Aftermath (42 page)

“What gives?” I asked after taking a sip.

“What do you mean?”

“Your clothing. Your style’s changed.”

He shrugged. “Everyone needs a change once in a while.”

I laughed. Commander E never changed. His rigidness was the one, trusted constant in our world.

“Okay. So I had a little encouragement.”

“Encouragement?”

“Yes.”

“Is this from some attractive woman I’ve seen you with before?”

He shook his head and took a long pull of his scotch. “Well, yes. She’s very attractive. But you’ve never seen me with her before. She’s not interested in me. In that way.”

“Since when has that stopped you?”

“She’s human.”

“And? Need I ask again?” I chuckled, but he remained silent until I gave in. “When has that stopped you?” 

“I want her as an agent.”

“You’re recruiting?’

“Something like that.”

“And she has no idea, does she?”

He shook his head and finished the scotch.

“How long’s her contract?”

He poured another glass and refilled mine before answering. “She’s got years. I don’t know. Thirty… forty, maybe.”

“And you’re recruiting
already
?” The thought seemed absurd.

He shrugged.

“Are you planning to cut her contract short?”

He didn’t answer. He was done talking. I was able to read that Ezekiel Cain had been following this woman for several lives before he shut his shield and blocked me from learning too much.

“Enjoy your R and R.” He raised his glass and toasted mine. “You deserve it.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said and finished the scotch. Extending my vacation a few years was granted, despite Commander E’s attempts to lure me back home to head up The Farm. It was a high-level position, but it wasn’t for me. Not now. Not after I found Emma.

“After that, we’ll talk again,” he said with a smirk. We both knew I’d be reassigned. In time. Whether it would be fieldwork, where I could stop in by Emma on a regular basis, or headquarters work, would be determined at a later date.

For now, all I knew was that I found my Elizabeth in Emma Bennett.

THE END

Looking back at this incredible journey, I can’t help but recognize the people that supported me along the way…

To Rebecca, Courtney, Marya, and Dyan, thank you for believing in my story. I am truly blessed to be a part of your family.

To my husband, Michael, I couldn’t have done this without you. Every step of the way, you were there for me and I appreciate that, more than you know. Love you, always! To my daughter, Brittany, and my son, Kyle, you are my inspiration and my strength. I love you both—you’re the best!

To Diana Zawada, you listened to my ramblings, gave great advice, celebrated good times, and consoled me in down times. I can’t ask for a better friend.

To the staff, students, and my friends at AllWriters’ Workplace and Workshop, you helped make Ben and Emma’s story better. To Author Michael Giorgio, your honest critiques were invaluable. Thank you for your guidance and friendship, and most of all, for your sarcastic humor.

To my friends and family, I appreciate each and every one of you. Your encouragement kept me going.

Lastly, to Mom, Dad, Eustice, and Sharie—who are probably celebrating this day in their Afterworld—this story is for you!

Sandy Goldsworthy was born and raised in Sheboygan, Wisconsin, earning a Bachelor’s Degree in Marketing from the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh.

Her passion for putting pen to paper began when her high school English teacher inspired her to be more descriptive in her work. Ever since, Sandy has dabbled in creative writing, searching for that perfect shade of red.

Sandy’s first novel, Aftermath, was signed by Clean Teen Publishing, in 2014.

When not writing, Sandy enjoys traveling, cooking, reading, and hanging out with friends and family. She resides in southeastern Wisconsin with her husband, Mike, two children, Brittany and Kyle, and their English Mastiff, Miles.

Step, step, breathe, breathe, step, step, breathe, breathe
. My shoes kept a steady rhythm with my burning lungs. I veered off my regular path, opting to hear the crunch of the leaves beneath my feet. The image of my mom’s disapproving face was ignored as I leapt across a gurgling brook.
Breathe, breathe, crunch, crunch.

If I wasn’t mountain biking, I was running. I craved speed and freedom. I had to escape the oppressive perfection of living in the Campbell home. Thinking of my two older sisters, one model and the other a star volleyball player, my legs lunged, lengthening their stride. Not good at team sports and terrified by cameras, I knew my family felt my height was wasted on me.

Even Jeremy gives me a hard time.

