Submerge (Apalala Clan Book 3)

by Dzintra Sullivan

  “What if it wasn’t?” Kylee replied with trepidation.

  “A dream?” Doug asked when Jo nodded slightly. “Are you bonkers, too?”

  Kylee shook her head. She decided to go The Full Monty with this girl. Doug needed to know she wasn’t alone in this, and that others knew, too. “I’ve seen them.”

  “Kylee,” Jo growled. “V isn’t going to like this.”

  “V can kiss my ass. Since when are you concerned with what V likes or dislikes?” Flicking her head to her pseudo twin she said, “I’m not talking about anyone else but me, just me.”

  Jo’s arms went in the air. “He can’t kill me. I’m blood… you, however?”

  “V won’t hurt me.” Kylee looked back to Doug who was presently displaying signs of panic, and she could see she was having the very real need to run away. “Nah, don’t stress. Jo’s just joking.” She looked pointedly at Jo. “Aren’t you?”

  Jo shrugged. “Not my funeral,” Jo grunted loudly as Kylee’s foot connected with his shin. He bent down to rub it, growling, “Joking, yeah, whatever.”

  “You’ve seen them?” Doug asked Kylee.

  “Unfortunately, yes, up close and personal even. It was the scariest shit I’ve ever seen in my entire life. That even includes Jo when he hasn’t eaten.” Her eyes went wide as she mocked her friend.

  “You sure you two aren’t together?”

  Kylee laughed. “He wishes,” she scoffed. “It would be like sleeping with my brother. Jo is my best friend. That’s all.”

  “I am?” Jo rubbed his shin again. “Glad I’m not your worst enemy.”

  “You wouldn’t know if you were, you’d be dead.” Kylee flashed a grin at him that made him grin. Turning her attention back to Doug, she asked seriously, “I need you to tell me exactly what you saw. Please?”

  “That’s it, though, I didn’t see anything.”

  “You didn’t?” Jo said as he leaned forward. “Then why are we here?”

  “Charlie saw them. I sprung him from the fuzz when he decided to go in there and enlighten Aberdeen’s finest with the news of six-foot-tall men who turned into birds,” Doug explained. “They just assumed he was mad and gave him to me.”

  “Can we meet Charlie? Please tell me he isn’t the four-legged male in your life?” Kylee giggled nervously.

  “Nah, that’s Quil, my cat. Charlie is a friend I pass on the way home every night. If you can give me twenty minutes to close up shop, I’ll introduce you to him.”

  “Perfect,” Kylee said.

  “Thanks,” Jo added.

  “Don’t thank me yet. Charlie doesn’t like strangers.”

  “Can I ask one more thing?” Jo said as Doug looked back at him with a sigh that clearly expressed he was treading on thin ice with her. “Why Doug? You said it wasn’t your real name.”

  “My name is Elyse Douglas, but everyone calls me Doug. Simple,” she stated with a shrug, and with a spin, she disappeared back to the bar to clean up for the night.

  “Elyse Douglas,” Kylee repeated when Doug was out of earshot. “Text that to Wyvern, so he can see what pops up.” Jo nodded and busied his fingers with his cell phone.

  “Elyse and Ladon,” Kylee said again. “Sounds perfect.”

  “She’s going to break him in two and leave him to die.” Jo smiled.

  “Yep.”

  Elyse opened her door to a black fur ball running out to wrap around her legs. Charlie hadn’t been there, so she had told Kylee and Jo she would promise to look for him tomorrow. They protested, but she shut them down quickly. It had been the long day that had turned into an even longer night. She wanted to go home, wash off the day’s stress and settle in to play some Warcraft.

  As she stepped in, she saw a small white envelope on the floor. It had been slipped under the door while she was at work. Quil was weaving incessantly between her legs, so she picked up the envelope and walked into the kitchen, tossing it along with her bag, keys, and water bottle onto the bench. She turned and grabbed the spoiled cat’s food and attended to her furry man’s needs.

