Everyone is still staring at me. Niles is kneeling on the ground, sweeping some of the glass shards into his hand but I don't care. I don't care that Abby's case is lost forever, because he is here.
Sloan is at the Station.
The Story Continues in Book 2…
Book 2 of The Station Series
DYING to REMEMBER
“What…what…are you doing here?”
My whispered words drift across the hall as Sloan and I stare at each other. My senses become heightened but at the same time, restricting. I'm aware that others are around me, because I can hear the steady rhythm of their breathing. The stale inhales and exhales of startled Intake Specialists and confused Volunteers echo up and down the walls. But I can't focus on anyone, not enough to identify faces. All I really see is Sloan.
“Why are you here?” I ask again.
“Should we go somewhere private, Abbott?”
Carlson ignores me completely, aiming his question at the man kneeling beside me. I'm suddenly aware that Niles is at my feet, quietly picking up the shattered remains of Abby's glass card. But I won't take my eyes off of him. Not yet. Not until someone tells me what is going on.
Sloan takes two steps toward me, his face a myriad of confused expressions. Carlson reaches out to stop him but his hand is easily shrugged off the taller man's arm as he continues to move closer to me, narrowing the gap between us quickly.
“I…I know your voice,” he stammers. The blue of his eyes is electrifying. Seeing him in person is just unreal.
“What?” Niles and I both speak the word at the same time.
“I know you. Don't I?” Sloan turns to look at Carlson, who is just as confused as the rest of us.
Forgetting the mess on the floor, Niles stands quickly and tugs on my arm, pulling me with him across the hall and through the first available door. Carlson doesn't need to tell Sloan to follow, since our eyes hardly break their connection as I'm rushed by him. How did you get here…what happened?
As I pass through the doorway, I'm finally forced to look ahead of me. Niles has pulled me into another smaller hallway with several doors that line the walls. I have no idea what rooms lie beyond them. The walls match the milky white color of the floor and ceiling and I lean against the smooth surface of the nearest wall, feeling the coolness of the glass on my skin as Sloan is rushed into the room by Carlson.
Struggling to regulate my breathing, I watch as Niles comes to a stop a few feet away and stares at Sloan as he shuffles into the small hallway, waiting quietly for Carlson to close the door. Once he does, it seems the men all begin to talk at once. I try to tune out everyone but Sloan. I hear only bits and pieces of what he says.
“I don't understand…explain this to me like I'm five…what the hell is this place…who is she?”
It's the last question that slaps me out of my shocked semi-aware state. I push off the wall, moving slowly toward the three men who are all now staring at me with different expressions. Niles looks worried, Carlson simply looks angry and Sloan…Sloan wants answers. His blue eyes are glowing with pain and confusion. I remember the day I awoke at the Station. How lost I felt not knowing where I was, or what this place did. Sloan was there now, in that moment.
While Carlson folds his arms over his clipboard and hugs it to his chest again, Niles clears his throat as I approach. Apprehensively, Sloan shifts on his feet, watching me until I stop within arms' reach and stick out my hand.
“Hi Sloan, I'm Piper,” I say in a voice as confidant as I can manage.
“Piper.” He blinks and then takes my hand, letting me slowly pump it. The heat from his skin radiates through mine and the shock of actually touching him sends a slow-dancing shiver up my spine. He doesn't let go, not right away.
“Piper Willow. Is that your name?”
“That's me,” I say with a faint smile, attempting to stop the shake in my voice.
“I remember you,” he says.
My mouth falls open slightly and I stare between him and Niles. “Remember me? We've never met before today, Sloan,” I say.
“But I heard you; your voice. I know it was you.”
He looks me up and down, as if placing my body with my voice. For the umpteenth time I hate what I'm wearing. Meeting Sloan in my pajamas is beyond embarrassing; especially when he looks amazing in his faded jeans and heather grey t-shirt. And he's barefoot. He has great feet. I tug at the hem of my top, trying to stretch out the loose tank so that it covers more of my hips.
“Son, what do you mean, you heard Piper's voice?” Niles asks.
“Uh. I don't know how to explain it, but I know her,” he says as he turns to face me again. “I know you.”
