Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1) (6 page)

Cassondra
swept through the doorway, and Mateusz followed, shutting the door behind them.

Lena

Z
ander and I spent the whole night
at work giving shy looks and touching hands every time we passed each other
behind the concession counter. Our new relationship felt like the corny ending
of a movie–the same hazy movie I had been in for the last three months.

But his
eyes held tension every time he thought I wasn't looking. Maybe he still had
reservations about my sanity after Tuesday night's chair incident. He never
mentioned it, but who wouldn't be worried their new girlfriend might be a
basket case?

At
midnight, we sat in his car in front of my trailer, his engine off and radio
on. He usually kept the motor going, like being in the park too long might rub
off on him, make him one of us. New Zander had me spinning.

He didn't
ask to come in again–thank God–and I didn't mention it because Dad was more
than likely as lit as a Christmas tree. Instead, he pulled me in for a kiss.
This time there was no tentativeness, his scent and warmth creating a stronger
brain fuzz than usual.

But not
one spark. Damn.

He traced
my lower lip with his thumb. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to
kiss you?"

"Don't
know. Three months?"

He
grinned. "Somethin' like that." He gave me another light kiss. "I'll
see you Monday, bright and early, okay?"

"Not
tomorrow?"

"No."
Strain tightened the skin around his eyes. "Lena…I–ah, shit. Listen, I
need you to know whatever happens, no matter what, I'll be right here."

Uh,
okay?

I
reached for the door handle. "Yeah sure, same here. Monday, then?"

"Count
on it." He gave me a crooked grin that did nothing to hide his tension.

I stayed
outside until his taillights disappeared, along with the mental cloud a dose of
Zander heroin always triggered.

∞ ∞ ∞

Not even
the sight of Dad changed my mood. Bonus, he had a couple buddies over to keep
him company, which helped divert his attention from me and Mom, who followed me
into my bedroom.

She
slept with me on these nights. The extra body heat helped keep me warm on the
freezing mattress, and Mom wouldn't have to deal with perverted comments when
the drinking got real serious. Good deal, I'd say.

"So...you
want to tell me what put that smile on your face?" She snuggled up close,
like we were sisters.

"Zander."

"Oh?
Did he confess his undying love?" She giggled like a teenager.

"Lame,
Mom." I pulled the covers over my mouth to hide the grin stretching my
face. "But yeah, you could say that."

"It's
about time."

"Everything's
going right, you know?" I moved to hug her. "And I'd say we deserve
it."

So,
Zander wasn't
Him
. Who cared? He was cute and funny, and using his word–real.

∞ ∞ ∞

I awoke
early and laced up my brand new Nikes. Leaving Mom to sleep, I picked my way
through the snoring bodies littering the living room floor. The smell of sweat
and dope filled the space to the point I swore the warriors in the pictures
were holding their noses.

I ran
all morning. Through town, all the way to school, around the track a few times,
and walked back home.

The run
helped calm me enough to think. The main nagging gripe flowing through my head
happened to be my new boyfriend. Why hadn't Zander brought up the episode at
the theater? Jake did. A lot. Any normal person would've talked about what
happened to death. Not Zander. He decided we should start dating. And that
fuzz? I'm pretty sure it clogged my brain's ability to think rationally. Oh,
and
Him
showed up again last night.

I'll
find you.

Too
late, buddy.

But even
though I broke up with dream guy, my new boyfriend had a few questions to
answer. Questions I really didn't want to ask. Honestly, New Zander made me
nervous.

When I
walked into the house, Dad's friends were gone. Mom sat in her chair looking at
the door in a kind of panic. Before I said anything, an inhale revealed the
rich smell of bacon. I nodded toward the kitchen, and all she gave was a
shoulder shrug in response.

Then I
heard Dad singing an Elvis song I recognized from when I was a girl, when
things weren't so bad.

When Dad
didn't drink so much.

When he
kept his hands to himself.

I gave
Mom the signal to stay put and stepped toward the kitchen. Dad stood by the
stove, flipping bacon with a fork, dancing and singing to his idol.

Maybe
this was a hallucination brought on by the after-effects of Zander heroin. Or
maybe I was still spiraling toward crazy town.
Something
weird was going
on because what I saw wasn't normal.

He
looked up from his bacon and the left corner of his mouth lifted. Alcohol and
drugs aged him beyond his forty-one years and his skin had a yellow pallor. His
hair, messy but freshly washed, was a lighter shade of brown than mine. He'd
even shaved, though small pieces of toilet paper stuck to the places where he
nicked his cheeks. "Hey, peanut. Hungry?"

