The Torn, Book One of the Holding Kate Series (18 page)

Gently tapping my
face, Trip spoke when I opened my eyes. “Katie, come on girl.”

I blinked away the confusion and remembered why I had ended up splat on the floor. Corey was not back. Corey, sweet Corey was trapped in the quantum jump with Pinky.

Or worse.

I couldn’t accept that. “Take me to the lounge, Trip.”

He lifted me off the floor and practically carried me to the lounge where we waited for the first team member to come through the doors. We waited and waited. No one came. We paced and waited and paced and waited. Nothing.

Anxiety was snowballing in my chest and I thought I would explode into a thousand shards, one for every year I had loved Corey. Finally, Trip growled and left to get some information. He dragged a medic into the room with him.

“Now, tell us.”

“They no longer speak English. We are going to have to retrain them to speak with us, before we know what happened. It shouldn’t take long.”

I don’t know if it was the long anxious wait, the soul scathing experience with The Mother, the hellacious jump into twisterdom, the sting of losing Greg, or the way my heart seemed scraped and tender after my all of my heightened experiences at this cursed village, but I was no longer in control. A wall of emotion slammed into my fragile façade.

“Where is Corey?” I roared.

The medic jumped and shifted nervously. “He and the girl,” He checked his clip board, “Eunavae Montgomery…”

“Pinky!” Trip and I both interjected impatiently.

“Pinky, did not come back through. We aren’t sure why. It may simply be the fact that they were not geographically within range. We kept a pinhole open, so we can get to them.”

“Get to them?” I glanced at Trip, hopefully.

“However, none of the jump leaders are willing to go under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?” What in the world was he blabbering on about? Why was I repeating everything he said?

“Language barrier, evidently time frame, barbaric climate and species. One of the jumpers has a huge scar on his leg from an attack of some sort. They believe it is too risky to send in a retrieval squad, even considering the jumper who is the heir...”

My mouth fell open as he spoke. I could not believe these people were abandoning my friends. My panic was quickly morphing into rage and I interrupted the senseless babbling. “So you are going to leave them there? Are you out of your freakin’ minds?” My eyes felt wild with disbelief. What was going on here? What kind of monster was running this show? These people were not trustworthy. My eyes went searching for something that I could hold onto. They landed on my protector. “Trip?” My voice was pleading. He took my hand.

“We will go.” He announced. “We will go in and bring them out.”

“No, not until we know more…”

Trip leaned his enormous gladiator frame over into the medic’s face and growled. “I am not asking for permission, medic. I am telling you we are going in to retrieve them. TODAY!” The medic literally took a step away from Trip.

“I will make the arrangements,” he murmured.

“Come on. I need to talk to someone.” He pulled me from the room and we strode down the hallway until we saw the processing room with Mel and Donnie in it. He pushed open the door and we slid in.

Mel and Donnie turned around to look at us curiously. Recognition flitted across Mel’s features. “Tor ram tsi gu ra’ll legths,” she said excitedly.

Donnie touched her shoulder. “Deunat tsi g u tilia scorg na’”

Trip walked right up to Mel, looked her in the eye and said, “Corey!” “Pinky!”

“Coriea and Eunavevie?” Mel nodded.

Trip waggled his thumb back and forth between his shoulder and mine. “We jump for Corey and Pinky! Back, bring them home.”

“Crotur sin sti adon,” she said.

I had no clue what that was supposed to mean. “Mel, we are going back to get them. Do you understand?”

“Unerdsatanda.” She stood up and took off her enormous parka and handed it to me. She turned to Donnie. “Coreia, Eunavevie fek sondal tir mi.” She pointed to his parka.

Donnie shook his head. “Ni, sun tormik tir mi.” He moved to stand beside Trip, then said to him, “weed djump.” He waved his hand between us, including himself in our jump.

