Dark Fall: The Gift

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Dark Fall: The Gift Page 16

by KD Knight


  "Wake up, Lisa." Mark said casually. "Your dear teacher is a liar. He's dirty. Corrupt."

  Lisa and Mark began to argue back and forth. Lisa was insisting that there must be a good explanation.

  "We've known Dr. Coy for a long time. We owe him the benefit of the doubt!" she yelled.

  "The evidence is in black and white." Mark replied calmly.

  All I could hear was my mother's voice in my head. You can't trust anyone.

  "My mother's right." I rose to my feet and began to pace the floor. One by one, people will show their true deceitful colours. It's only a matter of time.

  "I'm sorry. You both have to leave." I folded my arms and bit back my tears. "Now, please."

  "What?" There was real hurt behind Lisa’s confused glare.

  "I'm sorry. It's not personal. It's just that I'd rather end our friendship on a high note, before the backstabbing and betrayal begins." I cleared the lump from my throat.

  "Jane, I would never…" Lisa began to plea.

  "For the record, you guys have been the best friends I have ever had. I will always remember you as the kindest, most selfless people I have ever known." I wiped a tear from my cheek. "Please leave."

  I held the door open as they quietly left. I closed the door and let my heavy body slide down to the floor.

  I sat on the floor for a long time, thinking about what to do next. Do I go back to Canada, tail between my legs? My mother would love that. I would hate it. I needed to figure out what was going on. If I went home, I would never know the truth.

  There was a loud and sudden bang at the door that jolted me back to reality. I didn't move. I didn't want to see anyone right now. I had too much to think about. The banging got louder and began to sound panicked. I thought about Aunt Dar and wondered if it might be her at the door with a bag full of groceries and a knife at her back. With the increasing number of shady characters in my life, anything was possible. I wiped my face clean and opened the door.

  It wasn't Aunt Dar. It was the last person I wanted to see. "Officer Glenroy Mamos."

  "Miss Miller," he greeted me with a wicked grin.

  "Officer, I hope you've come to give me an update on the search for Marcus and Aramos." I leaned my drained body against the door frame.

  "May I come in?" He stepped forward, attempting to mount the final step into my home. I held my hand out and stopped him before he crossed the threshold. He flashed a crooked smile and returned to his place on the veranda.

  "Why are you here?"

  "Miss Miller, let me start by requesting that we be honest with one another. It will make this whole process go a lot smoother."

  "Alright. Tell me honestly, why haven't you caught my attackers? How many leads have you followed up on in the last month? Why does it seem like everyone, including the one's I should be able to trust, is out to get me?"

  Glenroy's nostrils flared as his eyes transformed from brown to grey. "Where were you between 3:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m. yesterday?"

  "I'll make you a deal, you answer any one of my questions and I will tell you exactly where I was."

  Glenroy's whole face curled into a scowl. "A number of incidents have occurred within the last twelve hours that I believe you and your friends were involved in." His voice became rough.

  "Really."

  "Yesterday an undercover Council Guard that I hired to trail you went missing. At 11:00 this morning, we found this officer in an abandoned train station. He was hog tied with duct tape. Do you know anything about this?"

  Boothe immediately came to mind.

  "You had someone trailing me?"

  "We have reason to believe that Marcus’s old friend, Mr. Hasani Boothe, is responsible for this crime."

  We didn't leave for Port Royal until after lunch. At 11:00 Boothe would have been in class. It is possible that he snuck out of school, took care of this agent and then met me for lunch. Given his track record for keeping secrets, it's not likely that he would have said anything to me about it.

  "Are you saying that a seventeen year old managed to get the jump on a trained Council Guard, hog tie him, and somehow get him to an abandoned train station, all without so much as a scratch to show for it. No wonder none of you can find Marcus. Tell me Officer Glenroy, do you train these men yourself or is this a systematic issue?"

  The grey smoke danced in his eyes. I had set a fire.

  "I am not one to be played with, young lady. Especially after that stunt you pulled yesterday at the archives. Stealing Dr. Chung's pass and posing as research students. I could arrest you right now."

