S.P.I.R.I.T (2 page)

“That was the problem,” Zander spoke up, feeling that I had relaxed enough to release my hand. “No one has ever seen us. Not even as a distorted vision.”

“So, why was I able too?” I mumbled, thinking to myself. I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest, as chills swept through me. “Ok, so that solves one problem. I can’t be brainwashed.” I glanced at the six men around me and sighed. “That only leaves two more unanswered questions. Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

“Where you are is a small town in Colorado.” A thin man with glasses, one that seemed too tall to be in the vehicle, looked at me with a sour face. “How you got here depends on you.”

“Depends on me how?” I sighed, standing up; Zander’s hand gripped my upper arm as I moved towards him. “I fell asleep in my house in Westfield, Massachusetts. I don’t know how I got here, let alone got dressed in clothes that aren’t even mine. And I certainly don’t know what I was doing in front of a church that, oh yeah, YOU blew up!”

I shook out of Zander’s hold and quickly ran out of the trailer, heading for who knew where. All I knew was that I had to get away. As I moved towards the stocks, I felt the arms grasp me around the waist, and suddenly I was stopped in my tracks. The solid body I had gotten used to feeling over the last half an hour was pressed tightly against me, securing my upper arms.

I was in full terror mode at that point, the strain of the excitement that I had experienced in a short amount of time had me shaking in my skin, and I pushed with all I could to get out of those warm arms but he wouldn’t budge. I felt the arms around me shift and suddenly his fingers were tangled in my hair. Frozen with shock, I glanced into his eyes, just as his lips pressed heatedly against mine.

He was warm and inviting, pulsing with desire as his tongue touched my mouth tenderly. I gasped against the onslaught of pulsating emotions and felt him gently slip in. I hadn’t been kissed with that much passion in such a long time, and from first meeting, never pictured that Zander Smith would be anything but hard and unyielding. His kiss proved me wrong.

A heat pooled within me as the warmth of his tongue invaded me. I heard myself moan, an innocent sound that escaped my lips, and I knew that I had become placid in his arms. He wrapped around me, kissing me deeply as if trying to get inside my head, and I couldn’t resist the urge to run my fingers through his hair.

He pulled back, first with his body, as if to create the space needed to break his spell, and then his lips left mine breathlessly. I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath my fingers as he placed his forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his body shaking under my touch.

“Don’t,” I replied, opening my eyes to look into his dark pools. “Please, don’t apologize; it’s the only real thing I’ve been able to grasp tonight.”

“Look, Sam, come back. I’m sure we could explain how you got here and probably help you get home.” He sighed and stepped back a foot, looking at me with concern. “I just…don’t go yet.”

I hesitated, breathed in deeply, which brought with it the smell of his cologne and the reminder of his lips on mine, and I nodded. He held out his hand once again, and slowly I slipped mine into those warm fingers, glancing up as I did. The worry slowly erased from his face, as he turned and led me back to the trailer. I found that despite what I couldn’t understand, and what I didn’t know, I trusted him and I knew that I would be safe.

2

The vehicle rocked with the motion of the dirt road beneath us, swaying back and forth with the same timing as a cradle, and I fought to keep my eyes open. I was tucked in the corner of the back seat, resting against the passenger’s side door, with a heavy wool blanket covering most of my body.

The night had taken a turn and the chill outside the warmth of the duel-cab truck could be felt through the door and down to my bones. Zander looked over in the darkness, the light of the dashboard reflecting off of his eyes, as I let out a shivering breath. Gently, he reached over and placed a hand against the smooth skin of my ankle, wrapping warm fingers around it. My eyes rolled, fighting with everything in me not to give into the sleep that wanted to take over, and struggling to keep the feeling of his touch from interfering with my efforts.

His thumb glided over the beat that pulsed below my anklebone, and the soothing touch brought a strange comfort to my throbbing head.

They were taking me to what they had referred to as ‘central command’, but from what I could tell when we pulled up in the darkness of the night, was it wasn’t more than an abandoned hunting shack. He slipped out the door closest to him, and then, after surveying the area, faced me and reached out a hand for me to take. It was becoming quite a routine as I gripped his fingers and walked cautiously beside him. We stepped into the light of the small building.

He opened the door, his brown eyes staring me down for a moment before he gestured for me to step in. I could feel them traveling the length of my body as I moved passed him. He sighed, breathing out of his nose as he stepped up beside me once again and glanced around at the open floor plan of the small house. The only door, it seemed, was the bathroom no bigger than a handicap stall in a public restroom.

“This way,” he whispered close to my ear, and I jumped in surprise at the proximity of his lips.

He led me over to a darkened corner. It was only then that I noticed the ladder, hidden against the far wall that led up to the attic. He went up, leaving me against the wall glancing only around the small space, before he moved back down to face me.

“It’s not the Ramada, but at least you’ll be able to rest until we can figure out just what’s going on.” His voice was quiet, but concerned at the same time. I nodded, not able to reply, then made my way up the ladder with Zander not far behind.

Once up into the darkness, I found a soft mattress to sit on while a small electric lantern came to life, showing my new surroundings. There were three other mats, one on each wall of the low-ceiling room, but it seemed the one I sat on was the only one made up for use. I wrapped my jacket around me, shivering from the excitement and the chills that still streamed through my body, and glanced over at Zander, who was busy placing various weapons on the small table where the lantern sat.

“The Holiday Inn,” I whispered, and watched him look over at me in surprise. They were the first words that I had spoke since our passionate embrace by the cornstalks. “I prefer the Holiday Inn to the Ramada.”

