Soul Catcher (11 page)

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Authors: G.P. Ching

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Soul Catcher
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“I don’t want to. I think Michigan would be a good choice for me. I want to see the campus.”

She shook her head, lowered her voice, and checked over her shoulder. “We talked about this. You can’t go. You have to help with the farm. I told you about your father’s health.”

Dane looked her straight in the eye. “And I told you, I’d help in the spring while you guys figured out what to do, but I’m going to college. I’m eighteen and I don’t expect you to pay for it. But this farm, this life, isn’t for me. I don’t know how to be clearer about that.”

Tears flowed down his mother’s cheeks anew, triggering his heart to make a guilt-driven swan dive into his gut. He placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her but wasn’t sure what to say. Any retraction would be a lie.

“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out, boy,” his dad drawled from the door. Behind him, Ethan waited on the porch, jaw clenched against the tension the old man was putting off. “Get gone. Can’t stand looking at you, making your mother cry. Maybe some miles’ll snap your head on right. Otherwise, don’t bother coming back. If you don’t think you belong here, you don’t get to be here.”

His mother gasped. This wasn’t a threat, but a promise. Dane grabbed his bag off the table and squeezed through the door his father propped open. His old man didn’t budge, and Dane was forced to brush against his chest to fit past him. At the contact, his dad narrowed his eyes and shot Ethan a dirty look. The screen door slammed as he disappeared inside.

“So, I take it your family isn’t supportive of our trip?” Ethan said as they strode down the porch steps.

“Blatant statement of the obvious.”

“How bad is it?”

Dane climbed into the truck Ethan was driving, Jacob’s blue monster, and leaned his head against the seat. “Bad enough that I might have to find somewhere else to live when I get back.” A stifling pause eventually caused him to turn his head to face Ethan.

The guy grimaced at the steering wheel. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? They know I’m gay and think I’m a bad influence. I should have sent Bonnie to get you. No, then they might think you were fooling around with her. I should have sent Jacob—”

“Stop.” Dane shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. Let’s get out of here. Please.” He glanced through the windshield at his mother’s scowling face framed in the kitchen window.

Ethan turned the key and pulled out of the driveway, then headed south, away from town. “Okay. Talk.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. It’s true my dad is a total homophobe, and he didn’t love the idea of me traveling with you.”

Ethan slapped the steering wheel. “How did he know? Am I that obvious? It’s not like a wear a sign around my neck.”

“Ethan, my dad thinks any man who isn’t actively chasing the nearest female tail is gay. Believe me, it’s not obvious, but I did tell him because it was important to me that he knows the truth.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Listen, that’s not why they’re angry, just a stupid excuse.” Dane fussed with the radio but none of the stations soothed his temper. “My ancestors have farmed this land for over a century. My parents are upset because I’m the oldest boy and I have no interest in taking it over. None at all.”

“You don’t want to be a farmer.”

“No.”

“What do you want to be?”

Dane laughed. “I have no frickin’ idea.”

“Oh.”

“When I was younger, I just assumed I didn’t have any other choice. Then after Auriel and Hell, well, you might say the rest of my life is more important to me now than it used to be. I’m not as willing to fall on my sword to preserve the family plot. I was honest about my feelings, and my parents didn’t like it. They think if I go away to college that I’ll never come back, and they’re probably right.”

“They won’t take no for an answer, huh?”

“Or any other words, including ‘maybe after I get my degree.’”

“So it’s more about the freedom to choose than the choice.”

“Well said.”

“What’s the big deal, anyway? What about your brother and sister?”

“My dad still thinks a woman can’t run a farm and Walter...let’s just say he’s not the sharpest tool in the family shed.”

“So that leaves you.”

“It gets worse. My dad’s sick. This ‘Who’s going to take over the farm?’ question may need to be answered sooner than later.”

Ethan leaned his elbow against his window and whistled. “That’s heavy, Dane. What are you going to do?”

Running his hands through his hair, Dane sighed deeply. “I’m going to find Cheveyo and help you Soulkeepers bring him home. When I get back…” He shrugged. Maybe things would blow over. Or maybe he’d be looking for a new place to live.

