by L. J. Fox
He sighed and looked into his glass. “I am not really sure which is why I am doing this”
He gestured with his hand around to the group of students. “... but I am interested in counselling so am thinking along those lines.”
“Counselling? That’s an interesting vocation. You must be good with people and communication.”
“I hope so. I guess I will find out in the coming year.”
They chatted on about their classes and timetables, their accommodation, football teams, both oblivious to their surroundings. Other people attempted to interrupt for an introduction or a chat, and Andy and Layne both politely acquiesced but their eyes were drawn back to each other, and their own private conversation continued.
This was the first time, possibly ever, that Layne felt that she could be accepted as part of a group. No one could tell she was any different from anyone else. She had even forgotten for a few minutes that she had extra gifts. Her grandmother had always told her to be on alert and not forget about the gifts, in case she made a slip and people saw. She had so many years of practicing to be normal that she was feeling confident that there would not be a slip.
She was mid-sentence telling Andy about life in Katunga when she suddenly felt the presence.
Chapter 9
She stopped, eyes wide and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It felt like a wave of ice was shooting up and down her spine. This feeling had never happened to her before and she froze trying to identify the source. She tried to calm herself as her first reaction was panic. Should she flee? What was this strange feeling? What was happening to her? Was she in danger? Was she sick? Was this real fear and where was it coming from?
“Layne? What’s wrong?” Andy could see the alarm on her face. He had leaned his face closer toward her to identify what was wrong.
“Are you ok?”
He glanced around trying to understand what was wrong. He wondered if she was having some sort of medical episode. Her face had frozen still and her expression was a look of horror.
Layne didn’t answer. All her focus was on the strange sensation. Somehow, she knew something or someone was behind her. Andy put his hand on her arm worried about her. He could see she wasn’t conscious of him at all, and her thoughts were elsewhere. His hand touched her upper arm.
Slowly she turned face-about. Every muscle in her body ready to run at the slightest provocation. She was unaware of Andy and unaware of other students in the bar. Her focus was totally on what she would see when she turned around. Andy stepped back and withdrew his hand as she started to turn. His eyes followed where she was looking.
Layne found herself staring at a guy standing near the entrance to the bar about ten metres away. He was staring back at her. He was very tall, appearing well above the heads of other students standing between her and the stranger. His eyes did not waver and was fixated on her alone.
He was perfectly dressed in white shirt and black trousers, if not a little over-dressed for the bar, and had the dark black hair and chiselled face of a Greek God. He made no attempt to move in any way but stood there with his eyes riveted on her. Their eyes were locked together.
Stranger still to Layne was that she could not hear his heartbeat or detect any smell about him. This had never happened. Her senses never missed anything even from this distance. There was a familiarity about him though she knew they had never met before. It was almost like a primal recognition of some sort, but friend or foe? Layne was unsure.
“Is he a friend of yours?” Andy asked, glancing from Layne to the stranger and back, positive he was in the middle of a crossfire between a couple or an ex-couple.
His voice broke the spell. She blinked, calmed herself and focused back on Andy.
“No. I’ve never seen him before.”
She turned back around, dismissing the stranger, and deliberately placing her back to him. Every nerve in her body was tingling but it was not a pleasant experience. She felt it was the rudest thing she could do, turning her back on this person, so without hesitation she did it.
“He was staring at you as if he knew you.”
Andy persisted. He frowned as he looked from Layne to the stranger and back again.
“I know. I could feel him looking at me, but I don’t know who he is.”
She responded with the closest to the truth she could tell him. She shivered, then looked up into Andy’s eyes to give him her undivided attention. Andy saw her shiver and although they continued with their conversation, it felt slightly stilted as Layne subtly monitored behind her and Andy’s eyes kept darting over to where the stranger stood.
After a few minutes she was aware of Amity moving across the room and speaking with the stranger. That bothered her but she was not sure why. Was Amity in any danger? Was this her senses telling her there was something wrong with this guy? It almost felt like Amity was in conversation with the big, bad wolf. Layne turned sideways so she had a side view of Amity.
Andy was aware that something had changed with the appearance of this guy. Layne was talking with him, and yet, she was not really involved in the conversation. She was not smiling and as carefree as she had been before his arrival. He was aware that she was controlled and on alert. He was concerned there was more to this than met the eye, but knew he had no ownership over her. He didn’t really even know her, but he would not let her out of his sight tonight while she was looking so worried. He felt a protectiveness that he couldn’t explain. Something was wrong, and he had no idea what it was.
“Do you want to leave? Go back to campus?” He asked her.
He didn’t want her to feel that she had to stay if she was worried about something. He wanted to give her an out, although he realised it may sound like a pick-up line.
“No. I am fine.”
She smiled up at him, hoping to reassure him. She knew he was worried about her and didn’t want to feel anybody was going to scare her away from her new friends or this life. She also needed to know why she was having this strange reaction. Curiosity kept her standing in that bar, trying to understand what was going on.
