Meeting Midnight: Ankarrah Chronicles Book One

by J. D. Dexter

  Her sigh could fell an elephant. But she seems just as stubborn as I am.

  I guess we’ll see who wins this war. Her eyes seem to glint with challenge.

  “You can call me either Hunter or Jamison, I answer to either.” Hunter adds into the taut silence, dispelling some of the tension.

  “Thank you, Hunter.” Another regal nod.

  “Sure. So how do we go about getting back home?” he asks quickly.

  “You do not.”

  “We live there. We can’t stay here forever.” I wave my arm around taking in the blank white space that’s still too bright.

  “Of course not. This is one of the cleaning rooms. You have rooms in my home.” Once again, I’m the dunce of the class.

  “Great. Can’t wait to see them. However, we will not be staying here for the remainder of our lives. We each have family, lives, jobs, and…things we need to get back to.” I can see my response is going to fall on deaf ears.

  “No. You will remain here. Come.” With this, she turns and seems to fade through a wall.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Does she think we can walk through walls?” I ask Hunter out of the side of my mouth.

  “No idea. Does she really expect us to stay here?” he asks, sounding just as befuddled.

  “No idea back. Is she as crazy-pants as she sounded? We don’t believe all of that stuff about multi-verse stuff…Right?” I really want the answer to be something other than yes.

  “If we can get out of this room, we might be able to figure that part out, too.” He walks up to the wall, his hand lifting.

  Right before he touches the wall, he fades just as quickly as Anixia did.

  Huh. Guess that’s how the doors work. I walk up to the wall, my hand already in the air. I see my fingers graze the white wall before a sucking feeling pulls at me, like when you were little and put your hand over the end of the vacuum nozzle.

  I stumble a couple of steps, getting my bearings before fading through any more walls. Hunter’s waiting for me on the other side. While I’m glad to see Hunter, I’m more surprised to see a color other than white.

  Different than most commercial buildings, at least in the U.S., these walls are as far from beige or gray as they can possibly get. Rich, dark jewel tones are swirled and splashed over the surface of the walls. Van Gogh’s Starry Night is what comes to mind in this hallway. No defined brush strokes mar the expanse, making it seem as if each color diffuses into the next seamlessly. It takes me a second to realize the colors are actually moving over the walls, like watching a screen saver on a computer.

  The air smells like rain, but without the accompanying humidity. It’s a delight to the senses; I can almost taste the rain, all but feel the droplets of water against my skin. I lift my hands to touch my hair; nope, no frizzies. This is the best kind of rain in the whole world.

  “Why are you frisking your hair?” Hunter asks, perplexed.

  “Have you seen naturally curly hair in high humidity?”

  “Not that I know of. Should I have?” He looks like most guys when confronted with girly issues: unconcerned, uninterested, and a little frightened of learning about them.

  “Not necessarily.” I pat my hair again, giving it a little fluff. I grin to myself.

  “On that note, do you think we should stay here or wait for Maybe Mommy to come back?” Hunter asks, busy looking up and down the hallway.

  I gape at the back of his head. “Where did you come up with Maybe Mommy?” I ask tremulously.

  No answer, but he definitely becomes more interested in scouting the hallways.

  “Hunter?”

  I poke him in the back.

  “I can read your mind,” he mumbles, so low I barely catch it.

  What the crap?

  “Exactly. That’s why I didn’t tell you,” he answers my mental question.

  “Can you see into my mind?” There are some things that a girl needs to keep a mystery.

  “No. It seems to be only when you’re talking to yourself. Which, I have to admit, is pretty funny.”

  “But I can’t hear you,” I complain.

  “I don’t think so. I’ve been calling you and calling you. But good news, it doesn’t seem as if Maybe Mommy could read my mind either,” he offers as consolation.

  “Wait. What? She said she could.” I look at him, surprised.

  “No idea why she said that. I was bad-mouthing her quite a bit and she didn’t seem to notice or react,” he says sheepishly.

