Thankfully, Tiera and Natalie bounded out of the large, open doorways that met the street just after the crowd received the signal to cross, so they didn’t have to shove anyone out of their way. As she ran toward the scene she had fled from last night, Tiera’s nerves itched with anxiety. All of the questions she had been ignoring began to finally surface. They wouldn’t have any cops watching the area, would they? I’d bet Goldsmith’s bodyguard gave some sort of description of me—am I a wanted person? Did he believe me when I told him I had nothing to do with it?
Tiera was only a few yards away from the two figures now—close enough to see how strange their clothing looked. She couldn’t tell what the fabric was made of, nor could she read the word-like markings on their padded backs. They were almost at the street corner now, so Tiera prepared herself to turn—they couldn’t cross the street with all that traffic ahead.
They crossed the street with all that traffic ahead.
Tires screeched and horns honked as the oncoming traffic dodged the two men—who looked over their shoulders with surprised expressions. Luckily nobody crashed.
What are they doing?! What did they expect to happen?! Tiera and Natalie skidded to a halt, and Tiera watched the cars for the safest opportunity to cross the street.
Before Tiera could find a wide enough gap in the traffic to run through, a bright, red flare tore her eyes from the street. It rose several stories into the air, just above the skyline—but it wasn’t like any flare Tiera had seen before. There was no smoke trail, and its light was steady—not at all like the flickering light Tiera had seen in movies.
Tiera quickly looked down, sure that this strange flare had come from those two strange men. Traffic had stopped as drivers strained their necks to look through their windshields and at the flare above them, so Tiera had a clear view of the other side of the street.
A circular portion of air just next to the wall of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building undulated with ribbons of white light, and Tiera thought she saw a clean, bright room through those ribbons. Tiera ran past the motionless cars in the street and toward what she saw—and what no one else seemed to notice. The men in white weren’t on the street anymore, but Tiera thought she saw something moving inside those ribbons, streaking across the circle. Or is it a sphere?
Before Tiera even made it across the street, the odd sphere vanished. In its place was the same mangled blue postal box as the night before—though maybe a little more mangled—and a few orange cones that were probably placed there to keep pedestrians away from the box’s sharper edges.
They’re gone. Just like last time. Tiera looked around. Traffic was slowly starting to pick back up; the flare must have vanished when the sphere had, so none of the drivers had anything to stare at anymore. The closest pedestrians to Tiera on this side of the street were about half a block away, so Tiera may have been the only person to see the sphere. Just like last time.
“Tiera!” Natalie shouted from across the street. She waved at Tiera, then pointed vaguely in the direction of The Cheesecake Factory.
Tiera rolled her eyes, and started toward the nearest crosswalk—but she stepped on something. Lifting her foot, Tiera saw a small dark something on the pavement. Since the streetlights weren’t too bright in this particular spot, she bent down for a closer look.
“Oh!” It was a little screw, its head painted blue, just like the one Tiera saw on the window ledge last night. Looking up at the blue postal box, Tiera realized where it must have come from. Maybe that’s what broke the window, too. She figured if something was strong enough to warp a postal box like that, it probably sent those screws flying with a considerable amount of force.
“Tiera!” Natalie’s shout shook Tiera from her thoughts—she sounded a little more impatient this time.
Tiera pocketed the blue-headed screw and stood up. “I’m coming!” she shouted back at her, then half-jogged toward the crosswalk. Her muscles didn’t like that. I am definitely not a runner.
Pulling out her phone idly as she waited for the little white crosswalk man to light up, Tiera realized why Natalie was so impatient—they only had ten minutes left before their wait time at the restaurant was up.
A loud beeping noise announced that it was safe to cross the street. Tiera looked up for confirmation. The white man says walk—I’d better do it, Tiera thought sarcastically, putting her phone back into her purse. Still thinking about what she had just experienced, Tiera noticed that it was around this same time last night that she saw the light blob—or sphere—for the first time. Is that a coincidence?
