Whisper of Memory (Whispering Woods Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Whisper of Memory (Whispering Woods Book 2)
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“Similarities. Differences. Things that don’t belong.” She blew a wisp of perfect, blonde bangs from her eyes. Her hair was done in a style framing her pretty face but nearly hiding it. I always brushed my hair back in a ponytail so it wouldn't obstruct my view. Practicality always won out over fashion.

“I don’t see anything.” I leaned in as if a closer view would help.

Em clicked to freeze the video frame. She then magnified on a group of people and I saw my face and hers come into view. “Take these two, for instance. The taller girl is looking around for something while her friend is talking to her. Obviously not paying attention to an important conversation.”

I sighed and looked at the two people on the screen, me and Em. Austin stood slightly over to the side. I was a lot taller than Em and dressed my usual T-shirt with jeans. Em wore a short skirt and long matching top that screamed “mall purchase.” Standing side-by-side we illustrated contrast.

“We don’t even look like we came from the same planet. That’s what I see. Two girls who don’t match.” I smiled to take the edge off the words. “You look ready to hit the runway, and I look like I’m on the run.”

“Not hardly.” Em twisted her thumb ring and tilted her head before shaking her head in denial. She turned back to the screen. “Same blonde hair, same age, standing close together. I’m leaning in talking to you, so a person could guess we know each other. Lots of similarities. Differences? I look like I’m having fun and you look unhappy. Maybe not that. You look distracted like you are looking for someone or something. “

“See that guy? He’s the one who was obnoxious in that session on setting up a tournament. I hate gum smackers.” I bobbed my head.

“This guy here is the one you thought was following you.” She touched the computer monitor, resting her finger on his head.

“He
was
following me, Em.”

“That’s what I meant. Anyway, here’s the one I noticed.” She pointed at a person holding a camera. The man looked through what appeared to be something more than a regular digital camera. The lens was extended for magnification at a distance.

“The camera lens is pointed at Pete over here. See?” Em stared at me to see my reaction.

“Oh.” The implications of this new discovery raced through my mind. “He was looking for Pete.” I sat on the bed and watched Em use a software drawing tool to circle the screen around the man in question.

“Were they looking at Pete because they knew you would be there, or was it the other way around? There are some more people in this video to study. Here’s someone who’s obviously people watching and that would be normal with the flash mob.” Em stopped the video again before continuing. She clicked a still frame of the image and drew another circle.

“How do you know he isn’t someone who was there for the conference?”

“No conference bag. It had lots of goodies from the vendor. We paid enough for it. Can you believe that we got a promo game from Celeron Dreams? I played it last night.”

“The guy, Em? What about the guy?”

She smiled. “Sorry. He isn’t carrying a bag, and while it’s possible that he decided he didn’t want to hang onto it, it’s unlikely. Deduction? He’s a bad guy out scanning the crowd for you. Or Pete.”

“I can buy that.”

“The question is why Pete if not you?” Em tilted her head to look over her shoulder.

“He’s on the run from someone. It has to be these people. My instincts tell me that this is still tied to Dr. Bleeker.”

“You can assume that, but we don’t know for sure. Please don’t get mad at me for what I’m about to say.” Em stopped talking and waited for my response.

“Go on.”

“No, promise me that you will consider this without getting all excited.”

“OK. You have my word.” I had no idea what would bring on this degree of concern.

“What if it is someone looking for Pete, someone besides Bleeker…since we thought he would only be looking for you. We know the IIA wanted Pete for their own purposes. What if he is running from them?”

“Regulus and Arizona have nothing to do with the thugs who followed us around at GameCon.” My hackles were up before I could stop my reaction. I saw from Em’s face that she expected as much. “Em, Regulus almost died from the trap that somebody set at my house while I was gone to GameCon. You know that.”

“Right. But could it be possible that Dr. Bleeker set the trap? And the IIA didn’t send Regulus and Arizona, but other agents, to Dallas?” Em waited for me to soak in the possibility before speaking again. “I’m not saying that this is what I think. I think it is a possibility.”

