The Missing

by Shiloh Walker

  The first taste, spicy and savory, exploded on her tongue, and she didn’t bother waiting for the food to cool as she quickly devoured half of it.

  “You didn’t sleep last night.”

  Rose’s voice was quiet and devoid of emotion, but nonetheless, Taige heard the worry in it. She shrugged. “I slept a little.”

  “A little—how little? What did you get, maybe two hours?”

  “Probably,” Taige muttered. She shoveled another spoonful of food into her mouth, but she knew better than to think Rose would let it go at that.

  “Those dreams again?”

  Taige nodded haltingly.

  “Was he there?”

  He being her uncle. Leon Carson had been sleeping in his bed when Taige finally fell asleep, but when she woke up from the dream, he had been standing over her bed. “You had another one of those devil dreams,” he’d said, shaking his head in that sad, mournful way of his, like she’d done something to let him down.

  He always seemed to know when one of the dreams came. The dreams were just as hard to control as the visions that came to her during the day. Vision, prophecy, it didn’t matter what she called them. They happened, and they had for as long as she could remember. Taige had been eight years old when she had the dream where her parents died—and they’d died that very night.

  “Yeah. He was there.”

  “Did he . . . ?” Rose glanced around, knowing how much Taige hated anybody to know what her uncle did.

  Taige shook her head. Nobody was standing close enough to hear. “No, Rose. He didn’t do anything. He won’t, either.”

  Rose shook her head. She had a scarf wrapped around her head, completely covering the wealth of dark hair. The scarf was white, and Taige knew that somehow, when Rose left, it would be as white then as it was now. Taige couldn’t work in the kitchen without covering herself with stains. She didn’t know how Rose managed it.

  “You can’t know that, girl. He done it before. He gets mad enough, he’ll do it again.”

  “No. He won’t.” Because Taige knew he had believed her when she told him she’d kill him if he ever touched her. Leon was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. Self-preservation was high on his list of priorities. He couldn’t do his preaching on Sunday, telling the damned that they must repent if they didn’t want to burn in the lake of eternal fire, not if he was dead.

  Taige looked down at her bowl, still half full. The food she had eaten weighed in her belly like lead, and she blew out a breath. She turned to dump the jambalaya and caught Rose looking at her with mournful eyes. “I’m sorry, girl,” Rose murmured. “Come on, we don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  Guilt churned in Taige’s stomach as she looked into Rose’s dark eyes. She hated making Rose feel bad, inadvertent as it was. “I know you worry. And I know it’s because you love me.”

  Rose smiled and pressed her hand against Taige’s cheek. “You look so much like your mama. You’ve got so much of her inside of you. Not just your gift, either.” Her voice dropped. “It is a gift, Taige. You’re going to do great things with your life. Just like your mama did. But you got your daddy’s strength. You’ve had to, to live the life you have. Lord, but I wish he had some family left around here that you could have gone to. You would have been so much happier if you had family instead of that crazy uncle.”

  Taige covered Rose’s hand with hers and smiled. “I got a family, Rose. I got you.” It was nothing more than the truth. Taige had lost her parents, and the crazed bastard they put her with would have liked nothing more than to beat the “evil” out of her, but Taige hadn’t been alone because of Rose and because of her son. Rose and Dante were the family that Taige hadn’t thought she would have.

  Rose had been there when Taige got her period. Rose had been there when Taige came face-to-face with bigots, and Rose had been there as the years passed and Taige’s weird gift became stronger and stronger. It’s a hard road you’ve got to walk, Taige, half-white, half-black, and different from just about everybody else. You’re different in ways most people couldn’t understand, because you got the sight.

  But you’re strong. You can do it. And I’ll always be here, Rose had murmured to her, time and time again. True to her word, Rose always had been there, and Taige loved her dearly.

  “Oh, baby.” Rose pulled Taige in close, holding her tight. Taige breathed in the familiar scents of lotion and spice and fought the burn of tears in her eyes. She pulled back when Rose’s arms loosened and opened her mouth to say something.

  But the skin on her spine rippled. A cold chill danced along her flesh.

  Rose recognized the look, although Taige knew that her friend didn’t truly understand. As much as Rose meant to her, Taige wished desperately for her mother, for somebody who would understand the odd, disturbing dreams, the random visions, and the pressing need to act. It was imperative, as important to her as breathing, and although she might well pay dearly, she had to act.

  “I’ve got to go,” Taige said unnecessarily.

  She pushed the bowl into Rose’s hands and was out the door before Rose even managed to call out, “Be careful.”

  The door banged shut behind her, and Rose lifted her gaze to the heavens. “Lord, take care of that girl.”

  THE currents were strong.

