by Elle Scott
I feel those lips—that once touched my cheek, and once touched my shoulder—finally settle where they belong. And then I'm heat and I'm chill all at once, rising and falling like the tide. I clutch his waist and lean in, following every brush his lips make. Slow and purposeful, like he's savouring the taste of every stroke. And that taste is extraordinary and excruciating at the same time, both eternally satisfying but not quite enough.
As a slight breeze fans my back and the sound of long blades thump through the air, I am pulled back into the real world where my feet are wet and time won’t wait for me.
Miles’ hands are stroking my own when he pulls away from me. His face hovers close; eyes shut and lungs breathless. I clutch his shirt and drag him back, he doesn’t fight me, he just lets himself fall. I don’t know how long we kiss for—minutes, hours, years? The only thing I know is that I should have done this sooner because the rest of my life with him won’t be long enough.
‘Hey love-birds, we’re waiting for you!’ Eli’s voice is carried by the wind of the helicopter propellers.
‘Give them time,’ Ladlow says.
We laugh and step out of the river. With my shoes in my left hand, I clasp his hand with my right, Miles kneads my palm with his fingers.
We climb into the helicopter taking our seats, and taking the last moments of time that we have together. Ladlow sits in the front of the helicopter next to the pilot, it's weird not to see Miles in that front seat. He sits next to me instead. Eli is opposite me with his head pressed firm against the window. I tilt my head to do the same, I watch the field shrink as we rise. The silver glow of the river, running timeless below the rows of trees stretching in unison up the mountain. The broken Corridor with its smashed glass casing, becomes hardly visible as it starts to vanish behind tree tops. Tree tops that shade the stories, that shade the fear, that shade the truth. The parched circle where my orb destroyed the Red Orb is only a dot amongst dirt and green grass. And soon, as it disappears out of sight, it will become a patch of earth with secrets only our memories will hold.
One face, Viv’s, gives me multiple memories. Memories of deception and death, silent hurts, and disloyalty. I relive the look on her face as she chose David over Team Alpha and I realise she isn't disloyal at all, she is completely and unequivocally loyal—just not to us. I blink away a tear, I don't know how I feel. Relieved or defeated. My eyes hurt.
Miles must see the sudden change of expression on my face, he leans forward and clutches the inside of my elbow. ‘We'll get her back,’ he says.
The familiar whirl of a portal orb echoes through the helicopter as the pilot sets our course for Australia.
I feel my stomach sink. ‘Will we?’
It wasn't a question, but he answers anyway; ‘Yes!’
I let the tears fall. Relieved, I am definitely relieved.
END
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Acknowledgements
First of all, I want to thank YOU. You may not ever know how much I appreciate the fact that you’ve chosen to read my book. Right now, in this moment, may you see my open heart that’s full of appreciation. I hope you stick around as I bring more worlds to life; I create them for us to live in together.
Family, thank you! For your support, for your belief, for your encouragement, for your patience.
My boys, Joel and Ryan, thank you for putting up with countless moments of, “Just wait a minute, Mummy’s writing.” I don’t just do this for me, I do this for you—to teach you that you can do anything if you put the right energy into it. Use your heart, always. I love you.
An extra special mention to my husband—who must have been frustrated at times, but has never denied me the time to make my dreams come true. I know I am lucky to have you, I don’t think there’s more you can do to show me how much you love me. Love you long time; all the damn time.
Mum, Dad, Susan & James—my safe place to fall. You give me the space to be who I am, I never have to hide with you. I can be myself completely and you never judge me, your unconditional love does not go unnoticed. You have centred me so much during this process.
Renae, sweet sister, I miss you. I wish you could be here to share this moment with me. (I hope you like your birthday present.)
The in-laws, how freaking lucky I am to have scored you? So lucky. (Cate, the Canada setting is for you.)
To the best beta readers (and friends) ever; Alicia, Amber, Fiona, Jacqui, Jasmine, Kirsty, Lisa, and Peta, I couldn’t have asked for a better support crew. Your excitement and belief will stay with me always.
To my fellow writers; thank you for your kinship along this lonely journey.
To my editor, Barbara, wow, your insight has been beyond what I even thought I wanted. I cannot thank you enough for your time and effort on this manuscript.
Thanks to the highly talented Ida from Amygdala Designs for my stunning cover. You brought my vision into existence.
A special mention to Kishka Jensen Photography, for turning awkward me into something presentable.
Finally, a message to present-day me from four-years-ago me, when I decided to follow my dreams… you’re welcome!!
Until the next book …
Elle xxx
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elle Scott lives in the Huon Valley, Tasmania, Australia with her husband, two sons, three cats, and one big ball of fluff, Labrador.
