Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1) (12 page)

Dick…

A sneer
twisted my lips as I shoved by them, slamming the door to my room. Tarek didn't
need Wilma's insight to get involved. All the proof he needed was right there, hugging
each other in my living room.

Lena

W
atching Mom cater to Dad, jumping
to do whatever he asked with a smile on her face, made my skin crawl. They
kissed and snuggled. He made her read Bible verses, while she knelt in front of
his seat. Anything he asked, she did, like a meek little slave.

Either I
landed in 1955, or the
Twilight Zone
decided my trailer was the best
place for an episode.

Dinner
consisted of a can of tuna mixed with tomato soup and noodles, some of the last
bits of food left in the cupboards. They ate it like it was Thanksgiving,
making pleasure noises after each bite. I pushed it around my paper plate, only
eating the noodles not covered with tuna or soup.

As Mom
scrubbed the dishes, Dad signaled for me to sit by him, demanding to hear the
Ten Commandments. Every time he felt my recitation missed important points, he
squeezed my hand until the bones in my fingers crunched together. An hour
passed before I said them right, and he finally let me go to my room.

At a
quarter to eleven, they were still up, watching television, praying with some
televangelist. Twelve thirty hit and the television continued to blare as they
listened to a crying woman praise God and ask for money from her viewers. By
one, the desire to break the TV, throw Mom over my shoulder, and run for the
door made it difficult to sit and do nothing.

When I
thought my head would explode, a light tapping echoed through the room. I
circumvented the bed I refused to lay on to open the window. Fear never showed
up, only relief. I knew who'd be waiting.

"Hey,"
I said, trying to turn the volume down on the smile hurting my cheeks.

His
smile shined just as bright. "You forgot to come over." Tarek pressed
a hand to the screen, and with a gesture for me to move back, he pushed it in,
the barrier landing with a quiet
plop
on my floor.

I
flicked off the lights before going back to the window. "My parents are
still up, acting crazy as hell."

His
smile dimmed when he glanced at my lip.

"Something's
wrong with my mom." I touched the tender spot still crusted with blood. "The
floor…after she...It moved."

Tarek's
thumb smoothed over the cut, his eyes hard. "You need to leave this place."

"Well,
I'm not leaving without her." When he opened his mouth, I held up a hand. "I
told you. Something's wrong."

Silence
gnawed away any happy feelings. He couldn't help, and I wouldn't leave without
her. It was an impasse, and no solution would sit well with either of us.

After a
cough, and a once over around my room, finding nothing interesting to focus on,
I said, "So, what're you gonna do, sit outside my window all night?"

The corners
of his mouth turned upward, relieving some of the tension between us. "No.
I plan on coming in."

"Well,
you'll have to wait until they go to bed. Mom usually comes in to check on me,
so..."

"So,
I guess I'll stand out here until then."

"You
might be waiting a while. They're pretty busy worshipping the television."

Like
when we sat in the woods, he massaged my palms, keeping his eyes on the task. "I'm
good at waiting."

I
fidgeted, not knowing what to say to that. Pulling my hands out of his, I said
in a whisper, "Tell me what you meant about the history book thing."

His eyes
found mine. "It's kind of complicated."

"We've
got a few hours to kill."

His
dimples made him look young. Well, younger. He didn't look a day over twenty.

"It's
so odd, explaining all this to you. I have to remind myself that you're not
messing with me."

"Did
I do that a lot?"

He bit
his bottom lip and shrugged. I couldn't help giggling, acting as though I hadn't
just spent the entire evening watching my parents perform like deranged
puppets.

"I'll
bet I did if you wore stuff like that shiny leotard all the time," I said.

His face
reddened. "Hey, that suit has its uses." He grabbed my hands again,
as though he needed to touch me.

"Like
what?"

"Well,
like...you know, stuff. Warrior stuff."

A laugh
escaped, defeating the purpose of whispering. "Warrior stuff?"

He
smiled, his fingers continuing to put gentle pressure on my palms. "Yeah,
warrior stuff. I wouldn't expect a non-warrior to get it."

