Cross Waves
Cross Waves
Mind Hackers Series: Book Two
Amanda Uhl
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Aura Color Chart
Glossary of Paranormal Talents
Prologue
1. Missing
2. Partners
3. Rolf
4. Temptation
5. Bell Rock
6. Rolf
7. Crystal
8. Truth
9. Julia
10. Brothers
11. Nonna
12. Escape
13. Cabin
14. Trapped
15. Truth
16. Discovery
17. Corvey Institution
18. Dark Energy
19. Dark Master
20. Kidnapped
21. Crystals
22. Percy
23. Loose Ends
24. Fire
25. Her
26. Red Alert
27. Watched
28. Setup
29. Near Miss
30. Plan
31. Contact
32. Mistake
33. Escape
34. He Speaks
35. Puzzle Pieces
36. Trust
37. Jeopardy
38. Portal
39. At Last
40. Beacon
41. Illusion
42. Rescue
43. The Scarlet Heart
44. Spa Day
45. Premonition
46. Search
47. Capture
48. The Other Side
Epilogue
About the Author
Author’s Note
Other Books By Amanda Uhl
Biography
This is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
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Published in the United States by Amanda Uhl, LLC.
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Cross Waves. Copyright © 2020 by Amanda Uhl
www.amandauhl.com
ISBN: 978-1-952581-00-7
ISBN: 978-1-952581-01-4
Cover by Christian Betulan
www.coversbychristian.com
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All rights reserved.
In loving memory of my mother, Caroline.
And to my mother-in-law, Janice, and all mothers everywhere.
Aura Color Chart
Characters:
Geneva Ericksen — Rose
Rolf Jorgensen — Green
Cynthia Torra — Buttercup yellow
Julia Jorgensen — Violet
Nonna Jorgensen — Olive Green/Black
Carl Ericksen — Cornflower
Nate Ericksen — Teal
Danny Ericksen — Royal Blue
Percy Withers — Amber
Peter Brooks — Arctic Blue
Dr. Grimshaw — Apricot
Kaitlyn Girard — Yellow-green
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Traits:
Death — Pink
Illness — Bright Pink
Secrets — Gray (can be varying degrees)
Unbalance/Drunkenness — Sienna
Worry — Dull Red
Healing — Orange
Growth — Green
Passion/Lust — Purple
Anger/Fear/Action — Bright Red
Revenge — Dark Red
Knowledge/Wisdom — Yellow
Truth/Honesty/Sincerity — Turquoise
Evil Intent/Murder — Black
Confusion/Crazy/Illusion — Brown
Hope — Light Blue
Regret/Sorrow — Mauve
Suspicion/Jealousy — Navy/Dark Blue
Pride/Faith — Green-blue
Calm/Peace — Blue
Dream — Beige
Determination — Coral
Triumph/Excitement — Lime
Glossary of Paranormal Talents
Hacker — An individual capable of manipulating brain waves to read minds and change thoughts. Hackers must be physically near their target to manipulate brain waves; however, they can hack into minds from a distance aided by a trainer. The majority of hackers are male.
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Trainer — An individual capable of manipulating molecules and magnifying energy waves. Trainers can increase the power and reach of a hacker, enabling them to manipulate brain waves at a distance. The majority of trainers are female.
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Beacon — A trainer or hacker with the ability to disburse energy waves, momentarily rendering a talent useless. This ability only works when in close physical proximity to a target and for several minutes. Beacons are extremely rare.
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Dream Talent — A trainer or hacker with the ability to magnify delta waves associated with deep sleep. Dream trainers are capable of placing someone in a dream state. They also have predictive dreams. Dream hackers can enter the dreams of another.
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Tracker — Trainers and hackers who have the ability to track individuals or objects by sensing their energy.
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Dark Master — Trainers or hackers with the ability to manipulate energy that vibrates at the lowest frequency, called dark energy. Dark energy is attracted to living tissue and can absorb matter. Dark Masters are feared because not only is dark energy lethal to any object it comes in contact with, but it is believed Dark Masters are incapable of loving another. Dark Masters who use their talent frequently often become psychopaths and go on killing sprees. They have extraordinary abilities, including being able to track their victims and to change their body chemistry to walk through objects, including walls. This talent is extremely rare.
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Illusion Talent — Trainers or hackers capable of creating situations and interactions that look real but are not.
Prologue
Five-year-old Geneva Ericksen stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Why did she have to take a stupid nap? Naps meant sleeping in her bedroom with the black walls.
She grabbed the railing and put one foot on the first step. Behind her, the kitchen door banged shut, and she turned to look. Mama came into the dining room, carrying the pink tea kettle.
