Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1)

by Lynn Vroman

  By the end of the day, Zander’s temper flared. He snapped at anyone who stumbled into his path and left without asking about seeing him outside of school. He didn’t even try to kiss me. As strange as it sounded, as soon as he was gone the fuzz disappeared like clouds after a storm.

  I collected my backpack, Zander already forgotten, when Coach Stump cornered me. “Tulman, we’ve got a problem.”

  My stomach dropped. “Problem?”

  He pulled his ball cap lower on his forehead. “I know what I told you about not coming this week, but some kids don’t find it fair, seeing as how they’re working their tails off to get a starting position.”

  Damn. “Well, I told you there’s some stuff going on at home, Coach. And…come on. You know I don’t need tryouts to prove myself. I belong on the team.”

  “Yeah, I know, but the other girls have a point. Favoritism and all that.” His face looked pained, as though he were suffering from constipation. “I’ll give you today, but if you don’t show tomorrow, I’m gonna have to keep you off the team.”

  Not good. If I didn’t get on the team, I wouldn’t have a shot at having any real future. I’d be stuck in this town, probably working for Jake the rest of my life–if I survived longer than until next week. The decision was simple. “Okay, yeah, I’ll be there.”

  Relief softened his face, and he slapped me on the back. “Thatta girl, Tulman.”

  I leaned against my locker while he walked away, yelling at some kids who were making out by their lockers.

  Catching a break shouldn’t be so damn hard.

  Lena

  After we parked the car at Wilma’s, I waited until the bus pulled up before climbing out and following the herd down the graveled hill.

  The urge to head for the woods pulled the hand of my courage when Dad blocked the door. He sat on his cement stoop, smoking a cigarette while giving every passing kid a sneer. I stood right in front of him.

  He didn’t even look at me. “Godless little demons. Someday they’ll answer for it.”

  Whatever “it” was…

  “Yeah, I’m sure they will.” I walked around him and opened the door.

  As soon as it closed, I had a hard time picking between flipping out and falling to my knees in tears.

  The whole place had what looked like tornado debris scattered through the main rooms, the major disaster being Mom’s romance novels, shredded and strewn all over the living room. Splintered legs from the dining room table littered the threadbare carpet, with one leg sticking through the broken kitchen window. All the meager contents in the refrigerator spilled out onto the faded linoleum floor.

  I had no idea where all the other trash came from, but there, in the kitchen, scrubbing at some molded stuff coloring the floor, was my mother.

  “Mom?”

  She looked up, the dullness letting me know she really wasn’t there, with a fresh bruise swelling her cheek. “We need to get the filth out.”

  “Get up.” When she ignored me, I pulled her to her feet. “Don’t do this. Don’t let him do this.”

  Clarity washed over her face. She held out her dirty hands, tears flooding her eyes. “He’s going to kill us.”

  On cue, Dad slammed the front door, his voice a low growl. “You need to repent, Jacie. Reading that pornography in my house…bringing the devil in here.” He shoved her to her knees, and she continued to scrub the mold, her eyes glazing over.

  He turned to me, his face twisted and ugly. “Where’re your clothes at, peanut?” The way he said peanut as if the word were battery acid, made me forget my promise not to be afraid anymore.

  “They’re… What?”

  “You heard me.” He kept leering at me while Mom scrubbed the same spot over and over.

  Trying to fake disinterest, I walked into my room to find the bed stripped and the mirror busted all over the mattress. He was right behind me, his stale breath turning my stomach.

  I swallowed the vomit rushing from my throat. “They’re right here.” I opened my closet and pulled out a bag with Jake’s present, which also held my sweatshirts and underwear. There wasn’t much there, but hopefully he’d be satisfied.

  He wasn’t. “Where’re the rest of them.”

  “I used Wilma’s machine.” I almost gagged when the vomit demanded release.

  He watched me for a minute then slid a hand down the side of my face before wrapping it around my neck. Every nerve in my body came alive.

