Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1) (20 page)

The balding man lies in a heap on the pavement. With a jerk his eyes roll back in his head, face pale, hands shaking.

Before I witness anymore I dream travel to a new layer, a place I’ve never been. I’m hoping to find something new to take my mind off my troubles. Turns out my troubles are following me.

Before I feel the pavement under my feet I know something’s askew. The cold marble under my fingers steadies me as the noises meet my ears. More screaming. I crouch behind a light pole, my mind stiffening with dread. From my vantage point the line of etched stars stretches along the sidewalk. There’s hardly anyone out at this hour, although a few cars pass every so often. The scream again.

The deep breath I suck in has little effect on the dread building deep within me. Tentatively I stand to a normal position. Another scream, this one guttural. My eyes search until they find the source—a man. He lurks in an upper floor window, yanking at curtains. Possessed. I recognize the wild expression in the man’s eyes. He looks exactly how Shiloh, my brother, looked the last time I saw him. The look, the paranoia, the manic behavior are all the result of not being able to dream. Hallucinations have taken over. I jerk my attention away from the man who’s now beating against the window, as if he’s trying to escape his own personal prison.

Hollywood is supposed to be glamorous. Full of entertainment and opportunity. I’d always pictured the place as having an inescapable energy, one that hums through my chest with an energetic beat. This is not the Hollywood I envisioned. Its deserted streets are cloaked in grayness. Trash rustles down the sidewalk as a fierce wind barrels through the alleyway. A piece of debris entangles itself around my leg. I fetch it and am just about to let it slip through my fingers and be carried off by the wind when something catches my eyes. It’s a newspaper. Today’s. The front page of the
LA Times
reads:

Unclassified Epidemic Sweeps the Nation

Thousands across the nation are suffering from what scientists are calling Sleep-X virus. The origin and cause of the infectious disease are currently unknown. It doesn’t appear to be contagious, but quarantine of infected individuals is required until more is determined. The Sleep-X virus is called such because a person’s inability to reach REM state is the precursor to the other symptoms, which include hallucinations, malnutrition, paranoia, high blood pressure, heart palpitations, depression, stroke, dementia, heart attack, and heart failure. Most concerning to doctors is the abrupt onset of symptoms in some patients, whereas others suffer for long periods of time with the disease. Even more disconcerting is no medical intervention has been successful in treating the disease or relieving its symptoms. Dr. Randal Smith, the Chair of Neurobiology at UCLA states, “The disease intermittently paralyzes the cerebral cortex and the thalamus, especially during states of rest. As the disease progresses, the frequency of paralysis increases until one of the associated symptoms kills the patient.” Researchers worldwide have come together to research the epidemic, which has also spread amongst parts of Europe and China. In some areas it’s referred to as the Enigmatic virus since no real cause or treatment has been found. “There have been cases in history similar to the ones we’re seeing today,” Smith states, “but the frequency of cases is notable and it’s imperative we employ all our efforts to ending this epidemic before…

I don’t need to read anymore. People aren’t suffering from a disease and there’s no amount of research that will stop it. Zhuang is to blame for this. And it looks as though—as Trey predicted—his greed is building. I thought I could run from my current problems. I thought I could avoid this fight, but the only solution to the world’s problems is to end Zhuang.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I
awake the next morning and arrive early to workout. If anyone is surprised to see me, they hide it well. We all eat breakfast without a word. It isn’t until we’re seated in the classroom, waiting for Shuman, that anyone says anything that resembles normal speech.

Whitney’s childlike voice echoes against the ceiling of my mind. “I always knew it couldn’t be Misty. She was never right as the challenger.” Whitney bites her lip looking uncomfortable, but determined. “I always knew it had to be you, Roya.”

“Honestly,” Trent says, tying his dreadlocks back in a ponytail, “even though Misty is probably off in a padded cell going crazy, I still believe she’s intolerable. You know why?” he asks arching one eyebrow. “Trey said Zhuang’s curse ended when she put on that ring, the protective charm. Well, she was still a big bitch to us after that, wasn’t she? I think that’s her true nature and that’s the reason Zhuang chose her. It’s probably easier to infiltrate evil witches with your thoughts than other people.”

