Original Souls (A World Apart #1) (3 page)

There are twenty of us. We moved out in teams of five. Each in a different direction down the four paths at this total five-way intersection. Geary walked up behind me and to my left. From my peripheral view, I saw him looking just as mischievous and immature as usual, with his light brown mop hair flopping around on his head. Don't want to lose sight of him or else h
e’
ll likely wander off and get himself killed. He's always a part of my sub-team. So, Geary, the team, and I took the path directly ahead that veered slightly to the right of the other dank tunnel next to it. No sooner than we entered the walkway, and passed beyond the second light swinging from the ceiling like the remnants of a hanging, did we see something that changed the mission entirely. The boy . . . my bo
y
—

<*>

I woke up with a small light beaming into my left eye. It almost seemed like a laser pointer, or even a strobe light, because it kept shifting back and forth. It's as if it were looking for something specific. It seemed liked a few hours blew by. My mind took hold of me, and I began to wonder why is it that only my left eye is open? I tried to open the right one, but it wouldn't budge.

Another few hours seemed to pass while I tried to focus on opening my right eye. Slowly, I realized that I couldn't feel the rest of body either. Nothing about me seemed to be responsive, except my left eye. The laser light continued to bounce around my retina, as it began to let in other shapes and figures hovering over me. I made out a few of the reflected images, and saw a man in a white coat. There was a woman beside him. She wore a white outfit as well, but it fit different about her frame. She had a hat on, too, and like everything else, it was white.

Suddenly, I started feeling a certain part of my body reawakening. My neck, the left side of my neck started tingling. The feeling became increasingly profound, and it began traveling through my chest and down my arm. It started to burn . . . bad! My body was on fire before I knew it. It felt like I was engulfed in flames. Every limb started freaking out, jerking like a seizure. Then, I sporadically shot up off whatever surface I was lying on into the stratosphere. My body had suddenly been brought back to life by some strange force of nature.

I'd imagine that force to be an adrenaline shot. Could
n’
t be much else, could it? I didn't realize they were distributed from the neck nowadays. I was in a docto
r’
s office, or a hospital room, whichever you call it. Something I did know for sure was that these two had just saved my lif
e—
I hope? I don't know how I could've sustained a life threatening injury in the first place, but why over think it? I turned to the doctor and his nurse to thank them, when a sudden slap came across my fragile feeling face. It came from an oddly thin, yet somehow familiar hand.

"Julia!" I yelled in surprise when I turned to see my attacker. My wife threw her arms around me in dismay. She appeared somewhat happy, but her grasp was weak and tired. She hung on to me for what seemed like several hours. But at this point, I'm totally convinced that my sense of time is as dead as my body was just a few moments ago.

The woman I thought to be an everyday nurse turned out to be my wife, Dr. Julia Gambit. Though she was a doctor, she always dressed in a nurse's uniform. I guess it helped her identify more with her female coworkers, who were larger in number among nurses than doctors. The uniform fit her perfectly. However, her body looked surprisingly thin. Not that she'd ever been anything but a shapely woman, but this looked to be the result of stress. Long hours and little sleep will do that to you. Especially when your husband goes on assignment for weeks at a time. Not to mention . . . your only child has been missing without a trace for nearly two years.

Julia had definitely thinned out. Her waist nearly disappeared inside that uniform, but the beige belt wrapped around her mid section saved the look. From there,the rest of the button up outfit closely hugged what was left of her curves. It was a short dress, coming just above her knees revealing the tapered end of the long white stockings she was wearing. Paired then with the clunky white shoes all the nurses and docs wore. They helped them to cope with being on their feet for so many hours at a time. Most spouses would have the opportunity to notice a drastic change in their wife's appearance, but not me. Ever since Corinth's disappearance, Julia and I have had an icy relationship. She had a lot of grief and resentment towards me. It's all behind those shiny green eyes that she wo
n’
t let me look into right now.

She, understandably, blamed me for Corinth's kidnapping. After all, I was a specialist in the field. I've apprehended more criminals, rescued more children, and even adults from the hands of their captors than most. Corinth's kidnapper could have been some vengeful fool whose plans I ruined years ago. Though Squadron checked for connections like that when he went missing, and nothing particular came up. Still, Julia couldn't escape the thought that if she hadn't been with me, if she married a man with a less dangerous profession, she'd still have her son to tuck into bed at night. We virtually became an estranged couple after that. It's the worst thing in the world to not know where your child is at night. What condition they'll possibly be found in. Whether they're dead or alive? It was too much to bear, so I'd go on several long-range assignments to escape our problems. They took me and my men far from Draconia at times. It was selfish to leave her alone to deal with the aftermath. But it felt like the world I knew was collapsing around me, and I just had to get out.

"Are you okay, Cris?" Julia asked in her silky voice.

"No," I said flatly, "I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Tha
t’
s just a small side effect of the Booster Shot the other doctor injected into you," she informed me, like some sort of hospital official.

"So, that's what that was," I offered with a timid voice, because I didn't really know what else to say. Here I was, speechless, sitting on a hospital bed looking at my wife's brown hair swooped across-her forehead. A white nurs
e’
s hat trapping the rest of her long locks underneath it. I couldn't see her face because she still wouldn't look up at me. It made me feel like scum for not being able to comfort her. "What's wrong, Julia?" I asked with as much sensitivity as I could choke out of my voice.

