Final Life: Book One in the Transhuman Chronicles

CHAPTER TEN

  The cool and crisp air outside re-energized me. The sun shone bright. The cloudless sky an endless blue. If winters were like this, then life in Houston couldn’t be so bad, unless of course someone is trying to kill you.

  Infiniti chatted the whole way to her house about the winter break, just two weeks away. She and her mom had planned a ski trip to Breckenridge, Colorado. When she asked about my plans, I said we were staying home and doing nothing, but I thought something different. My plans were to stay alive by avoiding an evil energy being named Tavion, because if I died, the world would be doomed.

  And then it dawned on me. If I could tell anyone, it was Infiniti. Something like that probably wouldn’t even faze her. But it might put her in danger, so I couldn’t do that.

  As we approached her house, I glanced at Jan’s. Just as we passed, she came out. She wore a long black winter coat and held a wooden walking stick in her hand. She nodded at me, and then stood there, eyes glued on me.

  "Oh hey, there’s Jan," Infiniti said. "Hey, Jan!" she called out.

  I raised my hand in a silent hello, hoping Infiniti wouldn’t want to go over there. Luckily she didn’t.

  Once we were inside her house, Infiniti grabbed a box of Hostess cupcakes, two sodas, and flopped on the couch. Her house looked fine—completely normal. Infiniti had mentioned that they replaced some windows and blinds from the "tornado," but looking around you'd never know that she and I could’ve died here. My thoughts returned to the present when I noticed Infiniti's eyes were wide with excitement. I cringed, afraid of the crazy idea that must’ve just popped in her head.

  "Guess what!"

  "What?" I answered, eyeing her suspiciously.

  "My mom just told me last night that after our ski tip she’s going on a business trip! You know what that means! Par-tay!"

  She jumped up and blasted some music. "It’s going to be the shit!" She opened her laptop, and started creating the invitation. "You'll be there, right?"

  Would my parents find a way to remove my mark by then? Or maybe Tavion would find me first and kill me. Or maybe he'd come and kill everyone at the party. There were too many uncertainties in my life right now, but one thing was certain: Going to Infiniti’s party was probably a bad idea. I said loudly over the music, "Hey, Infiniti. You’re not gonna like this, but I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for me to come to your party."

  She stopped typing and gave me a wide-eyed, open-mouthed look. "Are you high?"

  "No. I just…you know…it’s not my thing."

  "Listen, I’m putting my foot down." She stood, raised her petite leg, and slammed her tiny foot on the floor. "You. Are. Going. Besides, it’ll be good for you. You know, have fun, and all that. Plus, Trent will be there! Dominique, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And when you were out with that concussion, he was so worried. He asked me if you were okay at least a hundred times."

  I thought of lying with Trent on his bed, and the way Farrell had popped in my head. What did it mean? What had happened between Farrell and me in our past lives? He said he didn’t remember, but there had to have been something between us. Why else would he be so strong a presence in my mind?

  Leave the past in the past, I thought. Concentrate on the present. Get through this alive and maybe I could be normal and date a normal guy like Trent.

  "Okay, I’ll come. But only for a little while."

  She put her arms around me and gave me a hug before going back to her laptop. "This will be good for you, Dominique. I know it."

  I stayed at Infiniti’s until dark. We had a good time laughing and chatting about everything, especially the party. She even told me that Veronica and Billy had gotten so serious that she hardly saw Veronica anymore, which, in my opinion was a good thing. But of course, I didn’t say that.

  At around nine or so, I left. It was nice getting away from my worries. But now, as I walked home in the cold, anxiety set in. My fingers twisted my hair. My mind wondered about what else might be in store for me.

  "Dominique?"

  I jumped out of my skin and almost called out for Farrell when I saw Jan on the other side of the street. Her dark coat blended in with the night. She came out halfway into the street, and I did the same. "I’ve got some hot water on the stove," she said. "Care to come in for some tea?"

  I tried hard to think of a way to say no, but was never good at making excuses. "Um, well—"

  "I don’t get many visitors, other than your friend Infiniti, and I’d hate to waste some delicious tea I just purchased. Plus, it’ll warm you up."

