We, The Hidden (Book 1) The Race Within

By Terry LaBarba

"When we are ready, they will come."

A planetary shift of consciousness is happening and many find themselves on a path of enlightenment. But sometimes paths collide.

British poet, Tolan Nichols, has a special gift for the world and is on the verge of finding that out. As a boy, he had a strange encounter in the woods with a beautiful shaman, but he only retains a partial memory of the event. Over twenty years later, she contacts him in his dream state and he is compelled to find her. His quest is detained by a pretty and eccentric female who has her own intentions for him. One woman has his purpose, the other holds his heart.

Ex Special Forces, Benson Palmer, heads a secret DNA investigation of the birthing of Indigo Children into our population, but one thing steals his focus. He finds out that an ex-girlfriend had given birth to his daughter four years ago. Both have disappeared and the search leads him to an adversary that no military training has prepared him for.

Amateur astronomer, Gordon Leake, watches the night sky for UFOs hoping to find the truth that is out there, but by connecting the dots with an enigmatic acquaintance, he is on the trail of a new discovery that is much closer to home: descendents of ancient Lemurians beneath Mt. Shasta.

They combine uncanny skills on a mission that leads them to an unpredictable outcome, costing them what they each hold precious.

As the first book in the We, The Hidden series, which is based on a current legend, The Race Within introduces a cast of unforgettable characters who show us how amazing discoveries can come when we follow the signs and synchronicities that are presented to us.

"Fiction worth reading! My type of action story for the 'enlightened'" -B.K. Barrett (Amazon reviewer)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terry LaBarba
• Release date: Dec 16, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465955487

Terry LaBarba

Terry LaBarba learned she could entertain through creative writing when she was a sixth grader and her class gave a round of applause after she read aloud a humorous story that she put together using the twenty spelling words for the week. Much later, with a creative streak unleashed, she wrote screenplays around premises she would like to see on screen with her favorite actors. The scripts became novels and her studies became metaphysical, always interested in new methods for healing the mind, body and spirit. With intuitive skills and a quest for better healing results, she left her training in the medical field for energy medicine and the ancient, shamanic practice of Huna. The search for health and well being brought her back to creative writing, where she shares what she’s learned within her fiction. Terry practices hypnosis, reiki and various Hawaiian, shamanic skills. Born and reared in Texas, Terry now lives in Dallas, Texas, where she is currently working on her fourth book of the We, The Hidden series. Understanding the potential of inspired fiction, not only does she want to entertain with her writing, she plans to reveal.

Book preview

Chapter 1

San Diego, California – 1990s

Tolan Nichols journeyed through an alternate reality. Shamans call it the dreamtime, but he knew it as an unintended visit to the past. While he slept, his eyelids moved with the images that a remote part of him watched. His black cat named Annie, sat on his chest, intently watching him. She knew it wasn’t just any dream…

The shamaness dances around the campfire, her long, multi-hued hair sparks to life in the flickering light. Smoke billows away from her. The beaded fringe of her skirt clinks as she swirls. She stills and waits. The fire blazes higher, signaling his arrival.

He approaches her from behind, and stands there due to his summons. He is mesmerized by the flickering highlights of her hair. She turns to face him, happy that her efforts have paid off, but he suddenly has become a boy of ten again, with eyes wide, taking in the sight of the lovely, mystical woman. She bends down to his level and sends him a message with her unique eyes.

Tolan’s body jerked as he opened his eyes. He looked around, transitioning from no longer being a child in the woods. His awareness was back to his studio apartment.

Annie jumped to his bedside table and claimed the spot on top of his dream journal, guarding it from him.

He threw back the star patterned, patchwork quilt that his great-grandmother had sewn, and blindly fumbled for the spiral notebook that he kept near. Instead, his hand grabbed on to a warm mass of fur. The cat let out a meow of protest.

Tolan withdrew his hand, causing his touch-on lamp to offer its light, just from the nearness of his fingers. "Come on Annie, get off."

Aqua colored cat eyes looked back at him from under the distinguishing mark on her forehead, which was a white patch of fur in the shape of an inverted triangle. She wouldn’t budge. Tolan pulled on the notebook and the cat leapt to the hardwood floor.

