Splintered Energy (The Colors Book 1) (35 page)

Jade dipped one hand into Malcolm’s jeans and caressed over his groin with the other. “I’m an ugly monster? Say nice things, Mister Supreme Controller, or I’ll never let you up.”

“Up? That’s correct. Nothing will rise unless I will it. Shall I bite you?”

“No. Malcolm, why do I hate being alone, no one to hold me? What am I?”

“You’re the core for a band of psychotic brutes. The sweetest of would be rapists, and I grovel in my place beneath you.” Malcolm managed to tug his hand free. He drew a finger along Jade’s arm, causing her to giggle. “Unhand me. You can’t make me harden. I really am the supreme controller.”

Aaron grasped Jade’s shoulders and lifted her. Malcolm rolled. He leapt to his feet, yanked down his shirt and glowered as Aaron settled Jade on her feet.

Jade smiled up at Aaron, and his heart did flip-flops as he said, “We’ll talk later, okay?”

David charged through the doorway. “Dad, don’t you understand by now, that she’d crisp us if…um…Malcolm talked to me too, you know.”

Us?
Over Aaron’s dead body. He glared at blue sparkles, the aftermath of Malcolm bolting down the hall.

“In the shower, alone.” David slammed into Aaron. “Then come and eat.” Unsuccessful in moving Aaron, the kid gave up. David grasped Jade’s hand. “How come you aren’t helping? Wait till you see what they did to the other room.” David tugged Jade from the bedroom, not a backward glance from either.

Abandoned in the quiet bedroom, Aaron sighed as he removed his shirt. The beta dog had been put in his place. An empathic leader recognized a lonely man when he met one, and Malcolm understood that Aaron was too messed up to get involved with a human woman. Instead, he lusted for an angel that gave a whole new meaning to screw one’s brain out.

I miss you Sarah. 369 days now. And I’m still sorry
. Despite knowing she’d forgive him, he hadn’t alleviated his guilt and burdened her by confessing. Aaron didn’t remember the woman’s face, body, or even how many years had passed. At least ten. Out of town, alcohol, a few hours, and he’d never broken his vows again.

Aaron yanked off his boxers, tossed them on the counter, and hurried into the shower. No time to brood about his jaded past or erotic contact with Jade in the now. Red and Orange burned the miles toward Cleveland. How could he convince Malcolm to let him stay?

And, should he?

Malcolm feared these strongest beings in existence and the residual personalities they carried with them. Aaron could argue the dilemma of go or stay, depending on the chill factor. That left him another decision. Should he risk the wrath of the color determined to protect him and try for some answers before he did the right thing by David and abandoned color to their fate? Do the old, I’ll cooperate, but give me a bit in return?

Aaron didn’t dare confide his irrational doubts to anyone but the blue man who, if he agreed, didn’t exist. None of them did, except the one whose damaged mind they sprang from.

The full spectrum of light, or any part of it, can’t really be destroyed. It’s energy. Wasn’t there some silly rule in physics about that? And if a splintered arc had been created, how could they be reunited? Obviously, they had to be reinstated into their own reality. One, certainly more, was an increasing threat to Earth.

What if this broken light incident wasn’t isolated and could repeat? Did Malcolm have to figure this out and find a permanent solution? There must be an explanation at some point. Perhaps an anomaly, explained in low tech sci-fi double speak, since there’s no precedent for it anyway. A microscopic cloud of particle energy that never existed before appears for a fraction of a second in the Aurora Borealis, with the split beams reflecting through the lens effect of the ionosphere to points unknown until they make landfall. It’ll happen again if the rift isn’t sealed somehow.

Aaron shivered. He ran soapy fingers through his hair and cranked the heat up as he rinsed. Why even theorize? This couldn’t be reality. Complex energy shouldn’t zap to life in human form, killing the hosts, becoming super-beings.

Especially ones with similarities to humans that Aaron, grieving husband, and David, traumatized son, had dealt with. The efficient oncologist that spoke the terminal C-word without a trace of emotion had blonde hair. The night nurse, so sweet with green eyes, didn’t have a clue her flirting with a soon-to-be widower hadn’t been at all subtle. She’d annoyed David almost as much as she’d bothered Aaron. The brutally intelligent, blue-eyed shrink he’d made David talk to afterward—was this all a complex hallucination of David’s? A year after his mother’s death, he creates this world?

Oh yes, that made as much sense as the Aurora Borealis. Especially seeing as David somehow drew his father into this imaginary world. Aaron had carried Blue, Yellow, and Green in his arms. They had substance.

What defined reality? There wasn’t the slightest trace of a scar on his thigh. Thrusting a knife in his flesh had certainly felt like it happened. How could he have kissed, caressed, and almost committed a lewd act in an elevator with a figment of his son’s mind?

The conclusion: he projected, not David, leaving Aaron, the insane one and a bereaved man. Case proven by the fact he now washed soap and tears from his face.

Sarah was dead. Yet, the only way he could kiss another was if that other wasn’t real and electrocuted him for his infidelity?

In the real reality, if Aaron were a lonely nutjob, it’d mean that David was safe. If Aaron wasn’t delusional and powerful mutants had infiltrated Earth, he was a looney-tune for risking his son like this. Somehow, continuation of this journey would have to explain who was insane, what was real, and what would happen if complex living energy could be reunited without killing each other or any fool who allowed his child to share their path.

Aaron turned off the shower and hand-dried himself. He’d wait to pester Malcolm. Theories with little hope of becoming more than a conundrum could be postponed. He strode into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of black jeans. He’d wear the mark of a widower, government agent, Gothic nerd for as long as it took.

