Dark Mind 3:
Voices
in the
Night
Voices in the Night is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Matthew Goldstein
All rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover design by Deja Jones
For my wife
1
The house was quiet. Amy lay on her bed, her arms propping her head up on her pillow, soaking in the calm around her as the first rays of sunlight crept in through the curtains. Cole had been gone for a while. Had it really only been a month? Time moved along at a crawl without him. She wondered what he was up to, if he was having any luck.
She kept his aunt’s cell number with her everywhere she went and stared at it multiple times a day. More than anything, she wished to call, but knew that it would only worry Cole and put her at risk. He had said that the further apart they were, emotionally and physically, the safer she would be. There was little she could do about the emotional part, but she did not want to push her luck. They may no longer be dating, but there was still a strong emotional connection that lingered between them. She had promised him to only use the number in an emergency and that was exactly what she would do.
Was he thinking about her too? Or was he so caught up in what he was doing that he would forget about her? No, that was a ridiculous thought. I wish I at least knew if he found what he was looking for and if he's making progress. Well, no point thinking about it. You’re not going to get any more sleep so get up and do something to take your mind off it.
With effort, she pulled her covers off and stepped out of bed, getting unsteadily to her feet. She looked around her room, but nothing caught her attention. I don’t feel like doing anything. She sighed. Come on, snap out of it! You’re being pathetic.
Most of the time she was okay. The mornings were always the worst when she had nothing to distract herself. Weekend mornings such as this were worst of all since the morning could last for an indefinite length of time. She took a book off her shelf, but after a page she shut it again. She took out the phone number, feeling herself giving in to the temptation. She had her cellphone in her hand, staring at the numbers. Don’t do it! Do not do it!
The first sounds of the morning broke her reverie, and she dashed out of her room, eager for human contact to get her out of her morning slump. Jenny, her foster mother, was meandering down the hall, walking the sleep out of her legs.
“Good morning,” she said, brightening upon seeing Amy. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah, a little restless this morning. Must have been a bad dream.”
“Oh, we'll have to cheer you up then. I was going make some pancakes. Are you hungry?”
“Sounds good.” Amy yawned and followed Jenny into the kitchen to watch her make breakfast. There was never a lull in conversation with Jenny so she was the perfect person to be around when you wanted to be distracted.
“Any plans for the day?” Jenny said as she collected the items for making pancakes.
“Not really. Martin invited me to the movies with some kids from school. Maybe I could go to that.”
“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately.”
“Yeah, he’s been a good friend.” There was much that Amy left out of that sentence. The part that Jenny knew was that he had been particularly nice to Amy ever since Cole left. The part that she didn’t know was that this was because Martin was the one person in whom Amy had confided when Cole was not acting like himself. Ever since that exchange, there had been an almost tangible strengthening of their friendship.
“Well, I think that’s good. I know it’s tough without Cole, but I hope you can still enjoy yourself.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” This conversation is not helping.
“Have you heard from Cole recently?”
“Uh huh. He called while I was out. Everything is good with him.” She had been unable to think of an excuse that would explain why he was gone, but not why he wouldn’t contact her. It was easier to pretend he called her once in a while and hope her foster parents didn’t think it was odd that he never called when they were around.
Jenny poured oil into a pan and flicked on the stove. “By the way, sorry I fell asleep before you got home last night. Did you have fun?”
“Yep.” For once, there was a lull in conversation.
After breakfast, Amy returned to her room to get dressed. She opened her closet and stared at her unappealing choices for the day. She had finally decided on a shirt and was reaching for it when she heard the silent voice in her head.
Hi, Amy.
She froze, her arm partially extended, her whole body trembling. There was nothing but silence. The voice had been so distant, she was unsure whether it had been there at all. “You’re still paranoid,” she said aloud. “You didn’t hear anything.” She breathed deeply, calming her nerves, taking comfort in the silence.
She pulled her shirt off the hanger, but then it was there again, more distinct this time.
Yes, if only you were crazy. Wouldn’t that be easier?
Her eyes widened, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. She bolted to her desk and grabbed the cellphone number.
You’re not going to do that.
“Yes, I am.” But she had hardly gotten her cellphone out before a searing pain in her arm sent it clattering to the floor.
We’re going to have to reestablish the rules.
You bastards. Cole is going to come back eventually and then he's gonna rip you out like last time.
No, the voice said, almost apologetic. Sorry, this time it's going to be a little different. You see, Cole won't be able to help you. Ever.
* * *
They had been driving for ages. Or so it seemed. Cole sat in the passenger seat, watching the trees whiz by in the evening twilight, and wishing he was any closer to figuring something out. Yet, after three weeks, he had made no progress in sensing someone else with his ability, and he was beginning to fear his hypothesis was wrong. Perhaps he really was the only one left.
“Anything yet?” Beth said, sarcastically.