  So this is what it felt like when you knew you were going to die.

  There wasn’t much pressure on my throat, though. A warning shot, I guess. “You get them back, you hear? We don’t need no one’s charity.”

  “Yeah, okay.” The pressure of his hand was just enough to prevent me from swallowing.

  “Clean this mess up.” He let go and slicked back his greasy hair before grabbing the doorknob. “There ain’t no dinner tonight, punishment for your mother’s pornography.”

  As soon as the door closed, I pushed in the knob until the lock clicked, hoping it’d be enough to keep him out, but knowing otherwise. I sat on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths, trying to staunch the fear threatening a full-blown panic attack.

  Then the mattress moved, stretching and lengthening until it lapped over the wooded edge. Instead of intensifying the terror that bastard induced, it soothed my pulsating heart and overzealous nervous system. I didn’t move from the side of the bed as the mattress skimmed my leg. The slight tugs from the rubber grappled at my side as it tried to pull me in, not much strength behind the effort.

  The movement stopped after a few minutes when the sloshing and gripping rubber failed to provoke me. After the water-filled animal grew docile, I began to pick the shards of mirror off the bed, smiling. The trick was no longer a secret, giving me strength.

  I dumped my clothes from the bag and replaced them with the mess I’d just picked up, shifting my attention toward the bed. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  By the time nine o’clock rolled around, the house was silent. Without dinner, there wasn’t much for Dad to do but go to bed.

  Mom came in to check on me, and she looked delicate, as if one good hit would break her apart. Her appearance set me on edge. I didn’t know how much longer her body could handle whatever controlled her. Hopefully, she’d be strong enough for a couple more days.

  When the tapping on my window came that night, I opened it, pushed out the screen, and tried to drag him in myself.

  “Wait…Lena…just back up, okay?” He hopped in, more graceful without my help, and scanned my trashed room. “What happened?”

  “My dad, that’s what happened.” I tried to whisper, but after seeing Mom, my voice sounded borderline hysterical. “Something’s definitely controlling them.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed, his face taking on that faraway look that said a long bout of contemplation was coming.

  I wasn’t in the mood to watch him mull over a question for an hour. “Well? You better have something because the damn bed tried to pull me in again.”

  He grabbed my hand, dragging me on his lap. “How did you stop it?”

  Pushing off, I paced the small space between the bed and the window. My hand ran through my hair so many times, it stuck out everywhere. “How do you think? I didn’t let fear take over. I do listen when people talk, for Christ’s sakes.”

  “All right, calm down. We–”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down. My mom acts like a damn zombie, and Dad’s worse sober than he ever was drunk. And let’s not forget my bed keeps trying to suck me in.” I stopped in front of him. “How about you try to be more, I don’t know, excited? Ah, less calm, maybe?”

  “We’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t stop yelling.” His voice stayed at a whisper, though it sparked with agitation.

  I held up my hands, wanting to keep the fight going, but the pity on his face, the same pitying frown I’d always given Mom when she pan
icked, had the right effect. With a huff, I plopped beside him. “Okay, just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Again, the only thing I can come up with is persuasion.”

  I shrugged, trying really hard not to punch him in the arm when he paused again. “So why aren’t they trying to control me?”

  He hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees. “Persuasion won’t work on you, just the telepathy, you know, people talking in your head.”

  Talking in my–

  “A voice! I heard a voice like four times, twice when the bed started acting crazy.” I slapped my forehead. “How the hell did I forget that?”

  His eyes grew cold. “Man or woman?”

  “A…ah, man. Definitely a man.” I snorted. “His voice was actually pleasant.”

  “Whoever’s helping is strong.” His knee started to bounce. “Shit.”

  “Can’t you counter it? With your…skills?”

  His knee bounced faster. “Sorry, not that strong. I don’t have telekinetic and telepathic abilities.”

  I put a hand on his leg, stilling it. “All I know is that I need to get out of here.” I looked up to find him watching me. “You can help now, get involved?”

