“You are mistaken. I’m in the system. There has to be—”
“Elsabetha?” My name echoed against the walls of the commons. I didn’t need to look to know it was Jenna Malcom.
“Hi, Jenna,” I said, trying to control the disdain in my voice.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“This woman insists I wasn’t involved with the Academy,” I said, pointing to her.
“No,” the receptionist said. “What I said was, I have no record of you.” I glared at her.
Jenna stepped up to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get a sandwich. I’m on my lunch hour.”
I left with her. I’d pushed my luck enough as it was. I remembered watching students get roughly escorted off the grounds, and I didn’t need that added to my day. We walked in silence. I used the time to take in the scenery, hoping it would jog some memories loose. Jenna glanced my way occasionally. Finally she said, “You’re awfully quiet. What was that about anyway?”
I shrugged. “I was just walking by. Thought I could get some information from my records to help me remember.” It was a lie. A small one, but still, I couldn’t trust Jenna. That feeling had grown more evident each time I saw her.
“A little anxious?” she asked.
“It doesn’t make sense that they wouldn’t have record of me.”
We arrived at a sandwich shop on campus. Once Jenna had her sandwich, we sat at a table near the park. I remembered running there when I was a cadet. People surrounded us, enjoying the warmer, mid-October day. The sun shone between a few dark clouds that promised a good snow storm later in the evening, if not overnight. But, for the moment, it was pleasant. The smell of dried leaves mixed in with the aroma of smoked meats, coating the breeze. Every time it blew in my direction, I smelled summer.
“You know, I don’t think Alexander wants you running around and checking into things yourself.” She picked at the lettuce in her half-eaten sandwich. “Some of the people he feels were responsible for your accident have very strong ties with the Academy.”
“What do you mean?”
She set her sandwich down and locked her gaze on mine. “Do you remember the Nepherium?”
I nodded.
“Well, there’s been some wicked stuff happening around here that involve them. Things we never expected from them.”
“Like killing people?” I offered.
“Did you remember that?” she asked a little too curiously.
“No. I get news updates,” I said sarcastically. It was true … sort of.
She nodded. “Like killing people that don’t support them. And even then, it’s the leaders of the anti-Nepherium activists.” She waved her hands in the air as if she was making a big to-do with the anti-Nepherium supporters.
That’s right … the Nepherium had fallen out of popularity. Possibly because of their warnings of a destructive race, known as the Aagrarians, who were believed to be used as a means to keep humans ‘in line.’ The appearance of this brother-race never happened. Human’s started to wonder if they ever would. After a few hundred years, humans stopped believing.
Then, the Nepherium disappeared.
It didn’t explain why a non-volatile race would suddenly turn violent. If the Nepherium killed someone, they were forced into it. What Jenna said made no difference. I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t.
“Are you saying you think the Nepherium—a race sworn as humanity’s protectors, not to mention one that has practically disappeared—is responsible for trying to kill me?”
She smiled. “Now she’s connecting the dots. And they’re here. We just don’t know where to find them.”
“So why are you here then? At the Academy, I mean.”
“I’m working on something in the library. A side project for Alexander. I think you were discharged from the Academy some time ago.”
Her words were spoken far too casually for someone who just told me my life was in danger just by stepping on campus. My mom’s warning entered my mind and echoed soundlessly. Don’t trust anyone. Not even Jenna… Sometimes things happen for a reason, Elsabetha. Don’t be in a rush to find the memories you lost. They may lead you to a place you don’t want to go.
“I don’t understand something. You took me to an on-campus restaurant and you are acting like I’m not in danger right now. What gives? What is really going on in that head of yours?”
She looked at me with cold, darkened eyes. They were unlike anything I had seen before, yet, reminded me very much of Alexander’s in depth. In a smooth, calm voice she said, “Go home, Elsabetha, before you get yourself hurt. Let the people trying to protect you find the missing pieces.”
I pressed my palms firmly into the table. “I want to know what happened to my record. What forced me to leave the Academy?”
She stood up and leaned over the table. “You should get going. My lunch is over in ten. It was nice to see you though. I’ll stop by later so we can finish this little chat.”
I shook my head, removing myself from the table, and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“You should take your questions to Alexander. He’s the one that can answer them. Honestly, I don’t know any more than you. But, if Mrs. Brekner says she has no record of you in her system, then that leads me to believe that you were either kicked out or someone had your records erased.”
“You said you knew me from the Academy,” I retorted.
She sighed and tried to stifle a laugh. “Darling, your brother made you famous. Everyone in the Academy knew you and everything about you. Because of him. Gotta love notoriety.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know where I lived then?”
“Alexander told me.” She tossed the remnants of her lunch into a receptacle then turned to me. “Look, I’ll check into the records thing and see what I can find out. But do yourself a favor and go home. Don’t go looking for things that will get you killed, okay?”