  After he was satisfied, she walked over and picked up the plain white envelope. Turning it over in her fingers, she couldn’t see any indication of what it was about or who it was from. Grabbing a knife from the drawer, she slid it into the corner and sliced across the top. Pinching the ends together, so it self-opened slightly, she peered inside. A small cardboard square was there, so she tipped the envelope, and it fell onto the benchtop. Written on the card was some simple script.

  We failed your parents,

  we won’t fail you too.

  They are coming for you.

  Call us immediately.

  555-0100

  The words ended with a phone number that didn’t appear local. She turned the card over, but there was nothing else written on it. Just the four lines of neatly written ink, plus a phone number.

  “Immediately?” she muttered. “Not really one for demands.” She tossed the paper in the bin. She barely remembered her parents as it was. Why would some cryptic note about people she didn’t think about concern her? Grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge, she then walked over and flopped on the sofa. Flipping open the laptop was the last thing she remembered.

  The crash of a trash can caused my heart to race. Looking around frantically, I couldn’t see anyone in the darkened night’s air. This was my fourth night on the streets, and while I had managed to get some food from the dumpster behind Roy’s market, the cold chill in the air was intensifying each night.

  Walking back up under the bridge where I’d taken cover, I had managed to grab half a loaf of bread that looked okay, plus a couple of bruised bananas. It wasn’t perfect, but I needed to live.

  “What’s your name, kid?” I jumped as the dark, masculine voice came from where I’d sat the past couple nights.

  “I don’t… I don’t…” The shivering of my teeth caused my words to stutter. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Your name?” he repeated.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew I didn’t want anyone looking for me.

  “You deaf or dumb, kid?” his voice growled.

  “Doug,” I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. It’s part of my last name, so it wasn’t really a lie. Was it?

  “Doug,” he repeated with a nod. “I won’t hurt you, kid, just wanted to know who was sitting in my space.”

  “I’m sorry.” I shivered and wrapped my arms around my chest. “I’ll go somewhere else. I’m new—”

  “Stay.” He spoke with command. “At least here with me, you won’t get taken advantage off. Lots of creepers out there ready to pounce on a kid like you.”

  “How do I know you’re not one, too?” I spoke with a sudden burst of bravery.

  “You don’t,” he stated calmly. “But I’ll trade you a blanket for one of those bananas?”

  Looking down at my hands, a loaf of bread in one hand and two bananas in the other. I raise my eyes to look at this stranger who was offering warmth in exchange for food. With trepidation, I walked further up the side of the bridge, looking at the man as I got closer. He had kind eyes as I held out the bananas. “You can have both.”

  “Sweet.” He grinned as he tossed a blanket at my feet. Swooping it up quickly, I flicked it like a cape and wrapped it tightly around me. The funky smell was worth the warmth it was providing me.

  “What’s your name?” I asked as I sat next to him.

  “Charlie,” he replied between mouthfuls of banana.

  “Is it okay if I just go back there and sleep?”

  Charlie nodded. “I’ll keep you safe, kid. Promise.” Something about the way he said it felt right to me. I didn’t know him, nor did I have any reason to trust him. But at this moment, this second of time, I trusted him explicitly. Getting to my knees, I crawled back to where the wall met the bridge. This small gap provided the best protection from the weather. Lying down, I brought my knees to my chest, the blanket wrapped aroun
d me as the tears fell silently to the cold stone floor. I just wanted to wake up and find out this was all a dream—that my parents were still alive and waiting for me at home with fresh milk and cookies. My breath hitched before I had a chance to quieten it.

  Charlie’s head turned slightly as he heard me. “It’s okay, kid. You’ll get used to it,” he murmured on the night’s air.

  I didn’t want to get used to this.

  I wanted to go home.

  I wanted my mommy.

  Tightening my grip around my knees, I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted to myself.

  I want to forget.

  I want to forget.

  I want to forget.