"Oh,
I'm a warrior."

He
raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

If my
smile stretched any bigger, it'd swallow my face. "Sure. I'm tough. Don't
let the skinny arms fool you."

He
reached up to feel my bicep. "Oh, right, yeah, I get it. Definitely tough."

I
giggled again, sounding like those empty-headed predators I despised in school.
"Okay, enough. About those history books, educate me, warrior."

His
smile faded as he looked toward my bedroom door. "Wait a minute." He
moved to lean against the side of the trailer, away from the window.

My door
opened as I closed the blinds. "Lena? What're you still doing up?"
The vacant look still dulled Mom's eyes. "If you miss school tomorrow, you'll
answer to your father."

Something's
wrong. Something's wrong. Don't yell
.
"Sorry, I'll go to bed now."

"Say
your prayers." She shut the door, and in a few minutes, the drone of the
television quieted and the click of their bedroom door traveled through the
paper-thin walls.

I yanked
open the blinds to find Tarek scowling. "Why do you care about that woman?"

"She's
my mother."

"So?"
He gripped the sill, his knuckles white.

"I'm
not leaving without her. Period."

He
dragged a hand through his hair.

"What?
Was I some kind of heartless bitch before or something? I didn't have a family?"

"I'm
your family. And Wilma."

I couldn't
help noticing he said it in the present tense. "No parents? Siblings?"

"New
energies are a rare occurrence, much less having a sibling." He hesitated.
"Only one instance has been recorded in the last three centuries. Your
parents, as with many of us, left during your first cycle, retired to another
dimension."

"Why
would they do that?" It all sounded so bleak, so callous.

Holding
his hand out for mine, I took the invitation, needing his warmth. "After a
while we lose compassion, empathy." He squeezed my hand. "But with
us, it's different. Wilma, too. You're loved, more than anyone could ever love
you here."

I blinked
away tears, not really sure why I cried, and backed up. "You can come in
now. We'll just have to be quiet."

He
gripped the sill and vaulted over. My heart flipped. All those stories Mom used
to read, about princesses and the brave knights saving them, had me waiting
around the window for my own hero to jump through. Actually, for
Him
to
jump through. At fourteen, I decided I made a better hero than someone
imaginary.

When I
stood there, staring, he scrunched his brow. "What?"

"Ah...nothing."
My face heated as my heart swelled twice its normal size. Hmm, maybe I stopped
waiting for
Him
too soon.

Tarek
shrugged and sat on the bed only to get pushed around as the water sloshed and
waved. Watching him try to right himself as he whispered curses helped ease the
temporary mind blip. For some reason his presence evoked multiple fits of
embarrassing, high-pitched giggling.

"You
think it's funny, huh?" He snaked an arm around my waist, yanking me down
to float with him.

He pulled
me up to lay almost on top of him, his body heat protecting me from the cold
seeping through the rubber mattress. "Now this is a particularly good
example for when my warrior suit would be useful."

I buried
my face in his chest, the strange combination of fire and familiarity racing
through me. "It's not that cold once you get used to it."

His
chest rumbled. "Liar."

"Pretty
much."

We lay
there for bit, without saying anything, until the bed stopped moving. He rubbed
my back, one strong finger moving from the base of my spine to my neck. The
energy sizzling through my limbs warmed the places where his body didn't
protect mine from the mattress.

"Do
you still want to hear about the history books?"

The
movements of his finger down my back relaxed me so much I'd almost fallen
asleep. But the promise of more information had my eyelids staying open, if
only halfway. "Yeah."

He
stopped and started a few times, a habit he seemed to have, before speaking. "When
you live in Exemplar, you're taught about the dimensions and your
responsibility as a Guide or Protector at an early age. We're fostered out at
six during our first cycle to train, learn."

"At
six? That seems so young."

He
continued to rub my back. "It's just the way it is. We all have a responsibility,
being privileged." He spit out that last word as if it were a curse. "Anyway,
the biggest lessons we're taught are the histories, the evolutions of
humankind."

"Evolutions?"

