Destiny Calling (3 page)

Looking at the bottle, I wished relief could be that easy. People who’d never had a migraine couldn’t comprehend how debilitating they could be. Destroying a perfectly good day…or an employment record. Besides, my headaches weren’t the normal garden variety.

I wished I’d never come to know that.

“…or cutting down on your caffeine.” Mrs. Shaw made clucking sounds with her tongue. “I’ve seen those giant cups of coffee the young girls guzzle all day. Those aren’t good for you. If I had any children, I can assure you they’d never start on any of those toxic beverages.”

Like a bobble head, I nodded again, trying to look as if I’d not heard this lecture before or tried everything to get rid of the pain.

Mrs. Shaw’s face softened, and she appeared pleased, as if she’d offered a solution. I wanted to keep her talking, rather than have her dwell too much on the application I was hunkered over, filling out with haste.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” Mrs. Shaw scrutinized me. “I’m sure a pretty girl like you is asked out a lot by the fellows. I saw you talking to Griffith.”

“What?” When I glanced up, she was regarding me with interest, and her eyes held a glint of strange anticipation.

“I’m sure it’s a challenge to find fellows taller than you, though.” She continued as if she’d never mentioned Griffith.

Maybe she hadn’t.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut.

“What are you, six foot?”

“I’m five foot nine.” I probably seemed like a giant to her who looked all of five foot two in heels.

“You may think you don’t have to worry about taking care of yourself, but from your driver’s license I can see you’re in your twenties now…”

Mrs. Shaw’s droned on. The smell of cinnamon seeped into my senses, filling my pores and enveloping me.

“Oh no, not now,” I mumbled. Mrs. Shaw was in full-force lecture-mode and didn’t acknowledge my comment.

I took in the tiny office, searching for an air freshener or other potential source of the offending odor. A crammed bookshelf housed ancient books on office management with spines cracked and peeling. A multitude of photos of dogs appeared to be a substitute for the children she didn’t have.

Nothing around that could explain the smell.

“Then there are herbal teas you could try instead of all that coffee—”

“Mrs. Shaw.” There was still a chance there was another explanation.

She looked at me blankly.

“What kind of herbal tea are you drinking?” I eyed the offensive cup, holding my breath, trying to stop the infusion of cinnamon aroma only I noticed. Praying the little cup was harboring some kind of cinnamon tea with the ability to overtake the entire room with its fragrance.

She smiled, like a proud teacher realizing her student was paying attention. “Why, it’s strawberry crème.” She nodded at the notepad beside the phone, as if waiting for me to write this vital information. “A delicious, refreshing beverage for the afternoon when you need to wind down. Though my personal favorite is—”

“I think I’ll just buy a mixed box.” Hoping she didn’t notice the beads of perspiration forming on my skin. “Then I can try all the flavors.” Signing the bottom of the application proved difficult with my shaking hand.

I had to get out of this office.

“I hate to take up all of your time, Mrs. Shaw. I appreciate your suggestions. Really, I do.” Banging my knees against the wooden desk as I stood, but I didn’t let the discomfort deter me. I babbled what I thought employers wanted to hear. “I need to go settle in and get ready for my first day.”

“Oh, why yes, of course.” Mrs. Shaw straightened and folded her hands neatly on her desk, appearing embarrassed she’d lagged from her professional role to chat.

“Thank you, again.” I quickly left the office, regretting having to end the meeting abruptly. Developing a little rapport with her could be essential in getting information. But judging by the cinnamon aura, my time was limited.

I staggered into the bar, as if I’d had one too many drinks. The clacking of ice cubes, as they dropped into glasses, sounded like hammers pounding. Pressing my hand against my head didn’t alleviate the thudding in my skull.

The fluorescent lights weighed on my eyelids, and attacked my pupils. I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing the taste of bile rising as it reached the back of my throat. When I opened them, Ritchie gained a twin as my vision blurred and distorted.

I took in each of the bar patrons through a cracked eyelid. Spending most of my life in an orphanage, then hopping from town to town with Tessa had provided me with an elevated survival instinct.