My breath stuck in my throat as I thought about Regulus and his trust for the IIA. I believed with every cell in my body that Regulus was sure he worked for the good guys. “I’m trying to stay open-minded. If Pete is running from the IIA, I’m sure that Regulus doesn’t know.”

Em started the video again and located two other men she circled on-screen with the drawing tool. She clicked on the Stop button and glanced sideways at me. “I’m not saying that I think Regulus knew anything about it. I know you’re in deep.” She leaned back in the chair as far as she could go without falling over.

I flopped belly first on top of my bed and rested my chin on my folded hands. “I’ve never really cared about boyfriends…or lack of.”

“Um-hum.” Em withdrew a bottle of nail polish from her bag and waved it. “You mind?”

“Go ahead.”

“And now you’re worried about boyfriends, now that you have one? Where is this going?”

“I’m torn between wanting to know Regulus better and being scared of knowing him better. He drives me crazy. I think about him all the time. But when we’re together, it gets complicated. Most of the time, he only talks about the IIA and training me.”

“That’s all you do together?” Em grinned because she knew the answer.

“No. We do other things,” I answered hesitantly.

“Your relationship sounds normal to me.”

“If we aren’t talking about the IIA and finding Dr. Bleeker, we’re…you know…kissing.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“There’s so much that I don’t know about him. And he knows everything about me. Too much. They have a file on my entire family.”

“You ever read the file?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know that it’s everything?”

“I don’t. But he knows stuff about my mother.” Silence. The topic was always uncomfortable. Em’s mother was the type who overpowered her life. Mine had conveniently disappeared when I was a toddler. They were both unspoken burdens in our psyches.

“What did he tell you?” Emily asked in a near whisper, her hand poised above the last toenail she was painting. She was holding her breath.

I focused on the brush in her hand. The polish was pink and glittery. “I guess she was a synesthete like me.”

“Is that all he said?”

“No, he knows what she looks like.” I met her eyes. “He said she has a scar on her right cheek. My mother has eyes of two colors—one green and one blue.”

“You didn’t know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” I sounded angry and exasperated. “Sorry. I don’t remember much about her. I’ve seen a few pictures. But when I look at them, I see her face and I think about what she did to us… Leaving her husband and two kids… I never look at her eyes.”

“Why did she leave…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I really don’t know. I’m sure that dad is better off without her. She put a gun to my head the last time I saw her.”

Em didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. “Did she recognize you? You’ve grown up since then.” She leaned forward and put her hand on my shoulder. “She would have to be a monster if she remembers you and still did what she did.”

“Like I said. Better off.” I shrugged. I picked up a gaming magazine on my nightstand, flipping through the pages.

“What else does Regulus know?”

“That’s the part that scares me. What’s worse…not knowing or knowing what you wish you didn’t?”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4
Austin

A
ustin leaned back
in the chair as much as possible while examining his new ink. His shirt usually covered the tat so his mother hadn’t noticed yet. The three-inch, intricate design began on his top right pec. Only someone looking for it could see the letter
M
on the tail of the dragon. The slight difference from the other scales on the dragon’s tail was his tribute to her. Not that she would ever know about it. Grabbing the orange soda to take another swig, he shook his head in disgust.

He shoved a headset and some PlayStation game cases to the side of his desk to make room for the soda can. He glanced at the clock widget on his desktop monitor. After midnight. Closing the program on his midterm paper titled, “The Woman Question of the Victorian Age” he grimaced. It would be nice to understand the women of this decade.

He clicked on the
Quest of Zion
icon, logged in, and waited. The startup screen tended to annoy him. He wished the programmers would add the skip link he’d requested. He opened a cellophane package of chocolate-covered espresso beans and popped a couple into his mouth.

Online users filled the right frame of his screen, and he closed the extra frame. Most of his friends played during this time, but he didn’t feel like chatting. He clicked on the link to his private game area that he and some of his hardcore gaming friends used. Tiny was already playing, and Austin moved his character on the screen at a brisk pace through the virtual landscape, joining Tiny on-screen to walk beside him.

