April 3, 2016
Seattle, Washington

In many ways, Alex Moore was the spitting image of his uncle. Like Adam, he was tall, large-boned, and muscular—but instead of red hair he had long, jet-black, dreadlock extensions.

He gently closed the massive door of the isolation chamber. It was designed for PSI experiments by one of the world’s leading paranormal investigators, Patrick Rhodes. Its two-foot-thick lead walls were impervious to all known electromagnetic radiation, sound, and bioenergetic fields.

To an outside observer Alex could be described as possessing the sort of presence that would draw the attention of every person in a crowd. He briefly scanned the empty room that acted as a gateway to the chamber, and then opened the second door.

Looking out the window with his feet up on the desk was a bespectacled young man dressed in a t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and sneakers. A mop of brown hair stuck out in all directions. He had a two-day growth of beard that covered his narrow face in dark brown patches.

Alex said, “Not long now.”

Rhodes looked away from the window and the rain clouds enveloping Seattle’s downtown landscape. He pushed horn-rimmed glasses up his long nose. “Can I go in the chamber?” He asked with reverence in his voice.

“Of course.” Alex smiled. “I’m going for some coffee.”