"All
dimensions are essentially the same, just in different evolutionary stages. In
some dimensions, humans are not as evolved physically, like the squid in Arcus.
Many more are not as evolved socially or technologically as we are in Exemplar,"
he said. "But the fundamental link holding the universe together is that each
dimension has gone or will eventually go through the same changes, even if the
worlds are different."

"That
sounds...complicated." I snuggled closer, my eyes droopier. "So,
where is Earth on the evolutionary scale?"

His body
tensed. "It's archaic compared to Exemplar."

I
reached up to pat his arm. "Hey, at least I didn't go someplace where we're
still monkeys."

"At
least."

"So,
what do Guides do with the energy exactly?" After everything, I still had
no idea how the whole thing worked. "Why doesn't energy stay in the same
dimension?"

Tarek
continued to trail that finger up and down my back, hypnotizing me into
relaxing every muscle. "When the body gives out, energy is transferred to
the Warden, who holds it until a Guide is able to come to the dimension. Back
when–"

"Give
me the condensed version, please." I burrowed closer. "My eyes are
about to shut."

He
laughed. "Okay, okay. So long story short, energy has the ability to
evolve, even if the dimension's evolution is slow. Some energies deserve better
their next cycle, some need or should stay in the dimension they're in, while
others...devolve, I guess? Those are the energies that need to be disbursed,
ah, destroyed, or taken to dimensions for self-reflection, punishment."

"Dimensions
like Arcus, you mean?"

"Yes."
He pulled me closer, the move making it difficult to keep my lids from slamming
shut. "So, tomorrow..."

"I
go to school." My words slurred together, the floating monstrosity never
so comfortable.

"But–"

"I
need to go. If I don't, Dad will kick my ass. You can drive Wilma's car, take
me there, and pick me up at three."

"If
that's the only choice I have, I guess it'll do."

"It
is, and you need to leave soon." I snuggled closer, clinging tighter.

"No,
I think I'll stay."

Lena

A
s big as he was, Tarek didn't make
a sound when he climbed out the window and replaced the screen.

The minute
he left, cold invaded my body. I tried to sleep for another hour, but without
extra blankets and clothes, it'd be impossible. The idea crossed my mind to get
up and go through the usual bed-prepping routine. Of course, the chance the bed
would suck me in again was enough to change the plan to a shower.

When I slogged
to the kitchen, Mom was up, arranging saltine crackers on a plate. Deep circles
shaded her eyes, and her hands shook as though she experienced the same withdrawals
as Dad. I dropped my backpack and snuck up behind her, wrapping my arms around
her waist.

She
patted my hands. "Hey, honey."

Relief
loosened the knot in my stomach. "Love you, Mom."

No telling
how long she'd been awake, but it must've been enough time for whatever trance
she'd been under to dissolve. The pattern became apparent. When Dad spoke, his
voice pulled the strings on his marionette wife, but the effects were finite.
Mom stood in front of me now, not the puppet.

"You
sleep okay?"

Hmm.
I guess worshiping the television and obeying the evangelical, alcoholic
husband slipped your mind, Mom?

"Uh...yeah,
sure."

One look
in her eyes dissolved any leftover animosity, as lucid emeralds turned to scrutinize
my face.

"Hey,
you need to listen, okay?" When she nodded, I continued, "Whatever
happens, I'm not leaving you. No matter what, nothing's gonna scare me."

Her eyes
filled as she nodded again. She swallowed a few times and put a shaking palm on
my cheek. "I'm going crazy. I say things and... It's like I can't control
it."

Dad's
morning hacking caught my attention. I squeezed the hand on my cheek. "You're
not crazy. We'll get out of here, just like we planned." I rushed to
finish when the bedroom door clicked opened. "Just don't tell him. Be
strong."

"You
better hurry, peanut. We can't have you missing the bus." As soon as he
spoke, her brilliant eyes clouded, and a scowl twisted her lips.

Mom went
around me and into his arms, ogling him like he was a god. "Listen to your
father, Lena. He knows what's best."

I
grabbed my backpack, filled with the rest of the stuff I needed to get to Jake's,
and left, saying nothing to either of them.

