Carmine (Rage MC: The Prospects #7)

Chapter Two.

Carmine

D r Balfour-Cherlyn was a strange little thing, I decided, but she was also cute. She didn’t seem comfortable with conversation and appeared stilted sometimes when she spoke. I liked her name, though, Molly. Strangely, it suited her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I studied her carefully. Molly wore khaki pants tucked into hiking boots with cream socks just poking out and a long-sleeved tee despite the heat and carried a thick jacket.

Truthfully, Molly wasn’t the usual woman I was attracted to, but she was sweet. As in, next-door girl pretty. Molly had dirty blond hair tied back in a ponytail, she was tanned, no doubt from being outside all day. She had lots of freckles scattered across her cute button nose. She stood at average height, about five foot five, and was slim. However, she was clearly strong, judging by the heavy bags she carried. Molly wore a hat with a wide brim to protect her from the sun, and she had dark sunglasses perched on top.

Molly hadn’t smiled once during our conversation, and I had a sense that she’d been badly hurt. Her own words about being ridiculed and a laughingstock backed that up. Tragically, losing her reputation was just part of it. I guessed Molly had lost some people very close to her and felt that betrayal keenly.

I didn’t feel that Molly was the type of person who got along with others easily and maybe suffered from social anxiety. If you talked shop with her, I sensed Molly would converse fine, but ask her something outside her comfort zone, Molly would freeze. I might be wrong, but that was the impression she gave off.

As we walked in silence back to the car, I could sense Molly’s unease growing and couldn’t blame her. I was six foot four, and we were alone. Damn, if only I were as smooth as my brother Tye, I’d be able to reassure her. But like Molly, I had my own social anxieties. Which, considering how often I was in front of the media and in newspapers and gossip rags, was ridiculous.

Carmine Michaelson, twenty-six years old and the adopted son of the infamous Phoenix Michaelson. Eight years playing ball, and each of them ending with a spotless record. Handsome, muscled, and a part-time model, that was Carmine Michaelson. Or so people thought. I wasn’t a model, I just ended up on a lot of covers. If I was wanted half naked on a cover, I ensured I was paid well. I wasn’t a fuck boy for anyone. Not anymore.

I’d learned my lessons on the streets protecting Serenity and Harley. Reporters often asked about my life on the street and received a blank stare. That wasn’t their business. Everybody wished to know the ins and outs of my adoption, and again, fuck off. They’d no right to that information. All they needed to be aware of was a fucking amazing woman, who I call Mom, adopted me when I was fourteen. And then came along Drake in 2014, who gave us a father. I might have been eighteen, but I’d still needed a dad, and Drake was perfect.

The public had their idea of Carmine Michaelson, which wasn’t the true version. Not the truth of the street rat who’d scrabbled for food to feed Tye, Serenity, and Harley. Not the thirteen-year-old kid whose ass had been raped and cast aside. I soon learned to sell it when things were dire to get us all fed. I’d beg and steal before I bent over, but I sacrificed for my brothers and sister, and I would not change a thing. Nobody was aware of the nightmares that made me sweat and woke me at night.

Nor did they know that for the first year of my adoption, I waited for Mom to rape me each nighttime. I left my door open on purpose, my bedroom placed before Serenity’s, Tye’s, and Harley’s. If Mom had wanted to assault someone, it would have been me. She never came.

Not once. Not until I finally called her mother and realised I was truly safe. Mom then would come to my room and curl into a chair, never getting too close, respecting my fear and space. She’d sit there while I screamed out my nightmares.

Mom would sing to me, off-key, but she’d sing me back to sleep. The public remained completely unaware of that side of Carmine Michaelson. They thought I led a charmed life. But that hadn’t happened until I hit fourteen. Mom building me a baseball diamond was legendary, but her attitude was her kids had suffered enough. Now, Mom had money to make things easier for us, and she did. Mom didn’t care what she had to do to help us succeed at our dreams; she did it. Screw anyone who’d anything negative to say.

Mom’s mindset rubbed off on us, and we became a tight-knit family. Mom and then Drake hadn’t given a shit that we did not share blood. No, all they cared about was they had a bunch of kids to love. And they’d certainly had a lot of children! People might perceive us as spoiled or rich brats; they could think again. Mom had money, but we worked for it. Despite giving us everything we needed to succeed in life, we still did chores. All of us understood the meaning of hard work.