Trip gave him an appraising look, then nodded. Donnie turned to Mel and kissed her long and passionately. He broke away and placed his hand on her belly, whispered in her ear. A tear trickled down her cheek and she kissed him again.

I didn’t even realize they had been a couple. Then a strange thought began to grow inside of me. Maybe they weren’t before the jump. Maybe it happened on the jump. How long were they gone?

Trip laced his fingers through mine and urged me through the door and we moved down the hallway again. Trip stopped at another door and entered Tara’s processing room. She stood up and turned her head to the side, then cut open a beaming smile and flung herself into Trip’s arms and kissed him full on the lips.

Passionately. With great strength… and fervor.
Whoa! You go girl.

At first he stiffened, and then he sort of rocked backward on his heels, then forward. Then he dropped my hand and melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and I realized how perfectly matched they were. The god and goddess, together, it was inevitable. They were partners in every way. I only felt a twinge of jealousy and I think it was more for the lack of my own perfect reunion more than my feelings for Trip.
I think.

When they finally broke apart they just stood and stared into one another’s eyes for a long moment, in some private communication. Donnie cleared his throat awkwardly and Trip whirled around to see my expression, his face dazed and concerned and… dazed.

I raised my eyebrows and my stupid grin seemed to say it all. He chuckled, shook his head and blew a puff of air. Then turned back to Tara, picked her up and twirled her around, beaming a big goofy grin. Then he dropped her, staggered back, frowned and moved to stand half way between us. His expression was a bit shell shocked. He blinked rapidly, rammed his brows together in utter confusion then cut his eyes to me. They were glassy and fire seemed to simmer beneath them.

Hey, that fire was supposed to be for me! No, this is what you want idiot!
I argued with myself.

Donnie spoke something in their language and a serious demeanor settled onto Tara, her brow creased. She looked at me and then Trip and nodded.

“Taria, djump.” Donnie confirmed.

Trip grinned and we hurried to fit them in suits and make arrangements for the jump.

Navarro loaned Trip his parka so we were appropriately garbed when we landed on the snowy world. We perched on the peak of a tall mountain and gazed down on a village set into the side of a sister mountain. It was bordered by a large lake on one side and the mountain on another and a gorge to the east. From this height, we could see the range of crags was massive. As far as we could see, the mountains stretched toward the clouds.

Donnie pointed and said something that sounded like “jewel city”, but affected with years of accent.

“Comn, mi home.” Tara attempted her first language. The last word was almost perfect English.

We followed Tara down the mountain pass until we reached a small cottage that was nearly obscured by the forest. “Home.” She was trying. It wouldn’t be long before she could speak English again. I latched onto that hope.

We settled into her cabin just in time. A blizzard attacked and raged outside. Icy sleet beat against the sides of the little cottage.

“Trip, we have to find Corey and Pinky,” I whispered as I stared out of the window at what could turn out to be our prison.

“Be patient, Kate. We need information. The best thing we can do is talk a lot, in English, to get these two back. They are our best source of information.” He angled his head toward Donnie and Tara.

While we spoke in hushed but urgent tones, Donnie started a fire in the hearth and Tara clanged around in the kitchen. “So…what? See Spot run?”

Trip grinned. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay.” I laughed and turned to Donnie. “So, Donnie, did you hear the one about Sponge Bob Square Pants entering a sushi bar?”

I worked on Donnie and Trip talked up Tara while we prepared a small dinner of potato onion soup. After we had eaten, Trip leaned back against the wall and started telling stories of the arena. I sat spell bound at the exotic and dangerous three years they had lived out.

I watched Donnie. Occasionally, he would repeat a word or phrase and a light would click on in his eyes. Tara seemed to understand most of what Trip said. Her eyes sparkled with intensity. She remembered each battle vividly.

Trip stopped talking long enough to take a sip of water, and I asked the question that had been burning inside of me. “How long does it take to forget the language you were born with?”

Trip shook his head. “A long time, Kate.”

