Dark Daze (11 page)

Ian dragged his gaze from the curve of her
hip, where it strove to linger, and scooted to the far cushion.
“What’s happening? What connections?”

She stared at him, eyes wide as if he’d
sprouted another head. “You’re the one. They’ve all been about you.
Well, you and the creature.”

“Me? But we met so recently.”

Brie shifted on the couch to face him
directly, her arm resting on the back, her knee propped on the
cushion. She touched a fingertip to the first finger of her other
hand, counting off. “First was my brother. I always thought my
first flip was about him. Poor Roge.”

“I couldn’t have anything to do with your
brother’s death,” Ian said, a little alarmed at the
association.

 ”But it wasn’t about Roge. It was about
being outside to witness it. Someone…God, the Fates, I don’t
know…whoever gave me this gift. They wanted me to see what was
happening to the sky. The reports of it were sketchy, but a few
people said they saw the sky open. You heard those reports,
right?”

“Of course, who didn’t? They reminded us of
it every three minutes until the scientists explained it away as
the
aurora effect
.”

“Well, I saw it too. And I saw something come
through. Something dark, which sucked the light from the very
fissure it entered.”

Ian’s throat closed. A lump the size of a big
rig parked there.

“Then a year or so later, when my mother
died, I saw her reading a novel. She died in my flip, and I ran to
her, but she was sleeping. A week later when she passed away, I
remember seeing this novel about an editor who gets terrorized by
an obsessed assistant.” She grasped the glass of tea and took a
long drink.

He gave her a moment to compose herself. What
an amazing and strong woman. Despite her current pause, her
demeanor remained quizzical, for the most part, even in light of
such painful memories. Ian couldn’t help but place a consoling hand
on her back. He wished he could protect her. Take the memories and
replace them with the puppy dogs and kisses girls were supposed to
remember from their childhoods.

“Then I saw a boy through the eyes of my
brother’s friend, Larry. The boy must have been seventeen or so at
the time. Anyhow, he fell and broke his arm. When he fell, he
turned bright blue and crackled…Larry thought he must’ve imagined
it.”

Ian’s mouth dropped open.
Larry? It
couldn’t be.
“Larry Medlock?”

She nodded and continued, “About a year ago,
I found myself in the head of a man wandering around a book
convention where authors were signing their works. The man had a
heart attack when he reached the front of the line. And lately I’ve
been flipping all the time. I’ve been seeing a woman named Andrea,
and she’s reading a book about a man who’s terrorized by a shadow.
I can’t recall the name, or who wrote it, but I remember the cover.
I’d know it if I saw it.”

“Maybe you should look for it in your i-com.
They should have it linked in.”

“It’s not. I thought it might be important,
so I checked, but I couldn’t find it without the title.” Her brow
furrowed and she stared at her fingers for a moment. “Wow, has it
really only been a few days? It seems like years ago. Anyway, I
need a real bookstore where I can browse the covers without knowing
the title or author.”

“You can try the bookstore at the mall later
because if it sounded so close to what was happening in real life,
it could be connected. At this point, things are so far beyond
coincidences it’s not funny.”

“It is connected. Everything is. You know,
the Mayans predicted Dark Day.”

“Really?” Ian couldn’t recall much. His
experiences on Dark Day wiped out all the other details surrounding
it.

“Their calendar ended, and they predicted a
big change…and they were right. Everything changed, at least for
some people. It may not have looked like it, but you got your
gift.” Brie held out an open palm toward his frantic mother. “She
got her power, and I got mine. Plus, the sky opened and let this
thing in. Whatever it is, I think it’s very real, and I’m wondering
if we got our gifts because of it.”

“Okay, so how do we decide what all this
means?”

“Let’s take this puzzle one piece at a time.
Look, you were the boy I saw with Larry. The flip showed me your
power so when I saw it, I could believe it. The books must have a
meaning in all this too. Particularly when one book seems to be
very close to what is happening to us right now.”

Ian glanced towards his mother as the world
crumbled beneath his feet. It was Dark Day all over again. He
clasped his hands together to hold on to reason. “You should
definitely see if you can find the book.”

