by Ava Delany
Dark Daze
By
Ava Delany
On Dec 21, 2012, at 2:12 pm, the sky went dark all over the world, and people's lives changed in ways they feared to admit. Thousands died in accidents while others claimed to have seen demons and found themselves locked up in their local psychiatric ward. Scientists explained away the phenomenon, and things seemed to return to normal.
After a decade of trying to conceal a power she never expected or wanted, Brie Duval was used to being alone. When life—or more appropriately, a meddling friend, sends her on a blind date with Ian Connors, she discovers she wasn't the only person to gain powers that day.
They find themselves falling in love while on the run from a creature with eyes that suck in light and a force that controls their wills, but Brie can't help but fear their love is a side effect of the menace. In order to survive, they must put aside their fears and embrace the gifts they've fought so hard to deny.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Ava Delany
Cover design by Ava Delany
Edited by Silke Juppenlatz
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Ava Delany
www.AvaDelany.webs.com
Acknowledgments
To my editor, who made this story the best it could be.
To my wonderful critters, for all your help in this project.
As always, to my family. I love you.
The End
Dec 21, 2012
The beautiful redhead on the screen led a bound, masked blonde by a leash.
Rolling her eyes at the wooden walls of the cabin, Brie Duval crossed her legs, shaking her foot convulsively. A half-naked man grabbed the redhead and kissed her to the harsh and jarring music.
Brie huffed and leaned across the couch to snatch the remote from her brother’s hand. “My turn.”
“No!” Roge jerked it away.
“Come on. You’ve been watching those stupid music videos for hours. It’s my turn. Mom, tell him it’s my turn.”
“It hasn’t been hours.” Roge held the controller above his head and leaned back along the length of the couch. “Besides, if you weren’t such a baby, you might appreciate music videos.”
“I’m fourteen. Last time I checked, I was only two years younger than you. And it has been hours. You turned it on at noon while we ate lunch, and now it’s ten after two. That’s more than two hours.” She stretched, grabbing for the remote.
Her finger grazed the buttons. The television clicked. “—next, News at Two interviews a historian who—”
“Give it, you tard,” Brie said.
Click. “—you sexy freak. You want it this way—”
“Not likely.” Roge hid the remote behind his back.
“Would you two stop fighting?” Her mother huffed. “You two argue all the time lately. It’s not good for your inner selves.”
“That’s because his inner self turned into a doofus.” Brie reached around Roge, grappling for the remote.
Click. “—historic day, the end of the Mayan calendar. Mayans claimed today marks a great change th—”
Click. “—screaming for it all—”
“I’ve had enough of this.” Her father stormed to where they wrestled for control, the lines around his eyes and forehead deepening, and snatched the remote from Roge’s hand. “No more of this brainless box. We came out here for peace and quiet. To enjoy the beauty of life and get in touch with our own inner natures. Not to watch inane shows and exchange verbal blows, which, I might add, leave bruises that don’t heal.”
He hit a button and the television went black.
Her father’s laugh lines had faded lately, replaced by those awful worry lines. Brie sat back and gazed up at him. “Sorry, Dad. We’re ruining the vacation. He can watch the videos. I won’t complain.”
Roge held out his hand, smirking.
“No.” Her father set the remote on the top of the ancient wood-paneled television set. “We’re going to spend some time together. Karen, get the Monopoly.”
Her mother turned and grabbed the old family pastime.
“No way! That’s lame.” Roge’s wide eyes shifted toward their mother, then back to their father. “She said she doesn’t care, so why can’t I watch what I want?”
“I work hard all week, pay for this rental, and keep this family’s chi in flow. And, while I don’t want to inhibit you, I do want to play a game.” Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “And I know you never hear this from me, but to borrow a phrase from my own father, you’ll do it because I damn well said so, young man.”
“This is so not fair.” Roge shoved to his feet. “You can’t make me. I’m going for a walk!”
The door slammed behind him, and Brie flinched.
Her mother moved to her father’s side and rubbed his arm. “Let him go, John. He has to visualize his self or he will never grow.”
Brie tried not to roll her eyes. Her parent’s parenting style might be unusual, but they tried their best.
“Come on, Dad.” Brie smiled and took the Monopoly game from her mother’s hand. “Let me show you what it feels like to spend a night in my upscale Park Place hotel. We’ve recently upgraded several suites.”
Her father stared at the door for another instant, then blinked. His features smoothed as his gaze met hers, and he pressed a hand to his chest. “My own daughter is letting corporate America take her over.”
“You’re just afraid you’ll lose.” She laughed.
He smiled. “Oh, you think you can win, do you?”
“You know it.” She opened the box and stepped up to the table.
“Well, I get to be the money bag.” Her father grabbed a chair, and the legs scraped along the wooden floor.
“Like in real life?” Brie asked, and her mother laughed.
She lifted the board from the box. Out of the blue, the room warmed uncomfortably then went pitch black. Brie dropped the game and jumped back. Her leg bumped into the couch and she stumbled to right herself.
