Claire stood, doing her best not to cry. “Come here. Both of you.”
Jack got up from the chair and Marissa rose from the bed, and they both walked to the center of the room. Claire put her arms around both of them. “I love the two of you. I trust you, and I need you to stay. You’re going to be fine. Promise me that you’ll stay?”
A long silence followed.
“I promise,” Marissa conceded.
“I’ll stay for now,” Jack agreed. “But the moment those two assholes try to put me in a similar situation, I’m moving down to that podunk town you live in and managing the Kickin’ Chickin.’”
Claire laughed, the tears flowing now. “That’s a deal.”
Dr. Byron burst into Dean Pritcham’s office. “What the hell is going on?”
Remington rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”
An hour had passed since Claire left Pritcham’s office, no longer a student at the university. Remington didn’t know how word had spread so quickly, but it apparently had.
Byron didn’t look at Remington or Lance. He kept his eyes on the Dean. “Claire Hinterland just quit? Everyone is talking about it, and I had to disband class early. What is going on?”
Lance sat on the couch, appearing unperturbed. “We told her to give us Frank, or she was expelled. She chose to quit. We will make sure that’s on her transcript, instead of expulsion, as it will probably help her get jobs better.”
Byron whipped around, his eyes alight with anger. “Go to hell, Lance. I don’t need your bullshit responses right now.” He turned quickly back to Dean Pritcham. “You let her just quit? And you let these two bully you into it?”
Dean Pritcham raised her hands in exasperation. “What do you want me to do, Patrick? She disobeyed a direct order, and you know as well I do that she’s not allowed to do that. She was given the choice, and she decided to leave. Would you prefer I chain her up here in my office?”
Byron shook his head in disgust. “She’s the best student we have. The most capable. She’s done more to keep the world safe than all of you combined, and she’s done it at the age of nineteen. Now you forced her to quit because she has the moral fiber that apparently everyone in this room lacks.”
He turned and looked at Remington, his disgust with Lance still palpable. “What’s your plan now? Because I signed onto this university with the understanding that we would have a fighting chance. You two idiots just insured that we do not.”
Lance looked at his fingernails and pretended to clean them, showing that he wasn’t impressed at all with Byron’s anger.
Remington looked at the old man. He knew Lance was putting on a show. Both agents cared about Claire, Frank, and the rest. They were as dedicated as anyone to saving Earth from this invasion. “Dr. Byron, you were a soldier in Vietnam. Did you take orders you didn’t agree with?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question, young man,” the old professor snapped back.
Remington smiled slightly. He liked Byron’s spunk. Claire had a lot of it in her, too. They had chosen well, despite the way current circumstances looked. “Yes. We have a plan. We were just discussing it with Dean Pritcham before you decided to barge in.”
Byron’s eyes narrowed, and he held his ground. “You’re lucky I’m the only one here now. We’ve got four professors at this place, and all of them know Claire well. They all know the value she brings, and you might have a mutiny on your hands in a rather short time.”
Lance glanced at Dr. Byron. “She’s not gone for good. We understand that we need her. We also understand that we need Frank right now. Our personality profile on Claire is deep, and she has only two places she can go.”
Remington nodded. “Home, or to wherever Frank is. She’s not going home, not yet. Whatever else Claire’s feeling, she is definitely feeling like she failed. She can’t stand it, and to go home and tell her parents, well, quite frankly, she won’t do it yet.”
Lance picked up the conversation. “So, she’ll go to Frank. We know that she has some way to contact him because of how upset she got last time when he left with no way for them to speak with each other. She’ll go to where he is, and then we’ll go too.”
“Dr. Byron,” Dean Pritcham interrupted in a much softer tone. “It’s the only way we can get to Frank. We need him quickly because we don’t know how much longer the sky is going to keep behaving like that. The cult is aware of it too, and that’s why our two FBI ambassadors look as hurt as they do.”
Byron’s anger subsided, but only slightly. He didn’t address Dean Pritcham, turning on Remington and Lance instead. “And what does your personality profile tell you Claire will do when she finds out you manipulated her to find Frank? Does it say she’ll join back up and lead you to victory? Because from my read on the situation, she’ll tell you to fuck off.”
Remington answered, knowing the question was a good one but also aware that he was out of options. “We’ll deal with that when we get to it, Dr. Byron. For now, we just have to figure out what’s about to hit us.”
Chapter Eight
Claire looked at the cell phone in her hand. If the FBI had known she had it, then they wouldn’t have let her leave. She’d never used it before, and quite honestly didn’t know if it really worked. Frank had procured it for her before he left.
“Lass,” he’d told her. “Ye’re worse than a wife, but here ye go. Ye call me for emergencies only, understand? I’m not to be disturbed for dilly-dallying or runnin’ ye gums.”
Claire had rolled her eyes at that point, just happy to have a way to contact him if she needed it. This had been right after they got back to the university from Miami, and Frank decided he’d had enough.
Claire understood then, and she still understood now. But she wasn’t ready to go home yet. She had to think about how to explain all of this to her parents. Her life hadn’t been planned out, exactly, but there’d been structure in place. If she survived university, there would have been a future for her.