She should never have told Mama and Daddy she saw colors. If she hadn’t told them, they wouldn’t have gotten scared. If she hadn’t told them, they wouldn’t have called men from the government to come to her house to talk to her. If she hadn’t told them, they wouldn’t have painted black over her Winnie-the-Pooh wallpaper to stop her from seeing the colors.
Mama poured herself a cup of tea and set the teapot on the table. Mama was the prettiest and smartest lady in the whole wide world. She said too many colors were bad for little girls like Geneva. But the colors couldn’t come through black walls. That’s why her bedroom had to be painted.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Can I have a story, please?”
Mama smiled. “Okay, honey. Go pick one out. Bring it down here—we’ll read it on the big chair.”
Geneva raced to her bedroom, turned on the light, and got her favorite book from under the nightstand by her bed. The pages were ripped and scribbled on in places, but she didn’t care. Mama had read the story to her so many times she knew most of the words. Cinderella’s stepmother and sisters were mean to her, but the handsome prince loved Cinderella. She became a princess. Geneva wanted to be a princess, too.
A pretty pink color came through her bedroom walls like fog. A cold feeling moved from her head to her feet. Where did the color come from? Why
did it make her feel all strange inside—all cold and shivery like when she got out of the bathtub? Excited and scared at the same time. The government men were wrong. It didn’t matter if her bedroom walls were painted black. The colors always found her.
Geneva flew down the stairs to tell Mama about the color in her room. But she remembered Mama didn’t want her to talk about it. Mama saw colors, too, but not when she was a little girl like Geneva. Mama said the colors were energy, and Geneva had a powerful psychic gift. Too much power for one little girl. The government men would take Geneva and lock her away if she kept talking about seeing colors.
Mama pointed to the overstuffed recliner in the family room and smiled. “Cinderella, again? How did I know you were going to choose this book? Let’s get comfortable, sweetie.”
Geneva climbed onto the cozy yellow chair and waited for Mama to sit next to her. She opened the book. Cinderella was scrubbing the floor. Cinderella was pretty. Cinderella had long, straight blonde hair like Geneva and Mama.
“Once upon a time, there lived an unhappy little girl,” Mama read the first line from the story.
The doorbell rang. Mama looked up. “Now who could be dropping by in the middle of the day?”
Geneva didn’t know who was at the door, but she felt all strange inside, like there was a balloon in her belly. Mama must have felt something, too, because she looked worried. The bell rang again.
“It’s okay. Look at the pictures. I’ll be right back.”
Geneva watched. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. The balloon in her belly got bigger and bigger. Mama opened the door. Waves of black color swept into the room. Two men dressed in dark clothes and wearing Halloween masks came in. One of the men held a gun in his hand. It was pointed at Mama. He shut the door behind him.
Geneva got off the chair. She couldn’t stop the goose bumps that started at her head and raced to her toes. Her skin tingled, reminding her of the time she’d accidentally touched the electric fence on Grandpa’s farm.
The man pointed his gun at Mama. “Where are the crystals?”
Geneva sprang forward, wanting the comfort of her mother.
Mama held her hand out. Her voice sounded high and scared. “Stay back, Geneva.”
Geneva stopped in the middle of the room, but the balloon in her tummy didn’t stop. It kept growing.
Mama fetched a small bag from the cupboard next to the fireplace and handed it to the man with the gun. He gave the bag to his friend, who put it in his pocket. The man with the bag opened the door and left the house, but the man with the gun stayed inside. He aimed his gun at Mama.
Mama cried out, her voice trembling. “You have what you came for. Don’t hurt us. Please.”
Geneva’s heart beat faster and faster. “No, no, no!”
The man with the gun looked at her and back at Mama. “Shut the child up.”
“It’s okay, Geneva,” Mama said. “Go to your room.”
Geneva’s hands tingled. She would not go to her room until she was sure Mama was okay. The bad man still held the gun in Mama’s face.
Colors rushed toward Geneva from every corner of the room. Great big balls of rainbow color. The balls surrounded her, spinning faster and faster, like the merry-go-round she rode with her older brothers at the carnival. They spun so fast they were a blur of color. She opened her mouth to breathe, and the colors came inside. Her body shook hard. The balloon popped. Rose-colored fog blasted out of her and sped toward the bad man. She couldn’t stop the scream that followed. It kept coming and coming and coming.
She didn’t stop screaming even after the gun went off.
