Authors: Sandy Goldsworthy
Emma's Story
“Emma, you’re starting center-stopper today.”
Coach Vieth’s voice startled me during warm-ups. He turned away before I could respond. Being new to the team, I was still trying to fit in and was thrilled with the opportunity to play the position I did back in Highland Park.
“Brinn, you’re on the bench,” the coach told a brunette on my team. His words were loud and caught the attention of a few girls stretching nearby. Brinn rolled her eyes as soon as he looked away.
“Prove yourself. It’ll shut ’em up,” Claire said after a few glares and hushed whispers. She was right. Besides, this was just rec ball. Our high school girls’ soccer season wasn’t until spring. Fall was simply a chance for Coach to monitor skills and for us to get touches on the ball. Our win-loss record meant nothing. At least, on paper, and since soccer was one thing I really excelled at, skinny, little Brinn and her posse of friends weren’t going to deflate my confidence.
Nine minutes into the game, I had my chance to shut them up. Our opponent got a breakaway thanks to a turnover by Brinn’s best buddy. I didn’t think about it, I just reacted. I blocked the girl’s pass and regained control for our team. It wasn’t the only time I saved her mishap. By halftime, she actually complimented my skills and thanked me for being there.
Claire started the game off strong, but after a few minutes of sluggish runs and missed shots, Coach pulled her and sat her on the bench. In the huddle at halftime, Claire looked pale, and while I wondered if she was sick, there was no time to ask her.
When I jogged back to my place on the field, I noticed Lucas leaning on the chain-link fence near the parents’ section of the bleachers. The stands were bare, except for a few people scattered about. Lucas smiled and waved when I looked at him, and I found myself grinning as the ref blew the whistle to start the second half.
Ben's Story
Local agents had already assembled in the conference room by the time I arrived.
Concerns flooded the group. I couldn’t blame them. They were trained for surveillance, to revive a human not scheduled for transition, to redirect someone temporarily lost or off their life path. They were not trained for physical combat, especially against one of our history’s most notorious criminals.
Unfortunately, we all knew combat was inevitable.
Claire was at the high school soccer field when my announcement went viral. She returned response in thought and reluctantly stayed undercover at the game.
It’s better for you to maintain cover right now,
I told her.
Besides, I need you to keep an eye on Emma since I can’t.
She agreed and decided to link in via thought for our meeting. I knew it would be unsettling to hear alone, but I hoped she didn’t let it show.
Bianca interrupted me before I could reach out to Molly, who hadn’t arrived yet. “She’s having a late breakfast with that strapping boyfriend of hers.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” I corrected.
“Not after last night.” She smirked. “Molly had quite the night, I must say. Of course, I enjoyed myself as well.”
I sighed. I really didn’t care to know about Bianca’s personal life. Before I knew it, however, she displayed a video of herself partially unclothed. I severed the transmission before seeing who she was with.
“I didn’t need to see that,” I said.
She shrugged as more agents arrived and took seats at the conference table.
“You shouldn’t have left so early, Benjamin,” she said. “It could have been you instead of that boy.” She batted her eyes and placed her palm on my chest.
I removed her hand.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” I said under my breath, and then called the meeting to order.
***
“Charlene Tillman appears to have been in contact with Victor Nicklas.” I blinked, releasing a hologram image of her current appearance. I displayed the most flattering photo first. It was the only one in which she wasn’t intoxicated or under the influence of narcotics. She combed her hair, wore a touch of makeup, and had a bright smile. It was the day she returned to Wisconsin and knocked on Neal’s door. She was gone for a decade and happy to be home, though Neal and Lucas didn’t reciprocate the emotion.
“Char’s memories were disjointed. Audio and visual files of the same moments were kept in different files, as were locations and scents,” I explained. “Despite that, I was able to put together a few pieces of this puzzle.” The hologram image changed to Char as a baby, then progressed to different ages, from childhood to high school.
“For all practical purposes, her life was normal—on track—during these years,” I said, scanning the eyes of the agents present. Most of the group registered a moderate to high level of fear, while only two of us had none. Bianca and me.