A stitch pinched my side.
Breathe, breathe.
I knew I was going too fast, not pacing myself right. Something was urging me on, pushing me to scale the hill before me, and plunge deeper into the woods.
I refocused on my rhythm, my inhales and exhales, and my body realigned itself, goose bumps shooting across my arms.
There it is.
I’d hit my second wind and I surged on, not caring where my feet led
.

It’s freedom! Complete and—

There was a rush of air, a whistling in my ear, and a sting to the back of my arm. Instantly, I tumbled to the ground, sliding into the damp morning dew. Cold dirt filled my nostrils as blackness enveloped me.

***

I heard my own labored breathing long before I realized I was somewhere in between awake and asleep. Forcing my eyes open, I gasped. My senses took everything in at once—the smell of wood shavings, the scratchy ropes on my wrists and ankles, and the pressure of the mattress beneath my body. I screamed, but the empty room with wooden floors and stacked logs for walls was empty. No one burst through the door in the corner.

Realizing it was useless and only making my throat raw, I fell silent. Panic flooded me. How did I get here? I pressed my thoughts to retrace my steps, but my mind felt sluggish. My last memory was running in the woods just before sunrise. I could still feel the burn from the autumn air hitting my lungs. Now the solitary window painted a yellow rectangle on the floor. The room felt stuffy.
It’s probably late afternoon. But is it the same day?

The minutes rolled slowly into hours, the silence suffocating. What had my therapist said to do when I was scared?
Breathe deeply and don’t panic.
It was too late for that; all the years of therapy after my childhood accident were rendered useless.
I’m drowning all over again
. Only this time, it wasn’t water filling my lungs but pure fear and terror pressing down on my chest. I gulped in dry air, my eyes burning with tears.

No one’s coming to save me
. A sob escaped me as the real horror of the situation washed over me.
I’m tied up
.
Someone knows I’m here.
What would happen when they came back?
As the last rays of light were snuffed out by the shadows of the night, that someone came through the wooden door.

***

“Just tell me—what do you want?” I asked, knowing it was pointless. In the three weeks—or had it been longer?—of my imprisonment, I had yet to get an answer. He never spoke.

I blinked, trying to clear the blurry blob that occasionally floated across my right eye. Never having glasses before, I was annoyed by my hazy vision. I blinked again, my eyes refocusing on the figure pacing the room. What had started as a dull headache was now a hammer drumming at the back of my eye sockets.
I need water.
My stomach grumbled with nauseating hunger.

There was no escaping the noxious, pinstriped mattress, except for the periodic bathroom breaks, which weren’t frequent enough.

My jaw quivered, and I clamped my mouth shut.
Don’t start chattering now,
I commanded myself, knowing it usually ended with my whole body convulsing. October was merciless on my bare skin; my arms and legs were permanently smattered with goose bumps.

Stupid running shorts
. I wished for the thousandth time I’d listened to my mom and worn a
sensible
sweat suit that day. The swish-swish of his warm ski parka and pants seemed to mock me, as he continued his route of six steps forward and then six steps back again.

First time in my life that I love my leg hair.

Too late, I realized it was quiet, the rhythmic swish-swish gone. In one impossible leap, he was next to me. I squeaked out in surprise. This wasn’t the first time he’d come close, but usually he ambled over, producing a long needle from his pocket.

Silently, he pressed his face against mine, the black ski mask tickling my forehead and nose. I shied away, terrified by both his touch and the change in his behavior. My bindings made my attempt to move useless, so I squeezed my eyes shut. My chest heaved up and down as my heart galloped against my rib cage.
It’s ok. He’s got a needle. The pinch’s coming still. It’ll be over soon,
I consoled myself.

The ski mask lifted off my face. I tried to steady my pulse, inhaling slowly. Not daring to open my eyes, I waited, but there was still no pinch. The stillness stretched on, with only his heavy breathing letting me know he was near. Never talking, the mechanical sounds he produced reminded me of Darth Vader. I long since decided that he was actually a human and the protruding square under his mask was just a voice modulator.
He’s still a monster.
His growling sounds sent chills through me.

Maybe he has food.
I cracked my eyelids, peeking through feathered lashes. His body leaned over mine, elevated by knuckles planted in the mattress. Terror rippled through me.
Why isn’t he drugging me?
Why isn’t he drugging me?
I welcomed my arm being stuck with a needle. It was my only escape from this nightmare.

