happening? Maybe I’m so upset that I’m losing control—

  Because I’m losing her.

  We’re back at the house in Chuluota, way out in the woods and swamps of Central Florida.

  I charge inside. The place is anything but normal. It’s like we’ve dropped a monster truck engine in the middle of the living room, only our engine’s even bigger and vibrates like a subwoofer when it fires up.

  In a few seconds I’ll leap through the engine’s portal and be gone, chasing after Julie a trillion miles away on Flora.

  Wait a minute. What am I thinking? I still need my father to log into the computer and turn the thing on. “Dad?”

  “No way, Doc! We’re not going anywhere.”

  My father’s jumped into his own persona, but he’s still a pudgy, middle-aged bearded guy with thick glasses—hardly intimidating, even though he glows in the dark.

  Back on the front porch, he’s grabbing my arm, trying to hold me back while our personas do battle here.

  “Come on, Dad! He took Julie!”

  “Who? Solomon?”

  “Yeah, I told you. They jumped to Flora.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Uh, last time I checked he was the guy dying from cancer who pushed his entire essence into his persona.”

  “You sure it was him?”

  “Positive. He took Julie’s hand and they jumped—and she wasn’t in her persona. How did he do that?”

  My father’s stunned. “You really saw him?”

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I just need to review the data.”

  “Are you kidding me? Forget the science experiment! I’m talking about Julie—”

  “And I’m talking about something so dangerous that—”

  “Dad, please! We need to go!”

  “Go where? What happened again? He took her?”

  I wince. “Not exactly.”

  “She was okay with it?”

  “She doesn’t know what she wants. Now, come on! We’re wasting time!”

  My father removes his glasses.

  When he does that, it’s all over.

  His eyes widen. “We’re never going back.”

  I swear under my breath. “Don’t say that!”

  “I’m saying it. And you know why.”

  Yes, I do.

  When we left Flora, the Palladium was still occupied by Solomon’s nomad army, the bombed out City of Violet was held by those Monkshood religious fanatics, and a sandstorm had blasted across the entire continent, leaving who knows what in its wake.

  Even worse, since everyone blames my father’s company for causing the nuclear apocalypse on Flora, if we return, we’ll have huge targets on our backs.

  But I don’t care—because I’m not forgetting about Julie.

  “Dad, I’m begging you. I still—”

  “Still what?”

  My cheeks grow warm. “Julie’s my best friend—”

  “And she’s like my daughter.”

&
nbsp; “Then let’s go!”

  “It’s too dangerous… too many variables.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like getting back. The engine on Flora got damaged.”

  “So we’ll fix it.”

  “And if we can’t?” He turns away and shakes his head.

  I sigh in disgust and struggle for an answer.

  There has to be something that’ll change his mind.

  Wait. Maybe there is.

  “Dad, about a second after they left I had this vision, and it felt like I was breathing in the air of their jump.”

  He whips around, like this is shocking and familiar. “What did you see?”

  “They were on this cliff near the Palladium.”

  “He took her there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because that vision you saw is called a trrune. It means you have the power to see where someone’s jumped in their persona. It doesn’t work all the time, and it’s very rare.”

  “Well, it worked this time—because I definitely saw them, and there was this gigantic black cloud, and it turned into a mask… like a face… and then the eyes snapped open.”

  My father looks scared.

  “Dad, what is it?”

  He swallows. “Nothing.”

  “What did I see?”

  He turns away. “We’re going home.”

  “Dad, please, tell me what’s going on.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, we’re back home in Winter Springs, where my father and I have a massive blowout. He refuses to talk about the masks or about returning to Flora.

  I overhear him call Meeka. He asks if she and Steffanie will come over. He thinks I’ll sneak out and try to break into the engine. I curse and pound up the stairs.

  Up in my room, I collapse on the bed, wondering how to get back to Flora. I slam my fist on the mattress and can’t even think straight now.

  A few minutes later, the girls knock on my door and ask to come in. “No.”

  They argue. So do I. “I’m tired. Just leave me alone.”

  Eventually, they go away.

  I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep.

  Everything is insane right now. I’m lying here in my bed like it’s any other night, like I’m still the old Doc, just some forgettable high school kid.

  I glance around at my collection of mugs from summer vacations… my little Star Wars figures… the dirty laundry creeping out from my closet door... nothing’s changed. And everything has.

  I sigh and curse and bury my head in the pillow.

  Some time later, I begin to drift off…

  * * *

  I dream of the island.

  Julie and I sit cross-legged on a hill overlooking the ocean. The warm wind presses on our cheeks, and my nose crinkles at the scent of salt water.

  We stare at a lizard with a bright blue belly. He sits on a rock, and his head bobs up and down like a hip hop artist.

  Behind him stands a dragon tree, a bundle of gray wires that comes to life in my imagination and grabs people who come too close.

  “Why do they call this the Canary Islands?” Julie asks.

  I groan.

  She turned twelve this year, and when she and her mother visit us on Tenerife, she always asks a million questions.

  It’s getting worse.