“Gaps in sequential memories prevented an accurate recap of her life from age nineteen to present,” I stated. “However, what we extracted gave us proof she encountered Victor at least once during her lifetime, specifically while living in rural Nevada.”
An agent raised his hand and then asked, “How could Char have camouflaged her memories in this manner? It doesn’t seem common amongst humans. Have you ever experienced this before?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve not seen a human do this. It’s one of the reasons I believe she has had—or possibly still has—connection to Victor.”
“What other reasons do you have?”
“We retrieved the following footage, which takes place a few miles south of Tonopah, Nevada.” I blinked, and the hologram of Char hovering above the table switched to the image of a rundown tavern. The exterior doors opened, and we were led inside as if we were actually present at the time the event occurred.
Char was scantily dressed and sitting at the bar beside a black-haired man in a suit. There was no audio sound with the video, but having seen it before, no sound was necessary to understand the danger.
The bartender we identified as Ralph, poured bourbon for the man, then a second for Char after a few words and a flip of her hair. She raised her glass and tipped it against his. The stranger never moved. He didn’t return her toast, or turn to face her.
Words were exchanged, but without sound, I could only guess what was said by reading Char’s lips. I rotated the hologram, spinning it on its invisible axis like a person turning in their seat to see around the room.
The bar was empty except for the three of them. A clock on the walk read seven minutes past four o’clock. An old-fashioned desk phone in a deep red color sat on the counter with its receiver off the hook. Beside it were dusty bottles of whiskey, gin, and vodka. The stranger stared at the heavyset tavern keeper, but neither moved. Char did her best to flirt with the overdressed man, but her attempts went unnoticed.
When Char turned her attention back to Ralph, he didn’t move. The coloring in his face disappeared, and his cheeks sagged and thinned. Ralph’s skin drooped and hung low to his neck until it simply slid off his face entirely.
The stranger’s eyes bore into the keeper while Char watched.
Silence filled our conference room as the tavern owner’s shoulders dropped in the hologram. Movement under his brown plaid shirt startled Char, as she visibly jumped. It was clear she didn’t speak. The bartender held onto the rim of the counter separating him from the evil before him. His hands turned to bone, as the skin and fat that once surrounded his pudgy digits were now bare.
Within seconds, his body melted away to a standing skeleton frame that buckled under its own weight without the support of muscles and joints. A pile of clothing rested on the floor where the man once stood.
Char turned toward the stranger, as the video ended and the hologram disappeared.
Agents in the conference room gasped. Claire was mentally shaken, as she watched in thought from the huddle during halftime of her soccer game. After several minutes of uncomfortable stillness, questions arose from every corner of the room. Most I had no answer for.
“The man in the video is assumed to be Victor. Without sound, without the ability to smell his essence, it is only speculation. However, there is no other rogue immortal with his powers roaming the earth at this time,” I said. Chatter amongst the crew began. “Ironically, his disguise with dark, wavy hair is similar to his most recent appearance.”
“Do you know if this was a single encounter with Char?”
“We do not. What you see is all we know at this time,” I said.
After assigning tasks to agents to monitor Char, I ended the meeting and dismissed the team.
“We need to shield these details from Molly,” I said to Bianca. “No sense in alarming her more than she already is. Push comes to shove, she’s our bait.”
***
Attending Claire’s soccer game was expected of me and I needed to keep up appearances, despite what was really going on. I saw Lucas at the fence when I reached the bleachers.
“Hey,” I said, though our eyes never met.
He grunted a response.
“Man, I’m sorry about last night,” I said. “I had too much to drink.” I placed my forearms on the top of the fence and leaned onto them for support. Faking a hangover was unnecessary. My human body gave me the real thing.
I almost didn’t hear Lucas’ response as the thought of tequila rushed in and out of my mind with a sense of urgency.
“You were totally fucked up, man.” Lucas laughed. “It’s alright. Everyone needs to let loose once and a while.”
“Yeah,” I said and nodded. If only he knew. “I just wish I would’ve stopped after Drew’s.” I shook my head slowly.