It wasn’t anyone in here.

Somehow, I found strength in my legs to continue, and rather than risk passing out in the bar, I staggered toward the exit. Digging in my pocket, I located my old, bent sunglasses as I gulped the fresh air. I’d inhaled the equivalent of a pack of cigarettes in second hand smoke from the bar, yet my mouth still tasted cinnamon.

I started toward my car then stopped short, almost tripping over my own feet. My relief was out here somewhere, but looking around through cracked lids showed nothing. I was alone in the parking lot. If I didn’t find the source soon, the migraine would overtake me, making it my shortest employment record to date.

Something rustled in the woods, and I swung my head in that direction. The denseness surrounding this place contributed to my sense of foreboding. The trees swayed in the wind, branches hanging so low they appeared to be clutching at the top of the tombstones. The birds chattered. Pressing my hands over my ears, I tried to shut the noise out, along with the sound of the masks rattling against the signpost, their empty eyeholes and gaping mouths frozen in a blind, silent scream.

Holding my hands against my head and squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a guttural yell as I fell to my knees.

All went absolutely silent.

I let out my breath and opened my eyes halfway, testing the effect of the light. I lowered my hands from my ears to look around the vacant, silent parking lot.

A phone rang, shattering the silence. The birds called out, then exited en masse from the treetops.

I absently patted my cell phone in my pocket, but it wasn’t my ringtone, and my battery was dead. Scanning outside the bar, I located a lone payphone barely hanging on to the corner of the building as if in homage to a past era.

I struggled to stand, moving my legs toward the summoning ring. The scent of cinnamon began to lessen and subside. The ache in my head faltered, and the assault on my senses reached a plateau.

I’d found my pain reliever.

Unable to restrain the unexplainable urge any longer, I sprinted to the phone. Once I placed my hand on the phone, it stopped ringing. The headache subsided like a beast retreating into its cave until summoned again.

I put the receiver to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hope. Don’t trust him.” A soothing and somewhat familiar male voice whispered.

“Who? Don’t trust who?”

Static filled the line.

“Who is this?” I pressed the receiver tighter, squinting toward the woods and around the parking lot.

“Come to us. I’ll show you the way,” the caller beckoned.

“How?”

“Take a chance. You’ll see it’s your destiny.”

Chief opened the bar door. “Just what in tarnation are you doin’?”

The line went dead in my hand. I stared at the silent receiver. “I was on a call.”

Chief scowled. “That darn phone hasn’t worked in years. I reckon the whole side of the building would cave in if I tried to take it off, so I leave the bucket of rust there.” He spit tobacco on the ground. “How could it work since some critters done chewed through the cord a while ago?”

He eyed me with suspicion. “A call you say, um, who was you talkin’ to, then?”

My anger deflated as the severed, twisted wires from the cord brushed against my leg. “I don’t know.”

****

Avoiding the potholes proved challenging while navigating the narrow dirt lane leading to the main road. Driving Pennsylvania’s unkempt back roads as winter and spring battled for supremacy wouldn’t have been my first choice for a trip. But it was good to be focusing on doing something, rather than dwelling on how inadequate I’d felt since Tessa was murdered.

I refused to say suicide. She wouldn’t have done that. Something had done that to her. I’d seen it. It wasn’t a
figment of my imagination,
like the cop said. Not that he’d had to say it. I’d seen the looks passing among the ambulance crew as they consoled me.

I passed farmland and homes far from the road and isolated by the surrounding dense woods. Even though this town was tucked right on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, it didn’t look like it. The trees were close together with a few larger ones hanging over the road, blocking the sunlight from view. The further I traveled, the more I felt as if the woods were swallowing me up.

“Don’t trust him.”
The eerie words echoed in my mind.

“Don’t trust who?” I wondered aloud. I’d encountered more than one potential candidate already.

I glanced into the rearview mirror, barely able to see out the back window with the piles of boxes, old food bags, and shoes. Why I was going to stay in an apartment offered to me by some crazy, old lady was beyond me, but not trusting anyone was how I’d lived my life as Jane. That life was over. Now I was Hope.