"Ah...I...I..."

"You
act like you never seen your old man cook breakfast."

What?

He gave
the bacon another turn before guiding me to his chair. "Sit, relax."

Dad
danced back into the kitchen, turning the radio up louder when "You Ain't
Nothin' but a Hound Dog" came on.

"What's
going on?" I hated how my stomach betrayed me, growling as bacon smells
assaulted my nose.

"I
have no idea. He woke me up, kissed my cheek. Said he felt like making
breakfast." Fear tinted the edges of her eyes. "Do you think he
knows?"

He kept
singing along with Elvis, the music thankfully loud enough to cover our voices.
His off-key crooning stopped for a second as he swore when an apparent splatter
of grease hit him.

"I
don't know how he'd find out." I made an effort to whisper, not completely
trusting Elvis to hide our conversation. "Only Jake and Wilma know."
I hesitated. "And Zander."

"What
do you think it is, then?"

I
shrugged as Dad carried two heaping plates of food into the living room. The
pancakes already had syrup drizzled on them. "Here you go, girlies."

We each
took a plate, balancing them on our laps. I sniffed it to make sure nothing
smelled off, like rat poison or something. Not that I'd know what that smelled
like.

"Well,
go on. Eat." He stood there, anticipation lighting his sunken eyes, until
we started eating. We nodded our approval, and he grunted with satisfaction,
going back into the kitchen.

After we
ate, I grabbed Mom's plate and went to confront him. He stood at the sink,
washing the dishes.

"Dad?"

He kept
scrubbing. "Yeah, peanut?"

That
nickname hadn't left his mouth since I was five. "You okay?"

"Better
than okay. Better than I've been in years."

"It's
just...you haven't made breakfast in forever."

He
stopped washing dishes and came toward me.

My
flinch wasn't voluntary, but he didn't seem to notice it.

"Had
an awakening last night, baby. A real eye-opener."

"I
don't understand." I tried not to cringe when he put his hands on my upper
arms, but old habits and all that.

"A
voice...God's voice spoke in my dreams last night. It said, 'you better get
your house in order before it falls down around you.' Can you believe it? He
spoke to me.
To me."

Hairs on
the back of my neck jumped to attention.

He
continued as if he couldn't feel my arms shaking. "The Lord said I needed
to sober up and fight for what's mine, said I was about to lose it–everything."
Dad waved a hand through the air, indicating his mass fortune of a rundown
trailer and rotting paneled walls.

My lips
went numb. "Dad...where did you hear that?"

"Well,
I told you. God."

Terror
as real as the sweat dripping down my back suffocated me; the almost tangible
feeling slithered through the tiny kitchen. "Are you...What're you gonna
do?"

His
smile showed his rotting eyetooth. "Why, I'm going to take care of my
girls, peanut." He pulled me into his arms. "I'd do anything to make
sure I don't lose what's mine."

Vomit
threatened to escape, the bacon sitting hot and heavy. I wanted to push him
away, but feared he'd put me on the ground if I did. My arms stayed at my
sides, though. To touch him...disgusting.

Leaving
just got harder.

Lena

D
ad mapped out a plan. He would stop
drinking. Mom would have dinner on the table every night and keep a clean house–top
two things on his mom-to-do list. I would stop hanging out with Zander after
school, come home on the bus every day, skip track season this year. We had to
fix our family, he said.

All I
heard was no work, no money, and no scholarship.

No way
was that gonna happen.

Claiming
his spiritual awakening exhausted him, he released us to take a nap. As soon as
his bedroom door shut, I grabbed Mom's hand and stalked to my room, leaving the
door open a crack.

"What're
we going to do?" Fear made her voice loud and shrill.

I peeked
through the crack before guiding her to the edge of the bed. "Shh, keep
your voice down, okay? Everything's gonna be fine." I didn't believe it for
a second. "I'm going to Jake's, tell him we need to move in now."

"Jesus,
what the hell's going on?" Her voice was still shaky, but the hysteria
calmed a few decibels at the mention of Jake's name.

"Don't
know and don't care. If he wakes up, just tell him I went for another run."

Determination
settled on Mom's face. "Don't be too long. He'll get suspicious."

"I
won't." I kissed her cheek then went to pop out the window screen.

∞ ∞ ∞

An hour
later, the plan was set. It wouldn't go down until the end of the week, and so
having to fake family togetherness was a must–didn't want the bastard to get
curious.

I inched
open the front door, trying not to make any noise.