As he took the pen from the spiral binding he willed himself to remember his dream. He sifted through many pages of barely legible markings that summed up his nocturnal messages and found a place for the new entry. It’s not every dream he cared about, only the ones with the shamaness.

He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair, lay against the propped up pillows, took a deep breath and opened his eyes wider to see as he wrote. Annie jumped onto the bed and rubbed up against him as he thought.

Try to remember. What was different this time? It was her eyes. He closed his eyes to see from an inner source. She had one green eye and the other was brown. Beautiful, he whispered. His own bright hazel eyes danced around as he recalled the dream about the mysterious woman.

Tolan wrote as fast as he could and then remained in the emotion of the vision that was inspired by his chance meeting when he was ten years old. That was the day that confirmed his belief in magic, the day he saw the Angel Woman, as he named her. She must now look twenty years older, he thought. Would he recognize her if he ever saw her again or would she even know who he was? His eyes reacted to the realization of the summation of her message. She wants me to find her.

He glanced at his bedside clock and saw that it was 4:30 am. With a frustrated sigh he beat his pillow into a shape he could approve of then sunk his head into it. But sleep didn’t come.

He went to his computer and sent an email to his friend Gordon, reading: I’ve had the dream again. Please meet me at the library today to talk. I can’t go to work like this.

Once he was settled back into bed and under his covers he closed his eyes, hoping to recapture the image of her unusual eyes.

* * *

Corina Davis sat in the van’s passenger seat that was backed into the darkest corner of an apartment complex parking lot, for a reason. Her one green, one brown, colored eyes squinted to see through the darkly tinted windows.

Too bad some of your excellent night vision didn’t rub off on me. I can’t see a thing, she said, speaking with a fine British accent.

You rely on me too much, Mother, Wayne Davis said from the driver seat, matching her accent.

You’ll be rewarded for this someday.

Unless one of these brats ends up serving in my army or becomes a fertile wife, I expect nothing. This baby saving is all your idea, no one else’s. He looked at his so called partner in crime, with her usually voluminous hair tucked beneath a black knit hat, wearing a black sweater and pants. She could be a burglar, hardly the English lady that night. There’s no one here yet. Are you sure this is the right drop point?

Positive. What’s the matter, in a hurry to get back to the latest member of your harem? She watched his face for his reaction but he gave none. As cruel as he could be, he did have striking good looks with his dark curly hair and attractive eyes; eyes with a persuasive power which made it too easy for him to lead the females astray.

As a matter of fact, there is a lovely, new devotee awaiting my return.

Really Wayne, I wish you could be a better example to Marcus.

Everything is about Marcus!

Please keep your voice down. She looked around nervously.

You never give me credit for my own future.

It was his plan for the future that worried her.

I’ll surprise you all.

You already have, much to my disgrace.

So you keep reminding me, he replied to her thought.

Siring Marcus is a huge contribution.

Oh, I plan to be known for much more than that.

Let’s not go into that now.

A car passed by and Corina sunk a little lower in the seat. She noticed Wayne wasn’t too concerned who might see him.

He picked up on her assessment of his carefree attitude. As long as I have been able to drive, I’ve helped you with your little mission. I’m capable of handling any situation that arises. He re-thought his harsh tone, knowing that arguing could upset her state of mind, preventing some vital information from coming to her that could delay them even longer. He sighed. Relax and tap into the baby.

Corina closed her eyes and centered herself with several deep breaths and then got the images.

After a moment he asked, What’s happening with him now?

He’s been wrapped in a sheet and the mother is driving around looking for a dump site where no one is around. She’s crying.

Oh, one with a conscience.

I can use a little compulsion to bring her in, she said in a voice so soft that an average person would not have been able to hear.

How well you condone the use of my abilities when it suits you. After a span of silence, What is the mother’s name?

Corina followed her method for telepathically receiving information and after a brief moment she whispered, Jessica.

Wayne closed his eyes and mouthed the name.

Corina watched his face as he quietly did what came a little too easy; he drew a female to him.

He opened his eyes and noticed movement. We’ve got company at the dumpster. But she’s making a withdrawal, not a deposit.

Corina peeked out the window in vain. It was still too dark for her to make out what was going on.

It’s not them. Some old hag is going through the trash. She grabbed the cushion you planted.

