Bound
Book One in THE CRYSTOR Series
By C. K. Bryant
Smashwords Edition
Copyright© 2011 by C.K. Bryant
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This is a work of fiction. The characters, names,
places, incidents and dialogue are products of the author’s
imagination and are not to be construed as real.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form
whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher except
in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and
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Dedicated to my husband, Ed, for his love and
sacrifice, and for believing in me enough to let me chase my
dreams.
And to our two wonderful sons, Steven and Joshua. I
love you both very much.
Kira glanced up at the silver eyehook screwed
into the gym ceiling. Threaded through the two-inch hole was the
other end of the rope she held in her trembling hands. She gave it
a solid yank to test its strength. She could do this. It wasn’t
like she was afraid of heights—she’d dance along the edge of a
four-story building if it meant not having to climb this stupid
rope. It had to be a mental thing, some unreasonable fear
of—something—that kept her feet glued to the floor.
Coach Andrews stood a few feet away with her
arms folded over her flat chest. “Today, Edwards!” She shifted her
weight and tapped the toe of one worn out Sketcher on the wooden
floor. “Before I lose my patience.”
“You can totally do this,” Lydia whispered
from behind Kira.
Kira glanced over her shoulder to glare at
her friend. “Easy for you to say. You can shimmy up this thing like
a freakin’ monkey.”
“So can you, if you just
try
. Now go,
before we both have to do laps.” Lydia flipped her long blonde
braid behind her back and gave Kira a gentle shove. “Up.”
Kira wiped her sweaty hands on her shorts and
gripped the rope with purpose. The entire class watched. Some girls
sat on bleachers a few feet away, snickering, while others stood
nearby, offering what seemed like genuine support, but was more
than likely a morbid desire to see her colossal failure up close.
Either way, she didn’t like the attention. She closed her eyes and
pulled her body upward before clamping the rope’s slack between her
feet, and pushed off with her leg muscles.
“Good job,” Lydia said. “Now
reach
.”
Kira still had her eyes closed, so felt above
her head for her next hold. The rope pressed into her palm as she
gripped it in her hand. Maybe she
could
do this. She pulled
herself up and adjusted her feet again.
“You’re gonna fall!” Kira didn’t recognize
the voice, but knew it came from one of the girls on the bleachers
by the way it echoed off the gym walls.
“Shut up, Carla!” Lydia yelled.
“Girls!” Coach Andrews’s voice bellowed. “One
more word and it’ll be laps for the lot of you! Now get up that
rope, Edwards. You’ve got three weeks until graduation and I’m not
passing you until you do.”
Silence filled the gym as Kira reached again,
pulling herself up one more section. This time the rope tangled
around her feet causing her hands to take her full weight. Her
fingers burned as they slid a few inches and fumbled to find a
sturdy grip. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes to see how
to fix the problem.
Big mistake.
It wasn’t the distance between her and the
floor that sent a bone chilling surge of fear through her, but what
she saw after she untangled her clumsy feet and looked up. She was
somewhere else—the rope, now tattered and thin, hung over the
rotting beam in an old barn. The wood groaned and sagged with her
weight, and a trickle of blood seeped from between her bound hands
and dripped down the length of her arm.
Kira screamed, yanking her hands free from
their restraint—and the rope hanging from the ceiling. Lydia broke
her fall and both of them collapsed into a heap on the gym
floor.
The bleacher girls erupted in laughter, while
the others froze in place, their faces a mixture of shock and
humor.
“Pipe down! Everyone to the showers! Now!”
Coach Andrews crouched by Kira and Lydia. “What were you thinking?
You can’t let go like that. You could have been seriously
injured.”
Kira examined her hands for any sign of
blood. Nothing. “I . . . um . . .” She glanced at Lydia who was
rubbing a spot on the back of her head. “I slipped. Are you
okay?”
“Yeah. Might have a headache later, but
nothing’s broken.”
Coach Andrews stood and motioned toward the
door that led to the hall. “Come on. Let’s get you two to the
nurse’s office.”
“No!” Lydia said a little too loud. She
jumped to her feet, pulling Kira with her. “We’re fine. We don’t
need a nurse.”
“Lydia, what about your head?” Kira tried to
take her hand back, but Lydia tightened her grip and dragged her to
the locker room door.
“Girls, it’s policy. I need to fill out an
incident report.”
Lydia stopped and turned back to Coach
Andrews. “What incident? We were just messing around. No harm done.
Right, Kira?” Lydia jabbed an elbow in Kira’s ribs. “
Right
,
Kira?”
“Um . . . right. Messing around. No
incident.” Kira flashed a half-hearted grin before Lydia pulled her
the rest of the way through the door and into the locker room—a
maze of chattering, half-naked girls waiting to mock and tease. At
least that’s what she expected. To her surprise, only one
spoke—Carla—wearing nothing but a flimsy white towel.
“Nice fall,
Edwards
. Maybe next time
you can make it more than three feet off the ground.” She laughed,
starting a chain reaction through the locker room.
Lydia stepped between them. “You’re one to
talk. I seem to remember it took you half the semester to make it
up that rope and a whole herd of your friends to coax you down. At
least Kira won’t whine for a week about how her sensitive hands
were damaged by ‘hanging on for dear life’ as you put it.” A few
distant giggles escaped from the other side of the room.
Carla’s sarcastic smirk faded into a scowl.
She let out a huff of air and spun on her heels, disappearing into
one of the shower stalls.