“No shit?” He turned to look at me. “Whad-ya do last night? You look like hell.”
“I feel like it too. Tequila’s not my friend.”
Lucas chuckled under his breath and watched the game. Emma passed the ball to a forward, who ended up turning it over further down the field. She was focused on the game. I shouldn’t have expected any different. Three minutes left.
When the ball was passed near our side of the field, Emma noticed me. For a split second, her thoughts reflected the night before with anger and confusion over the scene I made.
“Well, hey, I gotta go,” I said and turned to Lucas, extending my hand. “Friends?”
He shook my hand and nodded.
The downloaded files from Lucas were lengthy and disorganized but not as informative as his mother’s. I scanned them again and found no concrete evidence to explain the peculiar feeling I got around him.
Emma's Story
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
Neal and Aunt Barb waited for me at the sidelines. They greeted me with compliments and made small talk with my teammates’ parents as people passed by.
Lucas lingered near the fence.
“I’ll meet you at home, honey. Neal and Lucas are setting up that shelf.” Aunt Barb beamed with excitement. I guessed it was a combination of the new house and spending time with Neal. After a quick hug, they left.
“So you’re an athlete, too,” Lucas said once we were alone.
“Huh?”
“You’re not just a pretty face.”
My cheeks burned. Fortunately, I was probably already red from running in the game and didn’t need to worry about looking as embarrassed as I felt.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“My dad said he was coming. So I thought, why not?” His smile softened the rough edge of his look, not to mention personality. “Do you need a ride home?”
“No. I’ve got my car. But thanks.” I gestured toward the parking lot and instinctively, we both began walking.
“My dad thinks he needs some help with your aunt’s shelf.”
I nodded. “Are you coming over?”
“Yeah. If that’s alright with you.”
I held back a grin.
“Um, yeah. That’s fine.”
Better you than me
, I thought.
***
By the time I was showered and dressed, the shelf was installed.
“I’m making lunch,” Aunt Barb called to me when I reached the kitchen.
Neal was nose deep into the refrigerator while Lucas sat at the island, looking uncomfortable.
“Why don’t you run to your mom’s after lunch and get your things?” Neal said to Lucas as he handed him a can of Coke.
“Yeah, sure,” Lucas answered, popping open the can of soda.
Aunt Barb placed a platter of sub sandwiches on the counter, and Neal took a seat.
“Lucas is moving back to Neal’s house.” Aunt Barb restated what she told me earlier and everyone filled their plates. Then looking at Lucas, she added, “If you need any help, I’m sure Emma won’t mind giving you a hand.”
I shot her a look, but she wasn’t facing me to notice.
“Actually, you need to give Ray his truck back,” Neal said. “Maybe Emma can follow you to Riverside, so I don’t have to see your mom.” The latter part he mumbled under his breath, and I wasn’t sure if anyone else heard him, but me. “You don’t mind. Do you, Emma?”
I shook my head and took a bite of my sandwich. How could I say no?
“Don’t forget dinner tonight,” my aunt added. Neal eagerly agreed.
Great.
Another joint meal
, I thought, and finished my lunch. After helping my aunt clear the table, Lucas said he was ready to go.
“I’ll follow you,” I said, standing in the driveway, keys in hand.
“Have you been to Riverside before?” Lucas asked.
“No. And I have no idea how to get here. So don’t lose me.”
“Then you better keep up.” His firm look turned to a smirk.
***
I remembered Aunt Barb vaguely pointing to a road near Lake Bell that led to Riverside. Except Lucas went a completely different route, and I found myself running yellow lights in downtown Westport just to keep up with him.
Outside the city, the road was narrow and hilly with large trees and leaves in shades of fall colors. The picturesque pathway followed the southern edge of Lake Bell with glimpses of the water far below. The flowing, scenic route gave way to city streets and small houses when we reached Riverside. Sidewalks and shops lined the curb with large flowerpots on the corners and flags that hung from lampposts.