Natalie was waiting for Tiera at the end of the crosswalk. “Come on! They said about 30 minutes—they could have already passed us!” she complained, grabbing Tiera by the hand and towing her toward the mall. “And what was that about anyway? Who were those guys? And where did they go? I lost track of them after that firework thing.”
“I’m not really sure,” Tiera said, her voice uneven from Natalie’s pulling. “Oh my gosh, can I have my hand back, please? I’ll just run with you!” Tiera jerked her hand away from Natalie’s and rubbed it, then started jogging at an impatient look from Natalie. Natalie was always a few steps ahead of her though.
“If you don’t know them, why did you feel the need to chase them for two blocks?” Natalie gave Tiera a skeptical look from over her shoulder.
“I—well,” Tiera wasn’t sure what to say. She looked around at the shops as they reentered the mall, trying to decide how much to tell her. How can I best phrase “I saw them disappear into a light blob last night” without sounding like a total lunatic?
“Do you not want to talk about it?” Natalie took on a careful tone—one she usually used when they talked about something that made Tiera particularly anxious.
“No, it’s not an anxiety thing—not exactly—it’s just hard to describe. I’ll tell you about it once we’re waiting for our food.” Tiera figured that would be enough time for her to come up with an explanation.
“Okay, sure,” Natalie said simply. They were almost to the outdoor space that separated the rest of the mall’s shops from its restaurants at that point, so it only took them a few more minutes to get to The Cheesecake Factory.
After entering the restaurant, Natalie didn’t waste any time as she barreled through the patrons waiting for their tables. Tiera followed her, apologizing for her whenever anyone looked particularly offended, until they reached the maître d at his podium.
“Hi! Sorry. I’m Natalie—from earlier. Party of two, yeah. How much time is left on our wait?”
“Uh.” The maître d was a stocky kid—probably 19 or so—wearing all black dress clothes. He looked at the man in line Natalie had just interrupted, who shrugged his consent, before checking his list. “Oh! I just called your name, actually. If you could wait right here your server will be with you shortly.”
“Thanks!” Natalie said, and we stepped aside. Within a few seconds, a middle-aged server sporting an auburn pixie cut appeared, holding two menus.
“Natalie, party of two?” she asked, looking between me and Natalie for confirmation.
“That’s us!” Natalie said cheerily, and with that we were whisked away to our booth in the back of the restaurant—a window seat.
“Can I get you an appetizer or anything to drink to start you off?”
“Water,” Tiera said, hoping her frugality would balance out what she knew Natalie was about to do.
“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper and your sampler platter, thanks!” Natalie looked at Tiera, daring her to disagree. “And it’ll be one check.”
Their server raised her eyebrows at Tiera, but Tiera didn’t refute anything, so she just smiled at them. “It’ll be right out,” she said, then left.
“The appetizer was for making me run, in case you were wondering,” Natalie sassed.
“I didn’t make you run. You—”
“I wasn’t going to wait here when you’re the one who’s paying! I didn’t know if you were coming ba
ck!” Natalie countered, correctly predicting Tiera’s argument.
“Okay fine, what’s an extra ten dollars? It’s not like I have anyone else to spend it on.” Tiera meant it as a joke, but then she realized it sounded really sad. “I mean, I’m a strong independent black woman who don’t need no man!”
“Well you are,” Natalie pointed out.
“True,” Tiera agreed, opening her menu. “But seriously, why is it so hard for a black girl to get a date in Utah?”
“Have you tried being social?” Natalie teased.
“Hey! I’m the victim here, remember?” Tiera said, cracking a smile as she turned a page, looking for the entrees. “But you’re kind of right,” she ceded. “I could probably try—”
“Tiera?” Natalie interrupted.
“What?”
“I think you’re avoiding telling me why you chased down those two weirdos.”
“Essentially, yeah.”
“So are you going to tell me or not?” Natalie asked patiently.
“Fine.” Tiera sighed and put down her menu. She knew she was going to order the orange chicken anyway. She almost always did. “Do you at least know what you want already?”