Austin reached to grab the headset he’d moved earlier and cursed as the chocolate espresso beans began rolling out of the package and along his desk. He caught and ate them. Nothing better than a good old caffeine rush to get an edge in the game. He put the headset on and positioned the mic closer to his lips. Opening the communications window, he clicked to open private talk with Tiny.

“Hey,” Austin said while his on-screen stride never slowed. The character sported long blond dreadlocks that swung from side to side. Bare-chested, it looked nothing like Austin except for matching his tattoos, including the newest one on the right pec.

The second character did look exactly like his owner. The tousled red mop of curls topped the giant who towered over his companion. At six foot seven offscreen, Tiny looked down at everyone in both worlds. “What’s up, man?” Tiny’s voice came over the headset.

“The usual load of bull.”

“Oh yeah? This have anything to do with Mia?”

“When doesn’t it?” Austin’s character drew an arrow from the quiver across his back. He turned forty-five degrees and shot a zombielike creature that had been following them. It fell limply to the ground with the arrow’s shaft protruding from its chest. Austin’s character pivoted and continued on the previous path.

Confronted by an unfriendly group and forced into battle, the two warriors retaliated. With Tiny swinging a mace and Austin a katana, they quickly defeated the motley crew while increasing the life force they collected during game play.

Spattered in blood and ready to continue on to the next checkpoint in the game, Austin was surprised by a hand on his shoulder on the opposite side from Tiny. He twisted, swinging his sword in an arc. The new character sprang nimbly to the side.

Tiny lurched forward and grabbed the character by the collar, lifting him high enough that his feet were off the ground. The stranger didn’t struggle but held up both hands in surrender.

“I come in peace.” The voice came over Austin’s headset loud and clear.

I know that voice
. Austin narrowed his eyes and leaned toward the screen. Playing in this private game required being invited by Tiny.

With his feet still six inches above ground, the stranger said calmly, “Let me down, Tiny.”

Tiny dropped him.

“Is that really you, man?” Austin couldn’t stop an almost imperceptible tremor as he spoke. His character pulsed, awaiting direction.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Pete said.

“Dude! I didn’t recognize this character. Where have you been? Everybody’s been looking for you. Your dad acts like he’s waiting for the police to show up with a death—”

“Austin, man, hold up.” Pete chuckled before his seriousness returned. “I only have a few minutes.”

“Where
have
you been?” Tiny also wanted to know.

“Doesn’t matter. What does is that Bleeker isn’t far from you, and he’s at it again.”

“Who’s Bleeker?” Tiny asked.

“Austin will have to fill you in. Hey, and Austin?” Pete said.

“Yeah.” Austin turned up the volume on his audio.

“He’s now taking local test subjects. Check the missing persons reports from the surrounding states. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” Austin said. “Whatever you need.”

“I’m trying to protect Mia, but I’ve got a lot going on.”

“Protect her from whom? Bleeker?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“Her new boyfriend Regulus.”

“Regulus?”

“IIA dude. He and Arizona hang around your house all the time now. She’s actually joined up with them.”

There was a lengthy silence.

“You still there?” Austin asked.

“Processing that.” Pete hesitated before continuing. “Had no idea. It’s worse than I thought.”

“Tell me about it.” Austin grimaced.

“I’ll be contacting you again. I don’t want to draw attention to her from the people I work for. Can I trust you to watch out for her? You and Tiny?”

“No need to ask,” Austin said.

The third character disappeared, and a message appeared in its place.
Protector has logged out.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5
Intruder

T
he glow
of the night-light comforted me while I stared up at the popcorn finish on my bedroom ceiling. When I was younger, I would call Pete’s name and he’d answer through the thin wall that separated our rooms. When I was older, I was calmed by the music that Pete played at night, a playlist of punk rock music that thrashed and wailed. It easily put me to sleep.