A loud thud jerked the car to the right, and I fought to steer the wheel toward the side of the road as the
thud, thud, thud
continued. The car shook and shuddered until I brought it to a stop and stepped out. Confirming what I already knew, I kicked the rim of the deflated tire. “That’s just great.” Popping the trunk, I willed a spare tire to appear, as well as a mechanic to replace the flat.

Both were equally unlikely. I’d taken out the spare tire to make extra room for my stuff.
How often do you get a flat tire?
I had belongings I didn’t want to leave behind more valuable than an old tire.

I ran my hands over the goose bumps springing up on my arms while surveying my surroundings. Barren trees and scrub as far as I could see. The bar was at least five miles behind me. If I remembered correctly, I’d hit the main road in about a mile if I continued on foot. Surely, town couldn’t be far from there. I grabbed a jacket and my purse then wrapped a scarf around my neck.

After about a mile, the screaming of my thighs reminded me of my nonexistent exercise routine.

My only company was the sound of wildlife sneaking through the woods, or at least I thought it was wildlife. I glanced over my shoulder repeatedly, expecting a mammoth of a man wearing a hockey mask to lumber from the woods intent on hacking me to pieces.

These images kept my pace steady despite my fatigue.

The sound of my labored breathing became apparent…because it was the only sound.

I stopped and strained my ears, inhaling deeply to slow my breath. The stillness of the woods weighed heavy. I looked down the road I’d traveled and then toward my destination.

Nothing.

The occasional crackling of twigs in the woods had stopped, as had the birds. Even the swaying of the trees had ceased, the gentle breeze stilled.

It was dead silent.

Squinting into the depths of the thick woods, I tilted my head and saw…something.

There was a large black area.
Was that moss? Or tree bark?

It stood out in the green and brown setting, seeming out of place. I squinted.
Maybe an oddly shaped tree?

Then it moved.

Just a little bit, kind of like a ripple in the scenery or a wave of water at the beach. But one thing for sure, it wasn’t a tree. I stumbled back, tripped over my foot, and fell on my ass, knocking the air and all rational thought from my mind.

The black form was in motion now, heading toward me. I scrambled back, crab-like, until my fingers dug into slushy snow when I reached the other side of the road. I struggled to get to my feet, pushing up into a squatting position but unable to stand. The air around me thickened to the consistency of pudding, as if a weight pressed me down, making every movement an effort.

I hunkered down with my hands on the ground in front of me, as if at the start of the race. Actually I was, but had no idea what I was running from, only that it wasn’t human.

I fought to lift my head a few inches, unable to suppress a moan. Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran down my face, despite the chilly air. When I couldn’t move any further, I strained to lift my eyelids to face whatever was coming. I didn’t have to see anything to know something was there. I could feel it. But I had to see, to know if this thing was what had killed Tessa.

The trees rustled as they parted for its passage, then I got a look. The new buds and sprouting spring leaves on the trees weren’t parting. They were withering and dying as the creature passed through them. Large branches snapped and fell to the ground. The buds blackened and disintegrated into dust as the black cloud making up the form approached.

The figure waxed and waned into a human-like form then back to a cluster of blackness and distress. A monster was the only way to describe it. I felt it more than saw it, as the creature struggled to compose itself into a form but failed. It was as if all the self-loathing, bitterness, and hate in Hell had come packaged in this thing.

With my head bowed, I awaited my fate to descend upon me. I whimpered, too tired to lift my head. All the effort, all the stress, was exhausting. How could I get justice for Tessa? I was just one person.

I laid my head on the road.

Chapter Three

“Go find your family.”

Tessa’s last request surfaced in my mind as I lay on the road. It had been written in my birthday card I’d found when I went through her things.

Tessa was the only person who’d been there for me. The closest I’d had to a mother, but now I was an orphan for the second time around.

Silently I’d promised to avenge her when I’d knelt beside her lifeless body. Giving up now, to be crushed by a walking wall of hate after I’d come this far, was no way to do that.