Chapter 14
The Mexican restaurant was acceptable. Omar felt replete and satisfied with his little congratulatory celebration, which included several neat shots of Tequila, but the food was rich, so he decided to walk back to the clinic. He hadn’t done his regular vigorous routine to stay in shape he’d been so busy in the last few days. Arranging a marriage. Arranging for Feng to take his place in Hawaii. And most importantly, initiating the process that would give him his his freedom and a legacy of supernaturally gifted children to follow in his footsteps. His mood continued to be pleased and elated as he walked briskly along. Things were going superbly.
With enough children to spread his teachings, he would be a significant legend, even after his death. A dynasty would be created. Money was no problem; the first half of his life had been dedicated to making a fortune, and he had accumulated enough to last several lifetimes. Now he would hold and grasp what he most desired and felt was his own individual destiny; real power.
He envisioned his children as leaders in business, finance, and politics. They would take over for him and care for him when he got older. Surely, he would never be one of the pathetic, dead and forgotten, vanished from history. No, his influence would last forever.
It hadn’t been easy to arrange it all, but much of his scheming was achieved at leisure; he’d had lots of time to make plans in prison. The marriage to Michelle had been a spectacular success, and also a necessity for the future.
A wife could not be induced to testify against her own husband in a court of law. All he had to worry about at his upcoming trial in Hawaii was Professor Vincent Middleton, and he was reputed to be a drunk. Omar had forced alcohol down his throat and left him on the beach to die a couple of weeks ago, when Vincent had gone to watch one of Omar’s Wiccan ceremonies.
The professor hadn’t died that night, but now he was a severely damaged witness. Omar’s lawyers had lined up the two policemen who threw Vincent in the Waikiki drunk tank later that night, puking his guts out and totally incoherent.
Even Vincent’s professional status, as a university professor, could not overcome the damage. Besides, he was an instructor in a field that was also regarded with major skepticism and profound disbelief; a professor of the paranormal.
As Omar sauntered along, he decided with finality that he wouldn’t have to flee, disappear before the trial, as he had contemplated doing when he got out on bail. He had lined up many of his cult and Wiccan followers, especially those addicted to his herbal/drug potions who would lie, testifying that he was someplace else when Michelle and the professor stated they were dumped into the ocean off the island of Kauai; left to flounder and drown in the ocean.
Those poor addicted souls would fib in his defense; they didn’t want to lose their source of drugs. Luckily, Omar had addicted quite a few in Hawaii who would be bereft if he was in prison and they couldn’t get their addiction attended to.
It was true, he had dropped Michelle and Vincent Middleton in the sea from his helicopter, but there were no witnesses to the allegation of ‘attempted murder.’ The reason he did it was to give Michelle her last two tests to prove her worthy of being the mother of his children, a woman who was a natural witch, with amazing paranormal abilities.
Omar had devised three tests to prove that Michelle was strong enough, and gifted genetically and supernaturally, for this mission; the female genetic contributor for his children. The trials were challenging enough to devastate or kill a lessor woman. They were legendary in witch lore. She had passed the ‘Trial-by-Sword’ when Samson raped her. She only became stronger.
The endurance ‘Trial-by-Water’ she passed, and then exceeded his expectations, when she pulled the professor miles through the ocean to shore. Last was the Trial-by-Fire. She qualified in that regard as well when she broke free from his chants, charms, and hypnotic spells.
Omar felt certain the combination of his own supernatural gifts; necromancy, mesmerism, control of EMF electricity, and those powers that Michelle possessed would produce children with unusual paranormal abilities.
His own children would be the next step in the evolution of mankind. His genetic engineering would produce super-humans with their supernatural abilities. Omar’s fabulous progeny.
The added bonus he had planned when he dropped Michelle and Vincent into the ocean was to finally get rid of that damned, dogged professor, who had followed him for years, trying to prove Omar was an evil charlatan. Michelle had ruined that plan by towing the professor through the ocean to the island of Kauai, but now it didn’t matter that his second plan to do away with the professor had backfired.
Now he would make sure that Michelle wouldn’t testify in his trial, and the professor’s word was destroyed by the rumors that he was a drunk. A slam dunk that he’d be out of prison and free to pursue numerous pleasures.
There was the future problem of Michelle to consider, though, Omar thought, as he sauntered along the dark street. He hadn’t realized she would need medication to ensure that he could procure all of her ovum. He’d have to keep her severely isolated and under heavy medication. She was a spectacular woman, with psychic gifts that hadn’t yet been fully realized. Omar believed she had healing powers and was a born natural witch. She had demonstrated the ability to see into the future. She’d even managed to incapacitate and disable him for a short while; an amazing feat without prior training as a witch. He didn’t relish the thought of making her disappear; such a waste of valuable talent.
The wedding between the two of them on the Waikiki Beach the night before, a public record, would lead investigators right back to Omar when her family, friends and co-workers finally realized she was actually missing. It was a conundrum. Eventually he would have to invent a tragic accident.
He turned off the darkened street, lit only by ornate lamps every block or so, onto the path leading to the medical clinic. Omar planned to check up on Michelle and Leilanie and then go to sleep. But as he did so he saw several people standing at the door to the medical facility.
Omar knew his mind was playing tricks on him because he’d just been thinking of Professor Vincent Middleton and the man he saw at the clinic door resembled him; the beard, short chunky body, the way he carried himself, a little bent forward.
It couldn’t be. But Omar cautiously sneaked behind one of the trees lining the path to the clinic. He paused a moment and then, cautiously as a predatory snake, moved his head slowly around the tree trunk so he could take an anonymous peek at the man.
What he observed was impossible. It couldn’t be true. He blinked several times to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him. How could anyone follow him all the way to Mexico in this short amount of time?
