Whisper of Memory (Whispering Woods Book 2)

by Berry, Brinda

  Austin ignored them and continued to stare at the man we had tied to the tree. Earlier, he had played games and texted on his cell phone for entertainment. Guarding a prisoner had turned out to be a very boring gig.

  “You’re back.” I got to my feet, then brushed some leaves and damp debris from the back of my jeans. My mind briefly went to the need for some stain spray at home, and I scolded myself mentally for letting my mind wander. Surely agents didn’t have to worry about laundry care, but neither did most teenagers.

  “Yes, back in a meteorite moment, as they say,” Arizona said with a pleasant smile.

  “Nobody says that.” Austin stood also as he commented in a deadpan tone. “Unless you are from a galaxy far, far away. Wait. That would be you, wouldn’t it?” Placing his phone back in his pocket, he came toward us with his usual swagger. Austin’s confidence coupled with his sense of humor usually drew people to him. It did the opposite in this case.

  “What did you find out?” I asked, wanting to divert the conversation away from the tension brewing. I looked at Regulus.

  “Nothing.” His answer was quick and even.

  I couldn’t help but be suspicious, although the delivery was pretty much the standard from him. Austin nonchalantly hung an arm over my shoulder, a habit he’d developed over the past year. Before Regulus had come along, it had never been an issue.

  “If you would like to keep that limb, I recommend that you make a decision to keep your body off her.” Regulus stepped forward. I thought that his shoes might even be bumping Austin’s.

  Oops. I hadn’t slipped away from Austin fast enough. “Hey, no harm done. He didn’t mean anything by that.” I laid my hand lightly on Regulus’s chest.

  “You don’t seem to be worried about it when you leave her in the woods with me for two hours while you play super-agent man. I can’t even tell that you guys are dating except for the fact that you are always hanging around and needing help with your IIA gig. You have no idea what we’ve been doing together while you were gone.” Austin was taunting Regulus. First he couldn’t get along with Arizona and now Regulus. I was tired of this.

  “She’s mine.” Regulus said in almost a whisper. He pulled me to his side.

  “Um, wait a minute. I don’t belong to anybody. You’re acting like a caveman,” I turned to Austin. “And you. You’re being a jerk.” I tried to disengage myself from Regulus. He held tighter.

  “Maybe I’ve decided that you like jerks. It seems to work for this guy.” Although I didn’t think it possible, Austin got closer to Regulus’s face. “I guess it must be his pretty face because it’s not his personality.” He flicked a careless finger underneath Regulus’s chin.

  Regulus let go of me, and I lost my balance. Before I even knew what had happened, he was on top of Austin, and both were on the ground. They ignored me as Regulus began punching Austin in the face. Arizona grabbed Regulus’s arm and tried to haul him off Austin.

  I knelt to help break them apart. After I shoved myself between them, Regulus hit me on the arm. I cried out, and he finally stopped.

  Austin was glaring at me. One eye was already starting to swell shut. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and his nose.

  Regulus extracted himself from the tangle and stood. Arizona offered a hand to help Austin, who got up on his own. Regulus turned his back on Austin, which was either stupid or arrogant in light of what had happened. I heard him taking deep breaths.

  Austin wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Blood was smeared on his cheek. “I’m done here. Mia, let’s go.”

  Astonished, I looked at his battered face. “Austin, you can’t drive right now. You won’t be able to see the road and you’re hurt.”

  “You staying or coming with me?” Austin demanded.

  “I’ll drive him, Mia.” Arizona went over to the man tied to the tree. We had all but forgotten about him. “I’ll drop this guy off at the portal first since we’ve been instructed to bring him to the Vault.” He began to unwind the rope.

  The man was smiling. His lack of concern about being taken to the Vault worried me.

  Regulus went to stand by his motorcycle. “I’ll take you home.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered awkwardly. My anger at both him and Austin had disappeared, replaced by a flood of relief at the thought of going home to bed.

