“Micah,” a male voice called in his dark room.
Micah bolted up. “Who’s there?” He searched the darkness.
“Don’t be afraid, Micah.” The voice was rich, full, yet calming at the same time.
“Ok, I’m not afraid, but where are you?” He didn’t see anyone.
“I’m with you now. Listen to my voice.”
He cocked his head to the side. There was something so familiar about his voice…
“I’m listening,” he whispered. “Who are you?”
“I am the Captain.”
He gasped. “The Captain?”
“Yes, and I am pleased with your service, Micah. You have sacrificed everything, and have been willing to sacrifice even more. I’ve come to tell you it’s time.”
“Time? Time for what?” he asked, excited, yet terrified, by the implications.
As if to answer him, Sage appeared. Micah’s eyes adjusted to her brightness as she smiled back at him.
“Sage will tell you all you need to know,” the Captain’s voice continued.
Micah gaped at her.
All I need to know… like the…
“Yes, the location of the Enoch’s temple,” the Captain finished Micah’s thoughts.
“Prom’s in a few weeks, going with Andrew. I guess that’s no big surprise though, since we’re dating and all,” Eden said to her empty bedroom. She set her hairbrush down. Her hair was silky from all the absentminded brushing.
“So what do you think of my family moving? I’m excited. We’re moving back into our old neighborhood, but we won’t be on the same street.”
Won’t be on Micah’s street again.
“Can’t believe it’s April already,” she announced, trying to change the subject with herself. Of course, April made her think, Micah’s finally coming home!
Her homework was done, but she didn’t want to leave her bedroom yet. She glanced around, feeling listless.
“Are you here still? Can’t you appear again? Just sit with me. I’d love to learn something about you. Like your name.”
She waited.
Nothing.
She grabbed her Bible, now a regular fixture on her nightstand. She tried not to force her own actions, hoping her hands would move on their own. The result—the book sat unopened in her lap.
She grunted, “Fine,” opening it up to the beginning, in Genesis.
She scanned the first few chapters: the Creation, the story of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden, and then, in the third chapter, something caught her eye.
“So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubim, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.”
“Flaming sword? Like your flaming sword?”
She felt the good feeling.
“So is this you? Are you one of those Cherubim?”
Good feeling.
She grinned. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe you were in the Garden of Eden.” She scanned a few more verses. “So you blocked the way to the Tree of Life, and kept Adam and Eve from eating it. You defended the Garden of Eden, and now you just guard me?”
She glanced around, deciding for some reason to look directly at the empty spot next to her on the bed.
“Why would you be with me?” she whispered.
The good feeling engulfed her, and her eyes stung. She wasn’t sure what it meant. Other than he must think I’m worth guarding.
She grinned at the air, raising one eyebrow.
“Well, one thing’s for sure, you angels sure age well.”
The good feeling was mingled with something. Perhaps he’s laughing.
Entering the always-stuffy Biology room the next day, Eden slid into her small, wooden desk. The square classroom felt hotter than usual, the smells of past dissections assaulting her nostrils. She was rifling through her folder, looking for today’s homework assignment, when someone touched her arm. She turned, and stared into Damon’s chocolate eyes. Dumbfounded, she focused on the pencil held between his black fingernails.
“You dropped this.”
“Oh, thanks.” She grabbed it and, embarrassed, glanced away. She felt his gaze on her for a brief moment, and then the desk was creaking behind her as he moved into it.
The teacher, Mr. Biggs, began explaining how pumps and valves shuttle ions in and out of cells, and she tried to listen.
She thought she was paying attention until she heard Mr. Biggs repeat, “Eden, can you give me an example in the human body of when myocites beat in unison?”
Her mouth went dry.
Damon mumbled, “The heart.”
“The heart,” she repeated like a parrot.
“Correct.” Mr. Biggs continued with his lecture.
She twisted in her seat to face Damon and mouthed, Thanks again.
She supposed the arched eyebrow she got meant, no problem. After class ended, she rotated to face him.
“Thanks for saving me.”
“No worries.” He didn’t make eye contact as they both stood.
Enough of this, she decided. Forget what happened. I’m sick of awkwardness.
“Hey Damon, do you remember when you used to throw spit wads in my hair?” she asked, and then forced a laugh. Way to break the ice, Eden.
He stared at her. “Kind of hoped you forgot about that.”
“No way, it was the only attention I ever got from a boy. I think it’s funny now.”
“It wasn’t very nice attention, sorry.”
“Don’t be, we were kids.” She smiled at him, feeling something strange stirring inside.
She was so out of her comfort zone just talking to Damon, she didn’t realize what that feeling meant until it was too late.
Her mind groaned as her arms reached forward, like a stiff, unbending robot. She had no choice, her body moved on its own accord, hugging him.
She stepped back quickly, noting he did not return the hug. His brown eyes were staring back at her now, his mouth ajar.
He’s in shock. Is he breathing?
“Ah, sorry, I like to hug… people,” she mumbled. Of all the people!
His mouth closed, his black brows relaxing slightly. “Looks like it. See ya.”
And he walked out of the classroom.