“The salmon, since I’m not paying for it. And I’ll take my potatoes mashed.” Natalie put her menu on top of Tiera’s. “Now spill.”
Tiera took a deep breath, then filled Natalie in on what had happened the night before, from when she entered the bathroom to running away; she even mentioned her suspicion that the mailbox screw broke the window. Tiera’s anxiety slipped away as she spoke. It felt so good to finally talk to someone about it—and it made her fears of being in trouble with the cops seem silly in retrospect.
“You ran away?” Natalie asked, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, I started having a panic attack, and—well, I couldn’t help it.”
“That’s alright and all, but did you go down to get a better look? What if they were just hiding somewhere? They could have been weird magicians or something—I’m not saying magic is real; I’m just saying it could have been smoke and mirrors and all that.”
Tiera’s face felt hot, and she slumped in her seat. “I didn’t think of that.”
“That’s okay!” Natalie said quickly, in a clear attempt to make Tiera feel better.
“Oh!” Tiera sat up suddenly. How could I forget? “But I did investigate—sort of—just now!”
“But it was last ni—”
“No, no, no—it happened again! I don’t think you saw it though; you were looking at the red flare.”
“You mean that firework thing?”
“Yeah—though it wasn’t burning the way a firework or a flare would,” Tiera added before getting back on topic. “Anyway, another light blob sphere thing showed up right where the last one did. And I—” Tiera faltered, suddenly unsure of herself. “I think I saw them in it.”
“In it?” Natalie sounded confused. “Like, did you see them holding a projector or flashlights or something?”
“No,” Tiera shook her head. “No, it was almost like there was a room there too. Like I was looking into a window.”
“Well the Joseph Smith Memorial Building has windows,” Natalie suggested.
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Tiera started, but then she saw their server approaching. Tiera strained against the silence that passed as they waited for the woman to walk the short distance to their table. She wanted to explain herself further. I should have taken a picture or something. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Here you go!” she announced, setting their sampler platter and drinks on the table with a couple of small plates. “Are you ladies ready to order?”
Natalie was already shoving the platter’s breaded shrimp into her face, so Tiera decided to order first. When the exchange was over and the server had left their table, Tiera tried to pick the conversation back up again.
“I wish you could have just seen it. It’s too hard to explain,” she said, sticking her fork into a chicken wing and putting it on her plate.
“Yeah,” Natalie puffed through a mouthful of spring roll. “And I’m not calling you crazy—I know you saw what you saw—but, I mean, is it possible that the stress of your panic attack made you hallucinate or something?”
“I didn’t have the panic attack till after—it was when the bodyguard started asking me questions,” Tiera clarified. She knew Natalie meant well, but she was starting to get a little annoyed. She was confused about it enough already without Natalie’s doubts. But what if it she’s right? Tiera determined there was one way to find out.
“What are you doing tomorrow night? You don’t have a night shift, do you?” she asked.
“No, I haven’t had night shifts since those new nurses came in a few months ago. Seniority rocks!” Natalie emphasized this by biting into a small barbeque chicken leg.
“Well, I noticed that they were here around the same time tonight as they were last night,” Tiera started, hoping Natalie would catch on.
“You think they’ll be back tomorrow?” she guessed. “Like, you wanna do a stakeout?”
“Kind of. It’s not like we’re going to bunker down with binoculars or anything. We could easily do it from across the street—then we’ll be right outside the mall.”
“And you want me to come with you.” Natalie looked down at the onion ring in her fingers, considering. “Can we get ice cream after?”
Tiera let out a surprised laugh. “Sure, but I think you’re starting to abuse my generosity,” she teased.
“I didn’t say you had to pay!” Natalie defended herself, embarrassed. “I just think it would be fun. We haven’t had much roommate bonding time since you started working for the Times.”
“Alright, awesome!” Tiera replied happily. “It's a date!”
“Like a lesbian date?”
