Paranormal Realities Box Set (8 page)

Outside a red and rust Mustang, probably
1980s vintage, sat at the curb.

“My chariot awaits.” Rom made a sweeping
arm gesture toward the car.

“Wow,” I exclaimed running toward the
Mustang. “I didn’t know you had your license already.”

What a dumb thing to say
, I thought. Talk about stating the
obvious. Duh.

“I have attained my sixteenth year,” Rom
said with a smile.

We both reached for the passenger door
handle at the same time, but Rom beat me to it. Opening the door, he waited
while I got inside before he closed it after me. I have to admit it made me
feel pretty special.

A short drive later, we came to a stop in
the parking lot of Forsyth Park. Rom twisted toward me in the seat.

“I am thinking we dine in the air.” He
pointed to the picnic basket in the back seat.

“You mean al fresco?”

He grinned. “Just so.”

Grinning back I threw my hands up.
“Sounds great to me.”

The fast setting sun just peaked over the
tree line as we walked down the center of the park, talking about school. Rom
laughed about an incident in his math class and I noted that I’d almost received
detention in science class. We made our way past the civil war monument at the
park’s center, and then veered off eastward toward the band shell area.

A few people jogged the perimeter of the
park. A dozen or so sat lounging on the grass or were milling about on the
interior sidewalks. But as no music activities were taking place tonight, our
destination was relatively empty. The band shell was situated with a fountain
at its front shooting water in two separate arcs. Along the backside was a concrete
building known as the Fort, which had been used for troop maneuvers during WWI
and now housed a visitor center and a coffee shop.

The stage, defined by a semi-circle of
columns and topped by a white sail shaped roof, was vacant. After proceeding
onto the stage, Rom placed the picnic basket down, opened it and took out a
blanket, which he then spread out for us to sit on. The rest of the basket's
contents consisted of drinks, sandwiches and chips. I might have spotted
brownies in there too. We made short order of unpacking the food and drink.

The western sky went pink and gold as the
sunset.

“Where are you from?” After taking a sip
from a soda can, I nibbled on the sandwich. Tuna.

Rom didn’t answer. He merely stared down
at the blanket under us, tracing the geometric pattern that covered it with his
index finger.

After a few seconds I broke the silence.

“What’s the matter? Is the information
classified or something? If so, I’m cool with it.”

“I lack understanding of this phrase 'I’m
cool with it.'” Rom glanced up at me.
 
You say you are cold?” He made a motion to stand. “My jacket will
assist.”

“No.” I laughed and waved him back into a
sitting position. “I’m cool with it means that it’s okay. If you don’t want to
tell me where you’re from, it’s fine.”

“Accord.” He nodded. “But no secret
exists. My country is known as Augustinia. I live in the great city of New
Rome.”

“You mean you used to live there. You
live here now.”

He seemed surprised by my words. After a
few seconds his expression cleared. “Accord."

I searched my memory but came up with
nothing.

“I never heard of Augustinia.”

“Many a place exists of which you lack
awareness,” Rom said picking up a second sandwich.

“You’re probably right about that.” I played
with the chain around my neck. “I never was much good at geography.

“The necklace you wear. The design has
familiarity.” Rom took a bite and chewed. My goodness he was handsome even when
he chewed.

“Yes.” I pulled it from my cleavage to
show the swirling circle metal disc at the end. “It’s where I got part of the
design for my tag.”

“Tag?”

“The symbol I use to mark when I’m
spelunking. It’s a big K with this counterclockwise swirl on the end.”

“There is appearance of age in the
necklace,” he observed.

“My grandmother gave it to me when I was
five, just before she died. The charm belonged to her mother—my father's
grandmother.” My voice choked on the word father. Tears burned my eyes and I
blinked them away.

Rom dropped the sandwich and curled his
hand around mine, tangling our fingers together. In amazement I stared at him
as he bent his head and brought my hand to his mouth. His soft lips gently
brushed against my skin and I had to blink hard again to keep tears from
falling, this time for a different reason.

Still clasping my hand, Rom leaned toward
me and pressed his lips to mine in a soft caress. I’d never been kissed before.
At least not by someone who wasn't related to me...And certainly not by a
gorgeous guy.

Hoping I was doing it right, I held my
breath and closed my eyes. Tingles radiated from my lips outward in my body
like a sunburst as his mouth moved on mine. Then it was over.

Pulling back, we smiled at one another.
Rom retrieved his sandwich and took another bite, chewing and smiling at the
same time.

I rushed into conversation to cover my
awkwardness.

“I wonder how the crew are doing with the
race.”

He swallowed. “They have not gone to the
hospital, I think.”

“No, they’ve gone to the railroad
roundhouse.” I picked up my sandwich, but couldn't take a bite. Too many
butterflies inhabited my stomach and there was no room for more tuna.

“Excellent.” Rom bit into the sandwich
again. After he swallowed, Rom smiled again and it soon turned to a grin. “This
dining together has more pleasure than spelunking.”

He seemed way too pleased with himself.

“Yes,” I said tentatively. “But you
really can’t compare—”

“The spelunking leads to injury.” He took
a bite of sandwich and chewed. He gestured toward my leg. “This continues to
cause pain?”

“Not really.” I wasn't sure where this
but I didn't like it.

“You do not spelunk again, I think.”

“Huh?”

“You do not spelunk,” he said.

“Do you want Pepperoni with that?”

“I lack understanding of pepperoni.” Rom
lost his smile.

“Well, since you were issuing orders I
thought I would check.”

“I do not want you hurt again,” Rom said.
“This is preference. So I ask you to dine.”