  "If you had proof that I committed a crime, you would have arrested me by now."

  "Oh, I have my proof. There are documents missing from one of the files." He raised his brows. "I'm sure that the document is somewhere on these premises."

  Dr. Coy's will and testament was sitting in a messy pile on the dining room table.

  "I have never intentionally stolen anything in my life."

  "Maybe one of your criminal friends took it. It could have been Lisa, the good girl gone bad. Maybe it was Boothe, your knight in dark armour. I have the most evidence against Mark Chung. After all, it was his father's pass you used to gain access to the archives. Witnesses indicate that he left the premises with a little more than he came in with."

  "Leave my friends out of this," I barked. "It's me you want…"

  "Well, they say if you can't catch the bull, catch his calf."

  "Is that a threat?"

  He sneered as his smoky eyes widened. "Absolutely."

  ~Boothe~

  Chapter Nineteen: Playing Coy

  I stood by the sofa and looked around Dr. Coy's living room. The windows in Dr. Coy's wood and panel house were barred with large planks of wood. It looked like he was preparing for a hurricane. But hurricane season wasn't for another few months, which meant that he was either trying to keep something serious out, or keep himself securely in.

  My phone buzzed. It was Lisa. It was her third call in the last fifteen minutes. I pressed ignore and shoved my phone back into my pocket. Last night when Jane broke the news, I saw the look in Lisa's eyes; it was condemnation. Jane was worse. She regretted ever trusting me. She probably regretted the day I came into her life.

  I walked aimlessly around Coy's living room, picking up odd scraps of paper that he had piled on almost every flat surface. The words scribbled on the scraps of paper were unrecognizable. I stopped in front of the floor to ceiling bookshelf in the corner of the room. It was the only surface that was scrap-free. I ran my finger along the spine of one of the leather-bound books. A thick film of black dust lifted off its surface. I pulled the book from the shelf and dusted the film off the front. Embossed in black on the cover was a name that was well known in the Eshkar community: William Coy, Eshkar historian.

  My father told me that William Coy lived and wrote in a time when Eshkars and Nephilims lived openly amongst Normals. Fast forward thirty years, Normals now live in ignorance. If Aramos stood in the middle of the street and let his army of Neph soldiers loose, no one would know what was happening to them. They'd probably think it was some sort of parade. It’s hard to think that someone can be so ignorant of a force that affects their daily lives. Nephs use their weapons every day to hurt people, break apart families and feed the flames of anger and hatred.

  William Coy's books should be available for all to read, including Normals. Normals need to be reminded of the evil that's out there and what that evil can and will do.

  "Do you want something to eat? I don't have much; I haven't been to the market lately. I think I have a piece of bulla in the cupboard…" Coy said as he emerged from the kitchen. He ran his cracked hands through his tattered dreadlocks.

  "I'd rather talk." I returned the book to the shelf and took a seat in the chair opposite Coy.

  "I'm not the conversationalist I used to be." He laughed nervously.

  I leaned forward in my chair. "I'm going to get right into it. What does Aramos
want with Jane?"

  "I-I-I, I don't know." His eyes shifted nervously around the room.

  "I need the truth, Coy." I snapped my fingers by his face. "Look at me. I need the truth."

  A tear ran down Coy's cheek. "They have my daughter." His lips quivered. "They'll kill her."

  Yes. The one Jane thinks I kidnapped. "Aramos has your daughter?"

  He nodded. "If I say anything to anyone…"

  "She'll die if you don't say anything!"

  He buried his face in his hands. "Marcus," he said between sobs, "Marcus took her."

  I know Marcus better than I’d like to admit. He does things for one of two reasons: entertainment or manipulation. Marcus was reckless, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn't kidnap the daughter of a well-connected man just for fun. It wouldn't be worth the backlash. So that leaves manipulation as his motive.

  "What did Marcus ask you to do?"

  Coy's red-rimmed eyes met mine.

  "I know he asked you for something."

