Shadows Within (The Dark Mind Trilogy Book 2)

by Matthew Goldstein

  6

  He was startled out of his train of thought when he noticed Amy right next to him. “Whoa. Hi.”

  “I noticed you space out and I figured something happened,” Amy whispered. “Did you... get one?”

  “I did. But no big deal. Now that I know the consequences of the instructions, I can choose to ignore them. That must be why my mom seems normal.”

  “Can you ignore them? I thought they were important. What was this one about?”

  Crap, she doesn't know my instructions do wrong. Well, might as well have everything out in the open. After everything that's happened, I can trust her. “It was just... y'know, about something bad happening to Travis' mother. The instructions don't always have good consequences.” Close enough to the truth.

  “Hold on,” Amy said, now grave. “Does that mean some of your instructions did bad things before?”

  “Maybe, I don't know. All I can do is work with what I know now.”

  Amy bit her lip and shook her head. “I'm sure it's... No, nothing. Let's play.”

  Cole was afraid of what she might be thinking so he let it drop. They played ping pong, or rather Amy hit the ball to him, and he repeatedly missed. Thankfully, he was saved after only a short time by Martin, who came storming into the room with a few kids tagging behind.

  “Hey, who wants to play some good old-fashioned games?” he said everyone in the room. The pool game stopped and Cole and Amy looked over.

  “What kind of game?” a girl at the pool table said.

  “I was thinking either spin the bottle or truth or dare,” Martin said.

  The girl glanced around the room. “Not spin the bottle.”

  “Truth or dare it is. Who's in?” Martin surveyed the room.

  Three of the four kids at the pool table joined him, and after a moment's delay, the fourth gave in.

  “I'm in,” Amy said.

  Dammit. “Sure,” Cole said.

  “Great.” Martin sat on the floor and the rest followed suit, forming a circle of six boys and four girls. “Oh wait, before we get started, I have a surprise to get this game going.” He sprung back to his feet and ran into the other room while the rest watched in confusion and anticipation. No one said a word until he returned with a black garbage bag that clinked with each step, and placed it on the floor at his spot in the circle.

  “That isn't...” someone said, his face a mask of excitement.

  “It is,” Martin said, reaching into the bag, a huge smile plastered across his face. “And you all get to be the first to have some.”

  Cole remained confused until Martin pulled a bottle of beer out of the bag and twisted off the cap with a pop.

  “I have a limited supply so everyone takes one sip, got it?” Martin said. “No chugging.” Cole's insides seized as Martin handed the bottle to the girl to his left who grabbed it eagerly and took a big swig before passing it to the girl next to her.

  Cole had no experience with alcohol and little knowledge of it beyond the fact that his mother would be horrified were he to drink it. More than that, though, it was the unknown that frightened him. When the second girl had taken a sip, she passed it off to the boy next to her. Cole was next to that boy, and as his turn approached, he grew more apprehensive and indecisive.

  Before he realized it, the bottle was in his hand and he was staring at it like it was an alien creature. Just take a sip. What's the big deal? Everyone else did and they're fine. What's the worst that can happen?

  “What are you waiting for?” someone said. “Hurry it up.”

  “It's just beer,” someone else said.

  There was a brief pause.

  “You don't have to,” Amy said.

  Cole met her eyes. “No, it's fine,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. He put the bottle to his lips and took a sip. The thing he had not anticipated was how terrible it would taste. It was all he could do to swallow and hold in a gag, but he was certain everyone saw the disgusted look on his face. He passed the bottle on to the sound of a couple of chuckles.

  When the bottle reached Amy, she said nothing but passed it along without drinking any. No one said a word about that, nor did anyone laugh.

  Great. Why couldn't she have gone first? Then I could've avoided that humiliation. He was just hoping his face had not turned red from shame.

  When the bottle got back to Martin, he finished it off and dumped it back into the bag with a clang. “All right, now we're ready to play. Who's first?”

  Cole leaned back, wishing he could shrink away, dreading to be a part of the game. He glanced at Amy who was leaning forward expectantly.

  “I'll go first,” Amy said. “Dare.”

  “Are you sure?” Martin said. “You remember what happened at the last party.”

  “Shut up and give me a dare.”

  “All right I'll go easy on you this time. Hmm...”

  Don't say anything about me. Don't say anything about me. Cole closed his eyes, praying the moment would end.

  “I got it,” Martin said. “Give Brandon a lap dance.”

  Brandon's head popped up at the sound of his name.

  “No problem,” Amy said. She slid over to Brandon with exaggerated motions while Brandon sat up expectantly, a goofy smile spreading across his face. There were whoops and cheers from the group as Amy sat on his lap and did a little dance, then turned around, pressed up against him, her arms in the air, and then crawled back to her spot. Cole hadn't realized until it was over that he wasn't breathing.

  “Thanks, Martin,” Brandon said, giving a wink.

  “That was hot,” Martin said. “Okay, Amy, now you get to pick who goes next.”

  Don't pick me. Don't pick me.

  “Brandon.”

  “Ooh, me again. Dare.”

