CHAPTER TEN
Broken Codes
March 10th, 2012
Alma followed Rachel down the street in the affluent neighborhood. The sun was already setting and she was shocked at how long they’d managed to spend shopping. Alma wasn’t the type of girl that normally spent more time at a store than it took to run in, get what she needed, and get out. It was something that Paul always said he loved about her, but Alma would be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed the day’s decadence.
Rachel had taken her to various shops in the city that Alma had never heard of before, and they had lunch at an outdoor café that overlooked the shopping district. During their trip, three different people had approached Rachel, recognizing her from television, and told her that they loved her work. One even asked for an autograph, and Rachel complied although she looked embarrassed while doing it.
“Did you have a good time?” Rachel was headed up to the steps to her apartment when she turned and smiled at Alma.
“Are you kidding?” Alma held up two arms filled with bags. “This was amazing. I still feel guilty that you bought all of this for me.”
“Don’t mention it. I was happy to do it. I felt like a complete bitch after what happened with your dad. I swear, I never in a million years thought he’d follow us back here to find you.”
“Oh don’t worry about it,” said Alma. “He’s a nutjob.”
“Still though, buying you a few nice things is the least I can do to apologize.” She paused at the door with her keys near the lock. “What do you think Paul’s going to say? Do you think he’ll like your new look?”
“I don’t know. He’s never seen me looking like this. Heck, I’ve never seen myself looking like this.”
“Well, you look great, Alma. Absolutely gorgeous.” Rachel saw the bashful way Alma turned her head, unwilling to accept the compliment. “I’m serious. You’re a gorgeous girl, and Paul will be lucky if you decide to take him back.”
Alma and Rachel had spent a good part of the day chatting about Paul, and Alma’s history with him. Alma revealed a lot of things that she’d never told anyone, and she attributed her admissions to the fact that Rachel was a good listener. She was always quick with an opinion, but seemed genuinely interested to hear what was going on in Alma’s life. Rachel was a talented interviewer, and Alma enjoyed talking to her.
When Rachel asked Alma to explain what attracted her to Paul, she’d struggled to encapsulate it. Their relationship, which had been going on and on since high school, was tumultuous, but Alma couldn’t imagine a life without him. He was as important to her as anyone in her life ever had been, and she depended on him more than he knew. Even when they were broken up, she would call him just to hear his voice. Many of those random calls ended with them arguing, but Alma never stayed mad at him for too long. As she tried to explain to Rachel what it was about Paul that attracted her so much, Alma stated that she felt safe with him. That was a luxury Alma didn’t often feel, but she knew Paul would do anything to protect her.
Rachel continued her query, “Which begs the question, are you going to take him back?”
Alma shrugged, and then sighed before saying, “I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
Rachel coyly smirked. “Yes you have. Don’t try to lie to me.”
Alma blushed.
“You’ve been talking about him all day. He’s a lucky guy, and I think you two make a cute couple,” said Rachel as she turned the key and opened the door.
“There they are.” Alma heard Stephen’s voice from inside. “Do we have any money left?”
“That depends on how much you spent on your ghost detecting crap,” said Rachel as she went in. “Where’s Paul?”
“He’s out back with his friend,” said Stephen. “They’re loading up his friend’s van with the equipment. He was able to get us someone else to come along for the trip and help out.”
“Oh,” said Rachel. “That’s helpful.” She set her bags down in the foyer and turned to present Alma. “So, what do you think?”
Stephen whistled. “Hot damn, girl! Look at you.”
Rachel spun her finger to instruct Alma to model her new look. Alma held her arms out to the side with the bags still looped around them and turned for Stephen to inspect her new black dress.
“You look beautiful, Alma. Honestly.”
“Thanks,” said Alma. “But you guys spent too much on me.”
Stephen waved away her concern. “Think of it as a down payment on what I owe you for denting your car.”
“Oh my God,” said Rachel. “I totally forgot about that. We’re paying for that,” she said as if scolding Stephen.
“I will, I will,” said Stephen in defense. “Come on in and chill out. I’ve got burgers and brats on the grill, and Paul warned me that you were a vegetarian, so we got some of those veggie burgers too. And we picked up some beer that Paul said was your favorite,” he said and looked at Alma.
“You guys are being too nice to us,” said Alma. “I feel like you’re buttering us up for something.”
Stephen smiled and laughed, but Alma detected a slight bit of reservation in his response. “Well, I still have to get you to sign the wavers and stuff. Once you do that, I promise I’ll start being mean to you.”
