The Dream Machine: Book 6, The Eddie McCloskey Paranormal Mystery Series (The Unearthed) by Evan Ronan Read Free Book Online Page A

“I’ll be down in an hour. Let’s sync up before then.”
    Manetti nodded and White left the room, shutting the door behind him.
    For a moment we sat in silence. I had a million questions for her. She looked like she didn’t know where to start. We shared a companionable look.
    “Ready?” she asked.
    “Once more into the breach.”
    She almost smiled. Almost. Manetti went up and sat where White had been. She brought the computer out of sleep. The last image—I’ll never forget it—burned more deeply in my mind. I was reminded of those shadows left in Hiroshima after the bomb. Forever burned in history.
    “What’s the other thing?” I asked. “Maybe I could look at that while you do this. Divide and conquer.”
    She shook her head. “This is where we need to focus right now. Tomorrow morning we’ll do the other thing.”
    I sighed, not wanting any part of this but also not wanting to back down from the horror. I knew if I did, it would own me.
    “Alright.”
    ***
    We looked for clues. Anything that might identify the rapist, the woman, the house.
    After I’d watched the video a dozen more times, I was able to figure out the man wasn’t wearing pants, he was wearing jeans.
    Other than that, we had nothing.
    “Neither of their faces are clear,” Manetti said.
    “Which kind of makes this hard.”
    She groaned, rubbed her eyes.
    “How long have you been up?”
    “Thirty-six hours.”
    “Dear God.”
    She stood and stretched. “What would you say? Something literate, like no rest for the weary.”
    “I’d say, go lay down and I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the briefing.” I pointed at the screen. “We’re not getting anywhere with this.”
    “We’re not,” she agreed.
    “Were you expecting the faces to be clear?” I asked.
    It took her a moment to realize I’d asked her something. “What?”
    “I said, were you expecting the faces to be clear?”
    She frowned, thought about it for a stretch. “Guess I was.”
    “Why?”
    “The faces weren’t blurred like this during her dream about the shootout at the mall,” Manetti said.
    “Show me.”
    Manetti sat back down and went through folders on the computer. The folders were labeled and ordered by date. She clicked on one from a week ago.
    “Here you go.”
    This video was in color, unlike the rape clip which was sort of black and white and fuzzy. This video was sharp, the details all filled in. I could see an Indian man behind the counter of what looked like a convenience store. Manetti switched it off quickly.
    “So what gives?” I said.
    Manetti shook her head. “Let’s watch and compare.”
    “Good idea.”
    She clicked the mouse and the video started. Again there was no sound. For whatever reason they could only see Alison’s dreams, not hear them. I made a mental note of that.
    On screen, the camera seemed to be coming from somebody’s point of view as they walked around the store. There were a bunch of teens in there and occasionally the point of view shifted back to the Indian man at the front of the store. Manetti let it play for a minute.
    The faces in this dream sequence were easy to make out, very well-defined. If I ran into one of these kids on the street, I would have recognized them.
    “Why can we see them, but we can’t see the man and woman in the bedroom?” I asked.
    She shook her head.
    “Why is this in color but that’s in black and white?”
    Again, she shook her head. “Eddie, you’re asking all the same questions I’ve already asked.”
    “What did Dr. Zane say?”
    She tore her eyes away from the screen. “That he didn’t know.”
    “Let’s go back to the other dream.”
    She brought the rape scene back up. It was still turning my stomach. But I forced myself to watch.
    “It’s like somebody else dreamed this,” I said. “Is there any w—”
    “No.” Manetti shook her head. “First thing I asked Zane. The dreams are… stored in separate environments. Alison dreamed both