Fade to Black: Book One: The Weir Chronicles

by Sue Duff

  “Fate has other plans.” Ian gazed upon her peaceful face with a leaden heart.

  “Fate only pulls elements together,” Galen said. “What happens now is up to you both.”

  Milo’s rants could be heard clear into Ian’s bedroom. The wolf appeared in the doorway then leapt onto his bed.

  “Saxon.” Ian reached out and it licked his hand. The animal lifted his spirits like none other.

  “There’s the hitchhiker,” Patrick said.

  “From what I hear, everyone owes you their lives. Mine most of all.” Ian scratched him between his ears. He held Saxon’s gaze but was disheartened at the emptiness that stared back. “You won’t connect, why?”

  “Perhaps he’s pouting,” Galen said. “Milo has kept him outside since he arrived.”

  “And outside he shall now go,” Milo announced from the doorway. At the sound of the caretaker’s voice, Saxon snarled with eyes full of warning.

  “You may have found someone as stubborn as you, Milo.” Ian laughed but winced and grabbed his side.

  Milo went face-to-face with the animal. “Will you at least take a bath?”

  The wolf sneezed and laid its head on Ian’s legs.

  “I guess that’s your answer,” Galen said.

  “Then it’ll be up to the rest of you to convince it before nightfall or outside becomes permanent.”

  Laughter preceded the twin’s appearance and they opened a channel from the doorway. What’s all the commotion?

  Ian’s vision clouded, and he fell back against the pillows.

  A sharp pain in the center of his chest—surrounded by darkness—a flickering light—bloody hands clutching his chest—its warmth oozing between his fingers. His breaths strained, labored and weak. Ian fought for air and felt his life’s energy slipping away.

  “Patrick, get Dr. Mac,” Galen said.

  “Ian, what is it?” Milo asked.

  It took a second for Ian to pull himself out of the channeling episode. A sharp pain in his side brought clearer thoughts. He looked at the foot of the bed as Dr. Mac rushed in.

  Galen stood in the middle of his and the girl’s triangular field.

  {76}

  Pissed off that Dr. Mac sedated him before he could explain and act upon the channel, Ian stumbled out of bed the second he woke up. The commotion brought the doctor to the doorway.

  Dr. Mac wasn’t happy. In fact, the short man could be downright scary when he had to be. “If you had stitches, they’d be popping out all over the room,” he shouted.

  Ian ignored his rants and struggled with putting on a turtleneck. Frustrated, he waved his hand across himself. The shirt was on snug and warm.

  The old doctor pressed into the doorway, his girth an obstacle for sure. Ian shyfted into the hall but let out a groan and grabbed his side.

  “You asked for that one, lad. You aren’t healed enough to go gallivanting around. That little episode earlier proves it. Get back into the boost.”

  Ian leaned against the wall and took a second to calm his racing thoughts. The channels can be vague, he cautioned himself. Maybe he didn’t see what he thought. “It’s been nearly twenty-four hours. You said it yourself, my bones are completely healed.”

  “But not the soft tissue, that takes longer.”

  “I’m hungry,” Ian lied. He headed down the hall with Dr. Mac following like a loyal guard dog. “I smell Milo’s lasagna.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” Dr. Mac said but didn’t press further. He walked down the stairs with a skeptical eye on Ian’s progress but held out his hand and stopped Ian before they reached the bottom step. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

  “I’m tired of lying in bed.”

  Dr. Mac cleared his throat. “I know about Rayne.”

  Ian would have sworn the blood drained out of his face it grew so cold.

  “I’ll try to help,” Dr. Mac said. “Maybe there’s a way to reverse it.”

  “It makes me sick to think what the Syndrion, or the Duachs would do to her. She’s a threat to all Weir Sars.” Ian gripped the doctor’s sleeve. “I need to be able to trust you, Doc. Her life depends on it. The girls knew not to tell anyone. Not even Patrick knows.”

  Dr. Mac patted Ian’s hand on his arm. “Lad, if I’ve already figured something was askew, Milo’s close behind.”

  They entered the kitchen and the aroma of his favorite meal caused Ian’s stomach to growl. Milo dished out a hearty serving. “There’re rolls in the basket.”