  Cullen rode the boogie board through the waves, a grin splitting his face and exhilaration pulsing through him. He wasn’t ready to hit some of the big waves, but he could see why it would be such a thrill.

  There was nothing like the feel of it, the water moving around him, under him, almost like it was alive. He hit the shallows and immediately turned to head back out when something caught his attention: the little yellow inflatable boat, bobbing up and down in the waves, drifting farther and farther from the shore. A couple had brought it down with them, and they’d let their little boy play in it on the sand, and for a while, the dad had pulled the boy around in it in the shallow water.

  The sun shone down brightly, sparkling on the water, and Cullen squinted against the light as he stared at the yellow boat. The boy was there, and even at a distance, Cullen could see the stark terror on his face as the kid realized how far he was from the shore.

  “Hey!”

  He saw the boy about the same time the kid’s parents did, and all three of them hit the water. But the waves were rough and getting rougher. Cullen swam toward the raft, outdistancing the parents. He was a strong swimmer, but he was used to the pool at the Y, not the rough waters of the Gulf.

  In slow motion, he saw it as the wave came up, smacking the little boat the same way a kid might play with a tub toy. There was a high-pitched scream that ended abruptly as the boy went over into the water. Cullen was still too far away. He swam faster, pushing his body harder than he’d ever done before. He ducked under, trying to see the boy. Salt water stung his eyes. Nothing. He was aware that more people had joined him. He kept looking and looking until his lungs burned and he had to surface. He dove again and again. But the third time he came up, he knew he’d been too late. Others continued to dive, and he heard their voices, heard somebody crying, and knew it was the boy’s mom.

  “Shit.” Cullen didn’t know who had said it, but he echoed it wholeheartedly. His heart felt like a leaden weight, and he took a deep breath, prepared to go under again.

  She burst out of the water looking like a mermaid. Water dripped from her hair, her nose, her cheeks—and from the boy she held in her arms. The mermaid legend seemed even more apt as she looped an arm around the boy’s upper body and started to swim for shore.

  TOO many people, Taige thought. She didn’t fight the water, just let it carry her and the still child closer and closer to shore until she could put her feet down and walk through the sand. It dragged at her, slowing her down, when she knew she had to hurry.

  Hurry.

  Hurry.

  A distant echo in her mind, Taige knew the kid was fading away, that she almost hadn’t made it. Still
might not. She dropped to the ground, the boy hitting the sand harder than she’d meant. Immediately, she bent over him and pinched his nose. She blew into his mouth. Stopped, checked to see if he was breathing. His pulse was there, but it was faint, and she administered rescue breathing again.

  Behind her, she heard somebody crying, felt somebody trying to grab her. “My baby, let me have my baby!”

  Taige turned her head and snarled. “Can I get him breathing first?” Then she focused back on the boy. Focused on the feel of him—not physical, but him, the ethereal part of a person that remained long after death. The soul. All she had to do was keep the soul inside him until she could make him breathe on his own.

  She felt it, that tiny spark, as his breathing kicked in, and she shoved him onto his side and stroked his back as he vomited up salt water.

  He was crying and choking by the time he was done, but he was breathing. He was going to be fine. Taige whispered a prayer of thanks, and then she stood.

  If she could just get out of sight before she collapsed, she’d be okay.

  AS the boy wrapped his arms around his mom’s neck, crying and whimpering, everybody around them breathed out one huge, collective sigh of relief. Cullen turned to look for her, the girl who had saved the boy’s life.

  “Miss, there is no way . . .” The father turned to look for her about the same time that Cullen did.

  But she was already gone. Down the beach, where the land curved inward, he could see her, walking with long, fast strides. Quietly, Cullen separated himself from the mass of people and started jogging down the beach. His legs felt damned heavy, and the fine, sugary sand seemed to turn into quicksand, pulling at his exhausted legs, but he kept going.

  There was no way he wasn’t going to talk to her this time, not after that.

  He hadn’t even realized she had been on the beach, and he had been looking. How could he not have noticed her? He’d been waiting for another glimpse of her since he’d seen her that first time three days earlier. He wasn’t going to sit around hoping for another one.

  He caught up with her just as she reached the boardwalk. “Hey, wait a minute.”

  She barely paused. “Go away.”

  She didn’t even look at him, just kept walking along the sand with her head down and her arms crossed over her belly. She looked sort of sick, her dusky skin a little gray. She was walking fast, but now that he was close to her, he could see she was wobbling a little. She stumbled, and he reached out to try to steady her, but she jerked away. She tossed her wet hair back from her face and gave him a hard, cold glare. “I said go away,” she snarled again.