No one was left, not even the teacher. No one, but her guardian she supposed, could see her collapse into her seat, legs shaking uncontrollably.
He’s never missed a day and I should know. I haven’t either.
As much as Eden was mortified by Monday’s hugging, she was even more embarrassed that Damon missed over a week of school since it. Does he dislike me that much?
Wednesday, Damon staggered into the classroom, his face down, his hands shoved into his pockets.
Nervous, yet relieved, she peeked over at him. His face was pale, almost green, and his eyes bloodshot. Man, he looks miserable.
“Hey Damon, were you sick?” she asked as he passed.
“Yeah, sure,” Damon grunted, not looking at her.
So much for getting rid of awkwardness—I just made it worse.
As class wore on, she heard him muttering under his breath a few times. She tried to understand what he was saying, while sort of feeling bad for eavesdropping, but she couldn’t pick out any recognizable words. Doesn’t sound English.
When class ended, she asked again, “Are you feeling ok?”
He gathered his stuff.
She waited, and then repeated, “Damon, are you still sick?”
He glanced at her as if he seeing her there for the first time. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He strode from the room.
Micah could see sweat trickling down the boy’s neck, the back of his dark gray t-shirt wet. The boy swiped his palms down his jeans. As an unseen passenger in the back, Micah watched the car stop. The boy with black hair jumped from the front seat, already bolting for the house.
“Damon,” the woman in the driver’s seat called after, “don’t mak
e yourself scarce. You father needs help in the yard today.”
Damon, Micah assumed, turned, removing the ear buds from his ears.
In his dream, Micah followed the woman as she approached her son. “I know you’ve been sick, but I think some fresh air would do you good. I need to get all the weeds cleared out of my flowerbeds, and your father’s itching to get his garden cleared and ready. You know how he likes to plant too early.”
Damon shrugged his shoulders. “Ok,” he said, replacing his earpieces.
Micah observed him working for a long time, wondering why he was seeing such an uneventful vision. From what he could tell, there was nothing unusual going on here. Damon had just finished stuffing the last garbage bag full of the weeds.
“Thanks,” his mom said, walking over.
“Sure. Is that all?” He hefted the bag onto the other bags.
“Well, your dad’s wrestling with that silly stump again. He wants his garden to be a few feet bigger this year. You remember the little stump next to it? He’s got it in his head that he can move it all by himself.”
Damon looked in the direction of the loud grumbling. “I’ll go help him.”
“Heaven knows he needs it. I’ll get supper on. How does fried chicken and cream corn sound?”
“Good,” Damon called as he jogged around the house. Micah followed him, curious.
Approaching, the grumbling became a stream of profanities. Micah grunted. Guess the stump’s winning.
“Why don’t you take a break and let me try, Dad?” Damon offered.
Damon’s dad glanced up with sweat was dripping off his nose. “All right. Knock yourself out, kid. I need some lemonade.”
The man marched away, still griping under his breath. Damon and Micah studied the stump. It wasn’t big, perhaps six inches in diameter. Damon’s dad had dug out all around it.
Damon picked up the shovel and dug deeper. After a few minutes, he tossed the shovel aside and, getting down low, grabbed the stump, pulling hard.
“Come on.” Damon exerted himself, and then incoherent words were tumbling from his mouth. Damon’s eyes widened, perhaps shocked by his own outburst. The words were unfamiliar to Micah, yet the intonation felt powerful.
He wondered if Damon understood what he’d just said.
Damon’s mouth dropped open.
Micah saw why. The stump was no longer rooted in its spot. It’d moved three feet over, buried in the earth like it’d been there for years.
Damon straightened up and muttered, “Holy crap.”
Then Micah was back in his bedroom, his suitcase sprawled open on his bed, next to his plane tickets.
“Oh man, Trent’s going to love this guy,” Micah said out loud as he finished shoving his clothes into his bag.
Friday morning, Eden tugged her dress from her closet. She wanted to look at it one more time before tonight. After Andrew had asked her to go, her mom had taken her shopping. They’d hit several stores before walking into a boutique full of prom dresses in the mall. Eden had immediately fallen in love with her dress. It was sleeveless with a V-neck, and had a crisscross open back. The worker at the store called it a Grecian silhouette, with a high waist hitting directly under her chest, covered in a glittering band. The dress hugged her hips and then flowed out to the floor.
Her mom had gasped when she came out of the dressing room. “It looks like it was made for you.”
“Really? You like it? I don’t usually get things in red, but I love this,” she admitted, doing a pirouette in the mirror.
“You look gorgeous, so grown up,” her mom had confirmed.
Now she held the hanger up, the red material silky in her hands.
“I am excited to go,” she said out loud, maybe to reassure herself. It didn’t help knowing Micah was flying back any day now. Her parents weren’t sure what day, and she was too embarrassed to call the Hawkins to find out.
At school, there was a definite buzz among the students. Eden felt bad Kevin hadn’t mustered enough courage to ask Jessie to go too. By their lockers, she asked Jessie how the play was going in drama, since she had the supporting lead. That got Jessie talking all the way to trig.