  The warmth of fresh-baked bread brought instant calm. Ian sought comfort in the familiar. “Where’s Galen?”

  “He ate before the others came downstairs. I think he’s outside on the patio,” Milo said.

  “He can’t keep his hands off the book.” Patrick sopped up the last of the sauce with his bread and stuffed it into his mouth. “I swear he’s like a teenager with his first Playboy.”

  Ian looked at the girls. Find Galen, he channeled. Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him wander from the house.

  You need to tell us what’s wrong, Ian.

  I’ll explain when I can.

  The girls rose from the table and cleared their plates. “Thanks, Milo, it was delicious,” Tara said. They left through the back door. Saxon took advantage and slipped inside then settled under the table. If Milo noticed, he didn’t protest.

  “Any word, yet?” Dr. Mac asked.

  “No,” Milo said.

  “I suppose they have their hands full with the disaster in Oregon,” Dr. Mac said.

  “What’s wrong?” Ian asked through the pounding at his temples.

  “No one’s getting back to me about who’s in charge of the install,” Milo said.

  “I can help make calls.” Patrick waved his cell phone.

  Dr. Mac scoffed. “Phone calls and messages can be intercepted. Vortex scrolls always find the intended recipient, no matter where they are.”

  “They’ve got to be close to finishing,” Milo said. “They better not expect dinner at this hour.”

  “As long as we can control the system,” Ian said. “That’s all I care about.”

  “You look a hundred percent better.” Rayne settled in Tara’s vacant seat. Her smile brought soothing warmth to the center of his chest.

  “See, I’m not the invalid you make me out to be,” he said to Dr. Mac.

  Rayne’s cell chimed. “It’s Zoe. She keeps leaving messages.” She touched the screen and held the phone to her ear then wandered away from the table. “Yes, I’m alive. No, I’m all right, really I am.”

  Enemy.

  Ian’s fork froze in front of him. Saxon channeled him with something other than an image, and it slipped into his thoughts as language. What kind of enemy? he responded.

  QualSton.

  The fork plopped onto the mound of tomato-soaked noodles. Ian bolted out of his chair, but an ache in his side told him not to do that again anytime soon. He rushed outside to find an empty patio. Dusk was fast approaching, and the shadows stretched like dark fingers uncurling from the forest’s hand.

  “Galen?” Ian shouted.

  We can’t find him, the girls channeled. Tara disappeared around the side of the house and Mara gestured from down near the lake.

  “Ian, what’s going on?” Milo said. The others had followed him outside.

  When he turned around to answer, the center of his chest turned frigid. “No, not now,” Ian moaned. “Doc, can you use your power?”

  Dr. Mac gave Rayne a guarded look. He leaned in. “Ian, I shouldn’t.”

  “The security system just activated. My core is numb.” He glanced between the men. “Does the frequency affect either of you?”

  “What’s buzzing?” Milo cupped his hand over one ear.

  “A sign that you’re affected,” Ian said.

  Milo held his hand toward a patio chair. After a second, he shook his head. “Mine’s not working.”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Dr. Mac grunted.
<
br />   “Proof you need hearing aids, you old codger,” Milo said.

  Dr. Mac touched the center of Milo’s forehead. Milo smirked when nothing happened. “Mine has been affected as well.”

  Ian pushed past them into the house and grabbed the phone off the wall. Silence. “The landline is dead.”

  “What?” Patrick snatched it from him then checked his own cell.

  “My call with Zoe just got dropped,” Rayne said from across the kitchen.

  “The idiots installed technology they don’t understand,” Milo roared.

  “Or they snipped something by accident,” Dr. Mac said.

  Ian had to think. “Dr. Mac, try sending a vortex message.”

  “To who?” Dr. Mac looked bewildered.

  Ian paused. Protocol was to contact Marcus. Uncertainty bound his tongue.

  “What’s going on, Ian?” Patrick said.

  “I got a channeling episode earlier in the bedroom. Galen was injured. And just now, Saxon channeled me. There may be a Duach Sar on the grounds.”

  “A Duach Sar, here?” Dr. Mac’s face flushed.