“No, Aunt Beth. Very funny. I'll let you know when I figure it out.”
“Look, I hate to say this because I know you have your heart set on it, but this isn't working. I can't drive aimlessly forever in the hope that some miracle happens. My royalty checks aren’t what they used to be and you’ve already missed too much school. We need a new plan or we're going home.”
“No, we can't. I have to find someone. I can't chance being around anyone close to me until I have these voices under control. Or preferably destroyed.”
“Cole, it's a pipe dream. What are the chances that someone else has this ability, and even if someone did, what are the chances they just happen to have a magical solution? We need to start being realistic before my money runs out or this car breaks down.”
“Just a little longer. Please? Let's go through what we know again. Maybe if I say it out loud it will help us piece it together. Okay, Travis found me by sensing another presence and then focusing on it.” Besides Cole's mother, Travis had been the only other person he had met who had the voices in his head. With Travis gone, Cole was trying to discover the way that Travis had found him to see if he could find othe
rs like Travis. “How do I tap into that state of mind? Do you think I need to delve into my mind, into the voices?”
“Your call, but isn't that risky?” Beth said.
“I'm terrified to even consider it but I'm getting desperate here. Hey, maybe Mom is in there by now and she can help.”
“You remember what happened to the last two to help you. Don't drag your mother into this.”
Cole did remember, all too well. After his mother had passed away, Travis and Cole's grandmother had spoken to him in his mind and told him as much as they knew about the voices. Their reward was that the other voices had destroyed them. Now Cole was waiting for his mother to appear in his mind, like all his other dead ancestors. For all he knew, she may already be there, but he was afraid to access the voices for fear of them giving him an instruction or infecting another's mind.
Cole's thoughts drifted back to his best friend, and ex-girlfriend, Amy, the last one to be infected by the voices. Because of Cole's emotional proximity to her, the voices had gotten into her mind and made her do things, and would have killed her had Cole not stopped them. Now he was on a quest to wipe out these evil voices in his head before they did any more damage. He presumed that as long as he closed off the voices he was safe, but that may only be a short term solution. He needed something more permanent.
He closed his eyes and touched the outer fringes of his mind, moving closer until he heard the dim background noise of voices. He stopped before any of the words became distinguishable. As expected though, he did not sense anything unusual.
Mom? he asked into the blackness. No reply. He asked again and waited. He was unsure if it was his imagination, but as he sat there it seemed as if the background of voices was growing louder with each passing second.
Paranoia seizing control, Cole shot out of his mind, throwing back up the barrier and blocking out the voices. His breathing was heavy, his heart was pounding, and it took him a moment to realize his fists were clenched. “I can't go in there,” he breathed. “I sure hope Mom figures out a way to contact me.”
“I'm calling it a night,” Beth said. “I'm going to find us a motel.”
A short while later they were lugging their suitcases into a dingy motel room. Cole dropped his bag on the floor and flopped onto the bed. “I'm sick of this. I really thought I would find something. I was positive. I really convinced myself this wasn't a stupid idea, that it was going to work.”
Beth sighed, flopping down into a chair. “Don't be so hard on yourself. It was worth a shot.” She picked up the remote control and flipped on the television.
Cole got out his toothbrush, brushed his teeth and then buried his face in his pillow, praying he would disappear. As he lay there, he wondered what was going on back home, and if anyone cared that he was gone.
The next morning he woke up groggy after tossing and turning all night, during which he had resolved not to give up quite yet. They might as well keep searching until they thought of another plan. While Beth was in the bathroom he stretched open the map on the table, his eyes perusing the many states they had traveled. As soon as Beth was out of the bathroom he jabbed the map with a finger. “We haven't gone this way at all yet,” he said. “Can we head in that direction?”
“Sure, whatever,” Beth said. “After breakfast.”
They were on the road again, passing through the thousandth suburban neighborhood. They had been traveling for a few hours, and the first stomach grumblings before lunch were making an appearance. Cole fought against the despair and frustration welling up within himself. With every passing minute, the hopelessness grew. He stared out the window, his eyes glazed over, his thoughts wandering, his concentration gone. And then he jerked upright.
“Turn around,” he said quietly, fighting against the knowledge that whatever just happened had likely been his imagination.
“Right here?” Beth said, confused. “What's back that way?”
“Please, just turn around. I want to see something.”
“All right.” Beth pulled over to the side of the road and made a U-turn. “Where do you want to go?”
“Back around the corner we came from.”
The car turned around the corner... and there it was again. Something. It was so faint that Cole was sure it had been his imagination the first time, but it had happened again. “Yes, yes!” he said with growing excitement. “Keep going this way.” With each passing block it seemed to grow slightly stronger. As an experiment he said, “Turn around again.”
“Tell me what's going on. Do you sense something?”
“I think so. I want to see if it goes away.”