Andrew grinned at Eden, not saying a word about their plans. It would only make Jessie feel left out, since she was the only one in their group not going. Willow and Chase, Caitlyn and Dave, and even Jake and Megan were joining them.
Ironically, after her party, Megan was a lot nicer to Eden. Since Eden lingered in the hall a little too long with Andrew after class, she had to hustle into Biology. She wasn’t surprised to see Damon already sitting in his chair. He always beat her now.
She hurried to her seat and then, seeing she was still on time, twisted around.
“Are you going to prom?”
He made eye contact “No,” and then looked away.
She had decided to continue to be friendly, even if his expression read, Leave me alone.
“That’s too bad. Are you feeling any better yet?” she probed.
“I’m fine; I’m not sick.” He stared back at her.
She sighed inwardly, and flipped around.
He sure isn’t making it easy.
Everyone was eating and having a good time at the steak house, until Chase said, “Hey, did you guys hear Micah’s back?”
Megan sputtered, covering her mouth with a napkin. Jake patted her back, saying, “Awesome! It’s about time he got home.”
Eden was glad all eyes were on Megan, not her. Her cheeks felt warm.
Chase agreed. “He texted me about an hour ago, wants to know if we wanted to hang out tonight. He didn’t know its prom. I tried to get him to stag it with us, but he didn’t want to. He’s cool with us coming over later for the after the party-party.” Chase grinned. “What do you think?”
Everyone looked around at each other, nodding and saying, “Yeah.”
“Is that ok with you?” Andrew asked her.
She swallowed. “Sure.”
She caught Caitlyn’s hazel eyes gazing at her, an unspoken question in her expression. Eden pretended she didn’t notice.
Once dinner had ended, they filed into their cars, heading for the park. The dance was held outdoors this year, in a large park the school had reserved. There was a white canopy set up with white lights lining the entire ceiling and sides. The DJ was on a stage at the front of the tent, and there was some kind of hard flooring down on the ground. It was too packed to even see what it was made of. Eden noticed there was another, smaller tent set up around the dance floor. Peering in, there was one long refreshment table and many small, round tables, where kids were sitting and eating.
After several fast and slow songs, Eden made her excuse. She needed a minute. It felt like her heart was in overdrive and her mind sluggish.
“Mind if I run to the restroom real quick? I need to freshen up. It’s sort of hot in here.” She felt lame saying it.
“Not at all, I think the bathroom’s back there.” Andrew pointed at the small building nestled in the trees. She nodded as he said, “Meet you back by the refreshments.”
She followed the path to the restrooms, taking long, deep breaths. It’ll be fun seeing Micah again.
She entered the ladies room with a throng of girls. Impressed, it was much larger than it’d appeared on the outside, Eden searched for an empty sink or mirror. It was packed with girls, reapplying makeup, fixing hair, and pushing up chests in bras. A few girls finished their touch-ups and stepped away, leaving Eden free to stare at herself in the mirror. Though Jessie’s makeup abilities were good, she saw the panic in her own eyes.
Why does he do this to me?
Wringing her hands together, she left, and instead of heading back towards the dance, she wandered towards the trees. Just need a minute to clear my head.
Hiking her dress up to her shins, she stepped off the path, and further into the dark trees. She was so engrossed in giving herself a lecture on how she needed to let Micah go, she missed the slight push
against her chest. Wandering deeper into the forest, she shivered. Her naked skin was exposed to the gusts that were now making the trees sway and bend.
Oblivious to her surroundings, the smell of rotten eggs assaulted her.
She gasped. Oh my gosh, what have I done?
Throwing her dress up higher, she spun around, sprinting back. The wind was strong now; her hair lifted off her shoulders, blowing into her face. She compelled her legs to go faster, as she reprimanded herself for being so stupid.
A man’s voice commanded, “Eden, run faster!”
Although she had only heard him once before, she knew his voice, and whirled around.
Fire lit up the night as it whipped through the air. Heaping piles of ash surrounded him on the ground. He backed closer to her, his blade between her and the figures approaching. As he continued to lunge forward and slice them down, her eyes began to make out the vastness of their numbers.
Terror shook her; there were hundreds of them, jumping down from trees and climbing out from behind rocks. Feeling too stunned to move, she stared as her guardian sliced through ten more demons within seconds. But more were coming, lots more. Finally registering what she must do, she clutched her dress and bolted. Dashing through the trees, she didn’t slow even when she snagged on branches. Her dress was ruined, her bare skin scraped, but none of that mattered now.
She could hear the battle behind her, the shrieks and cries, smelling of rotten flesh and sulfur. Her path was lit by her guardian’s sword. He was behind her, holding them back, but not all were destroyed. They were on either side of her now, faster than she was. One to the right reached out just as fire sliced through its arms. Being close, the black forms actually looked semi-human, with long, skinny arms and massive, powerful legs. Just like Micah said.
One to her left lunged, and this time there was no fire stopping it. It grabbed her at the waist, knocking her to the ground. But this one didn’t gloat over her, as the one in her bedroom had, but instead, it sunk its nasty, long nails deep into her back as it pulled her off the ground, and threw her over its shoulder.
The Awakener (The Watchers of Men) Page 12