Did he mean what I thought he meant?

"So this is a pity date?" I
felt my lips compress in an angry line. “That’s quite generous of you.”

Rom blinked and swallowed hard. "I
understand not.”

“I’m talking about this favor you’ve done
me. Asking me out on this date so I wouldn’t get hurt again.”

He held up a hand. “You lack
understanding.”

“No, I think I understand you perfectly.”
Throwing down my napkin, I rose. “I’m not anyone’s charity case. You can take
your favor and go cram yourself down the nearest manhole.”

Rom leaped to his feet.

“In fact, I think I’ll just go on a
little spelunk right now.” I extracted the phone from my purse and quickly
texted Senji for his location. Spinning on my heel, I stomped away.

“Kizzy!” Rom shouted coming along beside
me. “You lack reason.”

“If I’m unreasonable, why don’t you just
go home and leave me to my own business.” I marched toward the park’s
perimeter.

At home I slammed the door behind me. Mom
came running.

“Honey, what—”

“We had a fight.” Taking the steps two at
a time I shouted back over my shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I
closed my bedroom door with a loud crash and threw myself onto the bed, fuming.

“Creep! How dare he …” not be totally
infatuated with me. “Charity case am I?” True his concern about me getting
injured again was kind of sweet and he had followed me all the way to our front
door on foot. But still I didn’t want a pity date. And what about the kiss? Had
that been pity too?

My phone pinged and the face bore a text
from
Senji: @
d hsptl
.

“Those idiots.” I texted back:
Dnt go n.

Jumping up, I toed off my sandals and
crammed on my sneakers. I didn’t want to take the time to fully change my
clothes. This would be the first time I’d been spelunking in a dress. But what
if the stupid tunnel collapsed in on them before I could get there? My jacket
with gloves and flashlight in the pocket hung on the back of the desk chair. I
grabbed the jacket, pushed my arms through it and then bolted out the window.

Each minute it took to reach the hospital
seemed like an hour even though I ran the entire way. When I got there, I
didn’t see Petra, Senji or any of the crew. None of the BQs seemed to be around
either. I'd received no text from Senji, so I tried calling. No answer. Petra.
No answer.

I hopped the front fence, not taking the
time to go all the way to the gate. Something drew my attention to a wrought
iron banister near the hospital’s south east wall. The area of the tunnel’s
entrance was under this banister unless I’d been completely turned around the
night before last night.

On investigation, I found a cardboard
planking that, when pulled back, revealed a short flight of narrow concrete
steps leading down to an arched entry about four feet in height. The wood door,
much of it rotting, wobbled loosely when I rattled the knob, but the lock held.

Bracing my hands against the concrete
walls of the stairwell, I brought my foot up and rammed a kick against the
door. The wood adjacent to the old lock split. Another kick and it splintered,
leaving a hole large enough for my hand—without gloves—to get
through.

I felt inside for the lever on the metal
box containing the skeleton key lock. When I finally, found it, I heard the
tiny click, which signaled my success. Upon opening the door, I found myself in
an alcove leading into a familiar corridor.

Hearing no noise around me, I texted
Senji:
Am hre.
U@?

A new text pinged back:
gr8.

Did that indicate happiness at my arrival
or his location at the grate entrance to the tunnel? Dammit.

As I made my way to the grate, the
flashlight beam abruptly began to flicker and I slowed my pace. Hitting the end
of the stupid thing with the butt of my palm brought the flickering to a stop.
I tripped over something underfoot causing me to stumble and crash to a
kneeling position on the hard floor in the midst of a puddle.

Carefully, I rose and examined myself. At
least the dress wasn't soaked, merely a bit damp along the hem. However, the
bandage on my shin was a total loss so I peeled it off and tossed it down.
After retrieving the flashlight, I continued on to the grate. Once there I saw
the barest of lights visible from below through the slats. I heard voices
shouting at one another. Although I couldn’t make out the words, I recognized
Senji and Franky, and at least two others.

I lifted the grate and set it aside
before climbing through and lowering myself. Ahead, the tunnel lay brightly
illuminated by battery operated construction site lights on tripods. Billy and
Quinn stood near the brick wall while Juliette hovered nervously nearby. Billy
had a chisel and hammer. He worked at the mortar while Quinn pried out bricks
before tossing them aside. They had a good third of the wall down already.

Franky, paced next to Juliette talking to
her but I couldn’t hear him over Senji’s shouts. As Billy and Quinn worked,
Senji yelled at them to stop.

“We were here first,” Senji screamed.
“You’re cheating, you total dicks.”

 
“What’s cheating? You aren’t at the morgue first. We are.”
Billy chuckled, continuing to tap the chisel.

“Guys stop.” I rushed forward. “You could
make the tunnel collapse.”

“Ha,” Billy said. “If it isn’t crazy
Kizzy.” He didn’t stop. Neither did Quinn.

“Come on. Don’t be stupid.” I walked
toward them. “People got killed here a couple years ago. That’s probably when
they put up the wall.”

“Nice try.” He said glanced over his
shoulder. “But we’re going to win this race. You squares are gonna be outa the
spelunking business.”

“That’s enough.” Quinn tossed down one
last brick. “We can climb over the rest.”

Senji, who’d been holding a length of
curled up rope, dropped it and charged forward. He grappled up the half-wall
but was quickly plucked off by Quinn and flung to the ground. Billy held back a
scrabbling Franky before pushing him easily into a sitting position.

Hoisting himself over the remaining
bricks, Billy entered the gap first followed closely by Quinn. They disappeared
for a few moments. After a while, Billy’s head appeared over the bricks.