  “I dare you to play the rest of the game in your boxers,” Amy said. “That's for thanking Martin.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Brandon said as he stripped off his pants. “Just don't look too close.” He threw his pants aside and looked around for the next victim. “Heather.”

  Heather looked at him in irritation. “Dare. But it better not be stupid.”

  Brandon had a wide grin. “I dare you to lift your shirt for ten seconds.”

  “You're a pervert,” she said but she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and lifted it to her neck.

  Cole didn't mean to but he caught himself staring and averted his eyes. This is really awkward. I hope she doesn't think I'm a pervert too.

  After a few seconds, Heather released her shirt. “My turn.” She looked at her friend sitting next to her, who was a girl in Cole's class. “Maria.”

  “Dare, dare.”

  “I dare you...”

  Maria squirmed in anticipation.

  “...to kiss Cole.” At the mention of his name, she started to giggle.

  Cole's whole body froze. He found he had no breath and his face was burning up. His heart was beating so hard it hurt. Maria glanced over at him, and from the expression on her face, he thought he might cry. He fought to sit still.

  “Come on,” Maria said.

  “That's the dare,” Martin said. “You have to.”

  “No, I change to truth. Please let me do truth.”

  “Hey, shut up,” Amy shouted. “That's not funny.”

  “Aw, look, he's all red,” Brandon said.

  By now, Heather was lying on the floor laughing and a few snickers issued from the others. Cole could take it no more. He bolted from the room into the other half of the basement, almost careening into a couple of kids standing there. He had no direction in mind but he stumbled into a bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

  He left the light off and sat on the floor against the far wall. He leaned his head back, breathing deeply, struggling to keep in the tears. Why does everyone still hate me? I thought I was better now. I should never have come. I'll never belong. Despite his best efforts, tears began to stream down his cheeks. He wiped the tears away and closed his eyes, los
t in his abyss of self loathing.

  He was interrupted by the door opening and looked up to see Amy silhouetted in the light outside. He quickly got to his feet. “You can't make it better this time. They all hate me.”

  Amy stepped inside and closed the door, sending them into pitch blackness.

  “You can turn on the light,” Cole said. There was no reply but a moment later he was surprised to feel her breath on his face. “What are you d-”

  “Shut up,” she whispered.

  Her hand found his face in the darkness and then her lips found his. They pressed firmly against him, alighting his soul in a fiery storm of simultaneous excitement and calm, like the eye of a hurricane. Her mouth was sweet and hot, her hand on his face tender to the touch. He returned the kiss with equal intensity, placing his hand behind her head. They pressed their bodies together, their lips pressing harder. They remained there, sharing the moment for a long time, and everything in the world was perfect.

  7

  Meredith rang the bell a third time and turned to Peter. “I know they're home. Sometimes they just take a while to get to the door.”

  Peter grinned playfully. “A little anxious, are we?”

  “Well, yeah aren't you?”

  “Of course, I -”

  He was cut short by the front door swinging open to reveal an aging man with balding white hair, a round face and a plaid shirt. “Were three rings really necessary?” he said. “You know we're slowing down.”

  “Daddy!” Meredith shouted, throwing her arms around him in an affectionate embrace.

  When she released him, his eyes turned to Peter, studying him from top to bottom. “So you must be Peter. It's been a while. Come on in, we've got a lot to discuss.” He stepped back to let them inside.

  “You've met me before?” Peter said, perplexed.

  “In due time,” Meredith's father said. “Have a seat at the kitchen table. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Um, no, thanks.”

  Meredith's father led them into the kitchen where her mother, always stern and proper in her old-fashioned dresses and carefully combed white hair, was already seated at the table.

  “Ah, Peter, welcome, sit, sit.” Meredith's mother beckoned to the empty seats.

  As Peter and Meredith sat, Meredith's father came over to the table with a couple of wine glasses and a bottle of wine. “Here, have a drink,” he said, pouring before Peter could refuse.

  “Thanks,” Peter said, too preoccupied to care.

  “Enough suspense,” Meredith said, almost jumping out of her seat. “Mom? Dad? You know Peter from somewhere?”

  Meredith's father took a seat in the last empty chair and folded his hands on the table. “Sue, why don't you go ahead? You know more than anyone.”

  “All right.” Meredith's mother smoothed her hair nervously. “So I take it you haven't talked to Peter's parents?”

  “No, they're on vacation,” Peter said. “Great timing, right?”

  “Indeed.” Meredith's mother gave a half smile. “Well, here goes. Yes I know you. I knew your parents well. In fact, my parents knew your mother's parents and my grandparents knew her parents and so forth for as many generations as I know about. Our two families have a connection and thus have been close for a very long time, collaborating to help people. In every generation the firstborn child is born with our abilities.”

  “I don't understand, though,” Meredith said. “Beth is older than me. Why do I have it then?”

  “I've asked myself that same question a million times.”

  “All right, so if our two families have always worked together, then why have I never heard of this or met Peter?”

  “Unfortunately, his mother and I didn't see eye to eye and we decided to go our separate ways. But him sitting here is proof that our families cannot remain separated forever. Still, I think it best if you two did your best to stay away from each other.”