  He took my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “Damn right.”

  My fingers tightened around his. “We’re leaving, then. Soon.”

  “I’ll talk to Wilma while you’re in school, let her know what’s going on. We’ll leave tomorrow night.” He hesitated. “Lena, I can’t hurt your… father. It’s not him doing all this. You understand, right?”

  “Yeah, whatever. I’m not looking to hurt him; I just want to get the hell outta here–with Mom. And about school, I need to go to tryouts tomorrow. It’s gonna piss him off, but I think after today I can manage the fear.”

  He nodded and began the new ritual of massaging my palm.

  Hmm, or maybe it was an old one? Wow, way too much to process if I thought about it hard enough.

  “You were always pretty fast,” he said, his mouth curving in a grin.

  I nudged his leg. “But not faster than you, right?”

  His dimples decided to come out, melting the tension in my shoulders. “Right.”

  Lena

  Tryouts. The one silver lining in the week. The place I remembered who I was, what I wanted. It wasn’t dimensions, another life…It was this.

  I blew everyone away in the 100 and 400. I even took a shot at hurdles, coming in third in the 110 and fourth in the 60. I’d never been great at jumping, and my form sucked. Stump always yelled about it every time I attempted.

  My teammates for the past four years, Jenn, Stacie, and Connie–we were all encouraging each other. The friends I had neglected since Zander came into my life welcomed me back into the fold without questions or accusations. The wolf pack we’d always called ourselves. Stupid. Awesome. Perfect.

  Coach told us to keep an eye out for posted results on Monday, three whole days of waiting, but he winked on the way to the locker rooms, and said, “Nice running, Tulman.”

  Same thing he’d repeated four years running.

  I collected my stuff from the field and promised my pack I’d be in touch.

  Belva caught my attention. She sat in the bleachers with her hood up and earbuds in. I waved, thinking she’d brush me off, but when she held her hand up, I smiled.

  School turned out pretty good, too, considering everything going on. Zander even decided not to act like an asshole, especially after I’d told him Wilma went on vacation after he asked about her. Weird, for sure. He barely ever talked to her.

  Grinning like an idiot, I cut across the field to the student parking lot. Tarek waited, standing in front of the passenger door. My excitement drained when I noticed the frown straining his face.

  “What did Wilma say?” All that went through my mind was no one controlled Mom but my crazy father.

  He opened the door but didn’t speak until both of us were in the car and on the way home. “I couldn’t open a portal.”

  “What does that mean?” My voice came out thin and airy.

  “Someone’s blocking me.”

  “Who? Wilma? She wouldn’t do that.”

  He smacked the steering wheel. “Who else would do it?” He took a deep breath and glanced my way. “Only two people know I’m here, and she’s done it before.”

  “Are you sure only two people know?” The fear I had controlled so well began to curl its fingers inside my chest.

  “Shit, I guess not.”

  Regardless of who knew he was here, his revelation meant one thing: I had to deal with whatever Dad had in store alone. I slowed my breathing. “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

  “You’re not going to handle anything. Not alone, anyway. Give me a couple hours. I’ll try a few more times. If I still can’t get through, screw it. I have all the proof I need. You’re leaving. Tonight.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Dad sat in his usual spot, flicking ashes in the mud puddle mote surrounding all the trailers. It hadn’t rained since Friday night, but the area held water better than the public pool in Stroudsburg. Whatever caught his attention on the ground must’ve been more interesting than me because he didn’t look up when I stood right in front of him. He moved to block me when I tried to go around, not letting me in, either.

  He took another drag of his cigarette. On the exhale, I smelled more than nicotine. His wrinkled and faded black flannel had dark splotches spattered on the front. Whatever the spots were, they were wet. “Where’ve you been, girl?”

  The blood drained from my face, making my lips numb. “I had detention.”

  His eyes didn’t meet mine as he flicked the half-smoked cigarette in the puddle and went inside, leaving the door open. On shaky legs, I followed, closing the door behind me.