  "He wants Jane. At first, I refused to help him. Then he threatened to take my daughter, Tanya. I didn't think he would do it, but as a precaution I sent her to stay with some relatives in Miami." His lips began to quiver again. "When I didn't cooperate, he grabbed her, right off the street."

  I felt for Coy, but I had to stay focused. "What does Aramos want with Jane?"

  Coy lifted his meager frame from the chair and hobbled over to the book case where his father's journals were kept. He pulled out an old leather-covered book from the bottom of the shelf.

  "This is the story of Jane's ancestors dating back to the first one to be granted the gift." He handed me the book. Many of its pages were cracked and frayed around the edges. Some of the handwritten text had faded to the point of illegibility.

  "There's probably close to a thousand pages here."

  "It's nine hundred and twenty seven pages of one of the most significant stories in Eshkar history." The light of excitement that once filled Coy's eyes had briefly returned. "Jane is the last in a long line of telekinetics commonly called Earth Movers."

  "The thing she does with the dirt."

  "Dirt, water, metals and anything else that comes out of the ground. She can manipulate it. Move it. Mould it."

  "Okay. What does Jane's gift have to do with anything?"

  "Don't you see?" He grabbed the book from my hand and rustled through the pages. "Jane is the answer."

  My phone buzzed. It was Lisa, again. I pressed the power button and watched the screen go black before shoving the phone back into my pocket.

  "Coy, you're not making sense."

  "Did you hear that?" Coy said as he stumbled into his coffee table then and fell onto the floor. "Someone's at the window."

  I walked over to the window and peered through the wood planks. Coy nervously shrunk into a nearby chair.

  "No one's out there," I said with growing frustration. "Now, you were about to tell me about Jane and the General."

  "Oh no!" Coy pulled at his hair. "I was warned. I should have listened. They're going to kill my precious Tanya."

  "Coy, I want to help you. I want to find Tanya. The only way I can do that is to know what's going on."

  "No. You have to go." He stood up and pushed me towards the door. "Now!"

  I shrugged Coy off. "Before I go, I have one last question."

  Coy looked nervously around the room before retreating to a corner where he crouched. "I'm so sorry, baby. Tanya, I'm so sorry," he whispered to the ground.

  I crouched down beside him. "The other day I went through my father's safe and I found two documents. One talked about a secret between him and Glenroy. The other was my birth certificate. My biological father's name, the hospital where I was born, my birthday, all of it blacked out."

  "What did Henry say?" He asked without looking up.

  "My father said I was ungrateful and that I didn't appreciate the life that he had made for me." In short, my father did everything in his power not to talk about what I found.

  I extended my hand to Coy. Reluctantly, he grabbed hold and I lifted him to his feet.

  "Your mother was my friend. Her death hit us all really hard."

  "Murder."

  "Yes," he hung his head low, "murder."

  "She did a good job of hiding her pregnancy from us. It wasn't until her death that whispers started about a baby."

  "I'm just going to get to the point. Who's my biological father?"

  He shrugged. "There was a lot of speculation. But no one knew for sure."

  I looked over to the shelf of William Coy's journals. "Is there anything in those books about her?"

  He walked over to the bookshelf and withdrew a book from the top shelf. "I made a promise to your father to never show you this." He held the book to his chest. "I knew I could never keep such a promise. We have a right to know our history. That's why my father wrote these journals."

  I took the book from his hand and opened it to the earmarked page. The passage talked about Josephine Boothe, daughter of the Chairman of the Eshkar Council, Henry Boothe.

  Ms. Josephine Boothe, age 22, was detained and imprisoned by the Eshkar Council for reasons only known to the Council board of directors. Henry Boothe fought the Council's decision to imprison his daughter and demanded a formal inquiry. While in prison, awaiting the outcome of the Council inquiry, she gave birth to a son.

  The inquiry failed to produce any sound evidence to support her ongoing detention. She was released.

  One day after Catherine's release she was found dead in a vacant plot of land near Rose Hall in Montego Bay. No suspects to her murder were found.