They turned around, and sure enough, that vague nagging sensation grew ever fainter. “Okay, yes, keep going the other way.”
Beth cocked an eyebrow, an expression of interest on her face. “You definitely got something?”
“Yes, I did. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's like it's pulling me gently toward it. This is so cool!”
They drove on and on, his excitement slowly dwindling. The sensation was growing so slowly that it was often hard to tell if it was growing at all or if he was just hoping it was. They drove for hour after hour, until Beth required them to stop for lunch.
Over a greasy burger in a tiny diner, she said, “I'm not doubting you, but are you certain we're actually getting closer? How much farther is it?”
“I wish I knew. I'm pretty sure this is right.”
“Guess I'd better enjoy this burger. Then it's back to driving. Again.”
After they ate, they drove for another hour when it hit Cole like a ton of bricks. The nagging sensation was pulling hard now. They had to be close. They passed an intersection and the nagging reduced. “No, go down that street back there.” Using the sensation like a hot-cold road map, they neared the source. Only a few minutes later, they were driving down a pristine side street where Cole saw someone outside. At once, he knew he had found the source. It was as if a link of invisible waves was emanating from this stranger.
As they neared the person, Cole had to fight to keep a bitter disappointment from overwhelming him. Out on the sidewalk, alone, was a young girl, who could not have been older than six or seven. She was idly bouncing a ball on the pavement and did not bother to look up when the car approached.
Well, she's really young, but maybe she still knows something. If not, maybe her parents can help me. “Stop here,” Cole said.
“Her?” Beth said incredulously, a smirk on her face.
“Yes, her. Wait here.” He climbed out of the car, shaking his stiff limbs, and walked up to the girl. “Hi, there,” he said in his friendliest voice.
She stopped bouncing, and looked up at him, bored. “I'm not allowed to talk to strangers.” She resumed bouncing her ball.
“I'm not exactly a stranger,” he said. “I think we have something in common. Do you have any kind of an ability? Do you hear voices in your head?”
She looked up at him again, but this time her eyes were wide and filled with fear. “I'm not allowed to talk about that.” She began to move away.
“No, wait, it's okay, I have it too.”
To his dismay, she started to cry. “I have to go home.”
Cole struggled to remain collected. “Can you take me there? I'd like to speak with your parents.”
“No! Go away!” she screamed and ran up the pavement to the house in front of which they were both standing. She ran through the front door, slamming it behind her.
Cole stood in the silence of the street, on the verge of tears, indecision paralyzing him. He couldn't give up this easily, not when he was so close.
“What happened?” he heard Beth call from the car.
“I'm going to try talking to her parents,” he called back. He stepped to the front door and rang the bell.
A minute later, a large, angry man opened the door. “Are you the one who was talking to my daughter?” he bellowed.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make her cry,�
�� he said. “Can I please talk to you for a minute?”
“She told me what you said. You will not dirty this house with that trash. I will not have you filling my daughter's ears with nonsense and lies. Now get out of here before I call the cops.”
“No, please, I just want to ask you a question. We can talk somewhere else, just...” He was interrupted by the door slamming in his face. He stood there, refusing to admit defeat, but at a loss as to what to do next. Lost in thought, he did not notice Beth appear by his side.
“I take it, it didn't go so well.” She laid a hand on his shoulder.
“C-can you try talking to them?”
“I'll do my best. No promises, though.”
Half-conscious, Cole allowed himself to be pulled away to the car. He got in slowly, holding onto the hope that Beth would come through. A minute later, she returned.
“I'm sorry, Cole. I think this is a dead end. Come on, let's go before we get arrested.”
“No, no, it... no...” Unwilling to accept reality, his brain had shut down, and he was only dimly aware of driving away.
“Cole!” Beth said, snapping him out of it. “You found one. There have to be more. Now that I know you were right, I'm not going to give up.”
Beth's confidence reduced the devastation, but Cole was still sick to his stomach. If it took this long to find one, who knew how long until he found another, if there even was another.
2
It was not easy. They drove aimlessly for days on end, crossing state boundaries, passing through town after town. It was hours before the sense of that girl faded, and Cole was afraid that the signal was blocking out or masking a different one. When it had finally disappeared, they were out in the middle of nowhere with no leads. They continued in a straight line away, Cole straining for the slightest hint of another person.
He began to lose hope, wondering if perhaps the girl was really the only other, but every time he would bring this up, Beth would retort that the chances of there being no others was slim to none and they were sure to find another soon. Whether she truly believed this or not, Cole was uncertain, but it did help his spirits to hear. Still, each time Beth said this, she sounded a little less optimistic, and soon they were both running on steam. Cole knew that Beth must be exhausted of the constant traveling, but to her credit, she never let it show.
Voices in the Night (The Dark Mind Trilogy Book 3) Page 1