  Elyse woke to the water bottle falling off her chest and onto the floor. It was still the middle of the night as she sat up, disorientated by the dream she’d just experienced. Bringing her hand to her face, she felt the wetness on her cheeks. Silent tears that had been falling along with her younger dream self. Elyse’s breath hitched as she felt the coal-black ache, deep in her heart. The weight of her sadness was threatening to pull her down into a bottomless pit of desperation.

  Elyse tried to stand, but the boney fingers of despair tightened around her throat, making her breathing start to falter. Pulling hard against the invisible restraints, her eyes widened with growing panic as her mind caught up with what was happening. Falling back into the sofa, she relented her defeat.

  The waves of clarity began to wash over her, only broken up by ones of inconsolable grief. She laid flat on her back as she watched her life on replay. Everything she couldn’t remember earlier that day she now saw in the most heartbreaking detail.

  She could remember the crash. The smell of the rain on that dark night. She could remember the screech of a bird just seconds before the screech of her father’s tires. Elyse could remember clearly the feeling of her body flying through the broken windshield before hitting the ground heavily. She could remember the lifeless stare on her mother’s face as she hung upside down in her crumpled car.

  Elyse couldn’t move as the thick, heavy blanket of despair covered her entirely.

  The entire night played out like a horror movie right before her eyes.

  Why was it now, some fifteen years later, that her mind decided to remember every tiny detail of such a horrific night? Something made her head turn toward the kitchen. On the bench, she could just barely make out the small pointed corner of the cardboard which was now resting on the benchtop, not in the bin where she’d tossed it earlier.

  Her face contorted as she fought the tears now flowing freely as she felt the fresh loss of her parents’ death.

  Rolling off the sofa, she crawled along the floor. Every movement was forced and caused her physical pain. Reaching up slowly, her fingertip flicked the corner, and she collapsed to the floor along with the cardboard that had floated down alongside her. Using every ounce of energy she had left, Elyse held her phone in one hand and the paper in the other. Dialing the number, she listened to the woman’s voice as it answered, “Hello, Elyse, we have been expecting your call.”

  The sound of pain that escaped from her lips was that of a nine-year-old’s agony at having just witnessed her parents’ murder.

  “Elyse Douglas’ parents died in a horrific car crash on September 14th. It was ruled accidental due to the rain and slippery conditions on that fateful night.” Wyvern was reporting what he had found out about the woman in question.

  “You don’t sound like you buy it,” V said. He had become very good at picking up the signs from his brothers, of underlying thoughts and concerns. It was one of the things that made him such a good leader.

  “I don’t,” Vern said firmly. “And I’ll tell you why.” It was just him and V in the room, so he felt he could speak freely without causing Ladon any added stress. “Three people in the car, two were killed instantly, and one small, frail child is thrown through a windshield onto the road surface and walks away without a single mark.” He looked at V earnestly. “Not a single mark. Seriously, there are photos. Not even a scratch. It’s impossible.”

  Volos looked at the photographs Vern has passed to him. They were of a small child who was clean of any damage. His frown deepened as he flicked to the next picture that was of a car on its roof, the entire front end smashed in like it had hit something stationary and strong. “Tree?”

  Wyvern shook his head. “Look at the next photo, it’s an open road. Nothing but grass fields. The most they could have done was run into a ditch, but that wouldn’t have—”

  “Ending up with them on their roof still in the middle of the road,” V finished the sentence for Wyvern.

  “Exactly.”

  “Another car?” V suggested as he kept flicking through the photographs.

  “None mentioned. No paint scrapes on their car that would indicate such a thing. It’s like something, or someone, appeared in the middle of the road. Took the full-frontal hit, and left them there to die,” Vern said quietly.

  Volos placed the pictures on his desk as he leaned back into his chair. “This doesn’t make any sense.” Steepling his fingertips, he then said, “What did you find out about the Douglas’ before their untimely death?”

  “They were a middle-class family, lived in a small house, just the three of them. They didn’t live lavishly because of the amount of travel they did.” Wyvern read from his notes, “Travel seemed to be a big part of their job.”

  “Salespeople?” V asked.