  “Is it Ning?” Rayne said and looked at Patrick.

  “Milo, aren’t some old walkie-talkies stored in the garage? The Duach were using them at QualSton when nothing else worked.”

  “I’ll help,” Patrick said and took off with Milo.

  “We can’t find him anywhere,” the twins said appearing in the doorway.

  “Rayne fill them in.” Ian headed to the office and rummaged in the cabinet. When he returned, he spread the topographical map out on the kitchen island and used Milo’s rolls to hold it down. His heart sank deeper in his chest the longer he studied it. “There’re half a dozen paths he could have chosen.” The thought of never taking another stroll with his old friend fueled Ian’s determination. He gritted his teeth and forged ahead. “Tara, Mara, see if you can find the book.”

  A few moments later Patrick and Milo held up two sets of walkie-talkies. The girls returned, but the look on their faces confirmed Ian’s worst fear and his stomach lurched. Galen wasn’t the only thing missing.

  {77}

  Moonlight teased Ian through the trees revealing movement at every turn. He shouted Galen’s name, but the wind erased his desperate cries. Hope that the troops were still nearby and could aid in the search had dwindled the farther Ian ventured north.

  Everyone had spread out, combing as much of the property as their measly numbers could cover and still remain safe from any threat.

  Milo and Dr. Mac stayed behind in search of the jam’s frequency control box. He cursed whoever was in charge of the install for failing to check in with them after the system was turned on. Even if they found it, Ian didn’t know if it could be turned off from a master switch.

  His hand wrapped around the walkie-talkie, the only lifeline left across the vast property. “Milo, come in. Any luck? Over.”

  “It’s like searching for a needle in a haystack. Over.”

  “Get in the truck and search out the perimeter fence boxes next. Maybe they tapped into one of them for the power source. Out.”

  Ian’s temples throbbed with the mounting atmospheric pressure, and he focused on calming. The last thing they needed was a raging storm brought about by his emotional turmoil. He tried not to think of what could happen. They had to reach Galen in time.

  “Why?” his thoughts came alive. Galen’s actions made no sense. “Why risk taking the book away from the house?”

  Saxon had left ahead of the others and Ian searched for a blur of white in the trees. Hurry, Saxon, he channeled. We may not have much time.

  The smell of burnt redwood stopped him cold. He scanned the forest for visual confirmation of what his olfactory senses knew to be true. A hint of orange hues mixed with brilliant yellow pulsed like a lighthouse leading the way from doom to salvation. Ian ran toward the bonfire as though Galen’s life depended on it.

  {78}

  The crashing surf churned Rayne’s stomach every time Patrick veered the Jeep close to the cliff and called out for Galen. When Ian had assigned her and Patrick to search the cliffs, she’d had to excuse herself to throw up in the bathroom. She reemerged a few minutes later and could have kissed him when he held up car keys.

  To her dismay, the crude road hugged the earthen lip. She grabbed the steering wheel every time Patrick’s attention left the road and remained at the cliff’s edge.

  The walkie-talkie spit its static into the air. “Patrick, come in. Over.”

  Patrick threw the Jeep into park and they sat idling. Rayne handed him the walkie-talkie and he fiddled with the controls. “Ian, did you find him?” Silence. He cringed. “Oh, sorry, over.”

  “I followed a stream of smoke. There’s a bonfire just ahead through the trees. The girls are meeting me there now. Over.”

  Rayne grabbed it and pressed the button. “Ian, we’ll meet up with you, over.”

  “No, you two stay where you are. I’ll let you know what we find. Keep looking for the troops, speakers, or a control box. Milo still hasn’t found anything. No sign of intruders? Over.”

  “Nothing,” Rayne said.

  “Stay along the cliffs. You’re both safest there. Out.”

  Rayne let go of the button. “If he’s found something, we really should be closer to be of any help.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Patrick glanced around then shifted out of park. “But he said to stay near the cliff.”

  Patrick kept a foot on the brake and the Jeep crept along the edge.

  She brought a hand up to hide dry heaves. “I need to stretch my legs for a minute.”

  He stopped the car. “Okay.”