The only stoplight in town changed from yellow to red after Lucas went through it. He turned left and pulled over next to a brownstone building with a sign that read, “Carmichael Corporation.” I made a mental note to ask Aunt Barb about it when I got home.
Hmm. I glanced behind me and expected to see a grocery store, but only noticed a diner named Priscilla, a hair salon, and the post office.
My mind must be playing tricks on me
, I thought. The light changed, and I turned to follow Lucas.
The back bumper of Ray’s truck read, “Black smoke don’t mean it’s broke.” I didn’t understand what it meant, but as Lucas pulled out in front of me and the vertical pipes in the truck’s bed puffed out exhaust, I figured it out.
Lucas turned left and then right, before pulling over to park alongside a fence behind the Carmichael plant.
The brown brick houses looked the same on this block and matched those on the blocks around it. All the buildings were made of the same colored bricks, and I wondered if it was on sale the year these homes were built.
I parked behind Lucas and turned off the engine. Suddenly, I felt uneasy. I didn’t know much about Lucas’ mom, but what I heard didn’t sound good.
There was no reason for me to worry because the upstairs apartment was empty when we arrived. McDonald’s bags and wrappers were scattered on the table along with papers and beer cans. Lucas tried to clean up the garbage, though it didn’t matter.
“Sorry about this,” Lucas said when he caught my glance.
“It’s fine.” Plain white walls surrounded me. A brown suede couch was across from a large TV. Lucas filed a duffel bag with a couple shirts that were lying on the arm of the sofa.
“You can sit if you want. Watch TV.” He looked away, as I turned to face him. He reached for the remote, clicked a button, and the television buzzed to life. “I’ll be a few minutes.”
When Lucas pulled out a plastic tub from behind the chair, a cat meowed and rushed past me, startling me.
“She scared you, didn’t she?” he asked.
I laughed. “Yeah.”
“Sorry. She’s uncomfortable around strangers.”
I nodded and looked around. I could relate. “Um… did you want some help?” I asked. “I mean, I don’t mind.”
“No, I got it. I don’t have a lot, but I really don’t want to come back for it.”
“That’s fine.” I followed him to the hallway and stood in the doorway of the bathroom as he grabbed his toiletries. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing and turned into him. “Oh. Sorry.”
He smiled as my hand rested momentarily on his chest. “Not the kind of lifestyle you grew up with, I’m guessing.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.
“Don’t worry. I’m not like this. My mom’s a mess. My dad was pretty strict.”
When he leaned closer, I knew he was going to kiss me. Even though I was sure I only wanted to be friends, I didn’t pull away. Voices on the stairs interrupted our kiss before it even began. He turned away quickly, as if not wanting to get caught in the act.
“Hey, I’ve got a friend over,” Lucas said as a thin woman put a plastic grocery bag on the already-messy table. “This is Emma.”
“Emma, this is Char, ah… I mean, my mom,” Lucas said and then pointed to an overweight man. “This is Ray.”
Char gave me a hug, like we were long-lost pals. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“She’s prettier than you told us,” Ray said and shook my hand. He held it longer than I expected, cupped in both of his hands. When he finally let go, he said, “Did we interrupt something? You two need some privacy?” His voice was gruff.
“Ah, no,” I answered quickly.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Lucas whispered in my ear, and then headed to the bedroom.
“So Emma, tell me… You a senior, too?” Ray asked as he took a seat at the table.
“Yes.”
Char unpacked the bag she brought in, placing two bakery boxes in front of Ray. “Emma, honey, would you like a brownie?” I started to say no, but she continued before I could object. “My friend has a bakery in town. Makes the best brownies for me. Here. Try one.” She held open a white box under my nose. The aroma of chocolaty richness floated toward my nostrils, and I couldn’t resist.
“Okay,” I said and helped myself. A sheet of waxed paper separated what looked like multiple layers of square brownies as thick as they were tall.
“I’ll get you some milk.” She put the box down and left.
“Lucas said you just moved here,” Ray continued, ignoring Char. His thin, black hair was slicked straight back, defining a receding hairline.