Her neck prickled again, and she was aware of Amity coming up behind her with company. She readied herself for this episode, then turned, suddenly face-to-face with the good-looking stranger. Again, their eyes locked. His eyes were brown, dark brown and despite his good looks, she felt his eyes were cold and empty. The whites of his eyes were super white, as were his teeth. He seemed too perfect, like something that was not real. She almost felt like laughing at his appearance.
“Layne – Andy – this is Gregory” gushed Amity.
She was clearly smitten and was almost bouncing on the spot. Her eyes had widened, and she couldn’t stop smiling. Her effervescence contrasted with his cool indifference.
“He is staying on campus as well and is taking many of the same classes as us. How great is that?”
Her smile showed the enthusiasm she had for this thought.
There was a dead silence as the two of them absorbed the information and were unsure how to react. Andy was the first to move. Although Gregory’s eyes were on Layne, Andy stepped forward, hoping to break the eye-lock.
“Gregory does anyone call you Greg?” He asked cheerfully.
Gregory turned his eyes away from Layne and looked hard at Andy as if seeing him for the first time and looking into his soul. His face was not friendly as would be expected when meeting a new person. There was an arrogance in the look he was giving Andy, like a predator sizing up the opposition and finding the duel well below his standard.
Layne saw Gregory’s nostrils dilate and with a shock she realised that he was picking up all Andy’s smells.
She felt as if her heart had just stopped.
She stepped backward one step and realised her mouth was agape. Quickly she closed her mouth and tried to act normal. Was Gregory like her? Did he have the same senses and abilities? The thought was blowing her mind.
As if he had finished the processi
ng of Andy, Gregory suddenly spoke.
“Errr … no. Just Gregory.”
Andy put his hand out in a friendly invitation. Gregory looked down at the hand for a split second as if unsure what to do with it, before taking it.
“Andy”
Gregory nodded as he shook his hand, then he turned his attention back to Layne, totally dismissing Andy in an instant. The gesture was not lost on Andy. The audacity of it, the sheer arrogance was incredible.
“Layne …“
He offered his hand to her.
It was her turn to look at his hand as if trying to decide what to do with it. She imagined it like a limp prawn lying there in wait. So many thoughts ran through her mind in a split second. Again, it was the desire to act normal that made her act. Slowly she placed her hand in his as she looked into his eyes, trying to read who he was. They were dark and unreadable. Yet, she could see that he knew who and what she was. He also knew that she had identified what he was.
Checkmate!
She broke the eye lock, looking away as if disinterested.
“Welcome” she murmured as she withdrew her hand.
Andy noted that she immediately put her hand down wiping it on her jeans as if trying to wipe any trace of him off her hand. The movement was subtle, but he noticed it. He was totally puzzled at what was going on, though he could determine something was amiss. Andy turned and started a conversation with Gregory. He was determined to find out more about this guy, as much as he could. Forewarned is forearmed, he reasoned. Know thy enemy. He was a bit puzzled at Layne’s reaction to him. Something was wrong with the guy.
Amity pulled her aside.
“Isn’t he like the best-looking guy you have ever seen?”
Amity could barely control herself. Her voice had risen in her excitement and she was almost doing little jumps on the spot.
“Look around. All the other girls are looking at him.”
Layne looked around the room. Sure enough, there were a lot of eyes fixed on Gregory.
Amity giggled. “You don’t even notice that all the guys are looking at you too.”
Layne looked at her startled. She glanced around again, then decided to ignore this statement.
“Umm ... yes he is good looking, but you don’t know him. He may not be a nice person.”
It was the only thing Layne could think of to say. She looked around and a few of the guys were looking her way. She was sure it was more of a coincidence than anything else.
“What a strange thing to say.” Amity looked at her friend puzzled.
“I intend to get to know him ALOT better yet.” She giggled.
Layne felt so confused. Even though Gregory was incredibly good looking, she felt afraid of him in some way. She had always thought that her gifts were an individual and unique thing, like it came from a one-off mutated gene, and often a curse. Suddenly this person appeared that she was sure had the same gifts as her. How coincidental was that? Maybe there were other people who had these abilities and senses, but if that was the case, surely her grandparents would have told her so. Maybe they didn’t know, or maybe they didn’t want her to know. It all seemed so strange. In some ways she would love to ask Gregory a ton of questions that would help her to understand who or what she was, but how would you even start that conversation? Excuse me, can you tell me about your extra gifts? Are you a super-human? Do you have super-human senses and abilities? Of course, she couldn’t have that conversation with him.
Why was he here at the university? Was it for the same reasons as her, to gain an education? She shook her head. What else would he be here for? Why was he staring at her? No doubt he recognised her gifts and presence just as she had with him. Perhaps he was afraid of her too.
Lots to think about now.
Chapter 10
The journalist took another swig from his Scotch and Coke tumbler. A bit of the liquid dribbled down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He had been guilty of this pleasure on a frequent basis in the past month or so. So frequent, his wife had been angry with him on a daily basis. He couldn’t remember drinking very much previously, just the occasional social drink, but he was certainly making up for it now ever since that last phone call with Brad Harrison.