“Okay.” Alma put her bags down beside Rachel’s. “That sounds more like it. I’m not used to people being so nice all the time.”
“Get Rachel to play Scrabble with you and you’ll see her mean side,” said Stephen.
Alma raised her eyebrows and looked at Rachel. “Be careful, I’m a Scrabble freak.”
Rachel stopped, straightened her posture, and glared at Alma as if about to yell at her for something. “Don’t screw with my emotions, Alma. Are you serious? Because I’m the biggest Scrabble nerd, like, ever. For real.”
“Me too,” said Alma pleadingly, as if trying to convince Rachel that it was true.
“What’s your favorite word that pisses other people off when you use it?” Rachel seemed to be testing Alma.
She thought about it for a minute. “Xi. It’s a letter in the Greek alphabet that’s in the Scrabble dictionary.”
Rachel’s eyes widened and she squeaked in pleasure. “I love you so much right now, Alma. I studied the Scrabble dictionary and came up with all sorts of little words that no one else knows. It pisses people off so much, but I’m always just like, ‘Go ahead and challenge me.’ They learn not to real quick.”
“True,” said Stephen. “I won’t play with her anymore.”
Rachel stepped toward Alma and took her hands. She had an oddly serious look on her face as she spoke. “Alma Harper, would you do me the honor of playing Scrabble with me tonight?”
Alma laughed. “I’d love to, as long as you promise not to take back all the stuff you bought me after I beat you.”
“Oh, those are big words, little girl,” said Rachel. “I haven’t lost a game of Scrabble in over a decade at least.”
“Lord have mercy,” said Stephen. “It’s like the dork circle is finally complete. My wife found her soul mate. I guess me and the guys will just have to break out the Xbox or something.”
“Oh yeah,” said Alma. “Which friend of Paul’s did you say is coming along?”
“A big guy,” said Stephen as he held his hand well above his head, “named Jacker.”
“Oh, okay,” said Alma. She looked at Rachel and added, “You’ll like him. I only met him last night, but he’s a really nice guy.”
“Jacker is a weird name,” said Rachel.
“He’s into computers,” said Alma.
“He’s a cool guy,” said Stephen. “I feel bad about what happened with his girlfriend.”
“Why?” asked Alma. “What happened?”
Stephen looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at Alma and Rachel. “I’ve said too much.” He made a zipper motion over his lips and tried to walk away.
“No, no, no,” said Rachel. “You have to tell us now. W
hat happened?”
“Sorry, babe, I’m not one of your gossipy friends,” said Stephen. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him. It’s not my place to say.”
“Oh fine, be like that,” said Rachel. “How long until food’s ready?”
“It’s good to go. I was just waiting on you two.”
There was a knock at the back of the apartment and then a door opened down the hall. Jacker leaned his head inside, uncertain if it was appropriate for him to just walk in. “Hello?”
“Come on in,” said Stephen.
Jacker and Paul came in through the door on the opposite side of the apartment. Jacker saw Alma first, and put his hand over his heart as he stumbled backward, emphasizing his surprise. “Holy cow, Alma. You clean up well.”
Paul walked around his friend and was astonished by what he saw. He blinked his eyes and shook his head. “God damn, babe.”
Alma felt her ears burn as she blushed. She ran her hands through her hair and asked, “Do you like it? It’s not too short, is it?”
“Do I like it?” asked Paul. “Are you kidding? You look like a super model.”
“Stop it.”
“No, he’s right,” added Jacker. “You look,” he stopped in search of an appropriate descriptor, “stunning.” He was stumbling down the hall, and looked disheveled. Alma attributed his odd mannerism to a lack of sleep.
Paul walked past his friend and came to stand before Alma. He put his hand on the side of her face and then gazed up and down at her. He was at a loss for words and could only smile. Alma never felt prettier in her entire life.
“You must be Jacker. I’m Rachel.” The strawberry blonde reporter was quick to introduce herself.
“Hello,” said Jacker as he shook her hand.
“Tell me what happened with your girlfriend,” said Rachel, unfettered by common restraint.
“Rachel, Jesus,” said Stephen, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” said Rachel. “I don’t like to beat around the bush with people. Stephen said you had something bad happen with your girlfriend, and I want to know what happened.”
“Normal people try to get to know someone before grilling them with questions like that,” said Stephen as he headed for the refrigerator to get a beer.
Rachel shrugged and walked hand in hand with Jacker toward the kitchen table. “Well, I’m not a normal girl. Here, sit down and talk to me.”