  Great, she was laying the guilt on me. How could I say no? And seriously, how dangerous could she be with Farrell down street and my shield reinforced? "Okay, sure. But I can’t be long."

  "Good, good," she said, "come." She waved me over and I followed her into the house and to the kitchen table. "Have a seat, my dear. I’ll check the water."

  "Thank you, Jan."

  I glanced around the kitchen while she busied herself at the stove. The strong vanilla scent from my first visit still filled the house. I searched for a candle, but couldn’t find one. My eyes settled on the glass chandelier over her table. Several interesting objects hung from it: a spoon, a fork, some glass beads, ornaments, and several unusual pieces of metal. There was even a white feather. I eyed it, and shuddered. It looked exactly like the feather from my vision, the one I had in my hand that fell to the ground.

  I almost scooted away from the table, ready to leave, when Jan returned with crackers.

  "So Dominique," she said. "Do you have plans for the winter break?"

  "Uh, well," I concentrated on her face, intentionally avoiding the feather, "no, not really," I folded and unfolded my hands on my lap under the table. "Do you?"

  "Yes, I’ll be visiting my hometown in Arizona." She motioned toward the crackers. "I wish I had more food to offer, but I haven’t been to the store in a few days."

  "No, this is perfect." I grabbed a cracker even though my stomach had tied in knots. Stale flakes filled my mouth, and I swallowed them down with a big gulp.

  The teapot started to whistle. Jan got up, took the pot off the stove, and poured the hot water into two dainty rose-colored teacups. She brought them over to the table, along with an array of tea bags. I picked one, and so did she, and silence hovered over us while we dunked our bags. Trying to avoid the chandelier, I studied her hands. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between them and the teacups. The teacups were small and dainty while her hands were big and strong.

  "Dominique, do you want to know how I ended up here in Houston?"

  Warm minty tea slid down my throat, and calmed me a little. "Sure," I said, my hands relaxing a bit on my lap.

  "Before moving here, I lived in a small town: Oracle, Arizona. I was born and raised there. I loved everything about it—the rustic atmosphere, the serenity, the calmness." She paused, no doubt recalling images of her hometown. "I worked as an artist, doing stitchery for the locals. I didn’t make much, but I enjoyed my work. Plus, the flexibility allowed me to pursue…other interests."

  Her deep, vibrating voice held me captive. "One day, about a year ago, and right before I moved here to Houston, I saw a small elementary school near my neighborhood. I must’ve driven by that school hundreds of times, but I hadn’t noticed it before. Something about the school spoke to me, so I decided to stop and go in. I introduced myself to the school administrator and asked if I could volunteer to read to the younger grades. They were happy to have me, and even scheduled me to come back and read the next day to the kindergarten class. I don’t have any children of my own, and so I thought that maybe my maternal instincts were leading me there… and I always follow my instincts."

  She stopped for a moment to sip tea, and so did I. My eyes darted up to the feather for a second, just to see if it was still there, and it was. My mind started coming up with excuses for why I had to leave, but nothing came out.

  "The next day, I went to th
e school as assigned. The teachers were ready for me and even picked out the books for me to read. I couldn’t tell you what the books were about, but I can tell you about the child I met that day—the child that led me here."

  She continued, "She was small for her age and stayed at the back of the room, almost separated from her classmates. When I walked in, her gaze glued on me immediately, and remained fixed on me my entire visit. She wore a simple, yet elegant, white dress—almost like an Easter dress. Her long, white hair flowed down to her back, and her green eyes sparkled bright. She had pale skin, and I thought she might be sick."

  Jan took another sip. "After reading a few books, I went to her and introduced myself. She told me her name was Abigail. I can almost hear her now. Her voice sounded steady and clear, not quite matching her somewhat frail exterior. It was strange, yet at the same time, so natural. It’s hard to explain."

  Jan’s eyes darted up for a moment and lingered there, as if lost in her memory of that day. I followed her line of sight and saw that her eyes had landed on the feather. She brought her eyes back to me, and my body tensed.

  "We sat there, Abigail and I, surrounded by silence for a while. Then, she said the strangest thing. She asked me why I didn’t live in Houston, Texas. Her question stunned me. After a moment, I told her that I didn’t know I was supposed to be in Houston. Do you know what she said then?"