  “Well, that’s good news at least. So, I can signal you if I get in danger, but the opposite won’t be true. That’s going to suck.” I need to be able to save him, too. Especially since I’m the reason we’re here.

  “Yeah, it’s going to suck being the knight in shining armor,” he says irreverently, his lips in a smirk.

  “But what happens if we get separated? How am I supposed to be able to find you?” I come close to sobbing. I don’t know that my emotional fortitude can handle that right now.

  I have always thought of myself as strong, able to stand on my own, capable of giving and taking comfort and help when needed. Lately, I feel like I’m always taking; it’s not something I’m comfortable learning about myself, especially right now. I would like to be an emotional rock for Hunter, but he doesn’t seem to need that from me. At least not right now. Which is probably good, since I feel like a basket-case.

  “Hey, hey, hey.” He grabs my face gently. “We’ll be together, we’ll be fine,” He reassures me.

  I lean against him, letting my heart settle back into my chest, instead of sitting in my throat. “Is there going to be a time when I get to save you from an emotional breakdown?” I ask, my words muffled by his pecs.

  “I already had mine. You were there. I believe your saving me was interrupted.” He gives me a gentle hug, his chest bouncing softly with a chuckle.

  “Ah. Well, that makes it just about even—you know, once you have about a million more of them,” I say sarcastically.

  “Are you keeping score?” His eyebrows lift.

  “No, not really. But it just dawned on me that I haven’t been a very good support system. I’m the one needing all of the support lately. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m not there for you, or that I expect you to always to take care of me without getting any support or comfort in return,” I tell him honestly, laying part of my heart bare.

  “Like I said, you have been there for me. I don’t feel like you’re taking advantage or anything else like that. I want to be there for you as well. I want you to be able, and willing, to turn to me first. Even when we get back.” His voice trails off, his hands bringing my face up to meet his intense gaze.

  I see my own vulnerability reflected in his eyes, and can do nothing but meet the need in their chocolate depths.

  “I want that, too. You’ve somehow gotten into the deepest parts of me, and I feel you inside me in ways that shouldn’t be possible,” I say softly into the space between us. I take a deep breath. “I love you, Hunter.” I can’t help that my heart might be shining out of my eyes.

  His breath shudders out as his eyes slide closed. A slow, sexy smile pulls his mouth up, his micro dimple winking at me.

  “I love you, too, Finley,” he says confidently, his face coming closer to my own.

  “So much for going slow, huh?” I joke with him.

  “Indeed.”

  “I still want to go-“

  I’m interrupted by a boom sounding and the ground shaking beneath our feet like an earthquake.

  As everything settles again, he pulls me into him, lifting my face to meet his. Just as his lips graze mine, another boom and shimmy disrupt us.

  He laughs as the floor steadies once more. “One of these times, we’re going to actually get to end a kiss because we want to, not because we’re interrupted or late to meet your family.” His grumpy, sexy voice sends shivers down my spine.

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “I h
ave a really inappropriate line in response to that, but I think we should try to find our way out of here.” He gives me a swift, firm kiss before letting me go.

  As we turn left down the hallway, an alarm sounds, sending discordant shrieks through the air, piercing my ear drums. Covering my ears, I try to yell above the alarm. Hunter’s shaking head lets me know that he can’t hear me.

  “Let’s try to find a doorway.” I think at him.

  He gives me a cheeky smile as he nods. We head down the hallway, and I’m amazed again by the walls. The colors on the walls are still swirling, blending, and merging. But, just as in the white room, there is no indicator of a door, just smooth walls with colors that move.

  We keep walking, the wailing of the siren starting to give me a headache. If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to start going crazy. We seem to be bending around a wide curve, the floor no longer arrow-straight. As we pass by the apex of the curve, the colors change on the walls. They become reds, browns, oranges, and yellows: they remind me of Kansas sunsets in the spring and summer. The fiery sign-off of the sun before it falls below the horizon. These colors are shifting along on the length of the wall just like the previous colors.