Her hardened exterior cracked up at the sound of my voice, fell to bits of several untraceable fragments. "It's Corinth, Criston, he's . . . he's!"

"He's what?" I shouted abruptly, her tone seemed so out of context. I had just seen my son for the first time in what felt like years on years, and he actually appeared fine. Absolutely fine! I thought they had him in another room. Somewhere safe! The statement, 'i
t’
s Corinth!' started to echo in my mind. A million thoughts ran through my head when she said Corinth's name. It may be hard to believe, but I had almost forgotten that we found him the way we did. Though just having seen his bright face is the reason I'm in the hospital. "What, Julia?" I pressed on. "What's wrong with Corinth?"

"He's dead, Criston!" she cried.

"No!" I shouted. "No, that ... that's not possible. I found him alive! Our son is alive," I grabbed her face with both hands and cried out from my gut. "I looked him in the eyes, and I saw him move, Julia. I heard him speak. He was more than just alive ... he was, he wa
s—
"

"No, Criston, he's not," she interrupted, as she slapped my hands away. "The boy is dead!" she yelled, "and it's your fault!"

That hit me like a ton of bricks. She finally said those words that I dreaded hearing for so long. She had never voiced her true feelings about the abduction. Normally, she avoided talking about the situation all together. She eluded and indirectly indicted me, but things must have come to a head for her.

I suppose I could have imagined he was alive when I saw his face, but it all seemed so vivid. Finding out that he's dead is too surreal to take seriously. Then again, I had always dreamed that we'd find Corinth alive, and I'm sure Julia has too. I guess that's why it's so hard for her, and why she now is so readily admitting her belief that his disappearance is somehow my fault.

But something she said is eating at me. She called Corinth, 'the boy.' For a grieving mother it sounds so cold and distant. Two traits that Julia does not possess. Again, her appearance comes to mind. Her eyes are filled with a rage I've never seen in her before. Likewise, I thought before her weight is considerably lower than just three weeks ago. There are many reasonable answers to these questionable thoughts. But I now know for sure that I saw a living breathing boy in need of help, just before I passed out.

I know this, because as I stare at the hostile woman standing in front of me, I realize that her eyes aren't green. As Julia's eyes are. They're red! Gente Peligroso!

<*>

She was fast! This witch saw me reach for the golden key dangling from the silver chain around my neck, before I realized that she had swiped it away from my grasp. I'm nearly defenseless without my llave. I ca
n’
t wield a touch of magik without it. And she just knocked it halfway across the hospital room. But, of course, she definitely has hers right when she needs it most.

She took two large steps back, within the square room, and quickly tossed the llave into midair. As always, these keys stop from their free fall just as they reach the space that connects your heart, mind and soul. In the middle of your chest is the central focus of your perceptions, emotions, and most of all . . . your strength. This is where the special power of magik exists. I looked into those red eyes as she circled the room. I moved too, as her llave kept with her, rotating midair at her chest. It was clear that she was fixated on destroying me.

I stepped as far back against the white walls as I could go, but this room is so small. I guess they planned this well. Keep me held up in a tight space so that there was no chance of escape. They definitely sent one of their best to finish me off. Why they didn't destroy me while I was unconscious is a question for another time, because this chick is striking like a cobra. She started at me, jumping forward only to take two steps back. I see now that she's hesitating to do her worst. So, I figure this is a perfect opportunity to maneuver myself toward my llave lying on the floor across this brightly lit room. But I have to do it without her noticing where my attention is focused. She's quick, but small and her face holds a hint of apprehension. I saw my opening and took the chance.

I zipped across the room diagonally, pushing off the front of my toes as hard as I could. I ducked and rolled on the ground forward, and then I slid with one leg out, trying to knock her over. But somehow, she was still faster. I guess her blinking wasn't my opening after all. She jumped high to get out of the way, twisting her body midair and turning to face the opposite direction. She came-back down to the surface with a fierce stomp on the ground that I could have sworn rattled the entire hospital room. She met me face to face, as I redirected my body, lying on the cold floor reaching toward my llave. She was bent over me like an oversized cheetah. Her llave spinning in my face as a grim reminder of how much she was in control. But then a bright idea came to mind. If I can't have my llav
e—
then why should she have hers?

I feel bad, but I reached up from the floor and punched this girl in her face so hard that I don't think she'll wake for an earthquake. She was down for the count, and her llave dropped out of its familiar rotation a moment later. When it did, so does fall this illusion that I'm in a hospital room. It's amazing what magik can do. I hadn't even left the area just beyond the five-way intersection. The one me and my men met, what was most likely, just moments ago in real time. But minus my men and Corinth. My biggest concern is whether Corinth was a part of that illusion, orif he was really here? Wel
l
… there's only one way to find out. I've got to wake the dead.

I walked over to where the poor girl lay. I picked up the golden skeleton key that is my llave, and hers too, from behind her sprawled out body on the smooth gray cement ground. Sh
e’
s pretty in her own right. Black hair, ghostly white skin, with rosy cheeks. She almost looked delightfully gothic. If those two things have an almost point between them. She's young, as I know it, the Gente Peligroso is mostly composed of teen runaways. Though, this girl was more skilled than the average runaway to step up an Adlucinatio, or trap illusion, of that caliber. Sh
e’
s most likely too young to know anything about the cursed language, so I'm sure she set up that illusion in plain English.