Corina closed her eyes and made a swirling motion with her right hand which caused a new, localized wind to blow the sofa cushion back into the dumpster. The wind increased until it was hard for the weathered woman to stand in front of the bin. She fought against its force, one hand holding on to the trash bin the other…

She’s got the cushion again.

Do something!

What would you have me do?

Get rid of her and return it. In a safe way, please.

Wayne looked on and mimicked a crawly creature with his hand.

The woman at the dumpster saw an illusion of five tarantulas scurrying across the cushion. Her eyes widened and then she threw it back in and shuffled away cursing.

Wayne watched the woman until she was out of sight. She won’t be back.

Corina finally took in a breath. Thank you.

What was that you said? You almost sound grateful.

I do appreciate you, Wayne. Without you I—

A car just pulled up to the dumpster.

Yes, it’s him.

Wayne watched a young woman leave the driver seat and place something that was rolled up in a sheet into the filthy bin. She got in her car and slowly drove away, never realizing there were witnesses to her crime.

Has she left? Corina asked.

Yes.

Corina opened the door to the van and looked toward the pickup site. She froze, seeing a man walking to the dumpster with two heavy trash bags. She could hear glass bottles clanging together from within them.

Wayne! Corina called out. Don’t let him hurt the baby.

You really owe me now, Wayne told her, seemingly unconcerned that a man was throwing bags in the top of the dumpster.

Crouched down by the side of the van, she watched in horror. The bags were tossed and the sound of breaking glass caused her to gasp. She looked to Wayne.

He was motionless. His eyes stared straight ahead. It was a look that had always troubled her under other circumstances. That night she was glad for it.

After the man walked away from the dumpster she made her way to the bin with quick steps, while she pushed back her fear. Corina peeked through the dumpster’s sliding, side door and saw two trash bags hovering in the air, inches from the wrapped up sheet lying on the cushion. She exhaled in relief.

Thank you again, dear, she thought to her son. She reached in to pick up the bundle from under the levitating bags.

Corina pulled back the sheet and revealed an infant’s face. He was warm and once again she was in time. She clutched the tiny body to her chest and hurried to the van, hearing the trash bags land as Wayne released them with a thought.

Once she was in the van, Wayne drove away and looked for a safe place to pull over for Corina to assess its immediate needs.

In the back of the van, surrounded by medical equipment, she lightly touched the baby’s chest and intuitively knew that the infant was physically sound.

Wayne held his breath waiting for his mother’s appraisal. The babe started up a hearty cry so loud it overpowered Wayne’s sigh of relief.

But Corina still heard it.

Yes, that’s it, she said rocking the babe, cry all you want to. You will soon be amongst the ones who will want you. Corina brought a bottle of a milky solution to the infant’s mouth. The little one latched on to the rubber nipple and suckled with fervor. This will have to do until we can get you to a wet nurse at your special new home.

Wayne pulled the van back onto the road.

If I only had half the talent you do…

What would you do, Mother, draw your dashing young apprentice straight to your door? His words were thick with old resentment.

Corina lifted her chin a level knowing that’s exactly what she would do. It seemed that the patient path was not working fast enough and she sensed someone else competing with her for Tolan. She would have to throw him some less subtle hints and create a more direct trail.

Tolan and I have history together and pre-incarnation agreements. You need to accept that.

He turned his face away from her.

His conscious dreamtime connection is progressing, Wayne. He will come to me.

He looked her in the eyes. I’ll kill him if he does.

* * *

Gordon Leake sat across from Tolan at a library table and leaned in so he could hear his words. Although he had known Tolan for a couple of years, he sometimes had to strain to understand his British accent. That along with the soothing quality of Tolan’s voice left no wonder why the nursing home residents would calm down in his presence.

I’m getting closer, like labor pains soon to birth the answer that I’ve sought for the last year.

What’s the question? Gordon asked.

That, I don’t know but the woman must be a link.

As Tolan confided, Gordon’s eyes wandered to the two young ladies sitting at another table. And again, it wasn’t him they were looking back at. He knew Tolan couldn’t help it if female eyes preferred him. Sure, Gordon was nice looking and Tolan often told him he would look even better without his heavy rimmed glasses but still it was Tolan who drew in more ladies than he cared to with his dark, brooding, good looks.