“Carlson, have you had a chance to explain Volunteering to Sloan?”
“Abbott, the boy was just on his way to Orientation. He doesn't know nothing about nothing, yet,” Carlson says with a sharp edge of irritation coating his voice.
I notice Niles glaring at Carlson, who wisely bows his head a bit before staring down at the floor. He uses his clipboard as a shield by raising it to just below his chin. The man annoys me tremendously. Spending an eternity with Carlson might just kill me for the second time.
“Well,” Niles says to no one in particular, “…this is definitely not something I can handle alone. I'll be right back. The three of you, please stay here.”
When Niles leaves it's as if all the oxygen in the room is sucked out with him. Carlson is still staring at the floor, holding on to his trusted metal 'to-do' list as if someone wants to steal it from him. And Sloan and I exchange several awkward glances at each other before we both find different walls to lean on. I still want answers; the first being…what is he doing here?
Just as I'm afraid I might scream into the suffocating silence of the narrow hallway, the door opens again and in steps Edith. This is only the second time I've seen her and she's just as striking. Her big bangs shift around her face as she enters the room with a tight smile. Carlson looks about nervously while Sloan stares at her…most likely curious as to why she's dressed in a baby-doll nightgown in the middle of the day.
Oh Sloan, I didn't want this for you.
“So,” she looks from me to Sloan as she talks, “I see we have a bit of a unique situation on our hands.”
Unique? I'm not the first Volunteer to meet their Assignment. What's unique about that?
“Mr. Nash, my name is Edith Ray. Welcome to the Station.” She smiles at him while they shake hands.
“Hi. I'm a little lost here,” Sloan admits.
“Of course, I understand, I do. But I have to ask you something before you continue on to your Orientation, Mr. Nash. If you don't mind?”
He shakes his head so she continues, “Mr. Abbott has informed me that you mentioned knowing Miss Willow, knowing her voice. What did you mean?”
He blinks at her several times. “Uh, I don't know why, but I recognize her voice from…before. And she told me her name. I don't know how, exactly, I just heard her. I'd know her voice anywhere.”
I feel my cheeks heat up like a furnace. Don't look at me, please don't look at me. Of course when I glance up from staring at my big toes, he's watching me intently. Great.
“Before you came here, the two of you did not know each other,” Edith says quietly, and both Sloan and I nod in agreement before she continues, “I'm not sure I've ever heard of an Assignment being able to not only remember but identify his Volunteer by voice. I'll have to discuss this with the others. Piper,” she turns to face me, “I need you to refrain from volunteer work until we get this all sorted out, okay?”
“Okay. But, what should I do?” The coolness from the floor shoots up my legs as my knees nervously knock together.
“Mr. Abbott will find something for you to do, I'm sure. Right, Niles?” She smiles sweetly at him and it's clear to me they are closer than friends.
“Yes, Edith. I will have her shadow me until we find a job for her,” he answers, matching her smi
le with a flash of white teeth.
Job?
“As for you, Mr. Nash, you really must continue on to your Orientation. Your questions are best answered there. Shall I accompany you and Mr. Smith?” She gestures with her delicate hand for them to follow her out of the room.
Sloan sends me one more inquisitive look before disappearing into the main hallway, instantly getting lost in the rush of busy Station dwellers. My legs finally give out and I slump against the wall, sliding down it to the floor, where I intend on staying until I see a flying pig or Hell itself, frozen over.
“Piper?”
I ignore Niles. I want to ignore everything. I'm stubbornly waiting for the flying pig.
“Piper. I'm just as confused as you are right now, but you have to talk to someone. The Station doesn't work well if we don't all work together,” he says gently. With a heavy sigh, he first squats and then sits down beside me. The pleats of his pants spread out as he hooks one leg over the other and loosely folds his hands in his lap.
“I can wait,” he says calmly.
You'll be here all day. Oh, but wait, we don't HAVE days or nights at the Station. So maybe you'll be here forever. The thought depresses me. Where's a flying pig when you need one??
“What am I supposed to do now, Niles?” I finally break the silence.
“Honestly, Piper, I'm not sure. But we will get it all figured out. Don’t worry; Edith knows what she is doing,” he says as he pats my bent knee.