Now that future was gone.
She wasn’t nearly ready to tell her parents that fact, or actually begin considering what came next.
Claire was smarter than to tell the university where she was heading or ask them to buy her a ticket anywhere. Anything she did electronically would be tracked, besides this phone, which Frank assured her was a burner.
She’d paid for her own cab ride, borrowing cash from Jack. Thankfully, he hadn’t been too much of a jerk, just said she had to pay him back when she returned—his way of guaranteeing she did return. The cab took her to the airport, and now she stood outside with one bag and the cell phone.
Claire looked around her, trying to spot a tail, but all she saw were people coming and going, cars dropping people off and picking them up. For all her training in school, they hadn’t told her a thing about figuring out if she was being followed.
How paranoid do I want to be? she wondered. If they find Frank and me together, it’s not like they’re going to be able to force us to do anything. Remington and Lance might be dicks, but they’re not psychopaths.
Claire found the one number programmed into the phone. Frank, being a smart ass, had saved it as “The Sexiest Myther Alive.”
Claire dialed it.
“This had better be an emergency, lass,” Frank answered gruffly. “I’m not coming back there. I’m not helping. I don’t care how much booze they promise me.”
“It’s...” Claire paused briefly. “Well, it’s an emergency from my perspective.”
Frank paused too, obviously hearing the concern in her voice and trying to figure out how to proceed. “What’s going on, lass?”
“I’m… I’m not exactly a student anymore, and I was wondering if I could come and hang out with you for a little bit.” Claire gritted her teeth when she finished talking, fully prepared for Frank to tell her hell, no, he wasn’t risking being sucked back into the FBI’s orbit.
“Ye aren’t a student?” Frank was nearly shouting.
&nb
sp; “Nope. As of a few hours ago.”
“What did ye do, lass? Get caught drinking in the dorm? Quit going to class? Started sexually harassing Jack, who I know ye have a crush on?”
Claire could tell Frank was wanting to know the truth but also joking at the same time— trying to loosen her up some, especially with the last bit. “I wouldn’t give you up. Stuff is happening, and they wanted me to bring you in. I said no. They said they’d expel me. I said, I quit.”
Frank sighed. “Ah, there’s always stuff going on. Doesn’t mean Frank needs to be involved. Sure, ye can come hang out with me. Ye’re sure ye aren’t being followed?”
Claire shrugged. “No. I’m not sure, but I don’t see anyone.”
“What am I to do?” Frank grumbled. “I’m sure ye will lead those bastards right to me, but if I send ye home right now, you’ll probably never get out of that small town. Just flip chicken until ye croak, ye tail between ye legs the entire time. No, I can’t let that happen. Sure, come on out here.”
Claire winced. “Uhhh, Frank. I’m going to need you to buy me a ticket.”
A string of expletives flowed out of the phone, so loud that Claire had to pull it away from her face. It went on for a few seconds, and when she heard silence, she put it to her face. “So, what do ya say?”
“Sure, but you’re flying Spirit Airlines.”
Chapter Nine
The lightning grew harsh, striking at double the rate it had on any previous night. The FBI agents sent to guard the area all turned their faces upward. Many had been afraid to come out here to begin with, and this increased activity only heightened their fears.
The “thinning” places in the sky had spread, making more of the red canyons and dark rivers visible to the watchers.
And still, the lightning increased in frequency.
“What the hell is going on?” one agent asked another.
The second agent only shook his head in response, continuing to stare up at the sky in wonder.
Seconds turned into minutes, and the entire prairie buzzed with static electricity.
“We should get out of here,” someone suggested.
“Yeah, you go ahead and be the first to leave. I’m right behind you,” came the reply.
The lightning was so great that it started blocking out the canyons beyond the torn sky. Only bright, white light could be seen streaking across the sky.
Then a bolt plummeted down, striking the middle of the prairie—the first to touch the earth since the entire endeavor began days before.
It hit the ground and immediately disappeared, as did the tear in the Veil.
The lightning quit. The thinning places in the sky simply stopped existing. No more river, no more rocky canyons. The agents continue staring upward, thinking surely something must start happening, but nothing did. After a few minutes, different groups started walking toward where the lightning had struck. Each agent had their weapon drawn, but when they arrived, there was nothing to shoot at.
They saw a large black circle full of grass burnt to ash.
And in the middle of that ash, they saw six different prints. Two looked like human feet, and the other four looked like some kind of dog.
The god known as Hades—or Pluto to the Romans—arrived on Earth with his dog, Cerberus. Cerberus didn’t look like any other dog on Earth. He had three heads.
Hades looked around and saw grass, a scene very different from his home. Yet, he had it on good authority that the security in the underworld —the ghosts—had all disappeared to this place. To Earth.
Hades cast his gaze farther and immediately saw humans. He could see clearly for miles and miles. The humans were still looking up at the sky, although Hades figured they would shortly come for him.
He had a satchel slung over his shoulder, and he reached into it. He pulled out a black dog collar, then bent down and attached it to Cerberus’ middle head. The left head licked Hades’ hand as he did so. Standing again, he pulled out his helmet and put it on.