  Right now, I’m really missing the obligatory exit signs and “You Are Here” maps found in most buildings in the U.S. Up ahead, I see what looks like a teenager slide around the remainder of the curve. I yell, but since Hunter can barely hear me from two feet away, I doubt this kid even noticed that we were there.

  I start into a jog, really bemoaning the fact that I’m not wearing the right kind of bra for running. My ladies are too big to be running unsupported. Do I try to cover my ears, or hold my boobs?

  Ears or boobs? Ears or boobs?

  The decisions we busty ladies have to deal with. I drop my hands, holding the ladies against my chest.

  Ah, sweet bliss.

  I turn to see Hunter’s face creased in a kind of jealous joy as he glances at my hands. Men and boobs are so weird. I shoot him a wink, his long legs able to maintain a quick walk to my slow jog.

  Catching sight of the teenager again, I kick up a little more speed, and see Hunter match my pace out of the corner of my eye. Really wishing we could get these stupid alarms to shut off, I begin wishing I had an extra set of hands to cover my ears.

  After jogging what seems like close to a mile, we finally come up to a big open area. Like a really bland hotel lobby, the space is open and has various openings and tunnels leading off all sides.

  Skidding to a stop just inside the space, I notice that white reigns supreme here as well. I’m really worried about the interior decorating sensibilities of these—Ankarrahans? Ankarris?…who knows how they identify themselves—because all of the color is in the hallways, with the big rooms a staid, boring white.

  Across the room, which is roughly the size of a football field, I see a small gathering of people. I wave my arms at them, trying to get their attention. Considering the screeching of the alarms, yelling won’t help at all.

  Hunter joins in once he spies the people on the other side of the room as well. Jumping up and down, arms waving around like he just doesn’t care, he gives it his best shot. I mentally laugh at the picture we must make: two tall people jumping up and down like their favorite sports team has just scored.

  All at once the shrieking alarms stop, the silence oppressive in the sudden absence of sound. Not missing a beat, I yell at the cluster of people.

  Their heads whip around at the ladylike call I fling at them. While I can’t see their facial expressions from this far away, their body language is pretty easy to read: they’re unhappy. Their bodies are stiff, a couple of them even look like they’re getting ready to charge us.

  Keeping my arms up in the universal sign for surrender, Hunter and I walk toward them slowly. As we get closer, a few of them break off from the group and head our way. We stop near the middle of the room, Hunter and I waiting for them to catch up to us.

  The people heading our way are right around five feet tall, which makes them considerably shorter than Hunter and me. I feel like a giant Amazon standing next to them. I can’t imagine how Hunter feels about it.

  Two more masculine looking, one more feminine looking, they each have a hilt of some kind sticking up over their shoulders. All three look to be in their late-twenties or early-thirties. Across each of their chests, a giant X made of some type of webbing material is littered with weapons: knives, curved blades, metal stars, something that looks like a claw, a couple of gun-looking things. And whole lot of things I’ve never seen before in my life.

  The two who look like males have sharp features: high cheeks bones; long, thin noses; surprisingly full mouths; eyebrows with a defined arch; and eyes of the most beautiful lapis lazuli color with a ring of gold along the outer line of the iris. One of them has black hair, shaved on the sides, longer on the top brushed back in a Macklemore type of look. The other has golden brown hair in a shade that looks like it comes straight from the caramel-making facility. His is styled almost exactly like the first male’s, but with the longer portion braided down the middle on top of his skull.

  The female is as remarkable as the men. Her hair is a nimbus of blond curls that is only a couple shades darker than Hunter’s color. Pulled up in a high ponytail, her curls are an explosion of color against the drab black of her uniform. Her eyes a startling emerald color ringed in amethyst, a stunning combination that is nothing that we have on Earth. Her lashes are a fringed blanket of slightly darker gold than her hair, bringing to mind the beautiful colors of a peacock. Her mouth, while plump, looks so very normal after the vivid colors of her hair and eyes.