He ran his fingers through his thinning hair and again stared down at the scribbled notes on his well-worn notepad. He had quickly jotted down various words, phrases and names as he had spoken with Brad over the phone on those two occasions. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t make sense. It was crazy shit. Bat shit crazy even. If it had been anyone else other than Brad, he would have told them to take a flying jump at the fanciful tale he had heard, but the fact that it was Brad, changed everything.
Brad had been his best friend through primary school and high school. They had known each other since they were about eight years old. Not best friends but still very close. Brad was the most reliable and genuine person he had ever met. If Brad told him that green aliens had landed at Flinders Street Station in Melbourne, he would have believed it. But this story was so incredible that it couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?
He glanced up at the clock again. Sunday night 7.10pm. He was supposed to have met with Brad and his wife, Beverley this morning but he had not heard from them. He had tried to phone Brad a few times on his mobile phone, but it had gone unanswered. He had left a couple of voice messages. He knew Brad had been concerned about their safety, so the no-show was a bit ominous. Brad was very reliable. He chided himself that he was being silly. They were busy people with a young child. Perhaps they had been side-tracked and been unable to get away after all. He would probably phone tomorrow and be apologetic at some last-minute delay.
The journalist had been looking forward to writing the article, so professionally he was disappointed that the meeting had not taken place. This would have been the story of a lifetime, a career high. On a personal level, he was worried about Brad and his family and would have bent over backward to help them in any way he could.
“Dinner soon.”
His wife, Susan popped her head in the door to alert him. Every Sunday night without fail was roast night. He usually looked forward to a good roast dinner but tonight he just felt like another Scotch and Coke. He reached for the bottle to top up his tumbler.
His mobile phone beeped, and he jumped, retrieving it from the pocket of his jacket hanging over the chair. The message was from Brad Harrison. What a relief. Quickly he opened the message.
Meet @ Royal Mail Mooroopna. Now?
Royal Mail was a hotel in Mooroopna which was only six kilometres away. He looked down at his glass of Scotch and Coke. Damn. He wished he had not had those three drinks. Three drinks would put him over the legal limit of 0.05 for driving a car. Damn. He thought about asking Susan to drive him to Mooroopna. No. He couldn’t do that to her. She had a roast ready and children to feed. Should he phone a taxi? He looked at the message again. Mooroopna was not far from where he lived. He could do it. He would just keep his fingers crossed that the police were not on the road tonight booking drunk drivers. He quickly sent back his reply.
OK. Coming.
Quickly he grabbed his notepad and threw it in his backpack, checked the backpack for his voice recorder, pens, camera and spare notepads. Satisfied, he zipped up the pocket, pulled his jacket from the back of the chair and hurried out the door.
“Sorry love. Back later.” He yelled out to Susan as he opened the front door.
He threw his jacket and backpack in the front passenger seat of his white Ford Falcon, ran around the front of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He strapped his seat belt on, not wanting any reason for a policeman to pull him over tonight.
He drove through the side streets of Shepparton, careful to stay off the main road in case of police patrols or breath testing stations. That would be the last thing he needed, to miss the meeting AND lose his driver’s licence, not to mention Susan would be furious with him. He knew Shepparton well so he c
riss-crossed across the quiet streets until he left the town behind him.
Once out of the town and back on the highway, he increased his speed. The night was dark already and he could only see the road ahead of him in his car’s headlights, the white lines flashing by. He glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard – 7.21. He felt an urgency to get to Mooroopna as soon as he possibly could but checked his speed, knowing with a few drinks in his system, his reflexes were not optimum.
A light blinded him momentarily, and he squinted his eyes against the glare of lights reflecting in his rea-view mirror. He had not been aware of a car behind him. Perhaps it had come out of a side street somewhere. He hoped it was not a police car. Maybe they had followed him and were about to catch him out. He groaned at the thought and checked his speed again.
The car had its headlights on full beam. He squinted, waiting for the car to turn down its lights. It didn’t. He swore to himself as he flicked his rear-view mirror to deflect the bright light. Usually this action made the driver realise they had their lights on full-beam and they would dip them. That didn’t happen. It was hard to see the road ahead with the bright glare of lights from behind. The car’s headlights seemed to be getting closer and closer. What the hell was this idiot doing, he wondered?
It was not the police he determined. They wouldn’t have their headlights on full. This is just some idiot driver with no thought for others. He slowed again. The car seemed to be in a big hurry, so hopefully they would overtake his car, and those lights would be gone. The car didn’t overtake. It just sat there behind him with glaring lights. The headlights came closer.
He tried to decide what to do. Should he pull over and let the car go past but it was hard to think of braking when the car was so close to the back of his car. Braking could cause an accident. Without too much though, he increased his speed. Maybe he could put some distance between himself and those lights. Outrun the idiot. He accelerated.