  Soon after, Mr. Henry Boothe resigned from his position on the Council.

  "This is it." I yelped as I flipped through the pages. "Where is the rest of the story?" I threw the book down onto the coffee table. "My mother was arrested, released, and then killed. For what?"

  "If you want to get to the bottom of this you’ll have to talk to the people involved."

  Oh, I will. Starting with my adopted father.

  "Before you go," Coy grabbed my arm, "the book." He handed me the tattered Miller family legend. "Please make sure Jane gets this, and tell her I'm sorry."

  I stepped into my car and turned on my phone. I had six voice messages. I opened my mailbox. Message one, marked urgent. It was Lisa. She said only three words, “Jane is missing.”

  ~Boothe~

  Chapter Twenty: Hot like Fyah {Hot like fire}

  By the time I arrived at Jane's house, I was so hot I felt like I was exhaling pure steam. It was stupid for her to push her friends away. How many Nephs and Ancients need to attack you before you realize that your life is in danger? You need all the help you can get.

  I knocked on Jane's door so hard that the wood began to splinter.

  "Oh, it's you." Aunt Dar sighed. "Thank you for coming so quickly." She gestured for me to enter.

  Lisa was the second to welcome me with a big hug. "I called you at least fifteen times today. You didn't answer."

  I regretted not answering my phone. "I was busy."

  "She's gone," Aunt Dar whimpered as she wrung her hands. "When I came home from the market the house was empty. At first I thought she left with you or Lisa. But then I found this note."

  Aunt Dar passed me a small slip of paper. Jane didn't say much. She kept it short and sweet.

  "Your life is in danger as long as I am around. I love you too much to see you get hurt. Tell my friends I'm sorry, but it’s better this way. Now they can go back to their normal lives."

  "Then I called Lisa," Aunt Dar said tearfully. "She told me what happened."

  "Jane asked us to leave, too." Lisa added.

  "No." Mark popped a chip into his mouth. "She kicked us out. She thought we were going to stab her in the back like Mr. Charm over here. She said something about ending the friendship on a high…"

  "Has she completely lost her mind?" My hands grew hot. It was hard to keep them in my po
ckets. But I had to. I knew that once my hands came out of my pocket, I’d loose my handle on my anger. "She thinks she's gonna be any safer out there alone?"

  "Hey, don't shoot the handsome messenger." Mark threw up his hands.

  Tears welled in Aunt Dar's eyes and her lips began to quiver. "Please, you have to find her. She could be hurt somewhere."

  Lisa wrapped her arm around Aunt Dar's shoulder. "Jane's strong. I'm sure she's okay."

  "Or in a ditch…" Mark said nonchalantly as he leaned back against a wall.

  "Shut it, Mark!" Lisa barked.

  "What?" He licked his finger and ran it along the bottom of the bowl, then licked the chip crumbs off the tips of his fingers. "Everyone in this room knows that there are more than just beaches and blue skies out there. There's real evil. Don't jump all over me because I choose to face reality."

  Mark and Lisa continued to bicker back and forth. Aunt Dar escaped to the kitchen where she began banging around pots and dishes. By this time the heat that had started in my fingers had travelled throughout my limbs and had reached the base of my neck. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I can’t explode. Not now. Not here.

  "I'm going out to look for Jane. If you hear from her, call me." I instructed as I made my way to the front door.

  Dusk was beginning to settle over the city, which meant that I had about an hour before the sun completely set and Jane would be lost to the Nephilims of the night. Where do I start?

  As soon as my hand touched the car door, my phone began to vibrate. I peered at William Coy's journal on the passenger seat. This book answers Jane's questions about who she is and where she came from. Hopefully, I'll find her alive enough to read it. My phone rang again.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, it's me, Mark."

  "Stop fooling around…"

  "Relax. Jane's here. She came around the back."

  When I entered the room again, Aunt Dar was hugging Jane tightly and kissing her forehead. "Oh, thank heavens you’re safe. I’m going to handcuff you to the bed."

 

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