“Yes. From Illinois.” I took a bite of the brownie. It was chewy and moist, just like my mom used to make, with mini chocolate chips, less the walnut chunks. Mom never put nuts in her recipe. She said Dad didn’t like them. I didn’t mind, I realized as I finished the small square.
I took a drink of milk from the glass Char handed me.
“You need ice-cold milk to wash it down, I always say,” Char added. She helped herself to a brownie, pushing the box toward Ray, who waved his hand at her.
“What part?” Ray asked. “Chicago?”
“Highland Park.”
“Here, Emma, have another,” Char said in between chews, holding the box in front of me again.
I shook my head.
“Aren’t they tasty?” she asked, her eyes widening as she spoke. I reluctantly took another. I couldn’t resist and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“These are really good,” I told her.
“I know. Every once in a while, you need a nice treat. I always tell Ray that. Isn’t that right, dear?” She turned to look at him, but he ignored her. His pink shirt was opened enough to see a thick, gold chain on his neck.
“Highland Park… yeah, I’ve been there.” Ray’s eyes were fixed on mine, though he appeared deep in thought. “Deerfield Avenue. There are some car dealerships there. Or is that further south?”
I finished the milk and placed the empty glass on the table.
“Oh, dear. You need some more,” Char said to herself and turned toward the kitchen.
I waved her off, but she went anyway.
Ray ignored her, as Char hummed in the kitchen. “You by the car dealerships? On Deerfield?” Ray asked.
“Oh, sorry. That’s south of me,” I answered, flustered.
“You moved in with your aunt, right?”
Char returned with my glass refilled, as Lucas walked in. “Lucas, have a brownie.” Char held up the box to him. She looked like a pusher.
“Did you have one?” he asked me.
I nodded in response to both Ray’s question and the one from Lucas. I was getting confused with the amount of attention given to me. I glanced at Lucas, wondering if he was done yet. He shook his head and gave Char a dirty look.
“You just feel so good getting a treat like this, don’t you, Emma?”
“Um, yes. They’re very good.”
“Take another. They’re small,” she said. I looked at Lucas, hoping it was time to go. “Lucas, I got another box, just for you, dear.”
He ignored his mom’s comment, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “Let’s go.”
I nodded. He put the strap from the duffel bag on my shoulder, grabbed the plastic tub, and headed down the stairs.
“Bye. Nice meeting both of you,” I said, waving my hand in a brief goodbye.
***
“Want me to drive?” Lucas asked after we loaded my trunk.
I shook my head and got in the car. Why would he drive my car?
After a few blocks turning left and left again to get back to the main street, I started to feel funny.
Dizzy.
I didn’t realize it at first, but I felt lightheaded. What would it be like to fly?
Lucas stared at the road. Didn’t he know I was looking at him? Huh, he was cuter than I thought. Well, not Ben-cute. Definitely nicer, though. Nice mom, too. And Ray was friendly, too.
“Slow down!” he snapped at me.
When I turned back to look at the road, I realized the cars in front of me were at a stop.
I slammed on the brakes. My heart pounded in my chest as I caught my breath. “What’s wrong with me?” I thought to myself. When I heard the words in my own voice, I guessed it was aloud and not just in my head.
“You’re a bad driver. That’s what’s wrong with you.”
I chuckled and turned to look at Lucas after confirming the stop light was still red. He laughed and told me to turn ahead. It was a different route than what we came in on.
I got the giggles. Gut busting, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t-stop-laughing giggles.
By the time he told me the light was green, I had tears running down my cheeks and my stomach ached. I wasn’t even sure what was funny. Nothing actually. Maybe I was getting sick. I didn’t feel well. I didn’t think. Or did I feel great?
Different, I decided. I felt different, like I was free.
I wanted to be free. The seat belt strap that crossed my body bothered me. I tugged on it, pulling it off my chest while I tried to focus on the road. City blocks turned into country fields.
There would be a farm ahead on the left, a tall, white house with a green roof.
Wait. What?
“You drive like a granny,” Lucas said. I think he said it twice. I picked up my speed and told him I wasn’t a granny. This time I couldn’t remember actually hearing my voice.