Joseph sits looking off. He hasn’t said a word. I want him, of all people, to say something but he just sulks. He’s my closest friend here. My first friend ever. As sad as that is to admit, it means I’m reliant on his consolation at this point. I’ve become dependent on it. And right now I need it more than ever. He crosses his arms and stares, transfixed, at a far-off object on the other side of the room.

Finally it’s Samara who contributes to the conversation. “Roya, there’s a place in Zhuang I know I can get to. I’ve seen it in my dreams. I can find his thoughts at some point and share them with you. I’ll be able to help...but…”

Her words make me feel as good as I’ve felt in the last twelve hours. “Thanks,” I say to cut off her doubt.

Then Shuman enters the room and I know it’s time to stop looking for sympathy.

“Today we are going to begin to understand spirit animals. These are animals that visit you in your dreams and offer their powers to you in your dream travels. You must learn to trust their wisdom, or pay the price for ignoring it. To better understand this concept I want to demonstrate it. Everyone come and lie down on the ground here beside me.”

Once we’re settled around her, as we have become accustomed to during our meditation practices, she gives us one last set of orders. “Close your eyes and meet me right here, right now in the dreamscape.”

I do as she requests and within seconds I’m back to exactly the same place, but in my subconscious form. Surprisingly I arrive even before Shuman. I watch as one by one the others spring up around me, pulling their consciousness from the body lying on the floor.

When we’re gathered, Shuman gives a look of contentment. “When I was a young girl a snake regularly haunted my dreams. At first I was frightened and I would awake screaming. After some time the shaman of my tribe told me to approach the snake and to ask him what he wanted. On one occasion I did this. When I lifted the serpent into my arms for the first time he turned to me and spoke. He said, ‘guide us as you will.’ I knew from that moment on that the snakes in my dreams were not to be feared. They were offering themselves to do my beckoning. They were my servants.”

From nowhere Shuman pulls a snake out of the air and holds it in her arms. Its rattle flickers and my chest flutters.

“My friends,” she continues, “have aided me all my life and continue to be my guide.” She throws the snake into the air and it lands safely on the ground and slithers through a maze of chairs. “My reason for showing you this is that if you have a spirit animal then do not run from it. Grab it. Ask it what it wants from you. And maybe it will offer its protection when you are in need. My guess is at least one of you is protected by the animals.” She points at each one of us individually. “The question is which one?”

Shuman stares at us for a long second and then disappears. We all follow suit, returning to our bodies. I stare at the tattoo on her arm with a new interest. Suddenly it isn’t as creepy. The rattlesnake’s features are kind of beautiful as I spy the details of each of the scales along the serpent’s body. Shuman waits until we’re all back in our bodies and standing once more. Her words are quiet and raspy and I sometimes wonder if, like Ren, this is all part of an act.

“Pay special attention to your dreams,” she says hoarsely as she strides out of the room.

♦

A few days later I receive a message from Aiden asking me to meet him in his lab. Mixed feelings tether my insides. I’m ecstatic to get out of training with Ren this afternoon, but I’m dreading facing Aiden. I grip the letter written in the Head Scientist’s handwriting and my mind reels back to when he called me “extraordinary.”
Did he mean it like I’m a special lab rat? Or is it how he thinks of me as a girl?
Honestly, I’m unsure which I prefer.

I’ve been avoiding Aiden since our last meeting. Ever since he held my hand, his touch has haunted me, painting my unconscious dreams with images of him. Many nights I’ve awoken with sweaty palms and a nervous hiccup in my throat, and it isn’t because I’ll soon face Zhuang. I’m the challenger, though, and therefore this emotion, my attraction, has to be ignored.
Focus, Roya. Don’t get distracted.

Before I’m even close to Aiden’s lab I hear the music drumming its way down the corridor, beckoning me forward. The echo of the singer’s voice courses through my veins. Unable to resist it, a smile unfolds on my face as her words hum passionately in my chest.

“You’re a hard girl to get time with,” Aiden says as he plays with a small, flat box hanging at the end of a necklace.