“You didn’t have to do that, ya know. She’s
all talk and she doesn’t bother me.” Kira walked past Lydia, found
her locker and dialed the combination.
Lydia let out a deep sigh, so Kira turned
back to face her. “What?”
“Why do you let her say things like that to
you? She’s such a—”
“Don’t say it.” Kira wasn’t sure how to
explain how she felt about Carla. She didn’t hate her and she
certainly didn’t want to fight with her. It was something Kira saw
in Carla’s eyes. Something vulnerable and broken—despite the
attitude. “Maybe she just needs a friend.” She sat with her foot
propped up on the bench and untied her shoe.
Lydia joined her, prying her shoes off with
her toes. “Are you nuts? Carla has more friends than anyone else in
the whole school.”
“She has followers, girls who use her for
popularity. Parasites. Leaches. Not friends.” Kira stood and peeled
her shirt over her head.
“Maybe. But she still doesn’t need to pick on
you so much.”
“Well, I figure if she’s picking on me,
she’ll leave everyone else alone. I can take it.”
“Tough chick, eh?” Lydia flicked her on the
leg with a twisted gym towel.
Kira jumped out of range. “Got that right.
Now stop distracting me. Mr. Hall’s gonna kick my butt if I’m late
for English again.”
“You can always skip class.”
“Ha! Not funny.”
* * * * *
As grateful as Kira was for school to be
over, she couldn’t help lingering in the school parking lot until
Lydia finished in the photo lab. After school was the only time
Lydia had access to the developing equipment without someone
looking over her shoulder—and she liked the privacy.
Kira didn’t mind waiting. The longer it took
her to get home, the less time she’d have to spend avoiding her
mother’s boy-toy, Paul. With any luck, they’d already be gone on
their weekend jaunt to Vegas. Saving money was against Paul’s
religion. At least that’s what her mom said.
Kira climbed up to sit on the hood of Lydia’s
multi-colored, rust-bucket of a car and pressed the ear-buds
connected to her iPod into her ears. A little Colbie Caillat would
help relax her nerves, especially after the day she’d had. She
leaned back on her elbows, closed her eyes and let the afternoon
sun splash across her face.
But as much as she tried, she just couldn’t
get the image of her hands, bound and bleeding, out of her head. It
wasn’t like it was the first time she’d had brain wave
interference—blips, as she called them. For her it was normal.
Except this blip was different. She could feel the rope cutting
into her wrists and smell the pungent odor of damp decaying
wood.
The hair on Kira’s arms pricked against her
skin and she suddenly felt as though someone was watching her. She
sat up and looked around the lot, then at the park across the
street. Most of the kids from school had already left, but the few
that remained certainly weren’t paying attention to her. She rubbed
her jacket sleeves with her hands to settle the goose bumps, but a
minute or so later, the feeling returned.
This time she pulled the buds from her ears
before looking. She scanned the park again, searching further off
in the distance. If she squinted, she could barely make out a dark
silhouette leaning against a tree. She blinked once and he was
gone. Just like that. Vanished.
“Okay, then. I think that makes it official.
I’m
nuts
.”
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Lydia
asked from behind her.
Kira would have jumped, but she’d heard
Lydia’s keys jangle a few seconds before she spoke. “I’m serious. I
swear I just saw a guy . . . aw, never mind. Why are you out so
early?”
“Because Mr. Photography himself gave me a
special assignment. He said I have a unique eye for detail and
wants to see what I can do with color.”
“Color? I thought
all
your pictures
were in color?”
“We’ve been studying black and white, so I’ve
been using one of his older cameras on stills in the room and
developing them the old fashioned way. Next week we start color,
and if I can get some good shots with my digital this weekend,
he’ll use them to teach the class and I’ll get extra credit.”
“Nice!” Kira ran her fingers through her long
red hair and struck a seductive pose. “You can start with this
gorgeous face.” She puckered her lips like a fish and winked.
“Ha! You wish. He wants nature, like flowers
or trees or clouds or . . .” Lydia snapped her fingers. “I’ve got
it. Black Creek. The wild flowers are in full bloom up there
and—”
“Black Creek? Now
you’re
the one who’s
nuts. You can’t go up there alone.”
Lydia leaned closer and flashed a mischievous
grin. “I wouldn’t have to if you went with me.”
Kira slid off the hood and stuffed her iPod
in the front pocket of her jacket. “No way! You wouldn’t catch me
within ten miles of that place. You’ve heard the rumors.” Traipsing
around Black Creek Mountain wasn’t exactly on Kira’s list of fun
things to do, not with its newly acquired reputation. The newest
theory—and by far Kira’s favorite—was that hikers had seen
Sasquatch or some other mythical creature.
Lydia laughed. “Don’t tell me you believe all
that crap. What was the last story? Aliens? Or was it Big Foot?”
Lydia raised her arms above her head, leaned toward Kira and
growled. “Maybe it’s the Boogie Man.”
Kira slapped Lydia’s arm away. “Tease all you
want. I still won’t go.”
“Yes, you will.” Lydia opened the driver’s
side door and threw her backpack onto the seat.
“What are you gonna do, tie me up and throw
me in the trunk of your car?”
“Nope. Just remind you how much you love me.”
Lydia winked.
There it was again—a hint of something
different in Lydia’s green eyes. A subtle flicker of ice behind
their warmth. Something hidden deep inside that Kira couldn’t quite
grasp.