Two colors remained missing, two were assumed on the way, and one lay under ice, banned from this debatable reality until they could control her. That left two colors conscious in this house, solid, beautiful, and too god-like to be a figment of Aaron’s mind. Surely the understanding to the tragic demise of at least five people had to be around the corner.

The grey world of reality had been rendered obsolete.

Living light filled his heart, and he’d not walk but run to embrace the future.

* * *

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading the first section of a colorful saga. If you enjoyed the story, please consider leaving a review. The adventure continues in The R Word. Opening chapter follows.

Sincerely,

Arlene

http://arlenewebb.blogspot.com/

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Flagstaff, Arizona

3 PM Sunday, July 10th

Red

The redhead slammed her fist on the precinct’s front counter. “I know that woman had something to do with my brother’s disappearance.”

“We’ve no proof of that.” The desk sergeant swallowed hard. “Could be any moment, he’ll turn up with some wild story.” Odds were the man had died three days ago. “Er…sometimes a guy needs a break. Maybe Vegas. Or a hike into the hills. It’s not like Dan couldn’t take on a grizzly with one hand.”

She snorted. “My brother goes for a hike; he tells us. What stays in Vegas wouldn’t include him. Kills frickin’ bears—he’d drag the damn thing home.” A soft sob slipped free. “Find him. Today. Right now, or by God, I’ll find a way to choke the truth from Shana O’Leary.”

He had no doubt she would, and he ached to help her. Daniel Connor wouldn’t abandon a stray cat, let alone his family. Circles beneath her red-rimmed eyes, this firecracker had amused everyone last year with her futile attempt to press charges against her brother. Seems Connor not only carted his baby sister out of O’Malley’s bar, he’d punched her date in the nose.

As soon as the sergeant’s shift ended, he’d rejoin the crowd scouring the Arizona pines.

Tucson, Arizona

3 PM Sunday, July 10th

Orange

“
No, no es possible. La mujer—”

“Ingles, mi hermano
.” Carlos scowled at his brother. “We need the practice.
Idiota
. We ask at the medical center about an orange senorita on some weird drug, we can kiss our illegal butts out of here by sunrise.”

“News report said they found the woman out cold in a bar in South Tucson. That links her to Marisa, and she could be our only clue. Marisa couldn’t disappear into thin air.”

“How’d you hook up with this Marisa?”

Miguel sighed. “For the tenth time, I just met her. She crossed into the States last week. Parents dead, after she turned nineteen her aunt wanted her gone.”

“When’d you last see her?”

“Thursday night after the Turkey Tavern closed, a bunch of us hung out. Marisa refused to pee in the parking lot. Some
puta
dared her to climb the drainpipe and crawl into the bathroom window. She went around the building. Didn’t come back. I figured she’d hitched a ride to the motel I’d paid for. Her bag, picture of her parents, was still there.”

“You take her stuff?”

“Yes. I love her.”

“One week and you love her?
Pendejo
. No woman’s worth deportation.”

“
Bastardo
. This one is.”

Rochester, New York

6 PM Sunday, July 10th

Yellow

No woman was worth a prison sentence. Bumps of fear danced along his spine. He’d never come so close to strangling another human. Friday morning, he’d pretended the fight hadn’t happened. He’d dropped Lisa at the latest job—some greenhouse soon to regret the day she walked onto their lot—and bolted.

He emailed work that he quit, closed his bank account, sacrificed his security deposit, asked a buddy to haul his furniture to a charity, and told his friends to tell Lisa that he’d been hit by a Mack truck and had his body shipped to his parents in Alaska. Siberia. Transylvania. Wherever.

Thank God, the Mexican border loomed. After dealing with a blonde female version of Hannibal Lector, a dark-haired senorita could ease the pain of never returning home again.

San Diego, California

3 PM Sunday, July 10th

Green

The man ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Ninety pounds, unable to say boo to a mouse, and you’re saying my sister’s not only been missing for three days, no one’s even seen her wandering the beach? Anyone alert authorities in Mexico?”

Despite working at this mental facility for years, it never got any easier dealing with family. “Of course we informed the police here and across the border. But Susan got past security with a purpose in mind. I’m afraid Dr. Radly suspects she crossed that line. He fears the Coast Guard will find her soon.”

“Suicide? She killed herself?”

“I’m really sorry. She’d made some progress dealing with the loss of her husband, but her daughter—well, there’s only so much counseling and antidepressants can do.”

The man slumped into the chair, his face ashen.

Cleveland, Ohio

6 PM Sunday, July 10th

Blue

The blood rushed from her cheeks as Lana collapsed into the chair outside Starbucks. “Oh, I’m such a fool. Why’d I text him? He’ll never ask for me again. I won’t get a chance—”

“To what?” Chloe snapped. “Make him fall in love like you’re in a goddamn movie? Honey, you blew it, and I don’t mean him. I told you he’s a sweetie, but you had to follow the rules. Remember that new girl five-six months ago? He took one look at whatever her name was, opened his wallet, and then left. She wouldn’t say what he’d said, but she was crying when she packed her bag and headed back to Idaho or whatever cornfield she crawled out of.”

“But I’m twenty-six, not seventeen. I didn’t kiss him on the mouth. I made sure I didn’t touch him afterward. Three times. He only did it twice with Bella. You don’t think something happened to him, do you?”

“Yes, Lana, I think that you happened to him. I bet he had his mobile number changed.”