These days, the house was always quiet as a coffin. Sometimes, I could hear the television on in the den downstairs and, although I knew I should go down and turn it off, it helped me to sleep. Dad always fell asleep with the television blaring while he was at home on the weekends since he had started taking more government contracts. I liked it better when he’d worked freelance from our house.

Tonight, with Dad gone, the house creaked and talked to me in the way houses do in the woods. Wind circled the trees, and branches pecked against the tin roof. I closed my eyes and saw a rainbow of bright, beautiful colors dancing across the room in time with nature’s beat. I loved that roof. When it rained, the musical cacophony relaxed my racing mind.

A scraping sound like a metal bar skidding across my eardrum drew my attention to the dark window. The blinds were drawn, so I couldn’t see if a nearby tree branch caused the noise. I sat up in bed and bent my knees to my chin. Biscuit stirred at the foot of my bed, then lunged at the window while barking ferociously.

Shards of glass fell onto my desk, and I screamed.

The miniblinds thrust forward in a warped “V” when something—someone—tried to break into my fragile security. I jumped out of bed, haphazardly grabbing for Biscuit. Although only a twelve-pound cairn terrier, my dog had Rottweiler attitude. He snarled and squirmed in my arms, trying to escape.

I stopped screaming and ran, still clinging to Biscuit. Swinging wide around the doorframe, I half tumbled down the wooden stairs. I would have traveled faster if not for the bundle of dog to balance. I could hear noise behind me and shrieked involuntarily at the thought of the intruder chasing me. The pounding of my heart matched the pounding of feet upstairs.

The thumps weren’t coming any closer. I stood poised with my hand on the doorknob. My knees wobbled. Biscuit wiggled, desperate for release. Holding my breath in dread—would I see someone at the top of the stairs?—I listened to a ruckus coming from my room. Something made a shattering sound as it crashed to the floor.

I looked around for a weapon.

Running to the car would be useless since my keys sat on the dresser in my bedroom in my heart-shaped candy dish. I edged to the kitchen in the dark while still grappling with Biscuit. I knew that canisters lined the tiled length of the countertop along with a few appliances. Where were the knives? I ran one hand along the slick surface and attempted to control my breathing. Footsteps sounded from the staircase, and I frantically grabbed the first thing I could.

“It’s me.” The familiar voice came from the edge of the kitchen doorway seconds before I tried to smash his head in. I let my arm fall to my side and bent to release Biscuit. The dog skidded around the corner and greeted the voice’s owner.

“What do you plan to do with that?” Regulus eyed the toaster in my hand. My fingers were inserted in the two slots in the top.

I hugged it to my waist. “Umm…knock you out?”

“You were going to assault the Slip with a kitchen appliance?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“You are resourceful.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But you should have grabbed the knife that I gave you.”

“I don’t think I’m good enough with it.” I frowned and stilled my shaky hands. “How did you know that someone was breaking in?”

“I constantly monitor your house. I set up a camera exactly like you did a few months ago for your science project. Someone disabled it a few minutes ago. I knew you had to be in trouble.”

“You’re watching me?” My voice rose at the end involuntarily. “Exactly what part of my house are you watching?”

“The outside only, and you should be glad for it. It’s the only reason I can sleep at night knowing you are out here by yourself. I thought you would be happy to see me.”

“Of course I am.” I set the toaster on the cabinet. The guilt of being rescued washed over me. I didn’t like to feel helpless or rescued. My favorite T-shirt claimed I was a “Self-rescuing Princess,” and I intended to live up to the name.

“Arizona is coming. He didn’t hurry like I did.”

“Thanks,” I said. “For coming quickly.”

“It is my job. And you had plans to incapacitate him with the kitchen appliance, right?” He shrugged his shoulders and finally smiled.

I shook my head. “I’ll be ready to use a real weapon next time. I never thought anybody would break into my house.”

“It is odd. Perhaps he is looking for something.” Regulus said the words more to himself than to me. He began walking toward the stairs, and I followed.