  Arizona led the intruder to the Jeep without any struggle or force. I watched the man disappear into the dark backseat.

  “You get in and watch our prisoner in the back while I drive,” Arizona told Austin. Austin grimaced but didn’t argue as he got into the backseat of his own vehicle.

  The moon shone through the treetops enough to silhouette the three in the Jeep. I couldn’t see that Austin was looking at me, but I could feel it. The engine started, and I watched the Jeep lumber slowly away into the darkness.

  I wrapped my arms around myself and waited for Regulus to mount the motorcycle. He handed me a helmet, and I put it on before seating myself onto the bike. I wound my hands around his waist. He grabbed both my hands and firmly placed them to encircle his body.

  We didn’t talk and began moving. I was getting better at riding with him, but by the time we arrived at my front porch, I was too exhausted to think about all the things I wanted to say to Regulus. Sleep would be the best thing for both of us.

  “We need to talk,” he said, dismounting and helping me off the bike.

  “I know. But I’m too tired right now.” I must have sounded sad, but I could barely hold my head up.

  “The man. He wanted something from you, and I have to figure it out. That is the reason I lost control. I’m sorry.”

  “Austin means a lot to me. You have to respect that. And I know that he was trying to get your goat.”

  “Goat?”

  “Make you angry.” I smiled at him. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he didn’t know all the idioms.

  “Yes, he got my goat.”

  I smiled even bigger. “We need to talk about us and talk about what the man told me and Austin.”

  Regulus set his hands on my shoulders. He squeezed gently and then his fingertips moved across my collarbone and up the sides of my neck in a quick caress of silent apology.

  “What did he say?” he asked.

  He stood quite a bit taller than me and I tilted my head to meet his eyes. “Something about taking me to Goliath,” I said. At his quizzical face, I added, “A place down south a few hundred miles.”

  “How did you learn this?” He seemed so amazed that I had to laugh.

  “Austin asked him. And not in a subtle way.” I took the doorknob. “Can this wait until tomorrow?”

  “Want me to come in?” Hands still on my shoulders, he bent his head.

  “You can check the place out and that’s it. Then you have to leave.”

  “Yes. Those are my intentions.”

  “I mean it. My dad has laid down the law, and you can’t be in the house while he’s gone.” I made a point of sounding serious.

  “I agree.” He kissed me lightly on the forehead, not on the lips as I’d anticipated, then opened the door. “Let me check that it is safe before I leave.”

  Inside the house, “checking” included every closed door and possible hiding place. I followed him while stifling a half-dozen yawns. He held my hand some of the time, which was comforting. As much as I wanted to be upset with him over the fight earlier, I couldn’t hold it against him.

  Regulus took one look at my broken bedroom window and said he would call for a repairman the next day. We went to the garage and found some thin plywood to cover the opening. We couldn’t tape it—the piece was a little large—so we propped it over the window. Then he pushed my tall chest of drawers in front of it.

  “Everything appears secure. I would feel better if I slept on your sofa tonight,” he said.

  “Definitely not.” I imagined myself trying to go to sleep with him downstairs. And then I imagined my morning routine of flying around the house at war
p speed to get ready for school. “No. I’ll sleep with my cell phone in my hand if it makes you feel better.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning before school,” he said.

  We went outside onto the front porch. The long porch swing at the end creaked in the wind. Winter was fast approaching, and I shivered again.

  “OK. Don’t you have late classes in the morning?” I envied Regulus’s college class schedule. He didn’t even get up until I was in second or even third period.

  “Yes, but I’ll still call. Maybe we can talk about what the man said about Goliath.”

  “There’s not anything else to tell. Honest.”

  “I’ll still call in the morning.” He brushed his hand over the side of my hair and tucked a stray piece behind my ear. “When I tell you that Austin makes me… He makes me crazy. That’s what you would call it. Then, do you think I am less than in control of myself?”

  “No.” I shook my head with more force than he probably expected. “Austin drives me crazy sometimes, but he means well.”

