Red-Line: The Shift (Volume One)

by J. T. Bishop

  “Don’t be. It’s a good word, and entirely realistic. Don’t you get it? That’s exactly what they could use her for.” Ramsey stood and faced his friend from across the kitchen.

  “Sherlock, they can’t use her as a weapon.”

  “Can’t they? Think about what you just said. Somebody talked or overheard something. It gets to somebody who’s peeved at the Council for some reason probably long forgotten. It’s no longer on their radar. But this guy’s got it on his. He hears the rumors, does a little investigating, finds us, and makes a move. A bit of a novice act, but he tries it and almost succeeds. But now, he’s really pissed. He’s angry I took her back, made him look foolish. Weapon? Maybe not in the ‘kaboom’ kind of way, but it certainly would make the Council look stupid if he got a hold of her, used her for ransom, or worse, killed her. You said it yourself. It’s a theory.”

  Leroy held his glass of water but didn’t drink it. He studied his friend. Outside, the shadows grew longer as the sun made its descent. He would have to leave soon. His absence would be noticed, especially if Ramsey was missing, too. They had to keep a low profile. He considered Ramsey’s comments.

  “I admit it’s a plausible theory,” he conceded.

  Ramsey continued to look at him, but not with the satisfied grin Leroy was expecting. “Now what’s going on in that head of yours?”

  Ramsey’s mind was racing. He was thinking through his actions the preceding days, and his conclusions were making him uncomfortable.

  “First of all,” said Ramsey, “it’s over there. Bottom right cabinet, near the stove.”

  “What is?” asked Leroy.

  “The hard stuff. Secondly…” He paused and sighed, considering his next words before saying them. “If this guy’s been watching me, then he knows where this house is. “ He thought again and looked at Leroy. “He knows where we’re keeping her.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  * * *

  THE FIRST INDICATION that she still lived was the throbbing in her head. She could tell she was lying down on a soft surface and was covered by what felt like a blanket. She was warm. No, she was hot. She wanted to kick the blanket off, but the energy required to do so was more than she was willing to summon at the moment. She didn’t even have the strength to open her eyes. Slowly, though, as she regained consciousness, thoughts began to emerge from her brain fog and coalesce into a somewhat ordered stream of coherent understanding.

  She’d been having lunch. She had been with someone. Ramsey. John Ramsey. They’d eaten and she’d left angry, but she couldn’t quite recall well enough to remember why. It was a blur. She attempted to move her body but groaned at the effort. She hurt everywhere. Angry sparks of pain assailed her midsection. God, what did she have for lunch? Did it make her sick? She could feel the sweat trickle down from her belly. She had to get this blanket off before she burned to death. She moved her arms despite the soreness she felt and began to wiggle free, managing to get her upper body out from under the covering. It was a small measure of relief. She opened her eyes into a squint, expecting to see her own bedroom, thinking she had somehow managed to get home, get into bed, and sleep off whatever miserable bug she’d contracted. A trickle of fear coursed through her when she did not recognize where she was convalescing. It was a bedroom, but it wasn’t hers.

  The fear gave her strength, and she kicked off the remaining covers. She tried to sit up but moaned again when she could barely move, and any movement she did make managed only to increase the pain in her head. She let herself fall back into a horizontal position as she tried to assess the situation. Where the hell was she? There must be a reason she was here. She tried to relax and just think for a moment. She’d left lunch, and she’d been walking home. She’d stopped. Had she stopped? No. Her eyes flew wide open at the memory. A man. He’d tried to help her on the street. But he’d grabbed her instead and pulled her toward a car.

  Now she did sit up, despite her body’s protests. She looked around the room, attempting to focus on her surroundings. She tried not to panic, although her heart clearly ignored her. She recognized nothing, and no one appeared to be around. Where was she?

  She swung her legs around and off the bed. If she could find a phone, she could call for help. But she didn’t see one. She wondered if she should yell or keep quiet when she finally heard noises from another part of the house. She listened, now really feeling afraid. It was two men. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. She had no idea what to do or where to go. She didn’t know what time of day it was, and the curtains were pulled closed. She looked at the curtains. Windows. She could get out a window. If she’d been kidnapped, she could go to a neighboring house and get help.

  She steadied herself for a moment before attempting to stand. Her heart knocked and her head ached, but the adrenaline running through her gave her added strength. She stood up and held on to the nightstand as a dizzy spell passed. She took a deep lungful of air to calm down. When she felt balanced enough, she took a few steps toward the windows. She shook with a combination of fear and illness, but she steadied herself as she reached for the curtains. Another wave of dizziness hit her at the same time as a lancing pain tore through her midsection. The force of it caused her to unintentionally cry out. Her precarious balance deserted her, and she reached to find something to stop her fall but could only grab at the curtain. The curtain ripped as it took her weight, and the rod dislodged and hit the floor hard. All she could do at that point was prevent her head from hitting the floor. She succeeded at that, at least. She hit the ground with her side taking the brunt of the force, and she lay still and curled inward as the lance of pain worked its way through her torso and then was gone as fast as it came.

  Running footsteps echoed from the hall. They’d heard. She resigned herself to her fate. There was nowhere for her to go, and worse, she had no strength to get there.