As I fold my legs up higher into my chest so that I can rest my chin on them, I'm contemplating the point of my existence, dying to remember a time when things were so much simpler when the door bursts open and Mallory throws herself ungraciously into our little hall and stumbles over to my feet.
“Piper! I've been looking for you everywhere! I ran into Carlson in the hallway, which is great because I really need to talk to you,” she says, nearly out of breath.
“Mallory, if it's bad news, I can't handle it right now.” I cover my face with both hands so I don't have to look at her perfectly shaped, thin legs standing just inches away from my own gangly ones.
“Piper,” she leans down so she her mouth is just beside my ear, “Piper, it's about Ryan Burke.” I scramble off the cold floor so fast that I startle Niles. Mallory has just delivered my flying pig.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Before I begin to thank the people that helped make this book possible, I'd like to take a moment to bring up the subject matter in this story that may have been intense for some readers. To start, I'd like to say that this book is not meant to glorify suicide in any way. If you or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please contact your health care professional or another person you trust to talk to TODAY. If you are considering harming yourself in any way, there are people and professionals that can help you. You are not alone. Ever.
If you or someone you know has been the victim of sexual violence, you can find help here on https://www.rainn.org/or you can call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE. Again, you are not alone.
This book would not have been possible without the ongoing support of family and friends. So now I'd like to take the time to thank you all personally!
Shane, Rory and Foxx - you give me encouragement and hope. This book, the one before and anything in the future would not be possible without your daily support and love. Thank you for being patient and for the hugs.
To my extended family: Mom, I love you, I am who I am because of you. Thank you for everything! Teresa…you aren't here today but I hope wherever you are, you know how much you have meant to me over the years and how much you meant to me while I was writing this book. You were my personal cheerleader and I miss you every day. I'll never forget your laugh. Mom, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins - last year was a tough one for all of us but we made it through - love you all. Grandma Dawson, you are an amazing woman. I love you and I hope I've made you proud. To my wonderful in-laws - Rick and Lynda…Shane and I would not be where we are today without your ongoing support and love, thank you.
To my good friends: Debbie Rogers, Irene Aranda, Kerry Bigelow, Steph Perry-Aguirre, Hector Aguirre, Gladys Selfridge, Sean Selfridge, Jennifer Peterson, Patty Calles, Jessica Garner and Melinda Lenard…I love you all equally, thank you for your friendship and for listening to my writing rants and raves.
Thank you to my Editing Team: Jennifer Peterson and Tracy Clark - thank you so much for your help and dedication!
The Cover Art for this book was done by the amazing Debbie Rogers - thank you friend!
Thank you Book Club ladies for keeping me reading even though I'm busy writing! A thank you has to go out to my new friends on Facebook & Twitter. You all KNOW who you are but I have to give a special shout out to the ladies that make me laugh…every day. My fellow writer friends: Miranda Stork, Karli Rush and Tara Wood. The Man Candy has kept me going. Truth.
For the very special people who have read this book and might have read the first one - THANK YOU ALL. This is for you guys. HUGS!
ABOUT the AUTHOR
Trish was born and mostly raised in San Diego, California where she lives now with her family and pets. She's been writing short stories and poetry since high school and began her first book, 'I Hope You Find Me' in December of 2011. When Trish isn't writing, she's homeschooling her amazing daughter and mildly Autistic son, reading whatever she can get her hands on, or enjoying the Southern California sun. As a strict Vegetarian, Trish holds a special place in her heart for animal rights and dashes into the backyard weekly to rescue lizards and mice from Zoey, the dog.
BOOKS and COLLABORATIONS
I HOPE YOU FIND ME (Find Me Series)
LOST and FOUND (Find Me Series)
DYING to FORGET (The Station Series)
DYING to REMEMBER (The Station Series)
HAWKE and the BEAST (Once Upon A Twisted Time Anthology)
THE WELL COLLECTOR
You Can Follow Trish Here:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Trish_Dawson
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WriterTrishMarieDawson
Trish's Blog: https://writertrishmdawson.wordpress.com
Trish's Books can be found online in eBook form as well as in print through CreateSpace.
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