Jacker obeyed, although he looked uncomfortable.
“Now tell me what happened. I know a lot of pretty girls who are suckers for a guy with a broken heart. Trust me.”
Alma and Paul went to sit at the table with them as Stephen got everyone something to drink. The dining room, living room, and kitchen were all connected, but there was a thin, paper partition adorned with Japanese symbols that broke up the area. Paul tried, and nearly failed, not to knock over the decorative wall as he edged his way around the table.
Jacker splayed his hands out over the dark wood and tapped his fingers as he sighed. “It’s my fault, really. I’m as much to blame as she was.”
Paul grimaced and shook his head. “Bullshit.” He accepted a glass of beer from Stephen and Alma assumed that Paul had already taught the host how to properly pour their favorite beer because it had the perfect amount of head on it. “Don’t blame yourself for it. She cheated on you, plain and simple.”
“Is that true?” asked Rachel.
Jacker nodded and then crossed his arms. “Yeah.” He was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, but Rachel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She was a consummate journalist, more interested in the details of the story than the ramifications of discussing it.
“Why do you think it’s your fault then?” asked Rachel.
“Because, I don’t know, I should’ve paid better attention to her, taken her out more; that kind of stuff.”
“But, she cheated on you, right?” asked Rachel.
“Yep, with the stock boy at her work,” said Jacker. “She’s a cashier down at the grocery store on Thirtieth and Boston.”
“If she’s the one that cheated, then she’s the one to blame,” said Alma.
She hadn’t meant it as a barb for Paul, but realized that it would be after she said it. Still though, she didn’t feel bad. He deserved to feel guilty for some of his past mistakes.
Jacker stared uncomfortably at his hands as he writhed his fingers in and out of one another.
“All right,” said Stephen loud enough to end the conversation. “Let’s give the guy a break and focus on the next few days.” He set a glass of beer in front of Jacker.
Jacker tipped the glass in Stephen’s direction and said, “Thanks.” It was obvious that he was thankful for more than the beer.
Stephen sat down and leaned back until the top of his chair rested against the wall. “Let’s talk about Widowsfield.”
“No, no, no,” said Rachel. “Let’s save it for the show.”
Stephen let his chair drop back down and then crossed his arms. He nodded his head as if coming to the conclusion that his wife was right. “Okay, fine. But let’s at least go over the agenda.”
“Okay,” said Rachel.
“If we leave tomorrow morning we can get there before dark,” said Stephen. “I figure we should stay the night in Branson, which is about forty miles from Widowsfield. I stayed at a nice hotel out there the last time I was out, and I’ll get us some rooms. I’ll try and find a local that knows about the town.”
“Like who?” asked Rachel, interrupting her husband.
“I’ll find someone. Don’t worry. If nothing else, I’ll track down the girl I talked to last time. She’d been to Widowsfield a bunch of times and I’d bet…”
Rachel pressed her finger on the table as if pushing an imaginary button. She made a loud buzzing noise and then said, “Wrong, try again.”
Stephen grimaced and gave his wife a tired look.
Rachel shook her head and said, “No. We’re not bringing along some slut you…”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Stephen. He looked over at the others, smiled, and rolled his eyes. “She’s got it in her head that I go out on business trips and meet all sorts of exotic women. You’d think a girl as pretty as Rachel wouldn’t be so jealous and self-conscious all the time.”
“Tell me about it,” said Paul, inviting a sneer from Alma.
Stephen laughed and then slapped the table a few times. “Back on the subject. We’ll sleep at the hotel, and I’ll try to find someone to take us to Widowsfield. If I can’t, no big deal, we’ll just go by ourselves. Then, on Monday morning, we’ll head out to the old Main Street. It’s a ghost town now. We can do some filming there, and get a bunch of b-roll, that’s just exterior shots that we’ll use to fill in places for the actual show. It’ll give us a chance to explore some of the more famous spots around town.”
“What spots are those?” asked Alma.
“Well, like I said, there’re a lot of theories about what happened,” said Stephen. “There was a UPS truck in the area at the time, and the driver disappeared just like everyone else. The guy wasn’t from Widowsfield, so it’s unlikely he was tied to the meth ring. His truck was found on Main Street, outside of a used book store. We can go there, and check out the store.”
“And then there’s the hill,” said Rachel.
“Right,” Stephen pointed at her as he nodded. “Some of the teenagers from the area go to a hill that overlooks a farm near Widowsfield. It’s kind of a make-out spot for the kids, but a lot of them have reported seeing a cloud appear over the field, filled with green light, and then suddenly disappear.”