The man lay face down on my bedroom floor with his outstretched hand inches away from my bed. He looked to be of average height and weight, but I still wondered how we would get him downstairs. The stunner had obviously knocked him out, and I really had no clue about how long he’d be unconscious. Regulus shared no details unless I asked him.

We rolled him over in the narrow space between the end of my bed and the wall. The intruder looked to be peacefully asleep.

“How do you know how long he’s out?” I backed up slightly. A feeling of claustrophobia tightened my throat.

“I administer the hit on his nervous system according to need.”

“If I had used a knife on him, there would be blood as evidence. I might have even killed him by accident. This seems much better. Why can’t I have a stunner?”

“Because you can explain to the authorities that an intruder came in, and you defended yourself. You cannot explain a weapon that doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.” It sounded logical, and I was disappointed. “Then I’ll become an expert with the knife.” I remembered how sore my arms had been after the practice session earlier. Grimacing, I grabbed my tennis shoes and stuck my foot into the first one. “Are we going to move this dude, or what?”

“Yes. Let us move the…dude.” He smiled, and dimples appeared out of nowhere in his face. “You can hold his feet.”

I nodded in agreement and watched Regulus lift the man from underneath the shoulders, slipping his hands under the armpits. Regulus linked his hands together over the guy’s chest and nodded that he was ready. I lifted his feet. The guy felt like a lead weight.

The guy wore Nike tennis shoes.

“I don’t think this guy is a Slip.” I didn’t think. I knew.

“What is making you so certain?”

“He’s wearing a shoe I recognize.” I struggled to keep my grip on the bottoms of the shoes as we hauled our burden. “I’d guess that people from different dimensions don’t wear our shoe brands.”

“That is observant of you. Anything else you see on him?” Regulus sounded slightly amused.

“He appears to have poor taste in clothes, and his cologne is overwhelming. I should have smelled him lurking outside my window.” We stood at the top of the stairs with Regulus going backward down them. He waited while I adjusted my hold.

“Why do you think he’s a Slip? Are the people from other dimensions like us?”

“Do I appear that different to you?” His eyebrows rose at the question.

I breathed a little harder in trying to carry the body downstairs while staying upright. “No.” I had never even thought about it before. Except for his stilted speech, he seemed like an ordinary college guy to me. He was ordinary in the perfect sort of way, but not perfectly ordinary.

“My world is not far from yours. That is why we are human like you. If you have a Slip who is very different, he has come far.” Regulus shifted the man’s weight. “We can set him down. I hear Arizona outside.”

Now at the bottom of the stairs, I gladly put the man’s feet down.

“Travel is safest between the dimensions that are very close together. The physics of how atoms are held together would dictate that any farther dimensional travel would cause them to dissolve. If the dimension is not carbon based, it is not possible to exist.”

“Hmmm.” I didn’t want to know that the world was different from what we were taught in science class. Ignorance is bliss. “What about religion? Do you believe in a creator?”

“The IIA Vault Keepers are my creator.”

A shiver ran up my spine and danced around my neck. These statements from Regulus reminded me of the different worlds we knew and loved. I shook off the feeling.

I jumped at the knock on the door even though I knew Arizona was outside. But when the door opened, Austin stood with his hand on the knob. Arizona stood to his right.

“You OK, Mia?” Austin swept his dark bangs out of his eyes, worry written all over his face. “Aliens attacking your house now?” He wasn’t joking like he usually did.

“I’m fine, Austin.” I gave him a little smile to reassure him. “I don’t think this one is alien. His clothes seem to be from around these parts.” I pointed at the shoes.

“Unless he stole those,” Austin said.

“Possible,” I answered. “It doesn’t matter really. It’s still someone breaking and entering.”

“But why?” Arizona asked. “Is there a reason for someone to enter your home? He doesn’t appear homeless or desperate.”

“There is something here he wants. We must determine what the commodity is,” Regulus said.

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Whisper of Memory (Whispering Woods Book 2)
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