No, the public wasn’t aware of the true Carmine Michaelson. And I wondered how much Molly let her real self show to people. She was tightly wound, and I had the feeling that had been ingrained since childhood.

Despite all that, I needed to get to know Dr Mol ly Balfour-Cherlyn. I wanted to peel back those layers and reveal the woman Molly was hiding. But now was not the time. Molly had information we required, and if I upset her, Dad would kick me from one state to another.

As we walked down to where her jeep and my bike were parked, I let Molly wander a little ahead of me. Her ass was cute and certainly eye-catching and was making my cock twitch. Before I could disgrace myself and imagine Molly in a thong, I thought about lava and Aurora’s prophecy.

Dad’s words that Aurora had collapsed this morning worried me. Having been a prospect alongside Klutz, I was bonded to Aurora more than most of the other old ladies. As prospects, we were closer to other prospect’s women because we hung together more. The women were a tight bunch, and we all pretty much mixed as a club, but yeah, the prospect’s old ladies meant a little more.

“This is me. How long will you be?” Molly questioned, interrupting my thoughts as she stashed her bags in the rear of the jeep.

“About two hours?” I suggested, not sure, really.

“Perfect. If you don’t find me at the house, behind it is my lab,” Molly responded.

“You have a laboratory?”

“Yes. After the U.S. Geological Survey team kicked me, I set up here. I wasn’t allowed to use their labs anymore, so I built my own. My grandparents left me a lot of money,” Molly said and climbed into the jeep.

“You’re serious about your hypothesis,” I somewhat stupidly replied.

Molly sent me a look. “If you’re really genuine, then you’ll find out in a couple of hours.”

Molly started the engine and, performing a neat turn, disappeared down the road.

“See you soon, Doc,” I whispered and swung a leg over my Harley.

Molly

The first I knew of visitors was when Mya sat up and barked furiously.

“Shit, did the doc mention a dog?” a guy asked.

“No, Dad, but it makes sense as she’s a woman alone,” Carmine replied.

“Mya, down,” I said, pushing my glasses back up my nose. They had a tendency to slip down.

“Dr Balfour-Cherlyn, my name is Drake Michaelson, may I come in? You spoke to my son in the Black Hills today,” a man called.

I recognised his voice from the phone call.

“You can, but please don’t enter the laboratory, stay in the reception area,” I replied.

Four men and two women walked in. Behind them came Carmine, and I relaxed at seeing him.

“Take a seat, I am just uploading the latest information. Mya may need fussing, but she won’t bite. There are treats in the cupboard if you wish to make friends,” I murmured, distracted by the report I was reading.

My visitors swapped glances but did as I asked as I peered at the data again. Quickly spinning around, I grabbed another printout and began comparing the facts. Shit. Whatever was going to happen was imminent. How had I missed the micro-tremors?

“That’s her!” a woman exclaimed, distracting me.

Confused, I looked up and focused on a beautiful lady standing up.

She pointed at me.

“Aurora,” a handsome African American said, but she shook her head.

“No. That is her. She’s been screaming and yelling, and they won’t listen to her. They drove her away and laughed, but she is right and always has been,” Aurora continued.

“Who are you?” I asked as I hit the print button to compare my two charts.

“Aurora, and this is Klutz, my old man,” she said, and I stared as I held out my hand for the printout.

“Are you defined by having… an old man?” I answered, perplexed.

“It’s easier for those who understand who’s with whom,” Aurora answered, laughing.

“That makes a sort of sense.”

“You’re the doctor who tried to warn everyone,” Aurora said.

“Yes. But Carmine could have told you that,” I replied.

“Indeed, he could have.” Aurora laughed.

“Can you tell us what’s happening?” Drake interrupted.

“Come to my study,” I ordered, rising and leaving the lab and scrubbing down. I unlocked the second door and ensured they both were locked before leading the way to my home.

Mya trotted at my heels as I let us in. A Bernese Mountain Dog, Mya was sweet, but she’d been trained as a guard dog.

“Does anyone want a drink?” I asked as we entered the house via my kitchen.

There, I’d remembered a social nicety. See, I could function.

“We’re fine at the moment,” Drake said.

“Good. Um. Let me know if you’d like one. There’s a small fridge in my study; you can help yourself,” I threw over my shoulder.