“I’ve seen some videos of that shit online,” said Jacker. He was getting infected with Stephen’s enthusiasm about the project.
“Right,” said Stephen. “It’s creepy, isn’t it?”
“Heck yeah it is,” said Jacker.
“I want to go spend the night on the hill,” said Stephen.
“Surr
ounded by teenagers making out in their cars?” asked Rachel with a grimace, as if this was the first she’d heard of this plan. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t think they’re out there every night,” said Stephen.
“I think you just want to catch a glimpse of some teen girl’s boobs.” Rachel crossed her arms as she chided her husband.
“That’d be cool too,” said Stephen.
“Could I make a suggestion?” Alma was still timid around their hosts, and she had to force herself to speak up to be heard over them as they playfully argued.
Rachel and Stephen turned their attention to Alma. “Sure,” said Stephen, surprised that Alma felt like she had to ask permission.
Alma’s hands were shaking and she hid them under the table. “I’d like to go to the cabin first.”
“Which cabin?” asked Stephen.
“The one that my father used to take us to. It’s near the elementary school, on the edge of town.” Alma looked down at her trembling hands and stilled them between her bony knees. “The last time I was there was with my mother, and I had a…” She stopped and struggled to continue. The others stayed silent as she battled with herself to recount any details of what happened. She felt like tears were about to spring from her eyes. She shook her head, trying to break the odd, sudden emotion, and took a long, deep breath. “That’s when I remembered my brother again.”
Rachel was quick to ask a question, uninhibited by Alma’s obvious emotion. “What do you mean? You didn’t remember him before that?”
Alma shook her head and continued to look down. “No. Something happened that day, in Widowsfield, when the cloud came through. I just forgot him. Not just what happened with him that day, but everything about him. It was like he didn’t exist. When my father and I got home, I saw pictures of him in our house, but I didn’t know who he was. My mother was furious and kept showing us pictures of my brother to prove he existed, and eventually called the police on my father. It was the worst day of my life. The cops interviewed me for hours and kept showing pictures of Ben and me together, but I didn’t remember any of it. They eventually just attributed it to post traumatic stress, although they couldn’t identify what had caused it.”
“Wow,” said Stephen as he leaned forward, his elbows perched on the table, to listen intently to what Alma was saying. “How did you end up remembering?”
“At first, I thought I started to remember him, but it was really just a trick of the brain.” Alma felt Paul’s hands on her shoulders and leaned her head back into his stomach as he stood behind her. She was thankful he was there to comfort her, and she suddenly realized that she couldn’t do this without him. “Have you ever heard about the study they did on childhood memories where they Photoshopped pictures of people together in a hot air balloon?”
None of them had, so Alma explained. “They would take a picture of a father and son, and put them in a hot air balloon even though they’d never gone in one before. Then they’d show the people a bunch of pictures of their childhood, most of them real, and the hot air balloon picture would be mixed in with the real ones. Afterward, they asked about the events in the pictures, and almost every time the patients talked about their trip in a hot air balloon with their father. They made up their own experience, and thought of it as real.”
“Hold on.” Rachel got up and rushed into the kitchen. She came back moments later with a pad and pencil and was furiously scribbling. Then she sat back down with the pencil, ready to write more. “Okay, go on.”
“Do you always have to take notes?” asked Stephen with a laugh.
“Yeah,” said Rachel matter-of-factly. “I’m a reporter; it’s what I do. Go on, Alma.”
“Anyhow, I think that’s what happened with me. I saw those photos of me with Ben, and I started to believe in them. I made up a relationship with my brother, even though I couldn’t remember that he ever existed. Then I went to Widowsfield with my mother, and it all changed.”
“What happened?” asked Rachel. She was quick to respond and was ever vigilant with her pencil, ready to take down every bit of information that Alma was willing to divulge.
“Chaos Magick,” said Stephen, and his response surprised everyone at the table. “Am I right?”
Alma nodded. “Yes. You mentioned it at the restaurant too. How did you know about that?”
“I’ve been researching you for a long time, Alma,” said Stephen. Then he smiled and sat back. “Not to sound too creepy or anything. I’ve been looking into supernatural stories all around the country, trying to figure out which one would make a good first feature for our site. During a shoot in Branson, I met someone that told me the local legends about the Widowsfield lights, and that’s what got me to start researching it. That’s when I discovered that you lived near us. Once we figured that out, we knew it was Widowsfield that we wanted to focus on first.”