  “Sarah.” She heard her name called. The footsteps grew loud as they entered the room.

  “Stay away from me.” She tried to move away but didn’t get far. She closed her eyes again because the indirect light from the unobstructed window felt blinding to her.

  “Sarah, are you okay?” She felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Leave me alone. Don’t touch me.” The strong voice she’d hoped to use came out more as a whimper.

  “Sherlock, she doesn’t know where she is. Give her some space.” It was the second man’s voice. The voice was strong, but she detected no malice in it.

  “Sarah, can you hear me? It’s Ramsey. You’re safe.”

  The mention of his name and his last two words managed to penetrate her frozen state. She struggled to open her eyes, despite the light, to look at him.

  He looked down at her with his own combination of fear and anxiety. He didn’t look too great either, in her opinion. “Where am I?” she managed to ask.

  “Sarah, listen. I know there’s a lot to explain, but you have to trust me. I had to bring you here to keep you safe. Before we get into all of that, though, how are you? How do you feel?”

  Sarah hugged her belly. “I feel terrible,” she said. “I want to go home. Just take me home.”

  “I can’t do that, Sarah. I’ll explain it all, I promise, but first, let’s get you more comfortable.”

  Ramsey moved behind her and put his arms under her and lifted her up. She moaned with the movement even though he was gentle with her.

  “Easy. Take it easy. You’ll feel better in a second.” He carried her back over to the bed and laid her back down in her previous position. He covered her back up with the blanket.

  “I don’t want the blanket. I’m too hot. Leave it off.” She tried feebly to push it down.

  “Leave it on. You’re feverish.” Ramsey pulled it back up again.

  “I need a doctor, Ramsey. It’s just the flu or something. Just take me home and I’ll be fine. I’ll call my aunt. She’ll take care of me.” Sarah acted as if she wanted to get up, although she made little progress. />
  Ramsey looked for Leroy, who stood watching. “Can you go get her some water?” he asked. Leroy nodded and left the room.

  Ramsey looked back at Sarah. “Sit still, Sarah. I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the wet cloth and headed into the bathroom, where he rewet it and brought it back to wipe her forehead.

  “Ramsey, is that you?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Yeah, it’s still me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Why not? Why are you fixated on playing nursemaid?” She watched him as he rested the wet cloth above her eyes.

  “Sarah.” He sat back down on the bed, trying to think of where to start, when he was interrupted by Leroy returning to the room with a large glass of water.

  “Thanks.” He took the water. “Sarah, I’m going to sit you up and give you something to drink. You thirsty?”

  “Very.”

  He brought a hand up under her neck and lifted her far enough for her to get a few gulps of water. He laid her back down when she was done and put the water on the nightstand. “Feel better?”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Throat hurts, too. Damn, what doesn’t hurt?” She opened her eyes and shifted her gaze over to Leroy, who stood beside the bed, watching and saying nothing.

  “Who’s the big guy?”

  Ramsey met Leroy’s gaze, and Leroy shrugged and answered, “Sampson Leroy, my dear. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Unfortunate that it could not be under better circumstances.”

  “Don’t mind him,” said Ramsey. “I just keep him around for company.”

  She scrutinized them both as her body, aching from head to toe, shook with chills and her head throbbed. She’d awakened after an apparent kidnap attempt to find herself in a strange place with a man she’d known twenty-four hours and another man she didn’t know at all. Intuitively, she felt they meant her no harm, but on the other hand, could she afford the risk of trusting them? Considering her condition, she didn’t have many options.

  “Okay. I’m not stupid.” She took a labored breath and coughed. “What’s going on? Why am I here? How do I know you two didn’t kidnap me?” She wanted to ask more, but those questions alone wore her out.

  Leroy answered first, pointing at Ramsey. “Theoretically speaking, he did all the kidnapping.”

  “Leroy,” Ramsey responded.

  “Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. It’s getting a little too serious in here.” His gaze settled on Sarah, and he addressed her again. “You have nothing to worry about from us. He did need to move you quickly, though. Someone else apparently has an interest in you, and Sherlock here was able to stop him.” He paused, considering what next to say. “We know you have questions, and we will answer all of them. Right now, though, you need to sleep. You’ve been through a lot today.”

  She didn’t say anything, but sleeping was the last thing on her mind.

  Leroy turned to Ramsey when he realized Sarah didn’t have plans to rest. “I think she’d like to hear the rest from you,” he said. “I’ll be in the kitchen, figuring out what to do next.”

  Ramsey glanced up. “Sure. Thanks, Leroy. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Take your time.” Leroy turned and left.

  Ramsey turned back to Sarah, who still watched him, waiting.

  He cleared his throat, not sure where to begin. Deciding to start where he’d left off earlier, he asked, “Do you remember our conversation at lunch?” He couldn’t believe that was just a few hours ago.

  “You mean the whole change thing? Yes, that part is quite vivid. Are you still suggesting that’s what’s happening to me?”