  “He means well with you. But he wishes me dead.”

  “That’s not true. He doesn’t understand you. It frustrates him.” My argument sounded weak.

  “Go inside and sleep.” Regulus opened the door where I would go through. “And Mia.”

  “Yes?”

  “I do not understand the myriad of thoughts in my head when I am with you.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck.

  “And I have no clue what that means. Myriad of thoughts?” I wondered if he realized that people my age didn’t use those terms. His training in the IIA obviously lacked a class in idiom usage and American slang.

  Regulus stood silent and looked around my front porch for the answers. His eyes darted from the porch swing to the porch light and back again. “You know how you tell me that your words on a page are never in black and white but in a multitude of colors? And that the colors make it difficult for you to focus?”

  I nodded. That illustration greatly simplified my condition, but the degree of my sensory awareness didn’t matter. I got the point.

  “Thinking about you is like that. My focus is pushed away by your smell and touch.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I should wait and talk with you tomorrow night instead of calling. I’ll practice my patience.”

  “Practice away. It can wait.”

  Chapter 8

  Austin

  Austin’s character lumbered across the screen. Next, he climbed unsteadily since finding footholds in the game environment—the side of a cliff—wasn’t an easy task. Austin moved his character’s arm to swing his leather satchel over to one side of his body to maintain balance while leaning forward. Although it was a virtual world, physics still applied.

  He peered to the right, then hefted his weight up and caught his foot in a crack of the stone. He launched himself up and lay atop the ledge. It was quiet. When he played online, he forgot about the noises of his room at home. The headset ensured that he heard the sounds of the virtual world of Zion and nothing else. Bird calls and wind rush filled his ears.

  “It’s about time,” the voice said.

  Austin’s character jolted into an upright position. “Hey man. Could you scuffle your shoes on the ground next time? Give me a little warning?”

  “You were looking for me, right?” Pete answered.

  “Yeah. Of course I was. Did you ever see me climb these eagle roosts for nothing?”

  Pete laughed. “You’re pretty lazy dude. You’ll take on a fight if you have to, but other than that…no, you don’t expend your life force.”

  Austin tapped his own forehead. “It’s called smarts. Some people have ’em, some don’t. Expend energy on the important things. Like finding you.”

  “What made you think you would find me on a mountaintop?”

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” Although Austin’s character didn’t shrug, he lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. “I knew you were waiting to catch me again.”

  Pete’s character, wearing a jumpsuit, sat down on the cliff’s hard, slate surface. His feet hung precariously off the edge as if the drop were no more than a few inches. “How’s my sis?”

  Austin scooted beside him at the edge of the cliff. His feet swung back and forth. “She’s better these days.”

  “Better how?”

  “Not as gloomy and moody. Man, there’s nothing moodier than a teenage girl, and she’s been the worst. Now that she hopes she’ll find you, and she’s got her stud muffin hanging around, she’s better.” Austin began picking up small pebbles and tossing them over the cliff to watch them fall endlessly.

  “She’s not going to find me. Mia should get that idea out of her head.”

  “I found you.” Austin’s character waved his arm awkwardly toward Pete. “Here. Now I’ve got to figure out what you’re running from.”

  “Running? I’m not running anymore. I just made a decision where there’s no turning back. My life as big brother to Mia is over. No hanging out with the crew in Whispering Woods. No college.” He paused. “No seeing my dad ever again.”

  “OK, man. Hold up ’cause you are a real downer. I climb this Herculean mountain and very nearly expend all my life force for you to tell me that it’s game over? No one gets to pull you out of this deep cover gig you’ve got going?”

  “The IIA wants me.”

  Silence filled the space. Austin couldn’t hear a thing except for his own breathing. The living, breathing Austin squirmed in his chair while the character sporting a halo of golden dreadlocks sat still.

  “It’s going to kill Mia. She’s agreed to help those dudes. She calls herself a team member.” Austin hesitated, searching for the right term. “She’s a portal tuner, locator, something.”