  I shook my head, completely engrossed in her story, words escaping my lips.

  "She said, you are." Jan stopped and stared at me for a moment. "After a while, Abigail glanced over my shoulder, as if looking at someone. I turned to see who it was, but I didn’t see anyone. When I turned back around, Abigail was gone. I figured she had gone to the restroom, but I couldn’t wait for her return since I had another appointment that day. And so I left. But her words stayed with me all day—and her face."

  Again, Jan stopped to sip her tea. Again, I followed.

  "I never wanted to move, never conceived of leaving Oracle, but Abigail's words stayed with me for days, compelling me to listen. And now, I’m here."

  My stomach tightened while I clasped my hands together again. Jan took another sip of her tea, but I couldn’t. Instead, I stared at my cup, trying to figure out what to say. I cleared my throat. "So what happened to Abigail?" A part of me wanted to know, but another part of me was afraid to know.

  "I went back to the school the next week, back to the kindergarten class to read again. I looked for Abigail, but didn’t see her anywhere. After I did my readings, I asked the teacher about Abigail, curious about her whereabouts. The teacher explained to me that there was no child named Abigail in the class. In fact, she said there wasn’t a child named Abigail in the entire school."

  I dropped my cup, and it shattered on the floor.

  "Oh, dear, I’ve gone and frightened you," Jan said.

  I bent down to clean up my mess. "No, it’s okay. Your story just…caught me off guard."

  Jan went to the kitchen sink, grabbed a wet cloth, and knelt beside me. Tension grew around us while we both worked to clean the mess.

  "Dominique," she said. "I’m here to help you." She extended her hand and squeezed my arm with a reassuring grip. "Don’t be scared."

  "I’m not scared," I lied. "I just don’t know why you wanted to tell me that story."

  I removed my arm from her grasp. Her eyes scanned my face. "Well, it’s you, Dominique. You’re the reason I moved to Houston. I’m sure of it."

  My breathing stilled, my heart almost came to a complete stop. I looked at the chandelier, checking for the feather, but it was gone.

  Farrell, I need you.

  A loud pounding at the door jarred the house. "Open up! Dominique? Are you in there?"

  "Oh, my, seems there’s someone here for you," Jan said in a perfectly calm voice, then called out, "Yes! We’re coming!"

  Farrell…he heard me and he came.

  Jan opened the door just as Farrell had raised his fist, about to pound the door again. His face tensed, his brow furrowed. He immediately came to my side and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  "Dominique, are you okay?"

  "Yes, I’m okay. This is Jan Kelly. We were just having some tea." My voice sounded shaky, even though I tried my best to keep it steady.

  "Why, hello there," Jan said. "So you’re Dominique’s…friend."

  "Yes, I am. Nice to meet you. I’m Farrell Walker." Farrell extended his hand for a shake.

  Although the burn on his arms from Tavion had almost completely healed, the lighting from above landed in such a way that the white streaks stood out. Jan eyed them, and then hesitantly reached out, almost afraid to touch him. He noticed her reluctance and let his hand fall down.

  "I’m here to get Dominique," he said. "It’s getting late."

  The quiet room filled with the booming gong of a clock. I grabbed Farrell's arm, scared and startled. And then I saw, from where we stood by the front door, the picture of the little girl that hung in the living room. The long white hair, white dress, green eyes. It was Abigail. I just knew it. And she was staring right at me.

  Jan spoke. "Well, you better get along then. It was nice to meet you, Farrell. And thank you for the company, Dominique."

  Jan kept the door open and watched while Farrell and I walked to the sidewalk. "Oh, Dominique, can you come back here for a moment?"

  I stopped dead in my tracks. Should I go back? Or just keep walking? Farrell frowned and shook his head ever so slightly. He didn’t want me to go back, but something in Jan’s voice compelled me. "Hold on," I whispered to him.

  Instead of going to the front door, I stopped midway. The worry lines around Jan’s face deepened, or maybe it was just the lighting from the porch. "Dominique, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you, okay?"

  Everything about Jan freaked me out. The soul reading, the story of Abigail, the way she thought she had moved here because of me, the feather hanging from her chandelier that had disappeared. But what if she was right? What if she could help me?

  "I’m fine," I said.