We stared at Tara and Donnie, and then surveyed the well-settled cabin. Decades of soot seasoned the mantle, and the floors were well worn.

I turned to Tara. “How long?” I waved my hands around her cabin. “How long was the jump?”

She narrowed her eyes in concentration, and then said. “Long life.” She glanced at Donnie for help.

“Long.” He repeated and moved his hand around in a circle. “Long…er…yee..yea…”

“Years?” I asked unbelievably. A jump that lasted a few years or even a decade would change the jumpers so completely that they would never be the same.

“Years,” they both said in unison.

“Long years. O…O…Old.” She patted herself on the chest. “Old I.”

“You are old?” I shook my head. She was getting the words wrong, she had to be. I couldn’t comprehend what that would mean for Corey.

“Old.” She nodded.

I had an idea. “Long years.” I jumped up and grabbed a sack of some kind of dried beans. I laid out 16 beans on the table. “My years are 16.” I counted them out loud and touched my chest. “I am 16 years old.” I handed her the bag of beans.

She nodded and began pouring them out on the table. She placed 228 beans on the table. I sighed. She obviously was not getting the concept. “Trip you try it. She doesn’t understand.”

He took a handful of beans and counted out 17, then touched his chest. “I am 17 years old. I have lived 17 years.”

Tara nodded and pointed to her beans.

Donnie grabbed the sack and counted out 232 beans. “Loooong years.” He said.

Trip and I exchanged baffled glances. “You were here for 212 years?” Trip took away 16 of Tara’s beads pointed at the remaining 212 and then spread his arms to include the world.

Tara and Donnie both nodded their heads, faces drawn in unfathomable sadness.

My mouth fell open and I scooted over next to Trip. He took my hand and we scraped our courage together. “Trip? How? Can this be real?” If this was true, then Corey was probably out of my life for good, or maybe even dead.

These people had to start talking now. I had to know where my Corey was, and this patience thing was getting on my last nerve. My breathing came in short pants and the pressure in my chest expanded, threatening to go atomic.

“I guess that is why they were gone so long.”

“Where is Corey?” I whispered, my breaths increasing, I frantically searched their confused eyes and lost all patience for their language limitations. They were Americans for Uncle Sam’s sake! They had to remember English! My intensity was aiming for hysteria. “Where is Corey?” I demanded. They just stared at me.

An explosion billowed inside of me. I shoved the beans aside and stretched across the table and grabbed Donnie’s shirt. “Please, tell me where you last saw him? Where is Corey? I know you know. Tell me!” Tears sprang from my eyes and my breath rasped over my vocal chords. “Tell me.” The last two words were a desperate plea. Donnie’s face crumpled as he held my arms. His eyes welled and bored into mine as I clenched his shirt into balls in my fists.

Trip wrenched my hands away from Donnie. “I can’t lose him. Trip, he can’t be gone.” I wheezed and the room spun around me. Trip scooped me into his arms and carried me to a side room.

He and Tara sat with me and spoke calming words until my panic attack subsided. Some of Tara’s words were even in English. I fastened onto each word, anchoring my hope in her ability to tell us something soon.

I watched her movements and mannerisms. She did seem measured and confident, like a grandmother would be. She placed a warm cloth in my hands, and I wiped my tears and blew my nose. She combed my hair back gently cooing and comforting me. It made me think of my Grammy. I leaned against her shoulder for support. She stopped cooing and a little giggle came out of her. I looked up into her eyes.

She touched her chest and said, “I Mutha now.”

“Yes, you are the Mutha.” I lifted the corner of my mouth and snorted.

My eyes grew serious. “I need Corey.” I whispered, pleadingly. “I need to know he is alive and…and perfect.” The last word was raspy and filled with the desperation that overwhelmed me.

She nodded. “I know.” She forced out in a clipped way. “I know w.. wa..” She sighed in frustration. “I know tis dal okl redia sortsk tsi ladont y killo.”