by J. Meyers
Well, at least she’d been able to influence him, make him believe his knee hadn’t been hurt. Thankfully that had worked.
“So, do you think you can still hack it?” Luke said, and waved at the trail heading up the mountain. “Or do we need to turn back for you, too?”
Sera rolled her eyes and laughed. It was okay. Everything was okay. She didn’t need to worry about this anymore.
She hoped.
“All right, all right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Sitting on top of a mountain cleared Luke’s mind, and filled his body with a calm he experienced nowhere else. The air seemed cleaner, more vibrant up here. And the view? The view was amazing. All of Vermont spread out around them, and in the distance, the Adirondacks.
He sat on the boulder next to Sera and stared out at the fall colors splashed across the trees. It felt so big up here. Earth. The world. But it didn’t make Luke feel small—he felt as if he were a part of it all. Connected. Necessary.
And his heightened senses only made it better. He could get used to this, he thought. In fact, he was starting to thoroughly enjoy it. He might even have to rename the feeling something other than impending doom.
He turned and reached for a granola bar in the backpack behind him, and the world disappeared.
Luke was in a room that looked like it was carved out of a mountain. A cave. Walls made of blood-red rocks. It was massive. The biggest cave he’d ever seen. And empty. Why would he have a vision about an empty cave?
He turned, saw someone lying on the ground halfway across the room. Still. No sign of life. As he slowly walked toward the person, chills spread over his skin. The shoes. Why did those shoes look familiar?
He ran forward, fear gripping him. Damn it, why wasn’t the person moving? And where had he seen those shoes before? Whose were they? He was about to yell when he saw the blood pooling out on the floor, and his voice, his breath, flew out of him in a whoosh.
Luke gasped and fell backwards, his head hitting the huge rock he was on. He lay there for a moment, holding his breath. He didn’t want Sera to know he’d had a vision. He didn’t want to tell her about this one. Not yet.
Holy crap. He’d just had a vision that someone died.
His head throbbed where he’d knocked it and his eyes fought to focus. Clouds floated serenely in the sky above, in complete contrast to the panic raging inside him. He had to pull himself together before he looked at her. He breathed in short, quiet bursts. He needed to slow his heart, calm his breath, wait for the look of irrational fear to leave his eyes.
Except it wasn’t irrational. It wasn’t irrational at all. The thing about his visions? They always came true. Always. And he’d never had a vision like this before. Someone was killed. He was sure that’s what he’d Seen.
Sure as he’d ever been of anything in his life.
“Luke?” Sera had turned to look at him, a slight frown on her face. “You okay?”
No. He wasn’t. Not until he found out who that vision was about. Oh, and figured out that small matter of how to stop it from coming true. Holy crap. He had to stop this one.
He tried to make his voice sound normal. “I’m checking out the clouds.” He didn’t answer her question. He wouldn’t lie to her outright.
She lay back, her head near his and looked up at the sky with him. “You looking for dogs and bunnies?” She elbowed him gently.
Luke smiled, started to relax a little. Maybe he’d missed something in the vision, misinterpreted it. “Yup. And butterflies.” He lowered his voice. “I also figured the fairies might come out to join us if we’re really quiet.”
Sera laughed, turned to look at him. “I can’t believe you remember that. You remember waiting for them in the yard?”
“Under the apple tree where you built those fairy houses out of sticks and leaves?”
“And flowers. Fairies like flowers. At least that’s what the book said.” Sera sighed, shifted her head. “We waited day after day after day.”
“And they never came.”
“Nope, they never did.”
They were quiet a moment. Luke’s heart had slowed. The vision wasn’t complete enough to really panic. Yet. And maybe—just maybe—he was wrong about it. It was possible he could be wrong once. Right?
Sera tilted her head toward his. “You know, I hate to say this, but—”
“—we need to head back,” Luke said. “Homework?”
“English. I haven’t even started that essay.” Sera sat up, put the water bottles back in their pack, along with the leftovers from their lunch. She got it all zipped up and slipped her arms through the straps.
Luke hadn’t moved, but watched her. “You’re carrying it?”
“It’s lighter now. And it doesn’t slow me down going down the mountain. Just up. Plus equal opportunity and all that.” She stood up, held her hands out to him. He grasped them and let her pull him up to sitting.
But he made the mistake of looking down.
His heart slammed against his chest, his breath caught in his throat. He should have been looking up at her or out at the view. Why couldn’t he have kept his eyes up?
Because now his panic was back full force. Now he couldn’t look back up to meet her eyes for fear of what she’d see there. Alarm. Panic. Terror. He couldn’t do anything but stare at her shoes.
Holy crap.
Her shoes. Sera’s.
The ones he’d Seen in his vision.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Hey! Thanks for reading. If you liked this short story and wanted to tell all your friends about it, I could totally learn to live with that. Go ahead. I’ll wait. (No, really. I mean it. Call them, post, tweet. However you want. I’ll still be here.)
You just did me the biggest favor by doing that. Seriously. (And you are now, officially, my favorite person.) If you loved this and wanted to show it, a little review of why you liked it or what you liked about it posted online would be the perfect way to do that. (It doesn’t have to be long or in-depth, just say what you’re inspired to say.)
Thanks! You’re the best. (And I really do mean that.)
Warmly,
j.
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Follow Sera and Luke’s story in
COMING FALL 2011
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Preview
ONE
“Shall she be the first to die, Seer?”
Luke’s head whipped up and he froze with the realization—she was talking directly to him. That had never happened before.
She spoke again, a taunt. “Yes, I think so. Her healing makes her the more dangerous.”
No. A chill tingled up his neck, settled on his scalp. Not his sister. This one couldn’t be about Sera. Damn it, who’d said that?
There.
Holy. Crap.
