Mad Powers (Tapped In) Read Online Free Page B

located the door marked Mechanical. I just stood there in front of the door, hoping it would be unlocked.
    With a quick check of the knob, I found it was indeed locked. How do I get in? Then I remembered Jill had mentioned a broom closet. I shuffled down the corridor and found the door labeled Utility Closet. Luckily, this door was unlocked, so I let myself in, closed the door and, after searching in the dark for a few seconds, found the light switch. Just as I’d hoped—several rows of keys hung from little metal hooks screwed onto a plywood plank. Someone, presumably the maintenance person, had nicely handwritten the various names of rooms the keys belonged to. Here we go … Second row, third one over—the MECH ROOM key … I snatched it up and let myself back out to the corridor.
    I made my way back to the room. Someone was coming. I could hear low murmurs of a distant conversation getting closer. I inserted the key. Crap! Upside-down. The voices were mere feet away now from just around the corner. I tried the key again and the knob turned. Two nurses came into sight before I had a chance to duck inside, but, fortunately, they made a right turn down the opposite hallway and didn’t see me. Once inside I really didn’t know what I was looking for. Earlier, when walking with Jill, I had felt the pull … the undeniable hunger to reconnect with whatever I had tapped into on that accident-scarred highway three days ago. Even now, standing several feet from the large metal breaker cabinets, I could feel the energy.
    The song was there again, just faintly, but there just the same. The room was covered with wall-to-wall long gray metal breaker cabinets. One cabinet in particular was bigger, and the words High Voltage were stenciled above it. I found the release lever and pulled open the panel. My mind flooded, bonded, and merged with the energy. I needed more. I stepped in closer to the cabinet, letting my face come forward closer still. I rested my forehead against the cool metal surface and tapped in. The music filled my consciousness. It was like coming home, and then, just as quickly, I was spiraling up to new levels of consciousness; others were there with me—connecting to me at a personal, intimate level.
     
    * * *
     
    The police arrived in the morning. Two of them, both black and both all business. Like twins, they wore dark gray suits, white shirts, and thin, striped ties. One tie had blue and yellow stripes; the other one was blue and maroon. The only other discernible difference was that the cop closest to me, surprisingly, had light hazel eyes. They flashed me their badges and got right down to business. Hazel-eyes spoke first: “I’m Detective Whittier, and this is my partner, Detective Barns. Would it be all right if we asked you a few questions about the accident?”
    “Sure, go for it,” I replied without enthusiasm. I knew exactly what was on Whittier’s mind. My late night visit to the High Voltage Mechanical room had reignited my mind-reading capabilities again. Whittier was convinced I not only fell asleep at the wheel, but had also been drinking. He was angry, at a personal level — for reasons I hadn’t deciphered yet. He had every intention of bringing me to justice—at the minimum, for vehicular manslaughter. Meanwhile his partner Barns, on the other hand, was primarily thinking about a woman named Bambi. Apparently, when not swinging from a pole at Jerry’s All Nude Girls, Bambi wasn’t adverse to bumping and grinding in the back of his 2008 Chevy Malibu.
    “What can you tell us about the accident that occurred on Arizona State Highway Route 60, near Kingman, three days ago?”
    “Only that I woke up hugging a telephone pole and later witnessed a big rig careen into another car right in front of me. I really don’t remember anything prior to the accident. Although, I think my name may be Rob, if that helps …”
    “Don't you think it’s awfully convenient … you suffering from