Cataclysm (17 page)

Read Cataclysm Online

Authors: C.L. Parker

BOOK: Cataclysm
3.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

It was kind of cool how a simple decision could alter a person’s, or in this case, many people’s, destinies. But Kerrigan and Dominic still didn’t know how epic that alteration would be, nor would they for quite some time.

Dominic pulled the Barracuda into the garage and cut the engine. Kerrigan turned in her seat to face him. She couldn’t hold her news in any longer, and the sanctity of the garage was as good a place as any to hit him with it. At least they were alone. Just when she opened her mouth, Dominic turned to her and said, “I have to tell you something.”

The sound of his voice was solemnly subdued. Coupled with the grave expression on his face, she felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Whatever he had to say, it wasn’t good.

“She told you about your dreams, didn’t she?”

He looked toward his lap and nodded, the movement slow and methodical. “Gotta hand it to Lucy, she really knows how to stir shit up. Not that it’s her fault.” He turned to look at her, sweeping his tongue over his bottom lip as he mentally prepared himself. “Something else has been happening since the dreams started. I’ve been... fading in and out... even during the day.”

“What do you mean?”

He ran his hands over his face and inhaled a sizable breath before releasing it slowly. His head fell back onto the headrest, and he turned to look at her with tired eyes. “I mean, I’m sitting there completely solid, in the middle of the goddamn day and then, poof... I’m flickering like a faulty neon light.”

Her heart clenched like a python had slithered its way around her ribs and decided to make a nice snack out of the vital organ. “Oh... God.” Her words were a mere whisper, too silent in contrast with the terror she really felt. Her mouth opened and closed, but the words she wanted to ask wouldn’t form, her vocal chords seemingly refusing to cooperate.

“What did Lucy say?”

“She said the Light you and Availia used to save me is what’s basically keeping my ass from fading out completely. So, basically, I need one hell of a jolt to jump-start my soul, or I’m a dead man.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

It was a very big deal.

Feeling a surge of terror, her mind worked a million miles an hour to find a possible solution. Then it came to her. “William!”

“What?”

“William... from the lighthouse,” she said a little louder. The expression on her face brightened with her epiphany. “Don’t you remember? That night we went to the lighthouse and that ghost attacked me?”

“Don’t remind me. What does that have to do with anything?”

“He was an apparition and when he took some of my energy, it made him stronger. Strong enough that he became more solid.”

“No way, Querida. We’re not doing that. It nearly killed you.”

“Only because he took too much. If you just take a little—”

“I said, no.”

But she wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Not when it meant the difference between life and death for Dominic. He was wrong. She knew she could help him if he would just let her try. She reached her hand toward him, prepared to use her gift, but he stopped her.

He shook his head and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I know you don’t understand, but I can’t let you do that. It’ll take too much.”

“But... but you don’t know that,” she said with a furious shake of her head, still trying to reach for him. She was desperate to fix him, anyway she could.

“Yeah, I do, Querida. Lucy said with the amount of your energy it would take to fix me, it could have a really adverse effect on you. It might work, and we’ll both be fine. It might work and you’ll lose your gift. Or, it might
not
work, and we’ll both just stop existing. And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

Kerrigan was stunned, unable to find the will to imagine a world without the man she loved, without the father of her unborn child. Under different circumstances, she would risk her life without a second thought, but her life was not the only one at risk anymore. She had another one nestled in her womb who depended on her for protection, for the chance to live.

Instinctively, her hand went to her stomach. There was a part of Dominic growing inside of her. Proof of the love they shared. Somehow, she had to find a way to become strong enough to sustain all three of them. She refused to believe destiny had brought them together only to have fate rip them apart before they even had a chance to truly begin.

“So we’re just supposed to sit here and do nothing?” She choked back sobs.

Even in her frantic state of mind, her head was clear enough to weigh her options. The decision was made—she could not tell him about her pregnancy. Doing so would mean his refusal to let her do anything at all. Even after she had trained hard enough to no longer be at risk, she knew he wouldn’t go for it. He would always put her and their baby first.

“For the time being.” He didn’t sound nearly as optimistic as he had probably hoped.

He took her chin between his fingers. “Hey, look at me.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she did as he asked.

“I’m not giving up. I just found you, Querida, and I’m going to fight like hell to stay here with you. Even if it means letting
Drake
,” he said through clenched teeth, “molest my dreams. He might win the battle, but
we’re
going to win the war. Okay?”

She nodded because it was the only thing she could do.

“Good. Now, about this Drew character...”

“I don’t want to talk about Drew right now, Dominic. All I want is to go up to our bed and lie in your arms. I just want you to hold me.”

That was all he wanted, too.

A childish giggle permeated the otherwise bleak and lifeless home. The
Animaniacs
’ Pinky had just kicked Brain into the bars of their cage while doing a Russian dance. Pinky looked over at his leader and asked, “
Whatcha’ doin’ over there, Brain?


Pondering your afterlife, Pinky,
” Brain answered in his morbid tone.
[1]

Another giggle. Nicky reached across the counter to turn off the only television in the tiny two-bedroom home. “You’re supposed to be doing your homework, Colt,” he said, taking his own seat at their kitchen table. One of the legs was shorter than the other three, and the chairs were all mismatched, but it served its purpose.