On closer inspection it was clear. The man standing at the door definitely was Professor Vincent Middleton. And with him was Rod Nakamura, the man Michelle proclaimed that she loved. Accompanying them was Michelle’s best friend, Heather, and that weather reporter from Hawaii, Mike Kapahu.
Omar could feel anger and rage building, his power accumulating and coalescing as he stared at the improbable group, carrying balloons and flowers, who were now entering the clinic. This could not be allowed. He would not have his careful plans thwarted. It could not be tolerated. His head was raging with anger.
He watched them through the glass doors, like observing fish swimming in a brightly lit tank. They couldn’t see him in the darkness, outside the clinic, and he moved from behind the tree, gathering his strength.
He watched as Dr. Franz came out of an elevator and went over to the four people in the lobby. The doctor talked to them for some time, evidently giving the news that Omar had forbade Michelle visitors. Omar felt a certain amount of pleasure that the four would be thwarted in their mission. Then an odd thing occurred.
Dr. Franz and the weatherman, Mike, left the others and went to the elevators. Omar could see the lights blinking up the floors. They were heading to the floor where Michelle and Leilanie were in patient rooms. Why would the doctor be taking that weather-prediction guy up there? Omar wondered. It was very strange.
Omar lifted his left arm, one finger pointing upward, and he made a circle with that finger. Nothing happened and he frowned. He had to cause chaos right now, but realized his celebratory Tequila at dinner this evening was messing with his abilities. He took several deep breaths and tried again.
Immediately, the trees around him shed bright green leaves in the wind that was generated around the magician. The electric street light closest to him sizzled, popped, and then went dark.
Omar opened up his keen sensor, the part of his brain that was attuned to electrical energy of any kind. Each person is like a little power generator, and Omar knew how to use this extraordinary sense of his. He felt the humming of electricity throughout his body, heard it as well, like a tiny high buzzing shriek; he even saw the tiny beaming lights, like squiggly glow-worms, that were traces of the bright molecules as they moved around frantically in the clinic that was so brightly lit up inside.
He located the electrical wires that circulated throughout the medical clinic. They formed a glowing grid throughout each floor of the whole building. He shut them down.
The whole building went totally black, all the light winked out, except for the people inside, whom he could see because each person is made up of energy. Electrical energy. He looked up at the tenth floor, where some patient rooms were located. There he could see the room where Michelle was located by the bright aura that surrounded her. He frowned. She was moving.
The lights in the whole clinic went on again, but Omar found the source, an electrical generator behind the clinic that was glowing with power. He projected his own powerful force, and shut it down. Again, the fertility clinic was without any light. He could hardly see the building, even from about twenty yards away.
He had a horrible thought. If the power stayed off long enough Michelle’s precious eggs would be destroyed. The refrigeration system had gone off along with the lights.
***
The elevator lurched abruptly and then stopped so fast that Dr. Franz fell down. Mike managed to grab the waist high hand-bar at the side of the elevator and was able to stay on his feet, but he felt disoriented because he couldn’t see anything. When the elevator abruptly halted the lights also went out.
“Are you okay,” Mike asked, wondering where the doctor was. He felt around with his hands and finally located the doctor’s shoulder near the floor and hauled him up to a standing position.
“Yeah. That’s strange,” Dr. Franz said. “Must be some kind of electrical short. It won’t be long. We have back-up generators that will kick in in about thirty seconds.”
They stood in the dark and waited. Finally, after what seemed like an inordinately long time, the lights went on and the elevator gave a sickening wobble and started going up again.
Luckily, Mike wasn’t taking any chances. He had held on to the hand bar that went around the elevator. There was another lurching jerk, the lights went out again, and the elevator stopped between floors.
From the thump he’d heard, he knew Dr. Franz was on the floor once more, and he pulled him to his feet for a second time. He was thinking that doctors don’t get to exercise much and maybe they don’t have very good balance. His was superb from all the surfing he had done throughout his lifetime and when he’d felt a strange movement in the elevator his knees automatically bent to take the jolt and keep him upright. Still, he found the blackness in the elevator disconcerting.
Dr. Franz was patting the wall and found the elevator emergency phone in a panel that he opened up. “I’ll just contact the staff that we’re stuck in here,” he said reassuringly to Mike, but when he tried to use the phone, it too was dead.
***
When the clinic went dark, Heather murmured, “Oh no. Omar’s here. I think he knows we’re here, too.”
She stood up, and felt the hairs on her arms stand straight up. Her heart did a little lurch, the blackout was so unexpected. Heather felt inside her purse to find her cell phone. It would provide a little light in the blackness.
Rod was on his feet and he put his arms protectively around her. On her other side, Professor Middleton did the same. She was the cream inside the cookie; the two men’s protective instincts squashing her, but it also felt welcome. She didn’t want to admit she was scared.
“Heather, are you okay?” It was Rod who had whispered.
It’s strange that everyone always whispers in the dark, Heather thought. “Yeah, but I’m afraid Omar’s starting an attack.”
She managed to click open her cell phone. She looked up and saw Rod and the professor. It must be the light from the cell phone, she thought. Both of their faces looked unnaturally white.
Then the lights blinked on again.
Heather sighed with relief and the pretty blond woman behind the desk called out to them, “No problem, folks. Our clinic has generators in case of an electrical blackout in the area.”
The lights went out again. This time they stayed out.
“Gosh, I hope Mike isn’t stuck in the elevator,” Heather said after waiting for a while for the lights to turn on again.
“There must be some stairs we can climb to find him,” Rod said.
“Good thinking,” Professor Middleton said. Heather saw him wink at her in the glow of her cell phone. He was probably thinking the same thing she was. They could use this blackout to go find Michelle.