Alma was confused as she thought about what Stephen was saying. “Then why didn’t you come to me first? Why did you go try to find my father first?”
Rachel and Stephen appeared uncomfortable. Rachel was the first to try and explain. “Well, we wanted to test out our format first, so we went to Philadelphia and did that story on the haunted house. That’s what got everyone buzzing about our site in the first place. Since we were there, we decided to interview your father.”
Alma thought about it, but still shook her head. “Still though, why wouldn’t you come talk to me first?”
Neither of them was willing to answer, and it became apparent that they were hiding something. They couldn’t hide their guilt.
“What’s going on?” asked Alma. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Okay.” Stephen put his hands down on the table as if laying out his hand in a card game. “I’m going to be totally honest with you, because you deserve to know everything.”
Alma’s heart started to beat faster and her hands clenched into fists. She was getting angry, and she could feel Paul’s grip tighten on her shoulders. He knew how to recognize when she was getting mad.
“We’re the ones that pushed for you to get the new classroom at your school.”
Alma’s anger subsided, and she felt the tension release from her muscles. “What? I don’t get it. Why would you do that?”
“Well, we knew that we wanted to get to know you better, and we needed a good way to do it. Rachel proposed the story to her network, and they agreed to go along with it. We got the school to sign off on everything, and we set it all up.”
“I thought it was a PTA thing,” said Alma.
“It was,” said Rachel. “Blair was great, and she did most of the work. She and the others really adore you, Alma. They loved the idea of setting you up with a new music room.”
“Then why the subterfuge?” asked Alma. “Why didn’t you just come out and tell me this right away? Why go to all the trouble of setting something like that up? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did! I just don’t understand.”
“I think I do.” Paul spoke with a tinge of anger in his tone. “You said the school signed off on the footage, right?”
Stephen nodded and looked at Rachel as if silently communicating with her. Alma could see that he was nervous, and knew that Paul had figured something out that she hadn’t as of yet.
“And I’m willing to bet that means you own the footage now.
Again, Stephen nodded.
“What does that mean?” asked Alma. “I still don’t get it.”
“He owns his own company,” said Paul. “The station hires him as an independent contractor. When the school signed off on the footage, they were giving him full ownership of it. He can use it for anything he wants, including a story on Widowsfield.”
“But what good would that footage be?” asked Alma. “It was just of me at the school.”
“The piece would look better if we had shots of you,” said Stephen. “We didn’t want to go that route, but we thought it’d be good to have some footage of you, just i
n case. We knew you had been reluctant to talk about Widowsfield in the past, but everything worked out for the best. Honestly, when we approached the station about the story it was a real shot in the dark. We were shocked they agreed to it. But it couldn’t have turned out better. We were able to help pay for a new music room, and we got a chance to meet you.”
Paul was quick to intercede. “And you dragged her father into this. And you nearly got her killed last night when her father showed up at her apartment.”
“Oh my God,” said Rachel. “You didn’t tell me about that. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” Alma was anxious to avoid the subject. She’d lied to Rachel about what happened to her foot as she limped around all day, and didn’t feel like admitting to that now.
“She’s too nice to be mad,” said Paul. “But I’m not. You two put her through hell for this. Her dad is a nutcase, and he’s going to do anything he can to keep your story from getting out there.”
“Paul, it’s okay,” said Alma.
“No, Alma, it’s not okay,” said Paul. “These two pulled some shady shit here. They put you in danger. They…”
“Paul,” said Alma as she pulled her shoulders out of his grip. “I can defend myself. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”
He looked like she’d struck him, pained and ashamed.
“This is getting out of hand.” Stephen stood up and walked over to Alma. He set his hand on Paul’s shoulder, which was an oddly intimate action and Alma saw that it made Paul uncomfortable. “Paul, honestly, I never meant any harm. I swear, man. You guys have been great, and if I did anything to upset you, I’m sorry for it. I’ll help out with your insane dad any way I can.”
“It’s okay, Stephen,” said Alma and she reached out to take Paul’s hand. She guided it back to her shoulder, and then around her neck as she kissed it. “Paul, sorry I snapped at you.”
“It’s okay, babe,” said Paul. “This has been a hell of a day.”
“So, where were we?” asked Alma.
Rachel looked at her pad of paper and said, “Chaos Magick.”
“Oh, right,” said Alma. “How did you know about that?”
“Your father told us about it,” said Stephen as he returned to his seat. “He said that your mother approached him about it.”
“Really?” asked Alma. “I didn’t know about that.” Stephen’s knowledge of her past made her uncomfortable.