1
Missing
Rolf Jorgensen jogged up the wide stone steps leading into the CMU, the U.S. government’s Cognitive Mind Unit. The discreet brown brick building, sandwiched between a pawn shop and a Chinese takeout, had been headquartered in this dreary section of Cleveland for as long as he could remember. Who would guess it housed some of the most psychically gifted and telepathic mind readers in the nation?
He entered the single oak door, keeping to the shadows in the narrow corridor by habit. Bypassing the rickety elevator, he took the stairs two at a time. Adrenaline beat an urgent passageway through his veins, and his heart pounded out an unsteady rhythm. Only his iron control kept him moving forward at an even pace.
Within minutes, he arrived at his boss’s office. Eyeing the familiar number 301 stamped in bold black letters on the grainy wood surface, his gaze traveled down the hall and back to the nondescript door. No light shone from under the gap near the floor, and logic said the room was empty. Rolf knew better.
He didn’t bother to knock, just pushed the door open, the worn hinges letting out a familiar groan. The blinds over the windows, which overlooked a parking lot, were drawn. He stepped inside and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark.
“Take a seat,” Peter Brooks rasped. Rolf’s boss hunched over his massive desk, his graying head in his hands. The dark suit he wore was wrinkled, rather than its normal crisp lines, as if he’d slept in it for days because he couldn’t take the time needed to change his clothes. The clock on his desk read 2:04 p.m.
Rolf kicked the door shut behind him. “Why are you sitting in the dark? What’s the matter with you?” Maybe managing the immense talents in the CMU was taking a toll on Peter. After all, the hackers under his leadership were responsible for guarding the minds of some of the brightest scientists and leaders in the world. His boss’s stress level must be immense.
“Nothing a few aspirin and sleep won’t handle.” Peter lifted his head and winced. Weary lines crisscrossed his forehead. His weathered skin held a gray cast. “What took you so long?”
“I got here as fast as I could.” Rolf selected a mint from the candy jar on Peter’s desk and popped it in his mouth. “Where’s the fire?”
“It’s complicated.” Peter motioned to a leather chair in the corner. “Sit.”
The click-clack of high-heeled footsteps echoed down the corridor outside the office. Only one woman on the team pounded the floor like that—Geneva Ericksen, the most powerful female trainer in the ranks of the CMU. Every hacker required a trainer. They magnified brain waves, allowing hackers to infiltrate the mind without being physically near a target. But he wished he could avoid this particular trainer.
He swallowed the mint and frowned, almost missing the wince in Peter’s gaze. “This better be necessary.” Rolf stepped around the desk and lowered himself into the chair tucked in the corner of the room, facing the door. Once settled, he drew his energy inward and listened as the heels stopped outside the office.
The door flung open, and there she stood, all five feet two of golden mightiness. Power shimmered in the air. His gaze traveled from the top of Geneva’s sleek blonde head, passed over her slim form in a navy-blue dress, and stopped at her hot-pink heels. A familiar and unwelcome excitement curled in his gut as she stepped inside the room, leaving the door open behind her. Paper clips vibrated in a canister on Peter’s desk, a sure sign Geneva was feeling intense emotion, probably anger.
“I won’t do it.”
“Be seated.” Peter came from behind the desk and closed the door. “And stop the jiggling, would you? I’ve got a migraine.”
Geneva remained standing, her small hands fisted against each hip. She took a deep, harsh breath, held it a moment, then two, before releasing the spent air on a controlled exhale. The paper clips stilled. “Give me someone else. Anyone else. I’ll take your newest recruit if you’d like. Just keep Jorgensen far away from me.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Rolf said, stretching his legs in front of him and drawling the words since he knew it annoyed her. On instinct, he probed her mind and found a weak spot in her mental safeguards.
Her wide gaze settled on his. He caught the flash of fear and irritation flitting across her face. Her eyes narrowed and focused. A picture of a donkey’s ass appeared in his mind.
He clenched
his jaw but managed a smile, refusing to acknowledge the mental imagery she sent. A gate slammed into his brain, forcing him to withdraw from her thoughts. An icy pain burned a pathway down his spinal cord. But it was worth it. It was always worth it. He fixed a grin on his face and waited.
Peter turned on his desk light and sighed, the sound slow and heavy. He squinted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never understood the animosity between you two. You worked well together on the Willard case. At least, you survived intact.”
Geneva stuck her nose in the air, reminding Rolf of an annoyed Cupid. “We were part of a team. And I wasn’t paired with Rolf. He’s impossible to work with.” Gauntlet thrown, her gaze locked on Rolf’s, challenging him to disagree.
“As you well know, your former partner has retired,” Peter said to Geneva. “You need a new one, and…your test results came back today.”