  Didn’t seem possible, but her voice was every bit as sexy as the rest of her, even as hot and angry as it was. He stared into her eyes, hardly even aware of what she had said. Gray eyes, a pale, almost surreal silvery gray that glowed against the soft caramel color of her skin. Her lashes were long, thick, and curly.

  Cullen was still staring at her, almost dumbfounded, when she snorted. “You got a hearing problem? I told you to go away.” She shook her head, mumbled under her breath, and turned on her heel, stalking away from him.

  “Hey, I just wanted . . .” His voice trailed off. Wanted to what? Tell her that he had dreamed about her? Tell her that what she had just done was amazing? Ask her out? All of the above? But she just kept walking on, her body stiff.

  Over her shoulder she called out, “Yeah, I know what you want.”

  He heard the innuendo in her voice as clear as day, and oddly, it stung. Yeah, that sort of thing had crossed his mind. How could he look at a girl who looked like that and not think about it?

  But it wasn’t just that. There was more to it.

  Considering the way she kept moving away from him, like she couldn’t stand to be on the same stretch of beach, Cullen suspected he wasn’t going to get a chance to find out what it was.

  “YOU damned that boy.”

  Wearily, Taige opened her eyes and saw her uncle standing in the doorway. “I saved him from drowning, Uncle.”

  “God wanted him, and you stole that child from His arms with that evil inside of you.”

  Baldly, Taige responded, “If God wanted the boy, then He would have taken the boy.” She wanted to roll over and go to sleep. Her entire body ached, and she couldn’t get warm. It was like that anytime she did this, reaching out to another person using her mind. It was a hell of a lot easier to pull a drowning person to shore than it was to pull a fading soul back into life, and saving a drowning person wasn’t all that easy.

  If you’d been faster, he wouldn’t have been so far gone, part of her whispered. That boy almost died because of you.

  “That boy was meant to die! He cheated death, and now all his life, evil will follow him. Just like it follows you.”

  Taige smirked. “Only thing following me is you, Uncle. Does that mean you’re evil?”

  Leon Carson, unlike most of the locals, was pale as death. He spent his days inside his office or inside the little ramshackle church off of Highway 20. He rarely went outside, and it showed in his pale, almost pasty skin. Now that pale skin flushed an angry red. “Evil. You insult the Almighty when you insult one of His servants.”

  “I insulted you, Uncle. Not one of God’s followers.” Knowing he wasn’t going to leave her alone anytime soon, Taige forced her aching body upright. She still wore the tank suit and shorts she’d had on earlier, and the shorts had dried stiff and felt scratchy on her body. Her teeth felt all fuzzy, and she had a feeling she stank to high heaven. She wanted a shower, but she wasn’t taking one here.

  When her uncle was in one of these moods, the only safe place to be was far, far away.

  She pushed her aching, stiff body out of bed and slid her feet into a worn pair of tennis shoes. Leon continued to rant at her, punching at the air with his fists, threatening her with fire and brimstone. He took up most of the doorway, and rather than risk brushing past him, she opened the window over her bed. She heard him moving closer, and she shot him a warning look.

  He fell silent, and she smirked, knowing that he was remembering her promise. “Someday you will have to pay for all your sins, girl,” he whispered. He shook his head and even managed to give her a mournful look, as though the thought hurt him.

  “At least I know my list of sins will be shorter than yours, Uncle dear,” Taige muttered as she ducked out of the window. It was a good drop. Like most of the houses this close to the water, Leon’s house was set on stilts. The ground was probably a good twenty feet down, and she hit hard, the jolt rattling her entire body. Still, it was better than staying in that house one more second.

  Behind her, she heard Leon railing on about the sins of being a demon child. Tuning him out, she headed off in the direction of Rose’s. It was a good three miles on foot. If Taige hadn’t left her bike at the beach, she could have made it in less than thirty minutes. But on foot, it was probably going to take a good hour. At least she was away from Leon. Her legs were heavy and leaden. Each step felt like she was slogging away through mud instead of walking along the roadside.

  When the headlights splashed on the road beside her, Taige felt a chill dance up her spine. The car went on by at a snail’s pace, and Taige refused to look toward the driver or the passenger. It kept on down the road, and Taige started to run. Adrenaline burned away some of the exhaustion, and she fell into a quick, easy pace. She saw a car come around the curve, and she knew it was the same car. As it started toward her, she darted off the road into the grass and ran through, heading for the Paradise Dunes, one of the privately owned resorts. The lights shone brightly, but it was a good half mile away, and behind her, she heard a couple of car doors slam, followed by an obnoxious male laugh.

  One quick glimpse into their minds told her they were drunk, and as one of them called to the other, she recognized the voice and the name: Joey Rosenberg and Lee. She couldn’t remember Lee’s last name, but she knew them. They were trouble.