“Brie? John?” Her mother cried somewhere nearby. “I think I’ve gone blind.”
“It’s okay Karen. It’s probably just a tripped fuse or something.” Her father’s voice came from the dark. “I’ll find the fuse box.”
“A tripped fuse? But it’s two twelve in the afternoon. And it’s dark outside.” Brie reached down and ran her hand along the puffy back of the couch, then swung her open palms through the air until one slammed into solid wood. She slid her fingers down the grainy surface to the smooth metal of the doorknob and turned it.
No noise, no light, just darkness. Not the normal gloom of a moonless evening, or even the dark of a solar eclipse, but an unnatural, light-sucking black, as impenetrable as ink.
“What’s going on, John? What’s happening?” Her mother’s voice rose when the door hit the doorstop with a loud reverberating boing, but the room didn’t light up.
“I don’t know. Maybe today is special. They’ve been talking nonsense about the world ending and planetary alignment and all sorts of things all week, but no one mentioned this.”
“The world’s not ending, is it? It can’t be. The government makes up those stories to control the masses, don’t they?” Her mother’s voice held an edge of hysteria.
The
cool afternoon breeze didn’t chill Brie’s heated skin, even when she leaned out the door to look around at the nothing. “No, the planetary alignment thing is just this one guy’s theory or something, and all the talk about the world ending can’t be true.” Brie’s stomach turned over as she spoke the words, but she had to help her mother. “They talked about it in school. It’s nothing but the end of some calendar from an old society who probably never thought they’d live long enough to see it.”
“Exactly.” Her father said. “This must be a solar eclipse.”
“Yes. Dad’s right.” Brie didn’t mention how she couldn’t even see the outline of the sun, or how a solar eclipse wouldn’t affect interior lights, because the idea seemed to be calming her mother.
“I’m sure he is,” her mother’s voice trembled, “but none of this matters right now. Roge is out there by the lake in this blackness. He can’t see where he’s going. If he trips or falls—”
“Calm down, my love, I’ll go get him.” A loud thump and groan signaled her father’s movement. A metallic click rang out in the quiet. “The flashlight isn’t working. Did you replace the batteries?”
“Monday morning when we got here. Who cares about that? Just find my baby.” Her mother’s voice grew shriller with each passing second.
The crash of breaking glass and another bang, and her father brushed past her.
“I’m hot. Can I go outside?”
“Brie Duval, don’t you dare move an inch. I want you in here so I know exactly where you are.”
A soft scratching, followed by a pop, and her mother’s hand lit. She cupped the match she held, and walked to a nearby candle.
“Take this,” her mother said, but when they turned to the door, her father was gone.
“The air conditioner must be broken,” Brie said as her mother closed the door.
“It’s not even on.” Her mother let out a shaky breath and paced to the window. “Oh, my boy.” Instead of shrill, now her voice became dull and monotone. “It’s too cold for the air conditioner.”
The room blurred, and Brie closed her eyes then opened them again, trying to clear her vision.
“Come on. Find him.” Her mother clasped her hands together in front of her, eyeing the sinister darkness beyond. “Find him, please.”
Brie fanned herself. “Mom, can I please go outside? I’m really hot.”
“It’s cold. Besides, your father will be back any moment.” Her mother’s gaze never left the window. “You’ll see. Any second he will walk up with your brother in tow.” She wrung her hands, her voice increasing in pitch again. “Yes, I think I see them now.”
Despite the chill her mother claimed to feel, Brie was stifling. Her face flamed and her stomach heaved. The room spun.
“Oh, that boy—”
“I’m gonna hack if I don’t get outta here, Mom.” She covered her mouth as another heave doubled her over.
“Brie, would you just—” Her mother met her gaze and her face paled. At Brie’s side in an instant, her mother placed a hand on her forehead. “Oh my—”
“I feel kinda…” A low sting started in her head just above her spine.
“Sit down.”
What was happening?
“Brie, sit—”
Her vision flipped upside down. Furniture hung over her head, ceiling tiles seemed to line the floor. Then everything folded. Her mother’s eyes and mouth sat atop each other. Furniture rested on ceiling tiles. Just as the two melded, the room slid away, and her mind went with it.
She floated through the nothing, unable to move, then she was looking out at the lake. At the same time, it didn’t seem like her. The world around her felt foreign. Even she herself seemed foreign, like she was too tall.
She tried to close her eyes, but they didn’t close. She wanted to turn her head, look around, but nothing happened. She didn’t have control over any of her movements…or over the body she was in. Was it her body? Something inside told her the answer was no.
“Roge, come inside now!” Her father called from somewhere nearby.
Not gonna happen, Dad. Her brother’s voice came through the unnatural stillness, startling her. It almost seemed to be inside her head.
Was he nearby as well? Why didn’t he want to come inside? Was he hot too? But she wasn’t hot anymore. She couldn’t feel anything. Her head moved without her permission, but the world was abysmally black no matter where she looked. She couldn’t even see her body, if it was hers. A rending sound made her head move, again out of her control.