∞ ∞ ∞

No kids
stood at the bus stop since the thing wasn't due for another fifteen minutes.
Not one person in the entire park was ever
that
eager to get to school. Since
most people living here didn't have a job, the foggy morning silence gave me a
chance to walk into Wilma's place without any tongues wagging.

After
yesterday, I'm sure Tarek's presence was a main topic of conversation. All I
needed was one of the gossip hens mentioning to Dad they saw me sneaking off to
visit the strange guy at Wilma's.

The
smell smacked me as soon as the door opened. Sausage and coffee had my stomach
screaming, and the biscuits Tarek pulled from the oven made my mouth water.

He
turned when I shut the door and smiled. "Hungry?"

His
hair, still damp from a shower, was tied back with one of the hairbands Wilma
always had lying around. I recognized the shirt he wore, one of Wilma's old
extra-large, faded black men's T-shirts. She wore them because they were
comfortable, let her breathe, she said. The shirt wasn't a baggy sack on Tarek.
Soft cotton hugged every muscle, particularly his chest and biceps.

I studied
my hands as a treacherous blush burned my cheeks. "Starving."

He took
a plate from the cupboard, piling it high with sausage, eggs, and a buttered
biscuit and set it on the small kitchen table. "Sit."

It didn't
take much to coax me, especially since the last thing I ate were the noodles
from last night's dinner. I got over how Tarek looked in the shirt, too. Food
always had a way of distracting me from everything else.

I
squeezed ketchup on my eggs and scooped everything into the biscuit, forcing
myself not to inhale, trying to taste every bite. Zander brought me breakfast
sometimes, pulling it out of his backpack with all the flair of a magician. It
irritated me, the way he always made it a big deal, as if his charitable act
was doing me a favor–more like giving himself a few karma points.

Total
opposite of Zander, Tarek made no comments. He just shoved the plate on the
table in front of me and sat down, concentrating on stuffing everything on his
heaping plate into his mouth.

Well...if
he could do it...

Grinning,
I dropped the delicate act, only using enough manners to keep food off my
clothes.

I finished first and went to get a
paper towel. My chair sliding against the tan linoleum didn't interrupt Tarek's
breakfast, his head still bent and focused on his eggs. As I wiped my face and
sat down, I studied his hands, huge and littered with tiny white scars. The tears
hiding behind my eyelids surprised me. I mean, I had only known the guy for
like less than three days.

But I had no idea how he got all
those scars. I'd bet the old Lena knew. His Lena.

Jealousy ripped through my core,
stabbing my heart as realization hit like a sledgehammer. He wasn't here for
me. As much as I wanted to tell him about his role in my dreams, I couldn't. I
didn't want him to get excited or happy–because that would only make him want
her
more. It would make him think
she
still existed. The Lena he knew…the
Lena I wasn't.

"I'm not her, you know."
The words escaped before I could clamp my mouth shut.

He stopped eating. After a slow
swallow, he put down his fork without looking up. "I know."

I swiped at a renegade tear.
Why
the hell was I crying?
"I don't think you do."

Another swallow bobbed his throat.
His silence screamed at me, declaring what I knew to be true.

Anger from somewhere deep and
hidden seethed at the surface. "Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, still looking down. "Anything."

"If she was so great, why did
I end up here?"

His head popped up at the question,
those gray eyes drilling right into mine. "What do you mean?"

"It sounds like she was a
criminal, or at the very least, an asshole."

His eyes turned to stone. "She
wasn't."

I held up my hands, shaking my
head. "Hey, don't get pissed at me. I'm just stating the obvious."

He stared for what had to be five
long, uncomfortable minutes before his face softened. After tapping his fingers
on the table, looking a bit lost, he knelt in front of me. Another stray tear
escaped, and his callused thumb brushed it away.

He sighed. "I know you're not
her, but…I also know who you are," one of those scarred hands touched my
chest, right over my heart, "in here."

Well, that just caused the
floodgates to open. I didn't know if I was happy or miserable. All I knew was
that my skin was on fire where his palm rested.