Brie nodded.

“When you’re done, whether you find it or
not, you know you have to leave, right?”

She met his gaze and pushed a wayward tendril
behind her ear. “You know I won’t, right?”

He should start a fight. Make her go with his
mother where she would be safe. But truth be told, he feared for
her safety when he wasn’t with her as much as when he was. Besides,
if he were going to die, he wanted nothing more than to be with her
for his final hours. The strength of that desire hit him.

Dear God, he
loved
her.

They’d just met, even if it did seem like
he’d known her forever. And after all he’d seen of her and the
difficulties they’d been through, he couldn’t imagine another day
without her.

How had this happened? He’d never let anyone
close to him for fear they might discover his secret. This woman
had slammed through his defenses and locked herself in his heart
before he’d even known what was happening.

“Boy-o.” His mother’s voice sounded thin.
“It’s done.”

Ian blinked then glanced up. Her pale face,
framed by shaking hands, was dappled with different paint colors.
As though she were some sort of street performer on the beach in
Venice. Edvard Munch’s Scream rendered in flesh.

His mother had always been the embodiment of
strength. She’d never, not even when he’d nearly killed his father,
shown even the least bit of fear. She was his rock. And her
expression terrified him.

Ian stood, Brie at his side, and they hurried
to the canvas.

“Oh my God.” The words were out before he
even realized he would speak them.

The canvas, filled with dark swirls and
blackened at the edges, held the image of a man on the floor,
covered in blood, face a pale mask. A dog stood protectively at his
feet. A woman crouched by him, fingers entwined in his as light
shot from his chest. A brunette holding a book, a man, face
darkened by a hood, and a waitress, or perhaps a maid, floated in
the dark swirls.

“No.” Brie backed away from the canvas, her
face pale. “No. You’re dying…You’re dying there.” Her voice rose to
near hysteria.

Ian grabbed her hand, pulling her close.

“Oh no, you’re not dying.” Brie looked
frantically around the room as if the escape route hid behind some
piece of furniture. “I’m not going to let you. You can’t go.”

He smiled. “Even my mother wouldn’t say—”

“I am saying it.” His mother’s voice was a
faded pastel imitation of what it had always been, as though she
were in a dream. Her expression hardened as her voice did. Her
words were like a hammer, pounding her point home. “You’re. Not.
Going. And that’s final.”

He surveyed one pale face then the other. No
doubt crossed his mind. Not even for an instant. He loved both
these women. Still, Brie might be the one with the intuition, but
even he could sense he must do this.

“This has to be done. This threat…” He
pointed at the canvas. “This thing, whatever it is. I have to stop
it. You and I are meant to stop it. Maybe no one else can. Besides,
we don’t know if I’m dying here.”

Ian looked at his pale gray features and
blood-covered limbs and tried to be optimistic. He could
survive.

“I’ll tell you what. That’s obviously Buster,
so if I don’t bring him, he can’t be standing over me, and this
can’t happen, right?”

The women shared a concerned glance, then
turned back to him, hesitant.

“You can’t,” his mother whispered.

“And when this thing comes after us? Or
others die instead of us? What then?” Ian needed to say the words,
harsh as they might be. Otherwise, his mother wouldn’t be able to
live with his decision. “There has to be a reason we lost Dad.
There has to be an explanation why we were forced to hide all these
years. This is the purpose. If we don’t honor it now, then we went
through it for nothing, and we’re just waiting to die. Which”—he
pointed at the floating demon—”if this thing is real, will be
soon.”

Brie lifted a hand to her mouth and slinked
to the couch. She sagged onto the cushions and dropped her head
into her hands. Ian turned toward his mother, who glanced from him
to the canvas and back. A million emotions played over her face,
none remaining more than a second. He wanted to say he wouldn’t go,
and promise it would all be okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to
lie to her. She closed her mouth, her eyes watering, and finally,
her shoulders slumped forward.

“What if I lose you?” Tears rolled down her
cheeks. “A mother should never live longer than her child.” Her
shoulders shook, and sobs broke from her chest like the harsh barks
of a grieving dog.