They followed me down the hallway, down a flight of steps, and into the basement where I had my study. I flicked the light on and frowned.

“Sorry, I don’t have chairs. There’s a dining room with some,” I offered, looking around.

“Carmine,” Drake said, and Carmine disappeared up the stairs. He made the trip a couple of times until everyone was able to be seated. I liked the fact that they ensured the women sat first.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m Phoenix Michaelson, and this is Aurora, who you’ve spoken to. My husband, Drake Michaelson is the President of Rage MC. This is Ace, his VP, Axel, Rage’s founder and Chaplin, and Texas, our secretary,” she introduced everyone.

“I am not great at remembering names, so it is good you have them on your waistcoats,” I replied.

“Cut. They’re called cuts,” Drake stated with a warm smile.

Idly, I wondered why they were called that. “You don’t need a notetaker,” I said, nodding at Texas.

“Secretary duties in an MC don’t involve that. Well, sometimes Texas does. But that’s not what he’s here for today,” Drake said.

Confused, I nodded.

“How much do you know about volcanoes?” I finally asked after I settled at my desk.

“Nothing really, but more than I did before,” Drake answered honestly.

I swiped on my laptop, and a holographic picture appeared in front of us.

“Holy shit!” Phoenix exclaimed. “I wasn’t aware the technology was available.”

“This is experimental and an amazing tool. A friend of mine devised it. He gave me a prototype to test, and it works amazingly well. Now, please look at the image. As you can see, the Earth’s crust is made up of molten rocks, which is called magma. The magma finds spaces in the crust and fills them, creating magma chambers.

“During an earthquake or tectonic plate movement, the earth’s plates move and pull apart or push together. This lets magma rise and then the pressure of being pushed causes a pipe or conduit and then the volcano erupts.”

As I spoke, the diagram showed them exactly how everything happened.

“That is so cool!” Aurora gasped as the volcano on-screen erupted.

“Thanks, it helps with stuff like this,” I replied.

“Where could I get one?” Drake asked.

“You can’t, they’re not for sale yet. Shall I continue?” I inquired, wondering if this was part of them poking fun at me.

“Sorry, Dr Balfour-Cherlyn. Witnessing something that’s meant to be science-fiction is an amazing thing. Please continue,” Phoenix said.

“Volcanoes worldwide operate in a certain manner. Pressure sets them off, and they explode, basically. However, what I am witnessing here is not a volcano, but it is volcanic activity. Ten years ago, I noticed a spike in the earthquakes around this part of South Dakota. They were becoming more frequent. But after they ended, the events continued, which made no sense.”

“No volcano, no volcanic rumblings,” Drake mused, and I nodded.

“Exactly, so where’s this activity coming from? I came down and began taking measurements and samples, and it all pointed to volcanic activity. But there are no volcanoes. However, what the Black Hills does have is Bear Butte. Some postulated Bear’s Butte was a laccolith; others speculate it was a volcano that never erupted and weathered over time. Some even believe that Bear Butte may have erupted when it formed before becoming dormant.

“But we all agreed Bear Butte had seen some sort of volcanic activity. There are many laccoliths all over the Black Hills, and they’re the closest thing to a volcano you have here,” I said as the man called Ace interrupted me.

“Doc, everyone might not understand what a laccolith is. Would you please explain?”

I tapped the keyboard again and brought up another diagram. This one showed the construct of a laccolith.

“It’s accepted the laccoliths in South Dakota formed over fifty million years ago when magma pushed its way up through the Earth’s crust. The pressure below forced the magma to escape, and as it shoved its way upwards, it created the laccoliths in the Black Hills. If the laccoliths had erupted, then they would have become fully fledged volcanoes. Imagine yourself in bed, and your foot pushes the covers up, making a mound, and then the bedcovers tear, and your toes peek through.”

“Basically, laccoliths are baby volcanoes that never exploded,” Phoenix said, frowning.

“Laccoliths were potential volcanoes, yeah.”

“I can see where this is going,” Drake drawled, his brain clearly busy.

“Laccoliths are dormant, though,” I informed them, and this was my quandary.

“But you’re registering volcanic activity,” Carmine exclaimed.

“Yes. Over time, I noticed it increasing steadily, which led me to form the hypothesis that perhaps the magma under the Black Hills laccoliths was on the rise again. If it were under pressure from the earthquakes and being squeezed, it would be seeking an escape. When the pressure that formed the laccoliths stopped fifty million years ago, the magma did two things. Some flowed back into the chamber, and the rest cooled but left channels in the newly created laccoliths.”