  “She’s fine where she is.”

  “What? If the IIA is fine, why are they looking for you?”

  “Mia has to make up her own mind. I made a decision for my life. I told you that I won’t see my dad, my friends, anybody ever again. My regular life as a citizen is over.” Pete’s character stood.

  “What’s your hurry? I have more questions.” Austin’s character rose to face his friend.

  “I can’t stay any longer. Listen carefully. Look into what is happening in Goliath. I’m on it, too, but she can read people and situations better than I can. Be smart. Use a cover when you go there. There’s a ghost-hunting organization doing a trip this weekend. They’ll let you sign up. It’s safer to go with them.”

  “You don’t care if the IIA knows about what Mia is doing? She’ll tell her boyfriend. She’s about disclosure these days,” Austin said.

  “Today, the IIA is the lesser of two evils. Tomorrow there might be three. Better that she’s with them for now.”

  “And what if they find you?”

  “Nah. The US government won’t let that happen. And one more thing. My mom works for Bleeker. Sis needs to be aware of this. Whatever happens, Mia shouldn’t trust her.” Pete turned and jumped from the cliff in a graceful dive as if an ocean beneath would catch him. He accelerated to an alarming speed. After a burst of color, fabric expanded between his spread legs and arms.

  He flew, and Austin watched Pete soar away.

  Chapter 9

  School

  Mr. Joseph paced the front of the computer lab, and then circled the perimeter of the room. I felt his presence as he stood behind me to inspect the work I might or might not have accomplished in the last thirty minutes. My eyelids felt like tiny lead weights pulled them down every time I exhaled.

  “Miss Taylor? Are you having problems?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You seem to be having a difficult time concentrating.” He squatted beside my chair while holding the seatback with one hand. “You’re behind on this exercise,” he murmured. “It should take ten minutes to complete each lesson in the module. I don’t believe in rushing people, but you normally finish before most.”

  “I didn’t get muc
h sleep last night. You’re right, sir.”

  “I realize that your senior year is exciting, and students are easily distracted. Would you agree?”

  That was a little like calling Hurricane Katrina a gentle breeze. “Um, yes.”

  “If you want to be successful in college, I suggest that you practice staying awake in my class and sleeping at night.”

  “Yes, sir.” I kept my eyes on the screen in front of me.

  “Why don’t you come in after school and finish this exercise tomorrow? I’ll let you catch up after you get some sleep tonight.”

  I frowned. I didn’t trust teachers. Last month, my former science project mentor had turned into, uh, a huge disappointment. Dr. Eli Bleeker had fooled me and then ended up being psycho-killer teacher of the year. I wasn’t falling for anything again.

  “I could catch up in my study hall hour if you’ll write a pass.” I attempted a smile. My tired body and dry mouth protested. The fact that beauty queens used Vaseline on their teeth as an aid for constant smiling flittered across my delirious mind.

  He wasn’t smiling back. “I’ll write a pass and expect you to finish the assignment.”

  “Definitely.” I waited for him to leave while his loud breaths whistled through his nose. He was close enough for me to notice the gray hair in his thick mustache.

  Because I’d twisted to talk to the teacher, I could see the class clown Tracy now holding up a piece of paper behind Mr. Joseph’s back. I moved my head to better read it when Tracy yanked the paper back to his lap.

  Mr. Joseph never turned. “Mr. Dorchester, you may bring me your amusing yet inappropriate illustration.”

  I might be a synesthete, but all teachers and parents obviously had a sixth sense.

  A slight tittering flowed around the room before Tracy produced the paper. A tall boy with an artistic flair, Tracy had drawn Mr. Joseph with woolly eyebrows and an exaggerated smile. Beside him in the picture was a girl in jeans, her T-shirt stretched tightly over two large mounds. I don’t know which was more embarrassing, the fact that he had drawn my breasts so big or that Mr. Joseph stood with his arm around me in a too-friendly way.