With tall boots, gloves, and a long, knit mask, I hadn’t known if my abductor was male or female at first. Now with the way he moved, stared at me, and shoved water bottles and bread into my mouth, I knew he,
it,
was a man.

The bed lowered as he sat down next to me, his weight pulling my body toward him. The bedsores on my backside smarted at the slight shift. Even with his face covered, I could feel him ogling me. One hand reached out, stroking my matted hair down, brushing errant strands from my face. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to bite his glove. He hadn’t actually hit me before, but I didn’t want to take my chances.
Maybe I should bite him. Maybe it’ll end this misery.

The breathing halted as the ski mask cocked to one side.

His voice slurred. “What do I want?” I bit my lip to keep from gasping. He’d never responded before. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I want you to fall in love with me.”

Holy freak! He’s more insane than I thought!
I swallowed, forcing my dry tongue to moisten my mouth. “I’ll
never
love you!”

He chuckled, the sound like a horror movie. “Yes, you will. You see, I’ve always loved you, Samantha, or should I call you Sammy?”

He knows my name?
Dark spots popped in my vision, and my body felt like it was floating several feet above my head.
Crap,
I’m going to pass out!

He touched my arm with his gloved hand.

“Don’t!” I hissed, and he instantly recoiled. Dumbstruck, I stared at the ski mask.
Is he really listening to me?
I didn’t want to faint or be drugged. Not if this was my one chance to talk to him. Pulse pounding in my ears, the adrenaline cleared my mind, giving me courage. “Please, I need water.”

He cocked his head to the side, as if considering, and then produced a small water bottle from his pant pocket. A gloved hand tugged my hairs out as he elevated my head, but this time, he didn’t shove the bottle against my lips. I drained it within seconds, not satiated, and wanting more.

I asked again, “What do you want? Why am I here?”

“I already told you. I want you to fall in love with me.”

“Then let me go! Untie me,” I begged as something wet tickled my lips. I licked the salty tear away.

He didn’t say anything, just sat next to me breathing.

“Who are you?” I persisted. Again, silence. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

“That depends on how long it takes.”

“For what?”

“For,” he paused, “you to love me.”

I resisted the hysterical laughter bubbling within me
. He’s serious, completely psychotic, but serious.

“How can I,” I hesitated, “fall in love with someone I can’t see? Why don’t you take your mask off?”

“No!” he barked, jumping to his feet.

Relieved he was further away, I decided to push him.
This might be my only chance.

“Can I know your name at least?”

“No.”

“Ok, well, how do you know me then?”

“I’ve known you a long time.”

I shuddered. “Do I know you
personally
?”

“Yes.” The voice modifier made it sound like a growl.

My body began shaking. “What do you want?” I whispered.

“Why do you keep asking the same question over and over? You’re smarter than this. That’s why you’re so unique, Sammy. You’re not only beautiful, you’re brilliant.”

Okay, maybe he doesn’t know me that well. I’m anything but brilliant. Stay calm. Keep him talking.
“Why are you drugging me? Why can’t we just talk then?”

His sigh sounded more like a roar. “You ask too many questions, Samantha. You need to sleep now.”

“No!” But he grabbed my arm with one hand, while the other produced the all-too-familiar needle. “No,” I begged. “I can sleep without it! I don’t need it!”

“Yes, you do. I know what’s best for you. Trust me; this is for your own good. And this one is a special blend; I made it myself. You’ll sleep wonderful tonight.”

I thrashed against the ropes, but it was no use. The tip of the needle burned my skin.

He paused and then glanced down at me, his ski mask moving with his mouth. “Wait, I want to tell you something first.” I could no longer feel the point of the needle against my skin. “You
are
going to fall in love with me
Samantha
. It’s only a matter of time. You’ll be mine one day. One day you’ll lie in my arms and kiss my lips.” His gloved finger traced my lips.

I turned away and spat, “Never! I’ll never love you!”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re meant for each other, and no one can ever love you like I do. You were always
my special girl
.”

My head snapped back to glare at him.
Special girl?
Only one person said that to me. A sinking sensation flooded my body as I gasped, “
Jeremy?
Is that
you
?”

The needle inserted, but I no longer cared about the pinch and the burn it caused. All I knew was the scrambled voice that said, “I guess you’ll never know now, will you?”

I struggled to respond but the drug worked fast, seeping through my veins like ice-cold water hitting an empty stomach. My body welcomed it, drifting off into the black void it created.