Ivory satin skin, copper colored hair, her body a combination of hard and soft in all the right places. Divine. That was the only way to describe her. Luke found it hard to breathe looking at her. It pierced him, her beauty. She smiled serenely at him. And though her words had struck terror, her visage soothed him. He knew with sudden certainty that he’d do anything to make her happy.
Torchlight from sconces on the walls flicked amber across her tall angular form. As Luke gazed intently, however, her beauty quivered, disappeared to reveal a disturbing gauntness. Sharp cheekbones under pale as death skin. Collarbones stood out above the skin-tight black tank top. Hip bones jutted out just above the top of her taut black pants. Not an ounce of excess to her body. Nor an ounce of humanity in her glittering dark eyes.
Had he really thought she was beautiful only a moment ago? He studied her. She was sickeningly skeletal, yet then inexplicably alluring again. All at once terrifying, grotesque, and ravishing. What the hell was she?
Goose bumps spread up his arms.
This was the scariest vision he’d ever had.
His eyes settled on the wide gold disc around her neck. It was sh
aped like an Egyptian collar necklace and inscribed with ancient-looking symbols. It lay flat against her chest, wrapping all the way around her neck, the only adornment she wore.
He took a step back and noticed they were standing together on a dais next to a sleek, dark stone throne. A throne? Seriously? thought Luke. Where the hell was he?
As Luke turned back to her, she smiled suddenly, sending a chill scuttling under his skin. There was no happiness, no warmth in her face—only inhuman excitement. With a start, he realized what was about to happen.
No one else was here.
He was about to witness his own death.
In all of his seventeen years he’d never had a vision about himself before—he hadn’t thought it was possible. If it was, he wasn’t sure this was something he wanted to See. But maybe if he didn’t look at her, it wouldn’t happen.
His eyes scanned the room. Blood-red rock walls rose from a charred black stone floor with the deepest, darkest shadows lurking in every crack and crevice. Luke blinked hard. Did the shadows just move? He shook his head to clear it, trying hard to not look back over at the hideous beauty. It was a vast, vacant space that felt both cold and hot simultaneously. Luke went from shivering to sweating to shivering again.
Oh my god, Luke thought. Am I in hell?
Did hell actually exist?
A slight movement in his peripheral vision made him turn his head. He instinctively smiled at what he saw—his twin sister Sera. But in an instant the woman’s words echoed in his mind. Shall she be the first to die? A rising panic threatened to choke him. He scoured the room for a way out. A way to change what he knew with absolute certainty was about to happen.
“The Children of the Prophecy must die!” Her sudden cry filled the whole room.
And then the woman’s gold necklace hurtled through the air, slicing into Sera’s neck.
“NOOOOOOO!” Luke stood up so quickly he jammed his knee into his desk and nearly knocked over the computer he’d been using when the vision had gripped him. His heart screamed staccato beats, his breath came in raspy gulps, his grey t-shirt was drenched. He tripped over his chair, scrambling to grab the small, wire-bound black sketchbook on his bedside table before the details faded away. He threw himself back into his chair and wrote in a near frenzy as his eyes fought to focus in the dim light. Every little detail of his vision went down on the page: colors, smells, the look of the room and the people in it, what they wore, words they said. Everything he could remember.
He wrote without thinking. Without order. Without pause. Lists of words, remembered phrases. Any clue that might help him figure out how to stop it from coming true.
He had to stop this one from coming true.
If only he knew how.
His visions always came true. Always. No matter what he did. He wrote them down, dissected them for clues. Then he tried to get there before the events happened. He did everything he could to thwart them. But it was impossible. They came to him either incomplete, incomprehensible, or too late. Recurring visions were the most difficult, for the information came in dribs and drabs, and he had to piece it all together. Once he’d sorted it all out there was never enough time to do anything about it.
What did he have to do to change the future? He hadn’t figured that out yet.
But he sure as hell needed to figure it out now. Right now. Holy crap. It was Sera. Sera’s life. His breathing quickened again just thinking about it. Threads of fear wove around inside his chest and ever so slightly squeezed. Sera.
He had to save her. Had to. But how?
Don’t panic, he thought. Keep calm. Figure it out. He shut his notebook and put it back down on the table, ran a hand through his short dark hair. A bright red 1:02 glowed on his bedside clock. Shivering from his sweaty shirt, he took a deep breath, swiveled his chair to the side, and stood up in one fluid motion. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he replaced it with a soft green henley. He pushed the sleeves up to his elbows as he padded the short distance down the hall to his sister’s bedroom, the khaki carpet swallowing his cautious footsteps. A nightlight stretched his shadow out long to the far end of the hall. He knocked quietly on Sera’s door, hoping he wouldn’t wake their mom.
He paused for a moment. What was he going to tell her, coming to see her at one o’clock in the morning? How was he going to explain that? It’s not like he could say, “Hey, I’m scared to death that you’re going to die because I just Saw it. Wanna help me figure out how to stop that from happening?”
Shall she be the first to die, Seer?
He didn’t have to say anything. He just needed to know she was okay at this moment.
“Sera?” He knocked again. Opening the door quietly, he said, “Are you up?” and stepped into her room.
It was empty.
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About the Author
j. meyers grew up in Vermont, and now lives in central New York. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s chasing after her four kids, exploring the outdoors with them, relishing the few quiet moments she gets with her husband, baking sweet treats, and forgetting to make dinner. Though she cannot actually see the future nor heal with a touch of her hand, she likes to think her children believe she can. Intangible, out in Fall 2011, is her first novel.
To contact j. and learn more (than you might want to know) about her, visit her at:
Website: http://www.jmeyersbooks.com
Blog: http://jmeyersbooks.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jmeyersbooks
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/jmeyersbooks
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Table of Contents
Intuition
Preview
About the Author