“They were already separated at the time,” said Stephen. “But your mother was obsessed with your brother’s disappearance, and the number 314. She wanted the address of the cabin, and she begged your father to spend some time with her, meditating on the symbol for pi in an attempt to remember something about your brother. He refused, and asked her not to force the Chaos Magick on you.”
“He doesn’t want me to remember what happened,” said Alma. “That’s why I’m going with you. Whatever it was that happened, I need to know. My mother lost her mind, no doubt about that, but she was right about that damn number.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Rachel. “Are you saying that this Chaos Magick stuff really worked?”
“It did for me,” said Alma.
“See.” Stephen gloated.
Rachel was unconvinced. “I’m the skeptic of the relationship. It’s hard for me to believe in that sort of stuff.”
“Same here,” said Alma. “And it very well could’ve been just some mental block for me that I got past when we went to Widowsfield. I’m not saying the Chaos Magick was the reason I remembered everything, but it’s true that I was looking at the symbol for pi when, all of the sudden, all of my memories of Ben came rushing back.”
“I guess that makes sense,” said Rachel. “It probably had more to do with being in that spot, and actively trying to remember.”
Stephen chuckled and shook his head. “Or it could be that there’s something to this whole Chaos Magick thing.” He rolled his eyes and pointed at Rachel with his thumb. “She’s never willing to believe anything; a consummate atheist about everything.”
“I’m a skeptic,” said Rachel. “Isn’t that why you married me?”
Stephen shook his head. “I married you because you’re super hot.”
Jacker set his empty beer glass down hard, which rattled the table. He looked embarrassed and apologized.
“More beer!” Stephen exclaimed as he stood. “That’s what this party needs. Who needs another?”
“Everyone,” said Paul before quickly pounding the rest of his beer.
“Okay, enough shop talk.” Rachel set her pencil down and stared across the table at Alma. “Time for war, my little Scrabble victim.”
“Oh crap,” said Stephen with a dejected sigh. “Once she starts, she’ll never stop. Might as well wave goodbye to the girls for the night.”
Rachel was quick to produce an expensive looking Scrabble board that was made of wood and perched on a swiveling base. She told Alma it was a wedding gift, which Stephen said was the worst gift they received, even worse than the bread maker that they’d never used. Rachel flipped over the page that she’d been taking notes on and drew two columns to tabulate points. Within minutes, they were deep into their first game.
Paul, Jacker, and Stephen spent some time in the kitchen, drinking and talking about motorcycles while Alma focused on the game. By the fifth turn, she was already losing by a good amount, which forced her to concentrate. Paul tried to ask her something, but she angrily waved him away and hushed him as she stared at her letters.
“Geeze, babe,” said Paul. “Don’t be grumpy.” He leered over Alma’s shoulder, and she clenched her jaw as she tried to will him away.
Then he reached out and took one of the letters off the wooden stand where they were perched.
“Hey,” said Rachel. “No helping.”
Alma turned, frustrated with Paul for interfering. He’d taken a letter ‘C’ off her stand, and then he reached down and took an ‘A’.
“What are you doing?” Alma asked, annoyed.
Paul pointed at the pad of paper that Rachel was keeping score on. “Give me that real quick.”
Rachel slid the pad over and then Paul asked for the pencil as well. She shrugged and frowned at Alma before rolling the pencil across the table. “What’s up?” she asked.
Paul set the letter ‘C’ down first, and then the ‘A’. He pointed at the numbers on the corner of the tiles, a 3 and a 1. “The third letter in the alphabet is ‘C’, and the first is ‘A’, the fourth is ‘D’. What’s the number for pi?”
“314,” said Jacker.
“I know that, dumbass,” said Paul. “I mean after that. Keep going.” He started to write the alphabet down on the pad of paper, and then wrote numbers in sequence below the letters.
“Hold on,” said Stephen as he picked up his cell phone from a table in the living room. He used the smart phone to go online and look up a longer sequence for pi. “3.141592.”
Paul interrupted Stephen as he scribbled letters on the pad. “That’s all I need. Look at this shit.” He dropped his pencil down and stepped back from the table with his hand over his mouth. He had an expression of satisfaction and surprise, as if he was startled by the simple, nonsensical word he’d written on the pad above the sequence of pi.
Cada E.I.B.
Stephen looked at the word and gasped. “Holy fucking shit.”
“That’s a company based out of Widowsfield,” Paul explained to Alma, who was still confused. “Its name is code for pi.”