Zander smiled widely, the first true sign of humor in the light of all of the chaos that night. Slowly he placed the glock down on the table, its clip disengaged and sitting beside it. I watched him turn, cross his legs Indian style, and sit casually on the floor in front of me.

“Tell me, Sam, who are you?” he questioned.

I smiled, amused at the questions he had posed to me that evening. “I’ve already told you that.”

“No,” he said, rubbing his chin, the hint of a five-o’clock shadow under his fingers. “You’ve told me your name and that you live in Westfield, but other than that, I know nothing of you.”

“Oh, that kind of who are you?” I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at him, my blue eyes no doubt sparkling with mischief. “I’m certainly not the kind of person that goes to bed in one state and wakes up half a continent away. I’m just your ordinary person. There isn’t anything special about me.”

“I beg to differ,” he replied, reaching out to brush something from my cheek. The contact of his hand against my skin sent the goose bumps rising over my arms. Zander froze, as if suddenly aware of what happened when we touched, and then slowly sat back. “I’m sorry.”

This comment made me smile as I looked over at him once more, blatantly glancing over the tight black jeans, snug tee shirt and black leather coat he wore.

“No,” I replied, quietly. “But, you don’t look the military type either, Mr. Smith.”

“Touché.” He grinned. “Can you explain to me just what you did before bed tonight? Don’t leave out any details, there has to be something that might have caused you to end up here when you did.”

“I had dinner at five, like I always do. Sat down to look over some paperwork, had a glass of wine at about eight, took a shower and went to bed. Not a thing unusual, nothing that might have…” I stopped suddenly, as memories flashed through my head. “Wait, something did happen. I thought it was just stress from the day, but after I got out of the shower, I dried off. I stood in front of the mirror, like I always do, and it was like an electric shock. Tingles just climbed through me and I saw something, like a vision.”

“Can you recall what it was?”

I glanced over at him, feeling lost in my own world and nodded. “I saw dark eyes staring at me in a dirty mirror, somewhere in a dusty room. Furniture and crates filled the space behind me, but I couldn’t see a face, just those eyes looking back at me, as if I were in that person’s body. I know I reached up and touched the mirror, my hands were covered in dirt, and then a red light flashed and I was back in the bathroom again.”

I watched the look on his face, the color drained from his cheeks as I watched and he seemed to find it hard to swallow as he stared deep into my eyes. I reached out and touched his neck, feeling him growing cold under my touch as he shivered and tried to catch his breath.

“What is it, Zander?” I whispered, unsure of what to do in the face of an obvious panic attack. He shook his head quickly, snapping himself out of whatever trance he had slipped into. He suddenly stood, the best he could with the low beams, and moved over to the ladder.

“Coffee,” he whispered his voice unsure. “I’m going to get some coffee, maybe that will help warm you up. Would you like some?”

Completely confused by his reaction, I watched him slowly disappear, his eyes locked on mine. “Sure.”

It seemed like forever for the ladder to creek under the weight of a person, but as I sat up from the bed that I occupied, I found myself looking at one of the other men that had been in the trailer. He was stocky, almost as short as I was, but his chubby cheeks seemed to give him a boyish look about him.

“My name is Walters. Miss, could you please come with me. Captain Everett would like to speak with you.”

Not waiting for my reply, the stocky young man disappeared down the rungs and stood by at the bottom as I descended. Once sturdy on my feet, he turned and marched to the front door, glancing at me to make sure I followed, and the two of us walked outside.

The red trailer was parked in the darkness, not more than 500 feet from the run down shack, and the door was wide open, exposing the lights and switch panels that hid inside. Walters graciously gestured for me to enter first, but as I moved up within the confines of the ten by thirteen foot space, I noticed that the five other men that I had seen earlier that night stood or sat idly by as I stared at the Captain.

Zander stood behind the group, his arms and ankles crossed as he leaned against one of the keyboards. His head was down, the wisp of his hair covered most of his eyes, but I could see the look of them as he looked out of the corner of his vision. I shook my head, and stuck my hands in the pocket of my black jeans.

“What now?” I inquired, and watched the glances of the men that surrounded me as they turned to Captain Everett for orders, but I also saw the smirk cross Zander’s face as if he had known my reaction to this the whole time.

“Ms. Ricketts, there is something that I want you to see,” Everett spoke, his speech slurred with the unlit cigar still protruding from his lips.

He turned to a monitor behind him and flicked on the switch. I watched the blackened screen with interest, stepping closer as the dusty shapes came into focus, and I realized just what I was looking at.

What’s your position, Lieutenant?
A voice crackled into the silence of the small space around me. The same voice had alarmed me when it had come from his collar.

I’m blind, Captain, this room is clear. There’s nothing in here but old pews, and trunks of choir gowns.
Zander’s voice crackled back, sending the heated chills through me and I quickly glanced in his direction. He had turned to stand facing me now, his eyes locked on mine, waiting for a reaction.
HOLY JESUS!

The startled sound of his voice brought me back to the screen before me and I watched as the man behind the voice stepped closer to the reflection in the dirty old mirror before him. My heart rate jumped, beating so hard my chest hurt from it and I placed the ball of my hand against my ribs to ease the pressure. I watched as his brown eyes came into focus, but his face was hidden by the black mask he wore. Slowly a hand came up to touch the smooth surface of the reflective glass.

What is it, Smith?

Sorry, sir, caught my reflection up here, didn’t expect a mirror.

Well, suck it up son and get your ass out of there!

On my way, Captain.
It was then that a bright red flash of light disrupted the signal on the screen, and he turned to move on in the room.

What was that light?
A different voice interrupted and I remembered it belonged to the thin one with the glasses.