Hades didn’t fully understand this place, but he knew his workers had all shown up here—as well as a host of other creatures—and he was here to get his unpaid employees back. He didn’t know whether the humans would be able to see him and Cerberus or not, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The collar and helmet kept them both invisible.
“Hmmm.” Hades looked out across the long fields of grass again, this time paying no attention to the humans. “Where to start? Someone must know where my ghosts went. Someone here took them.”
Hades started walking with Cerberus at his side. Just a god and his dog ready to burn down the world.
Bill had hung up a dartboard, which Richard hadn’t seen before. Gone were the solitaire cards. Mike sat in the same place as before, but Octavia and Jess had walked around to the front of the table and were leaning against it. Andrew was well dressed as always, wearing a gray suit. He was on the opposite side of the room from the dartboard and appeared to be in a heated discussion with his friend who no one else could see.
“You’ve failed us twice, Richard.” Octavia’s face was hard. Jess wasn’t smiling either. Even Mike seemed angry, and that was an odd thing to see.
Bill pulled darts from the board. “Tell the pubescent pissant that he fucked up bad.”
“You heard him, I assume?” Jess asked.
Richard nodded but said nothing.
Octavia shoved her hands inside her pockets. “Why didn’t you kill the two FBI agents?”
Good. Everyone keep their hands inside their pockets, Richard thought. That gives me the best chance of living through this encounter.
Richard appeared calm, despite knowing the danger facing him right now. “I underestimated their abilities. I thought I could kill them with a knife. I should have used a gun.”
Jess shook her head. “If you had murdered them, perhaps the place wouldn’t have been as well-guarded.”
Richard did not drop his eyes or look away, even for a second. “I apologize. To all of you.”
Andrew huffed from the other side of the room, his imaginary friend clearly saying something to him. “She wants to know if you’re aware the sky is no longer burning?”
Burning? Richard wondered. Is that what they’re calling it? He nodded in response to the question.
Spite filled Andrew’s voice. “She also wants to know if you have any clue why?”
Richard made sure that he could see Bill and those darts from the corner of his eye. Weird as these people may be, they made Richard look as dangerous as a single fire ant. “No. Not yet. I was heading out to that area again when you summoned me back. I had planned on investigating.”
Bill was facing the board, a dart at eye level. “This pompous prick from Prickville is mad we called him back, Jess? Tell him to fuck off.”
Finally, Jess smiled. It was brief, and not the warmest, but it said that he might not die today. “Richard, we know that you are dedicated to the Following. We know that you want the same things we do. It’s not your heart we doubt.”
Octavia picked up as if she’d been speaking the entire time. “We just don’t like being disappointed. Not killing the agents, and then not being there when the sky stopped burning, those things disappoint us.”
“They disappoint her too!” Andrew yelled.
Richard didn’t turn to look at the madman in the suit.
Mike folded his hands across his ample stomach. “I’m not even much for laughs today.”
Jess stepped away from the table and walked over to where Richard stood. She gently put her arm around his shoulder and turned him from the room, back toward the large doors which had let him in. Richard did everything in his power not to shiver, but one ran down his spine anyway. Jess started to walk, forcing Richard to go with her.
“We can’t have any more disappointments,” she told him with her arm still draped over Richard’s shoulders. The doors started opening in front of them. “We want you to go to Nebraska and find whatever crossed over the
Veil. Then we want you to bring the Myther to us. Can you do this, Richard?”
Other than the shiver, Richard looked like stone. He nodded. “I’ll bring it back.”
Bill raised a dart, ready to throw it. “Tell that cock-sucker he’d better!”
Jess smiled warmly. “We know you will. See you soon.”
Chapter Ten
“You want a beer?” Frank asked.
Claire looked at the cooler between them, then shook her head. “That’s the first time you’ve ever asked if I want one. You know I’m still not twenty-one, right?”
Frank shrugged. “If ye’re old enough to kill witches and vampires, then ye’re old enough to drink beer. That’s the way Frank looks at it, at least.”
Something to that, I suppose, she thought, although she still didn’t reach into the cooler. Instead, she leaned back on the beach chair and let the rays warm her skin. She’d arrived at Myrtle Beach early in the morning, and Frank had been there to pick her up with Al sitting in the backseat. They’d driven to their small apartment, and Frank told her gruffly that she could sleep on the couch before heading back to his bedroom.
“I took the liberty of ‘borrowing’ a few bikinis from our local store,” Al had told her, sounding almost as tired as Frank. “I don’t know if they’ll fit, but they’re hanging up on the shower rod in the bathroom. If not, we can go buy some tomorrow. Frank doesn’t like to waste time shopping, though. Says it’s ‘wasting the day away.’”
With that, the ghost had gone to his bedroom, leaving Claire alone. She was fine with it, though, because she was flat out exhausted. She’d laid down on the couch and fallen asleep immediately.
She awoke to Frank rustling her shoulders and chastising her. “Come on, lass. We’re not sleeping the day away.”
What he’d really meant was that it was time to hit the beach.
Paranormal University: Third Semester: An Unveiled Academy Novel Page 5