  Wyvern squinted with a small shake of his head. “I don’t think so. I can’t find any records of sales under their names if that means anything. I guess it could have been done under the table.”

  “Bootleggers?”

  “I guess anything is possible. I can find travel records that put them all around the world over a large period of time. They didn’t stay too long in one place. It certainly doesn’t seem to be holiday motivated. It has a work vibe to it.”

  “Did they take Elyse with them?”

  “The travel documents go back way before her, but from her birth and on, yes. She was there on all of their trips.” Vern wasn’t able to find a clear logic to the history these records were showing, and that bothered him a great deal.

  “Why take the kid on work stuff? Were there no grandparents?” V asked.

  “No,” Vern said. “All passed on before Elyse was born.”

  “All of them? That’s odd.” V took in the information. “I could see one or two of them being passed, but all of them? Either there’s more to this story, or they genetically have a shit lifespan.”

  “Not genetic-based deaths. All accidents,” Vern said.

  “You’re bullshitting me, Vern.” V sat up and leaned forward.

  Wyvern shrugged. “I wish I were, but genetics haven’t played a part in these early deaths. All have been recorded as accidents.”

  Volos shook his head vehemently. “No family has that much bad luck. Surely.”

  Vern turned as Kylee and Jo walked into the office. It was very late, and most of the clan were fast asleep. They were just getting back from talking to Elyse.

  “Good job on getting her real name, Jo. We were able to get some information right away.”

  “You’re welcome. But the thanks will need to go to Kylee, not me.” Jo shrugged nonchalantly. “Doug doesn’t like me much.”

  “Once again, I saved your royal scaled asses.” Kylee laughed. “You guys need lessons in dealing with women. His demanding nature nearly got us both kicked out.” Tilting her head toward Jo, she looked at V with a grin. “My effer-fucking-vescent personality wins out again.”

  “Never doubted you for a moment, Kylee.” V nodded as he leaned back once more in his chair. “What did you find out?”

  “She didn’t see the birdmen herself. This was a guy named Charlie. We did try to meet him tonight, but apparently he wasn’t where he normally is.” V frowned, so Kylee expanded, “He’s homeless. Doug took us to his usual haunt, but he wasn’t there. She promis
ed if we came back tomorrow, she would look for him. I also found out that since that night when Charlie saw the flappers, she’s had nightmares about man-size birds.”

  “Nightmares?” Wyvern jotted down notes on his clipboard.

  Kylee nodded. “She seemed really freaked about it, too. That was until I…” she looked at Jo.

  “Don’t look at me.” He held up his hands, pleading the fifth. “I warned you, now you have to pay the piper, or in this case, bear the dragon’s wrath.”

  “What did you do?” V’s spine straightened as the energy changed in the room from confident to borderline catastrophic.

  “I… she… well… fuck. The poor girl was scared out of her panties,” Kylee defended her actions.

  “What did you do?” V spoke slower so as to emphasize his thinning patience at being made to wait for information he’d asked for.

  “I told her I’d seen the birdmen.”

  Volos’ power blew through the room like a tsunami as he stood, shoving the heavy desk which moved easily under his immense strength. “You did what?”

  Kylee visibly recoiled with each word V spoke. It wasn’t that V yelled, but the power that flew out was like being slapped repeatedly in the face with a solid stone mallet. “I told her—”

  Volos turned his back as he picked up his chair and launched it against the wall, the wood splintering against the cold, impenetrable stone walls. As he slowly turned around, his eyes locked onto Kylee’s. V was as close to losing his temper as she’d ever seen.

  “I’m s… sorry…” For once, Kylee’s words were shaky.

  “V, settle down.” Jo stepped up beside Kylee.

  Volos’ head flicked to his brother. “You let her do this?”

  Kylee’s head straightened as she heard V’s word choices. “Let me?” Her hips swung out as she placed her hands on them. “I don’t need anyone’s permission for anything.”

  “That’s it, though, Kylee,” V bellowed. “You fucking do! This is my family, my clan, my people, and if your inability to follow my rules causes them to be put in any danger whatsoever, I will—”