  The look in her eyes is ice cold, her hand is resting on a weapon settled on her right hip. Her fingers are flexing over the hilt of what looks like a sword of some kind.

  She opens her mouth, and what follows is a lyrical gibberish. Almost melodic, certainly soothing, but I understand absolutely zero of what she just said. Sang?

  “Sorry, I don’t understand you. Do you speak any English?” I give it a shot. Maybe Mommy knows English, so there’s hope.

  A look of suspicious understanding dawns in her eyes.

  “What is your business here?” Even in English her voice is a pleasant timbre, oddly musical.

  “We were talking with Anixia when she disappeared. We’re trying to find our way home,” I answer honestly.

  All three look at me with something akin to horror on their faces, even backing up a couple of steps. The black-haired male shouts something over his shoulder to the rest of their group, who proceed to race out of the room as if Satan were haunting their footsteps.

  “Anixia was here?” the woman trembles, shock apparent on her face.

  Hunter and I look at each other. What the heck is going on? “That was the name she gave us.” I shrug my shoulders, turning to look at the woman again.

  “We must leave. You must leave. It is not safe here.” She reaches out, tugging on my arm, her grip as hard as steel.

  Pulled off my feet, I can do nothing but trip after her. Hunter follows close behind, quick enough to catch my free hand. We run through the opening ahead of us, one I hadn’t seen from the far side of the room. We rush out into another hallway that looks like a painting, bright splashes of color. We’re either running too fast to notice, or these colors are stationary. I really like the shifting walls.

  My attention is soon stuck on something other than shifting screen saver walls: a huge…thing…steps into our path, forcing us to all screech to a halt. The three natives stop on a dime while only the female’s hand on my arm pulls me to a stop. Hunter crashes into my body.

  Another alarm fills the air. This one sounding more like the emergency vehicles in the U.K. At least as far as television can be believed.

  The three natives move into position in front of Hunter and me, their hands soon full of weapons. I feel like I’m sending children in to fight my battles. And while I have some self-defense traini
ng, I’m not equipped or trained to take down a giant.

  Standing almost ten feet tall, the beast throws its massive head back and shrieks, almost louder than the sirens that were going off earlier. The sound is piercing, and I check to make sure my ear drums haven’t ruptured and that I haven’t bled down my neck.

  Nope, all good.

  The scary thing looks like the worst amalgamation of Star Trek Klingons mixed with the offspring of a Lord of the Rings Orc and a werewolf mid-shift from the Underworld movies.

  Spittle flying from its open maw, its teeth look like stainless steel razors. It has a multi-tool for a left hand, while its right hand is roughly the size of a platter holding a sword longer than my leg.

  Scantily dressed in just a loin cloth, the muscles roped over the body of this beast make The Rock look like a flaccid barbie doll. The head is sparsely covered in tufts of thick, bushy hair.

  A loud buzzing fills the air, the swords our saviors are holding begin to emit a hum, zings and fingers of electricity snapping over the blades. Spreading out as much as possible across the hallway, the two males move a couple steps forward, leaving the female as the last line of defense in front of Hunter and me.

  The black-haired male dips down, his quads bunching under his uniform pants, rocking slightly from foot to foot. His blade swiping through the air so fast it’s hard to keep track of with my eyes. Some invisible signal goes off, and the beast rockets down the enclosed space towards us.

  The black-haired man stands no chance against this thing; he barely makes it up to the waist of the beast. I back up a couple of steps involuntarily, pulling Hunter into my shivering body. A cold sweat coats my body in seconds, my breath backs up in my lungs.

  The black-haired male almost kneels, his sword held loosely out to the side. Right as the beast swipes at the male with his leg-long sword, the male leans backwards in his best Matrix move, his own sword coming up and slicing through the arm of the beast holding the sword. Black liquid arcs through the air, splashing and splattering on walls the color of a springtime bouquet. The walls begin to dissolve where the black liquid has touched it. Soon I can see through the wall, the pristine white walls of the bigger room staring back at me through the holes.