  “What?” Meredith was beside herself. “No. How can you say that? Why not?”

  “I don't know how our ancestors did it but it led to nothing but trouble for Peter's mother and me. It is best to keep your distance.”

  Peter was silent, his eyes flicking back and forth between Meredith and her mother.

  Meredith was not so quiet. “You can't just say something like that without a good reason. What kind of trouble?”

  “I am your mother,” Meredith's mother said in a calm voice. “Do as I say.”

  Meredith sprang to her feet. “I'm not a little kid anymore. You can't give me orders. Come on, Peter. We're leaving.” She strode out of the kitchen.

  Peter whispered an awkward word of thanks and hurried out of the house after Meredith. He caught up with her as she reached her car. They got in and Meredith drove away, tires screeching on the pavement.

  After a few seconds, Peter found his voice. “What was that all about?”

  Meredith took a deep breath, feeling foolish for the childish outburst in front Peter. “Sorry you had to see that. Sometimes she can just be so... Never mind. I don't know why she doesn't want us to see each other, but unless she gives me a good reason, that's obviously not going to happen.”

  “I don't want to get in the middle of you and your mother.”

  “Don't be stupid. She's my mother. She'll come around. She's just being her usual unreasonable self. I'm not passing up this opportunity to learn about our ability.”

  “I will admit I am fairly curious myself. Maybe my mom will have better answers for us.”

  “Hopefully, because I can't go back there for a while.”

  * * *

  Present Day – Three Months Later

  “Order. Order. Quiet down.” The judge banged his gavel on the stand and the audience hushed. “Thank you. You may continue.”

  “Did Terry Praeda aim a weapon at Amy and you?” the prosecutor said.

  Cole stared at the lawyer with wide eyes. His leg trembled and his throat was parched. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. After clearing his throat, he tried again. “Yes.”

  To break the lawyer's gaze, he glanced around the courtroom. Travis' mother, Terry Praeda, leaned forward in her seat, her bloodshot eyes watering. A nasty scar ran the length of her face, a testament to that awful night when she was hit by Dr. Stern's car.

  “And what were her exact words?” the prosecutor continued.

  Cole gulped, his attention refocusing on the lawyer. “'One shot through them both and we can put this whole mess behind us'.”

  “Thank you, Cole. And what happened the first time she tried to shoot you?”

  Cole closed his eyes, the scene replaying on loop in his mind. “She was about to shoot Amy when Travis interfered. I didn't see exactly what happened but next thing I know there was a gunshot and Travis fell to the ground.”

  The prosecutor opened his mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted by Travis' mother bursting into tears, shuddering violently. The courtroom was silent, allowing her a moment to compose herself. Despite all that had happened, Cole could not help feeling a strong sympathy for her. Unable to watch her, his eyes wandered. Most people in the room sat staring at Travis' mother, a solemn look on their faces. The only exception appeared to be Cole and the defense attorney, who took the moment to shuffle his papers. Cole looked to Amy who was seated next to his mom in the spectator section, but she was a statue, and did not seem to notice.

  This was the beginning stages of Travis' mother's trial of the murder of her son and the attempted murder of Cole and Amy. The two hours it had been going on that day had been the most distressing experience of Cole's life. At the same time that he prayed she would be sentenced to life in prison, the pity he felt at her despair was tearing him up inside. Now he was on the stand and had to talk about that night in front of dozens of people.

  He ran a hand down his shirt to smooth it, a nervous habit he had developed. His mom, Amy, and he had dressed in their best clothes for the occasion, Amy in a new white blouse and k
nee length black skirt. None of them had talked about today even though they knew it had been coming for weeks. Cole was the first of them to be called to the stand and he knew Amy was dreading this as much as he had. Now that he was actually up there, with everyone staring at him, it was even worse than he had imagined.

  It had taken almost four months for a trial, and all that time Cole kept hoping it would not come to this, that she would plead guilty to everything and the trial would be avoided. Somehow, though, it seemed that her defense attorney had convinced her to plead not guilty to the charges of attempted murder and the intentional murder of her son. She had altered parts of the story to make it sound like her only crime had been concealment of a weapon, and with Dr. Stern missing, it was Cole and Amy's word against hers. Some other witnesses had heard the gunshots but none had seen the events well enough to give an accurate account.

  Now that the tears had stopped flowing, Travis' mother sniffed and sat up. Cole could swear her eyes briefly flashed in anger in his direction, her scarred face creating a nightmarish image and sending a jolt of fear through his body. Please lock her up.

  “I'm sorry,” she said to her lawyer. “I don't care what you said. I don't want to do this.”

  Her lawyer froze and the struggle to maintain calm was apparent on his face. “Don't start this again. Not here. We'll figure it out later.”

  “No.” Travis' mother's voice was stronger. “I plead guilty to everything. Yes, I killed my son by accident and yes, I tried to kill those two over there for reasons no one could understand. I can't explain any of it to anyone and I'm not going to try. I plead guilty to whatever you want to charge me with.”

  “Terry,” the defense attorney said, in a flat voice. “Think about what you're saying. We discussed this.”