I nodded, only to satisfy her, and watched her walk away. I waited until she was out of sight before I made my way home. The frustration had grown within me. So much so, my feet hit the sidewalk harder and my strides got longer. Before I knew it, I was halfway home. That made everything worse. Getting home quickly was not in my plans. I turned around swiftly to find a park to run laps in, but I slammed into some guy, knocking his coffee all over the front of him.
“Deus damnaret eam!” I paused. Huh. So I can speak Latin, too? Not just understand it?
He casually brushed at his shirt. “Hey now, watch the language.” The corners of his lips hinted at a smile, as though not fazed by the spill. Must not have been that hot.
“You know Latin?” I asked, surprised.
Then I recognized him. More than anyone else in my mysterious past, I knew him, and he most certainly knew me. But how?
“Uh, it sounded pretty harsh. It’s just coffee.” He shrugged, playing it off.
It was extremely difficult not to fall into his eyes. They were the bluest ocean color with specks of silver and gold. His long, dark hair fell in front of them, almost shielding them from me. The sharp angle of his nose and jawline was as though he was carved from stone. Very familiar.
“I know you,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t,” he said too quickly. All humor was gone.
“No, I do. I’m sure of it.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” he said. A crease appeared between his eyebrows.
“I never forget a face,” I retorted. A lie. I couldn’t remember much of anything, but this man… This man I knew.
“That is an incredible talent you have. In that case, we must have passed each other on the street. Sort of like now, only you didn’t dump my coffee down the front of my shirt.”
“No, that’s not it. It doesn’t work that way. You’re really … familiar to me. That’s not something a mere passing by gives. I’m sure I know you, I just don’t know how.” Or
can’t remember.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, but I can’t say that I know you.”
“I’m sure of it.”
He nodded, tossing his cup into the trashcan near us. “Okay, say we do know each other. What would you do next?”
I opened my mouth to answer him, but nothing came out. I smiled. “At least allow me to buy you another coffee and get you a clean shirt.”
“That’s not necessary. Lady’s shirts don’t look that good on me, despite what you may think.” He was back to being the lighthearted fellow I dumped coffee on, before I claimed to know him.
I giggled. “Please. It’s the least I can do, and I’ve had a really crappy day. It would make me feel better.”
He smiled. At the same time, my heart left my chest.
“I’ll take the coffee, but I’m okay without the shirt. I’ve got a jacket, and it zips.” He tugged on the sides for emphasis.
“Thanks,” I said. “Where to?”
He looked around aimlessly. “Uh … know of any good coffee shops around here?”
“I do, actually. There’s this—”
A loud chirping noise emitted from inside of his coat. He chuckled to himself and pulled out his communicator, then answered it. “Yes? Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” My heart sank as I watched him push another button and slip it into his pocket. “Perhaps another time on that coffee?”
“Sure, it sounds like you have something to take care of…”
“Thanks, anyway,” he said, walking away, but not before frowning at the line that marred the side of my face. The wind had blown my hair away from it. I had to learn how to do my hair differently to keep it from being such an easily seen, sour mark.
“Yup,” I said, and I waved as he moved past me.
THIRTEEN
SATURDAY. GAME DAY. TIME for another piece of my memory to fall into place… Hopefully.
I made it to the stadium a little early, hoping for some time to check out the seat listed on the ticket stub my mom gave me and look for a line into the gate that wasn’t half a mile long. Giving up, I slipped into the nearest line and leaned against the chain-link fence that surrounded the stadium. I stood behind a burly man. He seemed rather friendly with everyone. Then he leaned against the fence with me.
“Big fan?” he asked, clearly noting my lack of game day gear.
He was brawny, not burly like my mistaken observation of him from behind. He wore a light jacket in team colors—blue, silver, and white—that made me wonder if muscle didn’t act as an insulator. It was very cold, but that didn’t seem to faze him. His face had one large streak of blue painted in a diagonal. It made his eyes pop in a stone grey color that held specks of blue and green. His hair was light blond and shaved close to his head.
Although this man didn’t seem particularly familiar, I trusted him. There weren’t many people like him around me. Warmth radiated from his friendly smile. A calming and welcoming energy pulsed from him.
I smiled. “This may seem odd, but I don’t really know.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“First game then?”
I shook my head. “I lost my memory in an accident. My mom gave me a ticket stub from a game five years ago that I apparently went to.” I brushed my hair from my temple and let him see the scar that was forming. The stitches had fallen out, leaving a bright pink, puffy line.
He whistled. “That’s a perdy one.”
“Yeah,” I said. “She thought coming here would help me remember something from my past. I just can’t figure out what or how.”
“Did you lose all of your memory?”
I frowned. “Just most of the last six years of my life.”
“And you don’t remember anything at all from that span of time?”
I looked at him, just to gauge and reassess my impressions of him. He was trustworthy and wanted me to know it. I could tell that about him. A gift I have. He gave a subtle nod toward me. I nodded back.
“Most of it I don’t.”
He smiled, as did his eyes. “Well, I’d say you are in for a really exciting game. If you weren’t a fan before now, you most certainly will be by the time this game is over.”