The hum of the engine filled the space between them. Ethan opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Good. Dane was done talking about it. It was a hopeless situation. He closed his eyes and rested the side of his head against the window.

Ten minutes later, Ethan announced, “We’re here.”

He turned up the driveway to a farmhouse that looked like a strong wind might knock it over. Holes peppered the roof, and weeds hadn’t quite conquered the junkyard-worthy machinery abandoned in the front yard. A porch swing dangled precariously from one chain, the other long since rusted through. Jacob sat on the porch, feet dangling over the side, while Bonnie and Samantha huddled together near the front door, and Ghost, in his sunglasses, waited almost imperceptibly in the shadow of an elm tree at the front of the pebble drive.

“It’s about time,” Jacob said to them, jumping from his perch. “I was beginning to think you crashed my baby.”

Ethan looked offended. “Not a scratch.” He glanced at Dane expectantly, as if
he
were going to explain why they were late! No way. No one else needed to know how messed up his home life was.

“What are we doing here?” Dane changed the subject, hitching his backpack higher on his shoulder.

Jacob seemed to measure his reluctance to expound on their lateness and didn’t pursue an answer. “Some of you may have heard that my great-great-grandfather kept some unusual stones in his office. We’d never understood their purpose, until now. Seems Abigail finally asked Archibald the right questions. Come on.” He picked up a weighted velvet sack near his feet and led the way through the unlocked front door.

The team filed into the farmhouse after him, Dane and Ethan entering the dingy interior last. The living room was a yard sale gone wrong with a threadbare woven rug and mismatched chair and sofa. The house stank like the inside of a rotting stump.

Jacob led them into a bedroom, empty aside from a bed frame with a water-stained mattress. He opened the closet door. A couple of wire hangers clinked together from the draft. Setting the bag down, he reached into its velvet folds and produced a large purple geode. He placed the stone on the floor inside the closet.

“Turns out that Warwick Laudner didn’t just stumble on the cavern under his flower shop. He created it. Of course, he used his special abilities to make that one permanent. We, on the other hand, need something more temporary.” He placed his hands on the rough back of the stone and closed his eyes. “This part takes a bit of effort.”

Purple light filled the tiny space, growing brighter and brighter until Dane had to shield his eyes. The other Soulkeepers crowded in around him, maybe to get a better look at what Jacob was doing, but Dane couldn’t see anything to know for sure. Moments passed. When the blinding force faded to a manageable glow, an icy breeze blew through the small room. He lowered his hand.

“Whoa,” Samantha said. “I hope everyone knows how to ski.”

The floor of the closet had extended another twenty feet. Two large racks of ski equipment, jackets, and goggles lined the walls. Beyond the wood planks, a snow-covered slope dropped steeply, disappearing into a cluster of evergreens.

“I skied once when I was eleven,” Dane said.

“The stones create a different challenge every time,” Jacob said. “But they are all equally daunting. I think it’s meant to keep non-Soulkeepers out.”

Everyone stared at Dane in various states of unease. Ghost piped up some encouragement. “If it makes you feel any better, Dane, I’ve never skied before, ever. Grew up in Hawaii, remember?”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “It helps if you can break apart when you’re about to hit a tree.”

“Uh…yeah.” With an awkward shrug, Ghost wandered further into the closet and started checking sizes. The girls followed.

Jacob slapped Dane on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Malini’s seen you in Arizona and you’re not dead. It’s easier than it looks...probably.”

“You can still change your mind,” Ethan said softly.

Dane shook his head. “No. I can’t. I’m part of this.” Resolved, he stepped in behind Ghost, grabbing a navy blue jacket off the hook.


Into
the closet,” Ethan said. “This feels wrong on so many levels.”

Everyone laughed except for Bonnie, who was overly absorbed with putting on her ski boots. Both girls were fully dressed and ready to go in a matter of minutes. “Our family takes a ski trip to Vail every year,” Bonnie explained, then added under her breath, “Well, we used to before we were prisoners of Eden.”

Jacob rolled his eyes but didn’t justify her complaint with a response. “Go ahead.” He gestured toward the slope. “Your mom’s waiting on the other side.”

Bonnie didn’t waste any time. Pulling down her goggles, she smiled and leapt over the threshold. “Woot!” She traversed the slope and slipped behind the trees.