“I know. I’ve been busy,” I say.

“Rightly so.” That look of remorse falls on his face again. “Roya, this is all going to—”

“Don’t,” I stop him. “I’ve been getting this pep talk from everyone. Spare me.” My words sound coarser than I intended, but still, there they hang in the air between us.

Silence. It’s uncomfortable, like I put my shoes on the wrong feet.

“So why’d you call me down here?” I finally ask.

Aiden gives me a sideways look, lips pursed. “For a few reasons.” His eyes fixate on me. Hungry. His look is infectious. My stomach clenches with an uncomfortable desire. His proximity, the music, that look. It’s too much. I jerk my eyes to the object pressed between his fingers. It resembles a camera’s memory card.

“Is that your protective charm?” I ask.

“Actually, my charm
is
a necklace, but this isn’t it. I wear mine
under
my shirt.”

“Oh.” I swallow, staring at the necklace and not his piercing eyes. Suddenly something rises to the surface, like a weird déjà vu moment.

“Wait, I think I’ve seen that before.” I point to the flat box on the silver chain. “Wasn’t that in my closet in the fifth task?”

Aiden nods. “Indeed.”

“But why?”

“It’s complicated. The short answer is, it was in your closet because I’m about to give it to you.” He gives a crooked smile as he plays with the device between his fingers like a poker chip.

“What was the right answer to the question for the fifth task?” I ask to avoid more silence and hungry stares. “What was the object of most importance? Was that it?”

Aiden snickers. “There wasn’t a right or wrong answer. The purpose of the task was to test dream travel ability.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised.

“You know, dream traveling is a skill most have to hone to do properly, at least for the first few years.”

“So?” I shrug in confusion.

“So, that doesn’t seem to apply to you,” Aiden says, gnawing on a smile. “Most contenders never even found their closets, since I kind of made them hidden.”

I scowl at him to cover up my satisfaction.
I found my closet.

“The ones who did find their closets successfully,” Aiden continues, “had difficulty traveling back to when the hourglass was full.”

“Then why the riddle?”

“Well, we had to have something for the few who actually made it and needed an extra challenge.”

“But that’s confusing, to give a riddle that there’s no answer for.” I huff with mock frustration, trying to conceal the pride his comments have unleashed.

“Oh, I don’t know, I thought you had a pretty good answer,” he says, his eyes dancing over mine like sunlight on the ocean.

“Well,” I stir away from him. “You said you’d explain why my bracelet was in the closet.”

“It’s true, I did. Regrettably we don’t have time to discuss that at the moment.” A flirtatious smile spreads across his face before he adds, “Perhaps another time.”

He’s so devastatingly distracting.
Does he know he’s complicating my ability to concentrate at the time I need it most?
The urge to reach across the space and wrap my arms around him traverses through my mind. I shake my consciousness, willing it to focus and abandon primitive desires.

“The real reason I asked you down here is, I need you to test a new piece of technology.” Lowering his head he pulls off the necklace and holds it out with both hands offering it to me. Hesitation prickles my throat. I ignore it. Taking a few cautious steps forward I allow only inches to separate us. Aiden smiles, seemingly enjoying the budding tension. He drapes the necklace over my head. His fingers linger on my skin and I flick my eyes up to meet his. I’m frozen, staring into his sapphire eyes. Intoxicated. He’s close. Closer than ever before. His breath is warm on my cheeks. All I want is to reach out and pull him closer. The hunger burns now, like a bonfire out of control. His eyes stoke this growing fire and I have all but abandoned any attempts to be practical in this situation.

“Excuse me.” A voice splinters the air.

“Hey there.” The Head Scientist breaks away from me. “Come in.”

It’s George. With drooped shoulders he stands awkwardly in the doorway. His eyes don’t meet mine or Aiden’s; instead, he stares somewhere to the right of us. “You requested my participation with something?” he asks dully.

I’m completely baffled. How has such a perfect moment, albeit unnerving, gone to one so lame? This is the opposite of satisfying. I turn and watch Aiden, who has straightened up and looks serious, yet excited.