I smiled back. “Yeah, but if I could get more clues to my past, that would be great also.”
“Name’s Blake Harringson.” He held out his hand.
“Elsabetha Ehlers—uh…Ellery. Sorry. You’d think I’d forgotten my name, too.”
He smiled and shrugged, completely judgment withholding. “That’s all right. Sometimes I forget things, too. It’s the nature of our minds.” He pointed to his temple. “So did you come alone, then?”
“I’m meeting someone, actually.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Ha! No. Not in this, or the next, lifetime. He happens to hold some keys to my past. That’s all.”
He nodded and removed himself from the fence as the line moved forward, and thusly, ended our conversation. Once we were through the gate, he pulled me to the side. “I don’t want to alarm you, but the company you’re here for isn’t one you should get too close to. If you get my meaning.”
“So I keep getting told,” I muttered.
“He’s dangerous.” He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to me. A communicator. “Take this. Wait until the first touchdown from the home team, proceed to the concessions on the third level. Tell your friend whatever you need in order to leave alone. I’ll meet you there to explain further. Make sure you’re alone. That’s important if you want to stay safe.”
I nodded, slipping the communicator into my pocket. When he started to walk away, I quickly called out, “Wait a second, Blake.”
He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me, waiting for me to say what I needed.
“How do you know who I’m meeting?”
“Just keep your eyes open, Elsabetha. Your questions will be answered soon.” He disappeared into the crowd.
I made it to the ticket booth where Alexander waited for me. Following him to our seats, I felt the cloud of confusion passing. In its place, anxiety, excitement, and fear took over.
“Are you feeling okay today?” Alexander’s voice buzzed in my ears over the roar of the men in the crowd cheering on the scene below.
I shifted my gaze to him, plastered on a fake smile, and nodded. My attention returned to the pregame antics, also known as the time that half-naked women flung their bodies in synch to some overly loud and high beat music. After the number ended, a loud announcer introduced the players from each team. As the game began, a cheerful roar created by every fan in the stadium vibrated through my body. Even Alexander seemed relaxed, his arm around the back of my seat.
Large digital screens hovered high above the field, magnifying the game and making it easier to see. The opposing team was from Kansas City. The winner of this game would take over the Central District Division and have a chance at the final championships…
Apparently, I liked football a lot more than I remembered.
It was still cold, but comfortable. The wind wasn’t blowing too much and the seats around us were filled up, creating a barrier of body heat. I felt out of place and, at the same time, strangely well at home. The seats we had were close to the one on the stub. We were five rows back, three seats in on section three, which was pretty far back from the field but not the nosebleed section. According to the ticket stub, the seat I wanted to visit was in section one, row eight, seat twenty-three.
The away team had the ball first. It didn’t seem to have any bearing on who could score, because the home team caught the ball and ran it down the field from the thirty-yard line on the opposing team’s side. The run ended with the touchdown I was waiting for. Everyone stood up, cheering the great play.
I turned to Alexander. “I better run to the restroom before it gets too late in the game and the line is too long…”
He glanced at me with his cold, dark stare. The corn
er of his lips pulled into a smirk. “Of course, let me escort you.”
“I’m sure I can make it to the restroom and back without incident.”
“I insist,” he pushed.
“Alexander, I’m not comfortable with you walking me to a restroom like a three-year-old. I’m fine. I’ll be back. Ten minutes, tops.”
He pressed his lips firmly together and nodded, stepping into the aisle to let me through. I felt his attention on my back the entire time. I got the impression of just how dangerous he was, if provoked too much. I would have to walk a delicate line around him.
I kept looking around for someone watching me. I felt their intrusive eyes on me, like the weight of knowing the guillotine is about to fall and there’s nothing you can do about it. Keeping my eyes forward, I glanced at all the signs that pointed me in the right direction. I followed the corridor until the smell filled my nose, then I followed that.
The concessions spanned the outer wall of the stadium, with a line of people trying to beat the half-time rush. Several benches flanked each side of the opposite wall, by the entrance to the stands for that level. I took a seat on the corner and kept an eye out for anyone looking for me.
When my back pressed against the wall, Blake started talking to me from the bench around the corner. I nearly leapt out of my skin.
“I’m here, but don’t look.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, pretending to chew a piece of gum, watching the crowd from the other end of the corridor.
“You were being followed.”
“I know. I tried to shake them but couldn’t.”
“Do you think you can make it home on your own?”
“What? Now?”
“It’s necessary,” he said.
“You do realize that it makes no difference with the company I have?”
“You have a bolt option on your door, don’t cha?”
“Yes.”
“Use it. Now, go home before all Hell breaks loose.”
I started my way home, not stopping until I heard a vibration come from my coat pocket. I pulled out the small communicator. The silver cover had a screen that matched the rest of the device when inactive, making it nearly impossible to tell it was there. As it activated, it became visible, as well as the words … You have one message waiting … scrolling repeatedly.
Made to Forget (Nepherium Novella Series) Page 6