Samantha glanced toward Ghost, who was snapping on his last ski. “Catch me if you can!” She launched herself over the edge, laughing as she zipped into the trees.

“Well, comrades, I’m not the type of man to keep a woman waiting.” Ghost’s purple eyes flashed before he lowered his goggles. Slowly, he walked his way over the edge and let the pull of gravity drag him down the hill. “Oooooh crap!” he yelled, pushing his heels out to slow his momentum. Still, he fell on his butt twice before reaching the tree line.

“Are these boots supposed to be this stiff?” Dane asked Jacob, who was helping to guide his boot into a ski. It felt like his feet were molded into blocks of concrete.

“Yeah. Just try to snowplow all the way down. Do you know what that is?” Jacob asked.

“Not a clue.”

Ethan demonstrated. “Toes together, heels out. Like this. Keep your knees bent; it’s easier. Here, I’ll take your pack. You’ve got enough to worry about.” He lifted Dane’s backpack to his shoulder.

Dane tried the snowplow a few times in the white dusting at the edge of the closet. “Got it. I think.”

“You go first. I’ll follow behind in case you run into trouble.”

Dane nodded his head and looked over the edge. Icy wind stirred the powder at the top of the ridge. His cheeks stung from the bite of blowing snow while his hands began to sweat inside his gloves. He gripped the ski poles until his fingers hurt. Heart pounding in his ears, Dane searched his brain for options but came up short of producing any useful scenario other than plummeting down the hill. Mechanically, he bent his knees and leaned forward.

The tips of his skis lowered onto the slope, and the force of gravity tugged him forward. Gradually, he picked up speed. Not so bad. A rush of adrenaline had him crouching lower, driving faster and faster down the slope. But with the trees approaching, he had to gain control. He pressed his heels out into a snowplow like Ethan had shown him. That slowed him slightly, but at his current speed, he was still going to taste pine bark if he didn’t change direction. Shifting all his weight to his right edge, he steered around the first evergreen onto the narrower trail. Still too fast. At this rate, he’d cross the slope and collide with the opposite bank of trees in a matter of seconds. He shifted forward and cut on his left edge to correct, turning sideways so that his skis threw up a whopping plume of powdery snow. That slowed him down significantly. He tried it again, shifting his weight back and forth, to stay within the limits of the slope. His knees and hips absorbed the shock as he dashed down the winding terrain.

The trees opened up. A gigantic pile of snow blocked his path.
Holy hell!
Too late to go around it, he braced himself for impact.
Whoosh!
Up, up, and he was airborne. For two glorious seconds, he flew over the snow before gravity defeated exertion. He crashed into the hill, poles flying, and lost his skis as he curled into a ball to protect himself. Toppling down the steep incline head over ski boots, he somersaulted until he thought he might hurl. All he could see was bright white. Just when he couldn’t take it anymore, his momentum slowed. He flattened out and skid to a stop on his back in snow-angel position.

Ethan’s face appeared above him, lips twitching. “Anything broken?”

Dane tested his arms and legs. Stiff, but everything worked. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Good, because that was
epic
!” Ethan extended his hand and helped him to his feet.

To the sound of applause and appreciative howls, Dane limped the remaining distance to a ski lodge a few feet away. Shedding his equipment inside the wooden corridor, he emerged from the closet of a motel room where the rest of the Soulkeepers waited. Ethan was right behind him.

Grace pulled a cell phone from her pocket, tapped a button, and raised it to her ear. “They’re all through.”

A geode, identical to Jacob’s, rested on the floor. She slipped it inside a red velvet bag. In a swirl of purplish light that extinguished itself within the sack, the closet transformed from the bottom of a ski slope to a normal, everyday, motel closet.

“Welcome to Arizona,” Grace said. “Take a moment, if you need it. Then we have work to do.”

Chapter 13

The Wrong Direction

G
race unrolled a map across the bedspread, plucking the cap off a sharpie with her teeth. “The bar where the murders took place is next door to this motel.” She drew an X on the intersection of two road lines. “Stay within a five-mile radius.” With her thumb and forefinger, she measured out a crude circle representing the correct distance.

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