Colton groaned as only a seven-year-old could. “But, I was watching that.”

“Homework first. That’s the rule.”

The younger sibling grumbled and picked up his pencil to get back to work. After a moment, he stopped his scribbling and looked up at his brother. “I’m hungry, Dom.”

Nicky looked over at his mother, Sarah, still passed out on the couch. Her hair was oily, her skin pallid, and dark rings lined her eyes. A near-empty bottle of vodka sat on the off-centered coffee table. It wasn’t a new sight. They were used to seeing her in that state. Drunk. Again.

Knowing he could never depend on his mother to actually be a mother, Nicky leaned back from his own homework and sighed. “Tell you what. You do your homework, and I’ll make you something to eat. Deal?”

Colton smiled. “Deal!”

Nicky pushed back from the wobbly table and went to the cupboard. As usual, the pickings were slim. Actually, the pickings were none. Their mother never stayed sober long enough to go to the grocery store. It was a rare occasion that she ever left the couch, let alone the house. There were two slices of bread in the blue and white plastic bag, but only a corner of peanut butter left. He opened the refrigerator, finding a quarter of a gallon of milk, butter, and a slice of cheese.

“How ’bout a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Colton gave an excited nod. He loved grilled cheese sandwiches. So did Nicky, but there was only enough for one. He would rather his little brother had it. One would think a mother would be worried about their nine-year-old standing at a hot stove cooking with butter in a skillet, but Sarah didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have the presence of mind to think twice about it.

Once the butter had completely melted, Nicky made fast work of the sandwich. The melted cheese oozed from the side of the toasted bread, and he turned the stovetop off. Then he grabbed a saucer from the dish drain and slid the sandwich onto it. He took special care in cutting the sandwich in half—diagonally, just like his little brother liked it—and then he sat it in front of Colton before resuming his place next to him.

Colton looked at the plate and then over to the empty space in front of Nicky with a frown. “Where’s yours, Dom?”

He shrugged. “I’m not hungry. You eat it.”

Sarah Grayson stirred on the couch. It was the first sign of life they had seen from her since they had arrived home from school nearly two hours before. Knowing she hadn’t eaten anything all day, Nicky got up and grabbed another clean plate. He took the offered half of Colton’s sandwich and placed it on the plate before walking it over to her.

His mother looked up at him with slotted eyes. “Hey, Nicky. How was school?” Her voice was raspy and still carried a slight slur.

“Fine, Mom. Here. Eat.” He held the sandwich out to her.

She looked at the offering and then back to her son before she took it from his hands. “Thanks, baby. Have you eaten yet?”

He nodded, hoping she couldn’t hear his growling stomach. She forgot to eat a lot of the time, so she needed it more than he did.

“We need groceries.”

She sat up, holding her head and wincing from the piercing pain that shot through her skull. “I know, baby. I’ll go tomorrow. Promise.”

Dominic’s dream changed, and the house he had called home warped into a grungy alleyway filled with old newspapers and overflowing dumpsters. He was in Jacksonville. The sound of crowded streets had faded into the sparse comings and goings of the vehicles still prowling the streets at three o’clock in the morning. The stench of garbage was thick from the place where he stood upwind. The vision of his mother melted away and morphed into a balding man in his late forties. He was cowering in the corner, his heavy stomach hanging over his too-tight belt. He was crying, pleading for his life.

Dominic was fourteen, but he stared the man down like he was twice that age. His hand trembled with fear, causing the gun he held to shake. It was his first big job, one he hadn’t wanted to take, but his mother had left him no other choice. She had neglected to make her appointment at the state’s welfare office and caused them to lose their food stamp allotment. He couldn’t let his family go hungry, so he had to do what he had to do.

Ricardo had offered him the job, but not without a measure of trepidation. He didn’t think Nicky—now known by everyone, except his mother, as Dominic—was ready for such a big leap. Dominic agreed, but he was the man of his house, and a man was supposed to take care of and provide for his family.

At first, the cowering man had thought Dominic was a joke. He had laughed at him and called him a punk kid, telling him to run home to his mommy and he might not beat him within an inch of his life. He wasn’t laughing so much when the butt of that punk kid’s borrowed handgun struck him in the mouth.

A bead of sweat rolled down Dominic’s temple. The air was so muggy that even the wee morning temperature was almost too much to bear. He squeezed his left eye shut and used his right to focus on his target. Sweat stung at the corner of his eye, blurring his vision and forcing him to blink to clear his sight.

What had this man done to sign his death warrant? He hadn’t asked because it wasn’t his business. His business was his starving family. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if this man would be leaving behind a family of his own. Possibly a son his age and a pregnant wife who depended on her husband’s income to support their growing family. How would Dominic’s actions change the lives of those unseen faces? By taking this slovenly man’s life, would he doom his innocent family to the same life he had been cursed with?

He couldn’t think about it. It was too much responsibility to put on a fourteen-year-old’s shoulders, not to mention his conscience. But he knew he was about to make a decision that would forever haunt him. A decision that would change him permanently.

Other books

Spies and Prejudice by Talia Vance
Gentle Murderer by Dorothy Salisbury Davis
The New Sonia Wayward by Michael Innes
Big Bad Wolf by Marquis, Michelle
The White Russian by Tom Bradby
Olga by Kotelko, Olga