  She jumped out and headed away from the cliff, but there wasn’t any vegetation to cover the promising explosion. She stumbled around to the back of the vehicle and gripped her side, gagging on an empty stomach.

  Vertigo slammed into her at the sight of the sheer drop and spurting surf below. She wobbled.

  Patrick caught her and pulled her back from the edge. “Whoa, you okay?”

  She leaned against the Jeep and nodded. Deep breaths couldn’t steady her marathon pulse.

  {79}

  Ian burst into the clearing but came up short at the sight of Sebastian kneeling over Galen’s bloody chest. “No!” He fell to his knees and pressed his hands on the seeping wound. “What happened?”

  “Marcus didn’t return to Oregon with his troops after installing the technology. I came to investigate. I veered off the path to follow the bonfire, hoping to find him here. Instead, Galen was on the ground, bleeding. He told me a Duach Sar struck him down then took off into the trees.”

  The twins emerged from the path with guns drawn. Mara gripped Sebastian by his robe collar. “The Heir needs to shyft him to an emergency room. How do we turn the jam off?”

  “Marcus was supposed to leave a remote control with you,” Sebastian said.

  The girls searched the area. “It’s not here.” Mara grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Milo, we were too late. We need Dr. Mac and the truck now! We’re just south of the northern vortex building. You can’t miss it, there’s a bonfire.”

  “We’ve been following the glow. We’re almost there. Hang on,” he said.

  Tara knelt down next to the old scholar. She gently moved Ian’s hands away and examined the wound. The futility in her eyes stopped the beat of Ian’s heart, and a curtain of tears swept across his vision. He pressed down on Galen’s chest. The warmth of his blood oozed between his fingers.

  “Which way?” Ian said through clenched teeth. Sebastian didn’t answer, and he gripped the Drion’s robe with his bloody hand. “I came from the south, the girls from the east. Which way did you come from? Where would the Duach have gone?”

  Sebastian looked in fear for his life. He pointed with a trembling hand. “West, maybe toward the cliffs?”

  The girls rushed out of the clearing. Sebastian picked himself up and stood. He rubbed his hands on his robes but couldn’t
wash off the blood. “I’ll contact my troops. We’re going to need help.” He rushed out of the clearing.

  Galen’s draining complexion stripped Ian of the last morsel of hope. He gathered the only father he’d ever known into his arms. The old scholar’s eyes fluttered. “Galen, I’m here,” Ian choked.

  “My boy …”

  “Stay with me.” Ian bit down on his tongue to quench the sobs. Tears soaked his cheeks. “You’re not going anywhere. We have many more walks to take, you and I.” He gripped Galen tighter to trap his life inside him as long as possible.

  “Drion,” Galen’s coughed mutterings were incoherent, “did this.”

  Confirmation that a Drion had betrayed them struck like a tsunami. “Which Drion?”

  “The book … you need to know what it says.”

  “Hang on, Galen.”

  “You’re … not safe anymore.” Galen’s hand fell away.

  “Stay with me,” Ian pleaded. He gently rocked, reverting back to the nine-year-old child who didn’t believe he’d ever be safe without this man by his side. “Don’t leave me, Galen. I can’t lose you, not again.”

  Galen grew still in Ian’s embrace with his last words barely above a whisper. “No place I’d rather be … but in your arms.”

  The instant Galen’s heartbeat ceased Ian’s soul shattered. From the very depths of the earth itself, a scream burst forth at the top of his lungs.

  “Noooo!”

  An explosive storm burst overhead. Tremendous thunder cracked the night’s calm. Winds blew in like a tornado, whipping up the trees, uprooting them.

  The earth beneath him shook and rumbled, dislodging rocks and boulders. Every bird in the forest took flight at once, creating a black curtain across the moonlit sky. Their startled cries nearly drowned out the thunderous cracks of lightning. Debris and broken branches crashed throughout the clearing.

  Milo appeared just as a small tree flew sideways toward him. He dropped to the ground at the last second, and it passed overhead, smashing into a massive redwood beyond.

  Ian cradled Galen’s lifeless body, immune to the tumult swirling and encircling them. Milo fell to his knees and shook Ian’s shoulders. “Ian, look at me!”