  “Very simplified, yes.” He saw her roll her eyes. “Listen,” he started, “I know this sounds ridiculous to you and that what I’m about to say is going to sound crazy, but please believe me, everything I’m saying is true.” When he got no response from her, he kept going. “That man who tried to take you today, he was real, Sarah. There is a reason I brought you here and there is a reason why you are sick right now. And it’s not the flu.”

  Sarah knitted her brow. She adjusted herself on the bed, but didn’t look comfortable.

  “You okay?” asked Ramsey.

  “No, I’m not okay.” She sighed. “Just tell me.”

  Ramsey appreciated her directness. Many of his regular assignments already knew most of the information he was about to give her, or they knew nothing at all and never would. But even for those who knew, their Shift could be difficult to experience. Considering everything, he felt she deserved to know the truth, even though if she resisted, it could make her transition that much more difficult for the both of them.

  He considered where to start. “Sarah,” he said, pausing and reconsidering his next words. “I told you that you were going to experience some changes.”

  “No,” she corrected him, “you told me I was going to change.” Even though she felt terrible and her head still pounded, she managed to remember that little tidbit.

  “Well, then, yes, if you want to get technical, you’re going to do both.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Look, Ramsey, apparently you’re having some trouble with this, but the fact is, I need to hear the truth or I’m going to lose it. I’m trying really hard to keep it together here, so stop treating me like an eggshell and spill it or find me a phone, and I’ll call someone to come get me. Because right now, I’m thinking you’re some sort of nutcase and I’m your next victim. And I’m trying really hard not to believe that. So please convince me.” Her words wore her out, and she took a breath to steady herself. Even lying down, her vision spun briefly.

  He studied her for a second, measuring her tolerance for the truth, decided it was now or never, and then said bluntly, “All right, here it is. You’re not human.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  * * *

  SHE DIDN’T RESPOND to his statement. She just looked at him as she absorbed the information. Finally, she said, “Excuse me? Just how am I supposed to respond to that?”

  “With disbelief, I’m sure.”

  “To put it mildly. Now before I go off the deep end here, please explain that absurd statement.”

  He shifted on the bed to face her more directly. “Sarah, just listen to everything I have to say before you start to ask questions, okay?”

  After a brief hesitation, she nodded her consent.

  “Thank you. I know this will sound strange, but bear with me.” He took a second to think. “Very simply, you and I are from an extraterrestrial community that has lived here on Earth for many years. We are originally from a planet called Eudora, which is not too far outside this solar system, relatively speaking. We came here for a variety of reasons, but mainly because we happen to share many similar characteristics with humans, one of which includes our physical appearance, which allows us to blend in quite nicely.”

  He eyed her as he spoke, but she said nothing. “We’ve lived among humans for a very long time, quite peacefully and with absolutely no problems whatsoever. However, we are still a different species living on a different planet, and as such, we have to adapt to the world in which we live. I can go into more detail on that later. But for right now, as it pertains to you, all I need to tell you is that you are experiencing what all Eudorans experience at some point after what humans would call adolescence. At a certain point in our lives, we begin to manifest physical changes and shifts in our bodies as we transition to…to…” He wasn’t sure how to describe it. “To another level of being, I suppose is one way to say it. Living on another planet affects us as we move through this transition. If we were on our home planet, there would be a multitude of resources to assist us as we move through this phase, but on Earth, we have to do our best with what we have at our disposal. We have adapted quite well, and most of us handle this change with relatively minor difficulties. Some of us need a little extra help, though, and that’s where I come in. I assist in cases that may be more difficult or compromising. One of our m
ain principles as Eudorans is not to reveal our existence to humans or to affect human evolution in any way. Now, although it would be unlikely that our extraterrestrial nature—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Sarah said. “That’s it for me. I can’t listen to any more of this.”

  “You wanted me to spill it. You want the truth, right?”

  “Who are you, and what do you want with me? I just want to go home. Please just take me home. Call my Aunt Gerry.” Physically exhausted and mentally drained, she tried to get up but couldn’t muster the strength.

  He could feel her confusion and anxiety, but he didn’t have any way of lessening it. “Let me finish first. If I get through this and you still want to leave, I’ll take you.” He hoped that he wouldn’t have to honor that, but he had to find a way to get her to stay still and listen. She needed to hear everything.

  She quieted for a moment. “You promise me? You finish this crazy talk, and if I want to go home, you’ll take me?”

  “Sarah, if it doesn’t compromise your health in any way, I’ll take you. I promise.”

  He met her gaze and held it. It seemed to be enough, as she appeared to relax a little. He took that as an invitation to continue.

  “As I was saying, our extraterrestrial biochemistry is close enough to humans that it prevents us from being discovered through any sort of medical exam on this planet. The doctors here don’t know what to look for yet. But when someone is changing, or “shifting,” as we call it, there can be some unusual manifestations that occur, and if under the care of a typical MD, matters could be made much worse, considering the treatment that is often prescribed by humans. If that is a possibility, then my services can help prevent that from happening.”

  “What are you? An alien doctor?” She chuckled.

  “Hardly. I’d have a horrible bedside manner. My official term is a “Protector.” I assist in transitions and protect those who are shifting, from themselves and from humans, to ensure that neither of them gets in the way of the process. There’s more to it than that, but you get the idea.”