  Before I took my hand off the knob, pain landed on my cheek, hot and fierce. “You lying whore!” His spit smacked the back of my neck, spraying the tips of my ears.

  Words refused to form as pain triggered hot tears. When the punch to my side dropped me to the floor and the kick to the stomach stole my air, fear managed to find a solid grip.

  “You were with that boy, weren’t you? That rich kid stick his thing in you, did he?” Another sneaker to the stomach and I groped for oxygen.

  “Or were you screwing that pervert staying at Wilma’s?” This time, he took his foot and pushed me away from the door. “Yeah, I know about him. Everybody knows about him, sneaking in your window at night.”

  Pain twisted through my entire body, making it hard to breathe, much less talk. The longer I went without answering, the harder his kicks were to my ribcage.

  “She told me about your little plan.” He knelt, gripped what he could of my short hair, and yanked my head up so that I faced Mom.

  She sat in her chair, face unrecognizable. Her swollen eyes tried to focus and her split lips bled like crazy–the source of the wetness dousing Dad’s shirt. Her mouth moved, and all I heard was, “Sorry.”

  Dad’s grip tightened on my hair as he directed his attention to Mom. “Shut up, bitch. Traitor! Whore!”

  He went after her, and her arms blocked her face as she whimpered. More willpower than strength, I hugged my body around his legs, causing him to fall. It didn’t take long for him to scramble to his feet to kick me again.

  He hunkered down, his rotten breath burning the hairs in my nose. “You ain’t going nowhere.” His wet lips touched my earlobe. “And neither is your mom.”

  The last thing I remembered before fainting was the terror on Mom’s face when Dad managed to give her that smack after all.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “Lena. Lena, wake up. Please wake up, sweetie.”

  The black reprieve lifted. Pain scorched my ribs, my stomach. Metallic blood lingered in my mouth. My eyes opened.

  Mom’s mangled face looked like it belonged in a Picasso.

  Shit.

  All that came out of my dry throat were groans as I tried to get mysel
f on all fours.

  “You need to get up, honey, he’ll be back soon.” She lifted me by my armpits, her strength surprising. I clung to her, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her arms until the pain went away. When I moved to do just that, her voice became hard. “No, we have to go. Now. Get up.”

  The force she used gave me the drive to push off the floor. I couldn’t stand straight. The bruises refused to let me. I settled for doubling over, holding my gut in case it planned to spill on the floor. “Where’d he go?”

  She guided us the few feet to the door. “I don’t know, but we’re not staying for round two.”

  “How long,” I swallowed some of the blood pooling at the back of my throat as we climbed down the cement stairs, “have I been out?”

  “A few minutes, maybe? He left as soon as you passed out. I think it scared him.”

  “Doubt it.”

  We headed up the hill, sweat dripping into my eyes with the effort. “Are you there, Mom? I mean, are you all there?”

  A small sob escaped her bloated lips. “I have no idea what happened. One minute, I’m thinking everything’s normal.” Bitterness dripped on the edges of her words. “I actually felt…something for that bastard. And then, our plan spewed out.”

  Whoever wanted me scared must’ve amped up their efforts. Had to admit, it worked.

  “It’s okay, Mom.”

  She squeezed my side, the pain excruciating, but I didn’t let her know. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. He–”

  “Where you think you’re goin’?” He followed a couple feet behind us, laughing at our pathetic attempt at running. Doors shut and windows closed. Parents shooed kids indoors. We were the lone gunslingers left at the O.K. Corral.

  I signaled for Mom to keep walking and tried to pick up the pace.

  “How far you think you’re gonna get?” He walked up right behind us and stood so close I could smell him: stale sweat, decaying breath…our blood.

  White-hot pain seared my scalp.

  “Leave her alone!” Mom clawed at his hand, but he easily shoved her to the ground, dragging me back into the house. She scrambled to her feet and followed, yelling for help. Of course no one answered.