Telling stories has always been a part of her. When she was young, it was her dream to be a famous actress, and she would spend hours playing “make believe” with her sister. Her wild imagination turned everyday moments in life into extraordinary events. A long bus ride became an adventurous trek on the back of a horse galloping on the beach; or days spent in her backyard became days in the African Safari! Her imagination took her from her warm bed into a world where a vault can freeze time and orbs wield special powers. Her biggest thrill is taking her oddball dreams and making them a reality with words.
Elle also tells real stories for real people. She is a multi-award winning family photographer.
Elle hopes to one day run workshops for self-conscious women, to turn them from a wallflower into a wildflower and give them the confidence to chase their dreams with ferocity.
And now, a sneak peek at
ONE
Nora
If I pinch myself, I won’t wake up—because I’m not dreaming, this is reality.
A rush of cold air hits my cheeks and buries itself into my bones. I dart my eyes open and scream.
Under my feet is soil and burned rubble. I’m standing on a large black patch in the middle of a clearing, it’s speckled by small green spots of newborn grass. In front of me about twenty metres away is the Corridor, it hides behind trees—still broken, still holding memories. Memories of betrayal, of loss, of love.
This is the place I saw my orb for the first time. It called to me; its blue-green swirls so mesmerising I couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. When I was told it was made for me, my whole body agreed as though my cells were welcoming it home.
This is the place that once housed a two-story science facility; I’ve relived the moment when this dark patch of dirt was ma
de so many times. A moment of fire and pain and screams. The building was decimated because of a war I never wanted to fight in. Could I have done things differently?
This is the place where I lost Xander, and found Miles; where I lost Viv, but found myself. Would I want things to be different?
The sun is high here, unlike home where I’m supposed to be sleeping—where my orb is supposed to be sitting on my dresser, instead of shining brightly in my hand.
It happens regularly now, my orb taking over like it did when its shield saved my life two months ago. In the moments of memory or stress or physical injury, I feel the sensation as if it were right here in my hand and next thing I know it moves to me. It works for me… instead of because of me.
One time, when I was cooking dinner for my dad and Sarah, I scratched my arm on my jacket zip—the orb rolled down the stairs into the kitchen. It bumped at my feet before jumping into my hand. Before I knew it, the scratch was gone. Another time, I was remembering the day before my mother left, when she took me swimming. I ended up standing on the edge of the local pool. Luckily it was closed and no one saw me appear out of nowhere.
When I’m not conscious of my thoughts the orb scares me, because I don’t think it just calls for me, I think I call for it too.
The very first time it happened was the day I arrived home.
I only had to take one step onto my front porch when the door swung open. As Dad opened his arms wide, all the terror that I had just witnessed dissipated.
I fell into his arms and we became a hot mess of tears and laughter. He brought me inside and introduced me to his wife Sarah. We sat down for hours and I told them everything. How The Uprising lied to all their recruits about Palladium selling the orbs as weapons to the military. How Viv had been a spy for The Uprising; and how they killed Xander and Kate’s parents for information they didn’t have. How I saved everyone at the Base but failed to save those at the Fort. How Miles gave me this crazy amazing miraculous orb, that can only be used by me. How I can make it do whatever I wanted; how I felt I hadn’t even tapped into its fullest potential. As I was talking about the missions we used to do as a Team, before all the fighting began, my voice began to crack. I don’t know whether it was from the need to cry, or because I had talked too much. Whatever the reason for the rasp in my voice, I took it as an excuse to change the subject.
So they showed me wedding photos and talked about how they met on a charity boat cruise dinner for parents who had lost a child; Sarah was the event manager. Apparently, as she was rushing around making sure everything was going without a hitch, she didn’t notice Dad climbing the stairs to the sky lounge. He spilt red wine down the front of her white blouse. Classic move.
When our laughter and tears settled Sarah suggested we go to bed. I glanced at the new clock with no numbers, no frame, and large hands. I guessed it said it was midnight. I looked back to Dad; a hopeful expression and soft smile graced his face. My heart wanted to say, “No, I need to make up for lost time,” yet my body screamed at me to rest.
‘I should sleep.’ I frowned.
‘Of course,’ Dad said, standing up and offering me a hand. ‘We have plenty of time to catch up.’
I took his hand and fell upon his chest once more. I glanced over his shoulder in time to find Sarah joining us, she rested her head on his bicep and her arms on our backs. When Miles told me my dad remarried, I felt betrayed and replaced, but right then in that moment, I felt like maybe I had gotten a new chance at having a real family.
‘Your room is just as you left it.’ A hint of heartache gave an edge to Dad’s voice, and I realised that for so long he thought I was dead.
‘I’m sorry for the pain that I’ve caused,’ I said.
‘That doesn’t matter now. When I heard you were alive, it was the best thing I’ve heard in my whole life! Having you here now, it’s a miracle. I will do anything to help you feel like you belong again.’ Dad wiped the tears from my cheeks, as though he was catching my guilt and diminishing it.
