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

to look a little fuzzy. The duck pond was more an ink stain that bled into the surrounding bank. The trees multiplied and bubbled out. Disgusted, she pulled her glasses off and without thinking faced her parents.
    They were only sitting ten feet away but they too were blurry now. Without her glasses their faces held no detail anymore. If she had just walked into the room, she would have no way of knowing what they were feeling. And the crippling fear of losing her sight came flooding back. She would be dead soon, but before that happened, she would be totally helpless.
    “I’m going to stay,” she said. “I have to.”
    She couldn’t see their faces but didn’t have to. Dad hung his head and Mom wiped under her eyes. Her decision to stay and continue with the research project had disappointed them, and that had made her feel…happy?
    “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling sorry and not feeling sorry. “But I have to do this. Don’t you see?”
    “See what, sweety?” Dad asked, his voice airy. She could hear the hope in it. The naïve optimism that she would change her mind and just come home.
    “There has to be a point…to all this. I can’t die just thinking…there was nothing.”
    “Honey—”
    “Don’t, Dad. Stop lying to me.”
    He held out his palm and looked down. That much she could see without her glasses.

Fourteen
     
    Manetti left and one of the nurses took me to the third floor, where Dr. Zane was meeting with three other Ph.D.-looking types. The Indian woman from earlier, still in her lab coat. Another woman with short salt-and-pepper hair. And a twenty-something guy trying to look cool at work, sporting weather-inappropriate garb: shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and sandals.
    Zane stopped mid-sentence when I barreled into the room. “We’re having a meeting.”
    “And I’ve got clearance.” I winked. “Don’t worry. Most of what you’ll say will go right over my head.”
    Zane studied me skeptically for a moment. “Anyway, the results so far have been promising but only across a handful of subjects. Let’s increase their subliminal exposure.”
    The other doctors were all taking notes on tablets. Hawaiian Shirt Guy looked up.
    “I had an idea.”
    Zane didn’t sigh, but he almost did. “Yes?”
    The doctors spoke in jargon for a few minutes. I lost interest in the conversation quickly, unable to follow the technical terms. Suddenly, Zane’s head snapped around like he’d just remembered I was there.
    I shrugged. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Let’s take this up later.” Zane looked back at his colleagues. “This afternoon. Block out an hour. Tell nobody.”
    The other researchers got up and left, giving me a wide berth as they passed. When they were gone, I eased the conference room door shut behind me.
    “Exciting research,” I said.
    “Yes.” I had a feeling if I pried too much, Zane’s answers would be shorter than tweets.
    I tried to put him at ease. “Look, doc, I’m just an ordinary guy. Whatever I learn here, I won’t be able to make a damned bit of use of.”
    “Mr. McCloskey—”
    “Call me Eddie.”
    “Eddie.” There was nothing friendly about his smile. “I’m not worried about you, but about whom you might share our research with.”
    “Nobody.”
    Zane spoke as if he hadn’t heard me. “I have spent my entire career, twenty-five plus years of education and research, building up to this moment. We are close to unlocking the biggest secrets of the human brain and, at this pace, unleashing its fullest potential in possibly my lifetime. Our lifetime. Do you have any idea how much that is worth?”
    “Nope.” I shrugged. “I’m not here about that. Do you trust Manetti?”
    “I trust her because there are very real consequences to her actions if she decides to divulge anything. A security breach like this by a federal agent means a lengthy jail sentence. You aren’t a federal agent—it’s my understanding you’re just a contractor. ”