Unlike him, Tolan had the look of the intense sensitive who sometimes bordered on the bad boy image, with that weekend stubble women love. It would take a lot more than bedroom eyes and a sprouting beard to put him in that category. He was just a smart, nice guy. Surely the brainy women could relate to him. Or better yet, he thought, hot, humanoid female aliens.

And the monkeys ran by with curlers in their hair, Tolan said with a strange matter of fact tone.

What?

You haven’t been listening. Tolan gestured toward the females.

Sure I have. Okay, I did kind of lose the last sentence or two.

I want to know why this dream about her is so important.

The Angel Woman?

Or shamaness, or whoever she was.

And you’re sure your mind as a child didn’t make the memory a little more colorful with your writer’s imagination?

Tolan shifted and exhaled with the same impatience that he felt when his family didn’t believe him either. No. I saw her hand a baby to a man who disappeared into a mountain with it.

Shhh! was the reproach from the head librarian.

Gordon cringed at the sound of the woman. He lowered his voice. Hey man, don’t make Lawless come over here. She’s just plain mean. Okay, so you witnessed something peculiar. Was she pretty?

It’s not that type of dream.

Quit being so defensive. I think you and this lady made some kind of connection.

What?

Gordon knew immediately that Tolan’s response was too loud and what would come next.

Quiet down over there, shot Mrs. Lawless, from a couple rows away. Someone from another table blew a rude noise the librarian’s way and Gordon had to laugh.

"What do you mean connection? I was a child, she was a grown woman."

A karmic or cosmic connection, he whispered.

Oh. I did feel something when our eyes met, like she knew something about me.

See? A connection. Maybe you should do one of those ‘stare into the candle, soul searching’ kinds of meditation. You know… ask a question then blank out your mind to see what you get.

Yes… yes, he nodded as his eyes brightened with the possibilities. If someone’s trying to send me a message I should certainly receive it.

What message?

What?

You just said ‘if someone’s trying to send me a message I should receive it’.

I said that? How strange. Those weren’t even my words.

Not your conscious words, at least. Look at you. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile today.

Tolan sheepishly grinned. In a strange way it feels rather good for someone like the Angel Woman to want to—

connect?

I was going to say communicate.

"Whatever. I still think you’ve got a thing for this lady of your dreams and you can’t admit it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been turning down all the women you do because they don’t measure up to your boyhood fantasy. She was pretty wasn’t she?"

Tolan hesitated as he thought about it then opened up. She was beautiful.

Uh-huh.

I think in each dream she gets even more stunning.

Oh yeah, here we go.

But that is really not the point.

Sure it is.

There is something more important than an infatuation here. There’s a meaning deeper that effects more than me. The whole world, I think.

Gordon tried to read Tolan’s eyes for what his words couldn’t get across. You’ve got to figure out your message, pal. Missing your caregiver job is not in the best interest of keeping a work visa, but then again, when have you ever called in sick?

I’m never sick. I’m taking a mental health day off. Thanks Gordon.

I’ll send you a bill. For now, I’ve got to get back to the planetarium. Those stars won’t shine by themselves. Gordon left him with the advice of a sage, You will get your answers Tolan, even if it comes from an unexpected place.

Chapter 2

Tolan walked to the back of the library and scanned book titles within one aisle. He mumbled to himself as he searched. Messages… signs. Books on meditation.

A female voice, definitely louder than the library’s legal limit, was singing a tune that made its way to his remote area.

Ain’t no mountain high enough…

Tolan knew the rebuke would come any moment.

Ain’t no valley low enough…

He couldn’t figure out why The Law, as Gordon liked to call her, hadn’t stopped her yet.

Ain’t no river wild enough… keep me from you.

He slowly walked toward the unlikely singing. The closer he got, he heard snickers but still no outburst of correction.

She sung louder.

Quiet! This is a library! a male student said in a shrill voice mocking Mrs. Lawless. The snickers got louder along with the singing. Well, I never!

Don’t quit your day job, another called out. Laughter broke out among the students.

Tolan didn’t want to be caught checking out the singer who was now reaching for the high notes in a shrill attempt. He peeked through an eye level shelf where a few books were missing. He could see a can of Shasta root beer sitting on the edge of the singer’s study table. He moved more books out of the way and his eyes found the culprit.