Tarek pulled the mangled paper
towel from my white knuckled fist and wiped my face. "We'll get through
this. Together."

I hugged him, not even considering we
barely knew each other. Because being near him…it was like I'd known him my entire
life. "Okay."

The
sputtering bus interrupted. Tarek untwined my arms to open the curtains, revealing
kids shuffling up the bus steps single file, as though they were going to the
penitentiary instead of school.

Practice
for the future…

"Guess
we should go, too," he said.

I wiped
my eyes one more time and took both our plates to the sink, rinsing them off
and putting them in the strainer. "Yeah, can't be late. I wouldn't want to
get hit for being disobedient."

"What're
you talking about?"

After
grabbing my backpack off the couch, I opened the door when the bus drove away. "Not
important. It'd be just another thing you'd torture yourself with, anyway."

Tarek
grabbed my elbow, preventing me from stepping out to the porch. "Listen,
I…"

He
leaned in. His chest so close, the heat radiating from his body scorched me.
One of those beautiful, scarred fingers traced my jaw as his lips hovered above
mine.

I
waited, wanting him to tell me–I had no idea what I wanted him to say, really.
I just wanted him to kiss me. "What?" My voice hardly rose above a
whisper.

His lips
pursed as his fingers curled into a fist, dropping from my face. "Nothing.
Let's go."

∞ ∞ ∞

When we made
it to school, Tarek dropped me off right outside the parking lot so no one
would see us, especially Jake. As promised, my boss' Range Rover sat idling in
the second row. I ran up and knocked on the passenger window, causing him to
jump, obviously looking for me to come from the direction of the bus drop-off. He
rolled down the window, masking his surprise with irritation. "You're late,
like, by a day."

I couldn't
help smiling, even after the crying jag at Wilma's. He could be so grumpy when
he worried. "Sorry. Needed a day." I dumped the contents of my bag on
the seat. All that was left to bring were my new running clothes, a couple
sweatshirts, underwear, and the jeans I wore. Of course, Mom's stuff, too, but
I'd have to wait until she quit being nuts.

"This
is mostly it for me. Mom's things are all that's left."

"I
should just go there, take you guys, beat the shit out of him." He kept
his eyes on the steering wheel.

"And
have him call the cops? Bad idea, Jake."

He
rubbed the stubble on his cheeks and gave his best annoyed scowl. "A few
more days, then?"

Telling
Jake about dimensions, Wardens, and something controlling the minds of my
parents wasn't a good idea if I wanted him to believe sanity still played on my
side. "Yeah."

He
reached in the glove box and pulled out an envelope. "Bought some
Melatonin." He handed me the pills. "Tell her to give him all six,
make sure he goes to sleep."

Yeah,
maybe I'd give them to her instead?

"Hey,
Mom and I thought maybe Saturday instead of Friday? She's afraid to be there
alone if the pills don't work."

I hated
lying, but the truth was less believable.

Jake
nodded. "No, yeah, that makes sense. What time?"

"Don't
know. I'll go to Wilma's when he's asleep, call you from there." We didn't
have a phone, hadn't for close to two years. Dad decided the bill got in the
way of buying alcohol.

"You
want me to come here tomorrow, get your mom's things?"

"We'll
get them when Dad passes out. He hasn't been leaving the house much lately."

He gave
another nod but didn't make a move to put the car in reverse. I knew he was
nervous about the whole deal, but as I told him on Sunday, "You have to
trust me."

Jake
sighed, scrubbing his face again. "I do trust you. I'm just...I wish
things were different, that's all."

The last
few kids walked in before the late bell, laughing, listening to their
iPods...talking. Nothing going wrong in their bubbles. "Yeah. Me, too."

"So,
Saturday?"

I leaned
in the window to squeeze his hand. "Saturday."

∞ ∞ ∞

I made
it to homeroom before the bell rang. Zander sat in his usual spot, tapping the
top of the desk, staring at the door. His eyes lit when he noticed me. He
pulled my breakfast from his backpack with the same theatrics as usual. "Viola!"

No
thanks, New Zander. You'll have to collect the karma points from someone else.