“If it were under pressure again, the magma would rise through those pathways and explode? How many damned laccoliths are up there? Is the entire state about to be eaten alive? Oh shit, how the hell are we going to evacuate everyone in time?” Phoenix cried, leaping to her feet.

“No! Calm down, please! That is not what is happening. I think the pressure is limited to a single area. Some of the laccoliths have such a thickness to them they’ll never erupt. There won’t be a volcanic explosion. What I predict will happen is the magma will find a weak laccolith and start pushing against it.

“Once it breaks a crack open, it has created a vent and then the magma, which becomes lava, will flow through it. It’s not a volcano, there’ll be no explosions or pyroclastic flow. Remove Dante’s Peak from your mind. That bloody movie is a bane for us. But I believe we’ll get a steady stream of lava until the pit has emptied its belly. Then it’ll make room before the hole seals and the process starts up again,” I explained.

“And when you told people this, they didn’t take you seriously?” Phoenix asked.

“No, because laccoliths do not leak magma! They’re not volcanoes or dormant volcanoes. I know this. All volcanologists do. Laccoliths do not have volcanic activity, yet the Black Hills are showing definite signs of it,” I exclaimed, and my frustration leaked.

“Doc, we believe you. How do we stop this happening?” Texas asked.

“You can’t. There is no way of stopping it. We could have used preventive measures to protect Rapid City, but considering the escalation these last two weeks, I don’t think we have enough time.”

The words had no sooner left my mouth than a tremor shook us and made us fall out of our chairs.

“That was stronger than earlier,” I muttered, leaping to my feet and heading for my laptop. I began typing furiously at it. “Damn, a three point five.”

“Doc, what does that mean?” Texas inquired.

“It means that the magma is pushing back, and the plates are pushing against the magma, which is causing earthquakes. And they will get stronger,” I answered.

“And EROS isn’t studying this?” Phoenix questioned in disbelief.

“No, because South Dakota has no active volcanoes here.”

“How long, Doc?” Axel demanded. He’d been silent all meeting, but I saw his brain working behind his eyes.

“A week, no more than two,” I mumbled.

A heaviness fell upon the room.

“Where do you guess it will erupt?” Axel asked.

I pulled up another diagram. “The activity seems centred around Buzzards Roost. The magma will escape there.”

“That’s three miles from downtown Rapid City!” Drake exclaimed.

“Maybe it’ll flow the other way?” Klutz said and then shook his head. “No, Aurora’s visions show it running through the streets.”

“I can get you a meeting with EROS and the people in power tomorrow. Can you prepare a presentation with the necessary evidence by then?” Phoenix asked me.

“I have the presentation from three years ago, and I just need to update the information,” I replied.

“Do it, and I’ll get everyone together in the council chambers in city hall. Be there for nine o’clock, Dr Balfour-Cherlyn,” Phoenix said.

I began laughing. “They aren’t going to come. Nobody believed me then and won’t now.”

Phoenix stared at me.

“A donation of a few million dollars will bring anyone running. The condition is they listen to your presentation. Doc, money speaks, and people like cash. They’ll be there; you be sure to be ready,” Phoenix replied.

“Carmine, you and Klutz help the Doc. Aurora-Victoria, I can’t boss you around…” Drake said as Aurora laughed.

“Yeah, if you say so, Drake. I’ll stay because these visions are killing me. Now that they’ve been vindicated, they might ease, which would be wonderful. The last one put me on my back,” she replied ruefully.

Drake spoke to me. “Be ready for tomorrow morning, Doc. The prospects are at your command. If you need anything, tell them and they’ll fetch it.”

“Okay,” I replied, unsure of what else to say.

“And I’ll make sure you eat and drink.” Aurora smiled.

“I’m used to working alone if you all have better things to do—”

“Ain’t nothing more important for this. This vision has been haunting Aurora since she came back to Rapid City. I want it gone. Even if those two fetch you coffee and food and massage your feet, I don’t care. They’ll do what it takes for you to put the presentation together and make those in charge hear you out,” Drake replied.

“Thank you,” I said with a sense of relief running through me. Someone finally believed me. And that gave me all the motivation I needed. Even if they only listened because of Aurora.