The
effort wasn't necessary.

Dad
glanced up from kissing Mom's neck–his usual rank breath the reason for her
wrinkled nose and green cheeks, no doubt–and shot me a yellow-toothed grin. "How
was the run?"

I looked
at Mom, who kept her eyes focused on mine. "Ah, hi, yeah, it was good."

"You're
gonna have to cut back on that, too, until we get this house in order."
Those words had my skin prickling.

"Yeah,
sure." I gave Mom a nod. "I'm kind of hungry."

"Good
idea, peanut." He let Mom get up. "Why don't you make us something
nice, Jacie, to celebrate?" He slapped her butt and went to the front
door. His hands shook, and a line of sweat traced the middle of his old T-shirt–side
effects of a raging alcoholic going cold turkey. "I'm gonna sit outside,
get some fresh air."

After an
air kiss, he went out on the cement blocks. The front door stayed open. He
rocked back and forth with his head resting on arms folded across his knees.

Sobriety
and Dad weren't pals.

∞ ∞ ∞

We made
sloppy joes and macaroni and cheese–the closest thing we had to a nice dinner.
Our barren cupboards and empty fridge hadn't caught up with Dad's new outlook.
In a few days, we wouldn't have to worry about it. He could starve for all I
cared.

In a
rushed whisper, I explained the plan. Some of the things we had to do, her
having to play devoted wife being the major negative, would be hard. But Mom
was a trooper. "I've been faking it for years," she said. "A few
more days won't hurt."

Once we
cleaned up dinner, the three of us settled in the living room. Dad held Mom in
his seat, and I sat in hers. After two hours of watching
M*A*S*H
reruns
off the cable he'd stolen from our neighbor's feed, he'd had enough family
time.

"I'm
going to bed." He wobbled to his feet and pushed Mom from his lap. "Come
on, Jacie. Let's go."

Fear
clamped around Mom's face, but she made an effort to suppress it, lifting her
chin. "Okay, let me say goodnight."

His
right hand curled into a fist. "Hurry up. I'd like to remember what it's
like going to bed with my wife."

Like it
was
her
fault he'd spent the last twelve years in a drunken, abusive
stupor…

He went
into their room as Mom pulled me up, hugging me close.

"Just
five more days," I said.

She
kissed my cheek. "Piece of cake."

One last
squeeze and reluctant steps took her to the bedroom door. With a sigh shaking
her thin body, she disappeared through the entry.

Had to
give her credit, going in there would've been my hard limit.

∞ ∞ ∞

The heat
from a shower relaxed me while I ran through the plan. We'd wait until Friday.
I'd go to school as usual, and Jake would pick Mom up at the trailer park entrance
at three. With a little help from sleeping pills Jake was gonna get, and a lot
of luck, Dad would be passed out. Mom only had to make lunch–and crush them
into his soup.

I'd
bring our bags in the mornings, with Jake meeting me in the school parking lot
to pick them up. In the meantime, Jake would be busy putting extra locks on the
door and adding locks to the windows of the apartment. After a day or two, Mom
would file a restraining order.

I also promised
Jake the covert operation would stay between the three of us–no Zander
involvement.

The cold
sneaking into the shower jogged me back to reality. Hopefully, this reality
would only last until Friday.

After a
quick towel-dry, I went through the usual bed-prepping routine.

Blankets
in place and alarm set.

I curled
into the usual position and tried to force
Him's
image into my mind. New
Zander might be my boyfriend–still weird saying that–but he didn't have the
same effect on my nerves like dream guy.
Him
always made me feel safe
when life got too overwhelming. He'd–

Time
to leave.

Oh, no…

Fear
made me dizzy as the bed began to pitch and roll. Water slapping rubber filled
the room as massive waves rocked my body, trapping me on the bed. Damp hair
knotted around my face and neck. I cleared some of the tangled barrier from my
mouth and inhaled until my lungs were full.

As quickly
as the bed began to move, it stopped, the bed going completely still.

Shock
glued me to the mattress while I gulped in air, eyes eating up the ceiling. "What
the hell?"

Before I
could explain anything away, the rubber mattress expanded and lifted, circling
my waist, my chest, wrapping around my mouth.

Struggling
made the hold tighter as I sank deeper. The smell of the old rubber pressed
into my nose, making me choke on vomit. Water silenced everything while it
filled my ears and mouth, the bed absorbing me. The ceiling hovered above, the
usual gray rubber mattress now clear.