I gave him and Sarah one last squeeze before ascending the stairs and entering my room. He was right, everything was how I left it. My unmade bed, half read magazines on my desk, and all the clothes and shoes I decided not to take to Palladium were scattered across the floor. This room had seen me through everything—as a seven-year-old hiding her emotions with the loss of my mother, as an adolescent hiding evidence of my period, as a seventeen-year-old hiding a boy in my cupboard while my dad sat on my bed and talked about how uncomfortable he was that I wore eyeliner—it was my sanctuary, a safe haven that saw me through heartbreaking losses and monumental wins.
Yet somehow, in the split second it took me to step into the room, it didn’t feel like home anymore. And I wondered, if this doesn’t feel like home anymore, what is my home? Palladium is destroyed. I’ve got nowhere else to be. I brushed my unease off as exhaustion, and expected to feel different in the morning. I made my way to my dresser that I decorated with turquoise picture frames and a dead bamboo plant, and pulled out my favourite winter pyjamas. Purple satin. I peeled my shoes and clothes off and slid my pyjamas on. I stumbled across the hall into the bathroom, and brushed my hair. Dad and Sarah’s voices comforted me as they echoed from his room, their room. The sweet smell of Sarah’s aloe and peppermint face wash made me feel better already.
I went back to my room and as I climbed onto my bed a layer of dust floated upwards. I shook the pillow, more dust. Oh my god, I thought, he could have washed the sheets! I covered my mouth and nose with the inside of my elbow and ripped the bedding off. As I groggily opened the linen cupboard door and swung it towards me, a sharp pain surged from my toe and up into my foot.
‘Ugh,’ I moaned.
Dad leaped out from his room. ‘Are you okay, what’s happening?’
‘I’m fine.’ I winced. ‘I just stubbed my toe on the door. I’m getting new sheets, the other ones are covered in dust.’
Dad’s face dropped. ‘Oh Nora, I’m so sorry I should have thought about that. I only got the call you were coming home this afternoon. I was so excited to see you I didn’t even consider your bed! Here let me—’
‘I’ll do it!’ I said, holding my hand up. ‘It will be good for me to get back into a normal life as soon as possible!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, now go back to bed, I’m fine. Really!’
He blew me a kiss, that I caught and returned, and went back to his room.
I took a deep breath and bent down to inspect my aching toe. I whimpered when I saw a small amount of blood seeping from the end of my nail. I’ve been through worse today, my return here has softened me already, I thought. As I collected new sheets and pillow cases, I heard a thumping noise coming from downstairs. It got louder and louder, like a suitcase was being dragged up the stairs. I dropped the bedding in time to catch my orb as it hurled itself into my hand. Its glow was almost blinding. Then it returned to its slumber and my toe didn’t hurt anymore.
I gathered the bedding and ran into my room, leaning my back against the door to close it. Why did it do that?
I placed the orb on my dresser and took a step back. I need to be normal, I have to be normal. Those first steps inside my home, that first fall into my father’s arms, the first smile Sarah gave me—all made me feel normal again. With the orb though, I’m anything but.
I have tried to not touch my orb since then. When it isn’t flying into my hands of its own accord, it has stayed sitting on my dresser like an ornament.
Now though, as icy wind burns through my flimsy nightwear and I stand at a site of death and pain where the Fort once stood strong, I realise it’s not enough. I can’t even go to sleep without worrying that the orb will take me places I don’t want to be. Surely, I don’t need it anymore?
My feet sink further into blackened dirt. I stand in the spot where the orb saved my life just over two months ago, it’s ironic to think of how much I despise it now. I look to my left at a hill where rows of
trees line up in perfect symmetry. I took a photo of this once; it represented my friends, my team. Now all but torn apart.
Goosebumps freckle up my arms as a puff of white mist exits my mouth.
I transport back to my room, and let the warmth of ducted heating thaw my bones. I throw the orb onto my bed, and pull out a drawer from my desk. I empty the drawer’s contents onto the floor—papers, pens, job applications, a stapler, sticky-tape, a few hair pins. If anyone saw me right now they’d think I was crazy, sometimes I think I probably am. When the drawer is empty I place it back in its runner. I kneel on my bed and thrash my pillow until it slides out of its case. I grab the orb and drop it in, rolling it up safe inside. I drop the pillow case with the orb into the empty drawer and slam it shut. I begin to tape it shut. I use the full roll.
Then, I crawl back into bed and squeeze my eyes, forcing away any tears that may have formed.
‘Nora?’ my dad calls from downstairs. ‘Would you like breakfast before your job interview?’
Dammit.
TWO
Nora
The white folder dances along with the twitching of my legs underneath it. I'm nervous. I haven't felt like this since I sent my resumé to Palladium after reading their vague job description for a journalist. I'm not surprised they ended up hiring someone like me with such little experience, anyone else may have been able to figure out what was really going on before it was too late. And now I do have experience, I can't exactly write those credentials on this resumé can I? It feels like I'm starting over.