Roge? Mom? Dad? She tried to say the words, but nothing came out.
Pure light ripped the sky open, letting a flash of bright white through the immense black. Something shimmered in the fissure. A dark form fluttered at its center, breaking through the sky with a loud crack. Her body moved back a step, stumbled, and fell.
“Oh shit.” The curse formed on her lips, but her brother’s voice came out.
Her head hit something hard, a rock perhaps, and snapped forward. There was no pain, but she saw her body…no, her brother’s body as she fell.
Is this Roge’s body? But how could that be?
Then she realized she knew things…He’d broken her doll when she was five—the one he’d sworn he never touched, he’d stolen a kiss from Jenny Engelmann two weeks ago and two hundred dollars from their father’s wallet this morning.
Brie’s vision blurred. Her hands lifted to wipe her eyes, and blood covered the calloused male fingers she held up. She swayed, her eyes closed, and she fell. Her head slammed into the rock with a nauseating wet sound this time.
Pain like a hammer smashed through her brain. At the same moment, faster than it had gone, the cabin came back.
“Brie!” Her mother knelt beside her, cheeks wet. “Oh, my baby!”
Her mother rubbed a cool cloth across Brie’s face where the flesh burned again.
“Mom?” Brie blinked. “I just had the strangest dream about—”
“Roge!” Her father’s scream came from the night beyond the closed door. “Oh God, Roge. No!”
Her mother stood and ran to the door, throwing it, and the screen, open. The wood frame hit the side of the house with a sickening thud.
“What’s wrong, John?” Her mother put a hand to her forehead, blocking out the intense light coming in from a growing breach in the dark sky. “Is Roge—”
Brie struggled to her feet as her mother teetered and fell. It couldn’t be true. Roge wasn’t dead. Brie’s stomach whirled, like a carnival ride, and threatened to make her lose her lunch. She clenched her jaw to calm the churning.
Her father stepped through the door—his eyes red-rimmed and his mouth slack. Her sixteen-year-old brother lay cradled in her father’s arm, limp as a sleeping baby, but his pale face dripping vivid torrents of red. Brie dropped to her knees, and her stomach won the battle.
Chapter One
Dec 21, 2022
Brie plucked a newspaper from the open distribution box and let the lid slam shut. The headline, Amazing New Technology Could Make Your Car Obsolete, had drawn her attention. The story beneath said “Scientists are on the verge of an amazing breakthrough. Travel by particle redistribution—”
“Seriously? When are they going to realize the connection?” Brie looked around and folded the paper. The world had seen so many advances in ten short years, and no one wanted to admit it might be unusual. That perhaps some people’s intelligence might have increased at exponential rates since Dark Day, as her father’s had.
Just like the vivid pain of her experience ten years before had faded, so too had the stories. Tales of Dark Day—as the media had named it—started on page one of every newspaper. A “Dark Day” - Thousands upon thousands dead or institutionalized during horrible worldwide blackout. Soon they were relegated to back pages. Astronomers and Astrophysicists argue over cause of “Dark Day” phenomenon. A few years later, they disappeared from the newspaper altogether. Now the tabloids were the only remaining pro
of something unusual had happened. Local woman claims her dog talks to her ever since her harrowing Dark Day experience. Even those articles had nearly stopped.
Too bad her experiences hadn’t. She still found herself trapped in the minds of relative strangers. And she still had nightmares about her brother’s death. She sighed and tossed the newspaper into the passenger seat of her car.
Perk Up, a funky café near her home, hosted an assortment of chairs in different colors and shapes. Unusual pictures, clocks, and all manner of eclectic and colorful items lined cheery yellow walls. On any other day, this would be a welcome sight, but today—
“Heyya Brie.” The pimple-faced teen waved from behind the counter. At twenty-four, she wasn’t old enough to be his mother, but she could be his much older sister. Brie had been a bit chunky since her brother died, and while she might not get the attention a supermodel did, she could do without Todd watching her. So awkward—almost like your little brother having a crush on you.
Yuck.
Everything taken into account, he was a nice kid though. She smiled, trying not to show her fatigue, or the pain which had been throbbing in her psychic spot since she’d awoken. “Hi, Todd.”
She ordered a low fat Mocha Latte, her winter usual. Todd had memorized it early on, and handed it to her as soon as she asked. She gave him what she hoped was a warm grin as she grabbed the offered drink, ignoring the way he’d positioned the cup so her fingers would have to touch his to take it. She grabbed her i-com and sat in a chair shaped like a hand.
“Let me clean up for you.” Her admirer rushed over with a wet cloth, rubbing down the table.
“Thank you, Todd.”
ETA? she texted Mandy.
Todd stared at her, the all but forgotten cloth moving in slow circles over the table. A painful tugging sensation, her psychic twinge as her mother called it, filled her head again. She glanced away to hide her wince from the young man’s scrutiny. Living with her twinge wasn’t always easy. Especially when others started asking about her unusual behavior.