Ian pulled her into his arms, holding her
until the water stopped flowing and silence returned.

After a half an hour of packing, his mother
drove off, Buster sitting in the passenger seat. He’d just turned
toward the house where Brie waited, her face still a bit pale, but
a smile on her lips, when he heard a screech of brakes. He glanced
over his shoulder. Buster charged full speed for him. When the
large dog slammed into him and knocked him over, he felt oddly like
a character in a cartoon. Buster sat on his chest, licking his
face, but not making any move to correct the situation, as if he
simply couldn’t help himself. Ian shoved Buster to the side and
stood, looking at the rear of his mother’s truck backing up the
hill next to them.

He put Buster back into the seat next to his
mother and she rolled up the window. Buster whined, and she started
down the hill again. An instant later, Buster once again bounded in
his direction.

“I’m sorry.” His mom leaned out the car
window. “He pushed the control for the windows and jumped out
before I got going.”

Buster was a smart dog, but sometimes he
could be too clever for his own good.

“Why don’t I hang on to him, I have a feeling
he’s going to keep running any chance he gets. Maybe he’ll stay
with Paul.”

His mother’s eyes watered and her mouth
opened. He leaned in the window and she held him for a long time,
her arms tight around his chest.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Ian said as Brie’s soft
hand slid into his and he stepped back, grateful for the contact.
“I’ll keep him with me for now. Don’t worry. I’m sure I can get him
to stay with Paul. He likes Paul.”

“What self respecting dog would run from the
man who gives him treats?” Tears rolled down his mother’s cheeks,
but she smiled at him. “You call me every chance you get, boy-o.”
Then she drove off, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her
hand.

Ian waved, glad she hadn’t spoken the words
they were all thinking. He might die soon, but at least his mother
would be safe. Now if only he could figure out how to get Brie to
agree to go home, and himself to let her. He didn’t want her
hurt.

Brie stood silently as he lost himself in
thoughts of her safety, the frightened stranger, the painting, and
the state of his mental health. But could it be in his mind if his
mother had painted it?

And what had she painted? No clear antagonist
had presented itself in the painting, just random vague images.
Even the creature wasn’t the central figure. What if he were the
one who would cause the harm? What if the blood wasn’t his, but his
victims?

It was just Brie and him now—and his demons
of course. Real or imagined, they would find out soon. Whatever
happened, he felt sure it would only be days before this thing
found its resolution. Whether he’d be around to see it or not
seemed to be the question of the day.

<><><>

Ian dropped Brie at the local bookstore, then
picked up his i-com.

“Connect, Paul.”

The i-com rang. A click signaled the
answer.

“Hey, what’s up, buddy?”

Paul sounded like his usual cheerful self,
and Ian hoped, after seeing the boogeyman, almost running his
mother down, and then seeing his mother’s painting, he could make
himself sound the same way.

“Hey Paul, I made another date with Brie and
I wanted to ask if you would watch Buster for a while?”

“So, Mandy finally got one right, eh?”

Ian tried to laugh in a natural way, but the
sound squeaked out.

“Actually, yes. She’s interesting and funny
too. I like her. Anyhow, we’re going out for a while, what do you
say? Will you watch Buster?”

He hated to lie to his friend, even if it was
only a partial lie, but he needed someone to take Buster.

“Yeah, I’ll take him.”

After a few mumbled words Ian barely heard,
they said their goodbyes, and Ian shut off the i-com.

He checked the time. He’d have to pack
quickly and return for Brie.

Ian didn’t know if taking her with him was
smart or stupid. Was she safer with, or away from him? And was her
safety really his reason for keeping her near?

Maybe he
should
start a fight. He
should chase her off and make her leave, but he couldn’t bring
himself to be without her. In such a short time, he’d found so much
more than a friend, far more than a girlfriend, he’d found a soul
mate. Whenever he saw her, his spirit screamed reincarnation must
be true, because her soul was connected to his forever. And no
matter what, in the next life they would find each other again.