The first thing he noticed was her long, light blond hair sweeping back and forth across her arm as she wrote something down into a spiral notebook. Her singing had stopped but her stereo headset stayed on.

Quirky and beautiful. I like that. Tolan felt a little strange for peeping but there was something compelling about her. A young woman entered his aisle and he quickly grabbed a book and opened it. He pretended to be interested in it until the woman moved on to another area. He peered out from the top of the book watching the blonde as she turned pages and jotted down notes.

She appeared to be about thirty, he thought, a few years younger than he. He looked to her leather boots with blue jeans tucked in them. A motorcycle helmet was in the seat next to her. He couldn’t imagine her delicate frame handling a motorbike. Perhaps she rode there with another or was dropped off.

He looked around for any man that would look like he came with her. There was no one who appeared worthy enough for that lovely creature. Although getting pummeled in a library for spying on some biker’s girlfriend didn’t sound like fun, he knew it would take more than fear of a jealous boyfriend to drag him away from the vantage spot he had.

Now a husband would be a different matter. He looked for marital status on the hand she was writing with. There was an Egyptian ankh ring on her index finger but no wedding ring.

A stocky, middle-aged man approached her table and dropped off an unsealed envelope. She assessed the contents, placed it facedown and pushed a large envelope toward him. He started to say something as if he wanted more from her.

Get lost, she said coldly.

The man respectfully took the packet and walked away. Tolan wondered if she would react to him the same way if he were to approach her. He asked himself why he couldn’t go strike up a conversation, then a poorly understood fear slammed into him. After all, it’s been some time since anyone had motivated him in that direction. He couldn’t put it into words if he tried, and words were his specialty, but there was something gripping about her. While he searched his resolve he heard her speak.

I know you’re there.

Surely she wasn’t talking to him… or was she? Maybe she was repeating what she was listening to. He slowly peeked out from the shelf and noticed she had taken off her stereo headset.

I can feel you watching me.

He jerked farther out of sight. What should he do? If he were to come out into the open, then what? He felt so foolish, like he was a teen again. He mentally called himself an assortment of depreciating names and wondered how a man in his mid-thirties could get himself into this sort of predicament.

He heard muffled music start up and then her voice, once again, a little loud for the setting.

If you need me, call me. No matter where you are, no matter how far, just call my name…

He grinned. She was back on her song and had dismissed him. He still couldn’t leave. He just listened. Aside from a few hard to reach notes, she actually sang better than the average amateur with a headset and he felt comforted by her voice. He lost his grin. She deserves someone a lot braver. He would have to walk away and out of the library without meeting her.

But nothing could make his legs move.

Ain’t no mountain high enough…

Sounds of determined shoe heels were briskly shuffling their way. A matronly woman with a scowl on her face approached.

What took you so long, Lawless? He was sorry the singing would soon be over but also curious how the blonde was going to handle the librarian.

Mrs. Lawless belted out with all the self-righteous indignation she could muster, What in the name of…?

Quiet! the jokester from earlier said in a loud whisper toward the matron, which evoked more shushing and laughter.

The singer had already taken off her headset and started stuffing all her scattered out belongings into a backpack, ignoring Mrs. Lawless.

The librarian picked up her envelope and read what was written on it. "Info Nympho?"

The blonde snatched the envelope from her hand. Not your business, Lawful, or should I say, ‘Le Awful’?

It’s Lawless.

She flipped a blasé hand through the air. Whatever.

I’ve had trouble with you before, Missy.

Would you keep your voice down? the blonde said. There are students trying to study, here. Geez!

Tolan had to chuckle to himself until he heard the threatening tone in her voice.

And don’t call me Missy.

A security guard walked up to her table, asking if there was a problem, giving the pretty woman his most authoritarian look.

Tolan watched her slender legs raise her from her chair to a tall height, as she stood in front of and eye to eye with the guard.

This pulled in the attention of most of the students, waiting to see what the tough chick would do next. It was the quietest the library had ever been.

The rebellious beauty lifted her chin and stared back at the guard. There was something in her icy glare that caused the man to take a step back.

I can show myself out this time, thank you, she said.

Don’t bother coming back… Missy, Lawless threw out.

The blonde stopped.

The security guard hopelessly sighed.

After a tense moment the blonde threw up her hand with a quick twist of her wrist, a snap of her