Chapter 4: Parrish the Thought
I'm pretty sure it was the vodka that did it. How else could I explain waking up locked in the cellar of the house I grew up in before I was even born? Obviously, I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.
However it happened didn't matter much now. The last thing I remembered was stumbling out of the cab with Merle lighting into me about things like tesseracts, black holes, and giant brains bent on destroying the earth. (And I thought I sounded like a git arguing Einstein.) We'd reached the parrish gates, and then-- well, I have no earthly idea.
Squinting through my liquor induced haze I made out my surroundings. The smell was the first thing that gave it away. The walls lined with empty bottles, yellowing magazines, and a mysterious hubcap were the next clues. Everything was how I remembered it, all except for Merle. He wasn't anywhere in sight, and I couldn't feel his presence, his vibration, within the twenty mile radius.
Seeing as how our vibrations we give off are not only how we identify ourselves, but also how we keep track of one another. It's essential to hone in on your partner's energy. The good news is that the longer you work together the stronger your bond. Teams who have been in this business for ages can hear the others heart beat across the earth. Merle and I hadn't quite got there yet, the best we could manage was about twenty miles. I try, but the old man can be a bit of an infantile pillock.