The Tesla Gate Read Online Free PDF

bedroom had just walked past the door.
    â€œHello?” I called out shakily.
    How could there be anyone in there? Surely it was just a tree branch blowing outside the bedroom window, but then it dawned on me … there weren’t any trees on that side of the house.Frozen, I listened and heard nothing. I was just about to move on to the TV when a faint noise met my ears. I listened curiously at first, but the longer I listened the faster my heart began to race. Was that someone crying? The more I listened, the more certain I became that a child was crying in Seth’s room. Could this have been one of his friends that had snuck into his room to privately mourn? I didn’t think so. Seth was only six, after all, and the nearest child his age lived about four blocks away, a far piece for a six-year-old to travel by himself. But still, I was positive about what I was hearing: it was definitely the undersized sobs of a child.
    My tinge of curiosity was quickly replaced by a creepy feeling, like 100 mice were running up and down my spine. My interest about what was going on outside had been brushed aside for a new single-minded focus. Who or what was on the other side of the door?
    I slowly crept toward the door, barely daring to breathe. A large vase beside the bathroom contained two large golf umbrellas. I grasped one by its protruding handle and slowly withdrew it from the vase, like a knight drawing his sword. I didn’t know what the heck I was going to do with an umbrella, unless the intruder was armed with a water pistol. I guess it just gave me some sort of security as I moved to open the door, however false it may be.
    I placed my left palm against the surface of the door and gently pushed as it slowly started to swing inward. I poked the tip of the umbrella into the widening crack, ready to repel any attack that came my way. The door gave one last tiny creak as it came to a stop. As I peered into the bedroom, the umbrella dropped from my hand and my heart leapt into my throat. Sitting on the bed, crying and looking sadly at his shelf of Star Wars toys, was Seth.
    I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. Surely this was some trick of the light, some trick of this weirdness that was going on outside. No, it was definitely no trick of the light; as for a trick of the weirdness outside … that was debatable. I would soon find that this was no trick of any kind. The reports on the radio appeared to be true.
    He didn’t seem to notice me at first, or at least not to pay any attention as he continued to gaze longingly at his playthings. He looked the same as he had the last time I had seen him alive. His blond hair was parted neatly in the middle and he wore an orange and yellow striped shirt with khaki shorts. At the end of his skinny legs dangling over the edge of the bed, he wore a pair of faded Spider-Man tennis shoes.
    As I entered further into the room, he turned his head and looked at me. It was the same Seth, but on the other hand, it was not. His whole form, flesh and clothes alike, seemed to shimmer faintly like the surface of a lake just as dawn breaks. He gave off the same ethereal glow as the mysterious light shining in from outside. Whatever this weirdness was, he seemed to be both independent and part of it at the same time.
    This was the moment that I experienced the rare mix of joyous elation and profound horror. My son was back and he was sitting on his bed looking at me, which makes me happy… I should be happy but … he’s dead, for God’s sake! I buried him and his mother two weeks ago! This can’t be real … it just can’t!
    But it was real, and that point was driven home like a bolt of lightning as Seth spoke to me.
    â€œDaddy, you can see me?” he said in a tired and frightened voice.
    It was Seth’s voice all right, but a little different. It was like he was talking to me from inside a large metal drum; his voice echoed with a tin sound that sent