“Oh my gosh—a roommate date, Natalie. For the last time, I am not a lesbian,” Tiera complained.
“Well you’re not straight,” Natalie teased, pausing to drink her Dr. Pepper.
Tiera rolled her eyes and tried to suppress her smile. “I told you, I’m—”
“Ace—or demi,” Natalie finished for her. “Whatever. There’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian, you know.”
“I never said there was!”
“Then stop complaining about our lesbian date!”
Their banter continued through most of their meal, and was only interrupted by their server and the food they stuffed into their mouths. Tiera was happy that Natalie would be joining her the next night, but she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be proven right or wrong. As they drove home, Tiera wondered what they would do if she was right.
Would we call the cops? The FBI? They’d probably think we were on drugs. Tiera watched the light bend around the interior of the car as they passed streetlight after streetlight, the shadows stretching, then receding. She and Natalie sat in a full and happy silence most of the way home, and it wasn’t long before Tiera found herself lying awake in bed.
But what if we get pictures? Video? We could prove it. Tiera made a mental note to keep her phone out tomorrow night, then started going through her meditation exercises in an attempt to fall asleep.
Next thing she knew, it was morning.
Chapter 4
“What’s that one say?” Tiera’s mom asked her, pointing to one of the twenty or so boxes that were piled in what would one day be a proper living room.
“Kitchen stuff,” Tiera replied after deciphering her dad’s untidy scrawl. “Now or later?” Tiera looked at her mom, who was wiping her brow with the bottom of the navy blue apron she wore. Sometimes Tiera caught her mom wearing that thing even when she wasn’t working on anything. She just knew it looked good on her—it accentuated her creamy skin tone and made her look more “domestic,” as she put it.
“We might as well do it now—I’m already sweating, aren’t I? Better to do as much as we can.” Tiera’s mom walked over and took the kitchen box, grunting as she did
so. “Ooooh it’s the pots!” she breathed. Tiera responded by grabbing the other end, and they both heaved it to the kitchen.
Tiera had woken up this morning to five texts and a voicemail from her mother, who had wanted help unpacking while her father was at work. Her parents had moved to Daybreak four weeks ago, after her dad got a new job working for Adobe in Lehi. Since their old home was in Ogden—about an hour north of Salt Lake City—Daybreak would be much less of a commute. Plus, as her mom would remind her, it meant they were closer to Tiera as well.
“Do you want to hang these up for me? I’m too short to reach those hooks,” Tiera’s mom motioned from the open box of pots and pans to the hooks above their beautiful new gas stove.
This is the nicest kitchen I think I’ve ever seen, Tiera thought, looking around. She decided to give her mother a hard time. “Sure! But how will you ever take them down to cook?”
“Ha ha,” Tiera’s mom said flatly. “You know they’re more for decoration, anyway. Why else would I just now be unpacking the kitchen?”
It was true; Tiera had seen the heaps of takeout boxes in their garbage can earlier. Her mom couldn’t cook to save her—or anyone else’s—life. All of this effort to look homey for the neighbors.
“Oh, stop judging me. You’ve been giving me that look since your dad and I first brought you home.” Tiera’s mom left the kitchen, probably to grab another box. “Besides,” she half-shouted from the other room, “your brother likes takeout more than anything I could cook him!” She came back toting an open box full of serving spoons, spatulas, etc.
“I love you, Mom,” Tiera responded sweetly.
“I know you do.” Her mother turned to hide what looked like a smile.
Just then, they heard the front door open and close. “Hey, Mom! Is Tiera here already?”
“Speak of the devil,” Tiera’s mom muttered, then shouted, “Yes! We’re in the kitchen! Grab a box and help us unpack!”
Her brother, Samuel, had only been a part of the family for 3 years, even though he was 14. Since their parents couldn’t—or wouldn’t—have any children of their own, she and Samuel were adopted, and, since older children usually have a harder time getting adopted, their parents decided that’s who they wanted to adopt.
Tiera's Earth (Andromeda 9 Book 1) Page 3