I
pounded on the top, the freezing water slowing my strength. My lungs wanted to
burst, but I urged them to hold on a while longer as I swam what felt like
yards from one end to the other searching for a weak spot. When I found the
mattress plug, I pushed on it until it popped. A small pocket opened around the
valve, and I held my mouth up to it. Stingy gulps of stale air eased the burn
in my chest.

This
isn't happening!

A tug on
my leg yanked me away from the precious air before I could get enough. My body
sped downward, the top of the bed fading and disappearing. Pressure built in my
ears and pressed on my chest. The deeper I went, the more desperate I became. I
kicked at the hold, feeling nothing solid even though whatever it was dug into
my ankle.

My body
almost imploded under the pressure, but I finally surfaced in a calm, warm river
no deeper than three feet. Stunned, I looked around, pushing hair out of my
eyes.

Soft
sounds of running water caught my attention. I turned to confront it, losing my
balance for a second before planting my feet on the smooth riverbed.

A
waterfall, a hundred feet high, hid between jagged cliffs. Water didn't come
crashing on the rocks, though. It glided over them, caressed them, like a slow
trickle tapping the basin of a sink. The water was an odd color, too,
fluorescent blue but as translucent as glass.

The
river separated mossy banks with forests as thick as a state park. Sounds of
animals bounced off the bright leaves and sturdy trunks. The same type of frantic
sounds I'd heard during a sixth grade field trip to the Philly zoo right before
a thunderstorm ripped through. Wherever I was, industrialization hadn't reached
it yet.

The
brilliance terrified me. Once I soaked it in, I screamed louder than the noises
haunting the woods.

"Hello?"
I turned in a full circle, afraid to leave the water. "Is anyone there?"

The
heightening sounds of animals answered.

Raising
my voice higher, I tried again. "Help me, somebody!"

No
humans hollered back, just the shrill calls from those animals. God, if the
creatures were as exaggerated as the stream, the trees... "Help!"

I jumped
at a sensation brushing against my shins and glanced down to see what the water
hid. Miniature elephants traced their stubby trunks up and down my legs, and
like fingers of a jellyfish, they gave light zaps. Their plump bodies were
bright white, contrasting with the fluorescent blue of their home.

"You've
got to be shitting me." The need to kick them warred with the urge to pet
them. Probably better to do neither.

I went
to the bank, dodging the rest of the weird crap swimming in the river. Climbing
through all that damn nature wasn't easy, especially without shoes and a
sweatshirt heavy with water. After I managed to slip into the copse of trees, I
pulled off my sweatshirt, hanging it on a tree branch.

Soaking
hair and drenched clothes should've left me shivering, but the dense humidity
covering the terrain was miserable in a more sticky, August heat way. I wrung
out the bottom of my T-shirt, my mind racing.

This…place,
so freaking unbelievable. The tree trunks were the same hue as dark chocolate,
and the leaves were a green like those dumb posters of Irish fields tacked on Mrs.
Terra's classroom walls.

Ah,
now I got it…
My mind
finally broke.

I
twisted the skin on my forearm, flinching from the pain, and touched the moss
to my face, inhaling its earthy scent.

Sonofabitch…

Everything
felt real, smelled real...my fear was real. All this
real
crap had a
panic bubble building in my gut.

I
scanned the horizon, hoping to gauge the time. But the sky didn't help. It was
just a solid sheet of deep purple. Hmm, that explained why everything had a
violet tint.

Whatever.
I needed to get the hell out of here. All those survival shows said to follow
the river when searching for a way out of the woods. Sounded good enough to me.

The
calmness of the water, regardless of the waterfall dumping quiet gallons every
second, had the hairs on my neck standing at attention. But I erased any
radical thoughts–or overly rational ones–and picked through the trees.

Odd,
fur-covered fish scampered out of my way. Orange snake-like creatures walking
on four legs kept pace before getting bored and leaving. None of them tried to bite
or anything. So after they scared the piss out of me, I kept going, ignoring
them.

The
forest didn't change at all, a kind of unnatural symmetry dominating. Once I
figured out the pattern, I had no trouble evading scratching limbs and prickly
bushes. I yelled every so often, at first to relieve the panic then because I
had nothing better to do.

The more
I walked, the more I liked the peace, the vivid colors, even the strange
creatures brave enough to confront me. This place was kind of awesome, actually.
Bright, oversized flowers bloomed in the pockets between the symmetric trees
and bushes. The scent…I wished I could bottle it. It was so clean, like flowers
mingling with the gritty soil. The heat began to feel nice, too. Maybe I wouldn't
have to leave.