  She goes on, “I asked my mom, and she said that back in history the Romans found all these dogs everywhere, so they named the island after dogs, not birds. Is that true? I figured you’d know since you spend so much time here. Also, what kinds of experiments does your father do? He keeps talking about entangled particles. What are they?”

  “Oh, they’re just boring. So hey, you’re letting your hair grow out. It looks really good.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Say random things instead of answering.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She glances at the ocean. Clouds drift along the horizon.

  “It’s a really nice day,” I say.

  But then, in just seconds, the clouds darken and fill the sky. Blank faces begin to take shape, faces like mannequins, faces just like the one I saw floating behind Julie and her father.

  “Do you see them?” I ask her.

  “See what?” She turns to me—

  And her eyes are completely white.

  I scream.

  * * *

  “Doc?” comes a familiar voice.

  Chills rush up my spine.

  Must be morning. Dim light shines through my bedroom window. Palm trees sway gently outside.

  My door creaks open.

  “Are you all right?” Meeka asks, peeking her head inside. Her dark bangs stick out on one side, and there’s a line from the pillowcase drawn across her cheek.

  I rub my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight. We were thinking about pancakes. They’ll make you feel better.”

  “I doubt it.”

  She comes in and sits on the edge of my bed. “So I talked to your dad. I’m sorry he won’t do anything.”

  “He’ll change his mind. He has to.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Hey, come on. You’re really stressed out.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, you’re not alone. We’re stressed out too. Florida’s awesome, but Steff and I feel like we don’t deserve it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Actually, we’ve been in this position before, and we can’t stop thinking about all the rumms back home.”

  Okay, now I understand how she feels. We could only rescue nine of those poor orphans who rummaged through the blast zones, struggling to survive.

  “It’s hard to be happy,” she adds.

  It’s also hard to believe that this is the same girl who once tried to kill me.

  Now when I look at her, I see this girl who never lost hope after her parents were killed in the apocalypse and she was burned across her shoulders and back.

  I see this girl who made tough decisions to protect the caravan of rumms that became her family.

  I see this girl who found the strength to go on even after the only guy she ever loved died of radiation poisoning.

  Meeka taught me a lot about Flora, and we probably spent too much time together, because now I feel this terrible ache that won’t go away—

  Because neither of us wants to be second best.

  I stare at her pajama top, which is actually one of my Star Wars sweatshirts with diagrams of the Millennium Falcon on the front and back. “Where’d you get that?”

  “In the laundry room. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “It looks better on you.”

  “Of course it does, and I’m not even a fangirl.”

  Her phone beeps with a notification from a puzzle game she’s been playing. While we gave phones to all of the rumms, my father locked them up with parental controls so they can’t post online. However, they can still surf the web and do basic things like send texts to approved numbers and download free games from approved sites.

  “So anyway, I wish I could help,” she says.

  “Seriously?”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  I make a face. “Well, Julie’s not your favorite person.”

  “Hey, we took her to the healing wreath. That means a lot to us. And then she blows us off?”

  “Because of her father.”

  Meeka looks at me. “You can’t save her.”

  “You don’t get it. I’ve known her my entire life. When I was little, I fell and broke my arm, and she took care of me. She always has. So now it’s my turn to take care of her. I can’t just walk away.”

  “Even if she doesn’t want to be saved?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Look, Doc, I agree with your father—”
<
br />   “He shouldn’t have told you anything.

  “I’m glad he did. You need someone to open your eyes.”

  “All I need is to get out of here.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Julie made a decision.”

  “Maybe she didn’t. Maybe he’s controlling her, and she’s trying to fight.”

  “Or she’s trying to get away—from all of us.”

  “I told you… you don’t know her the way I do.”

  “Maybe so, but I know it’s crazy to go back. I mean yeah, I’m homesick, too, but as much as I hate to say it, your dad’s right on this.”

  “He’s wrong. And it’s crazy to do nothing.”

  Before Meeka can respond, Steffanie’s voice booms from somewhere downstairs: “Guys? Get down here! Hurry!”

  Her tone scares me. We race down into the living room—

  Where a middle-aged woman lies sprawled across the rug.

  It’s Alina. Julie’s mom.

  And she looks dead.

  CHAPTER TWO

  So last night before my dad and I had our big blowout, he called Julie’s mother and asked her to come over. I braced for impact as he gave her the news. We all did.

  She begged us to go find Julie.

  My father told her they were back on Flora and that it was way too dangerous to go after them. She didn’t believe him. She sounded desperate. She said they might still be on Earth.

  Finally, she had to do something. So she leaped into her persona and jumped around the globe, searching for them.

  Meanwhile, her body remained in our living room, seated in one of the recliners.

  Now my father’s checking her neck for a pulse. “I got up and found her here,” he says.

  Tommy’s on his knees and clutching Alina’s wrist. “Y’all, just calm down. I called Zach. He grabbed all his doctor gear and is on his way.”

  Tommy wants us to remain calm? That’s easy for him to say. He’s a Marine, a gray-haired jarhead who’s squared away. I’m freaking out.

  “How long has she been gone?” Meeka asks.

  “All night,” my father answers. “I went after her. I found her back on the island, but she wouldn’t listen.”