The Duals (An Urban Fantasy Thriller)

by Karen Hayes

  I pour myself some water and take a seat opposite her. "No, I don't. What is it I'm supposed to understand?"

  "Our situation! Can't you see? We're both wanted by the police. You're a murder suspect. I may well be one, too. At the very least they suspect me of hurting Rose. Don't forget they know I escaped from a nuthouse! An aggressive psychopath at large! And if that's not enough, we have those wretched baby-murdering gorillas on our back. You really think we'd have survived until now? I know I wouldn't. I know you don't care but that doesn't mean-"

  "Yeah, but why would we want to stay here?"

  She freezes open-mouthed as if hitting an invisible wall. "What do you mean, why would we? They want to help us, don't they?"

  That's exactly what I was trying to achieve: to confuse her. Now that she doesn't look quite so cocky anymore, I can continue,

  "What on earth makes you think they want to help us? Yes, we may be in trouble but that doesn't mean we should join them! Why would we?"

  "Why not?"

  "Well, think about it. We're wanted by the cops. Those so-called 'guardian agents' too are after us, or you rather, because they want to kill you. And still we somehow managed to give them all the slip. There're millions of people living in NYC. You really think they can find us just like that? We have some money. If we're smart and act fast, they'll never find us. They won't have time. We'll leave the city and lie low for a while. Then we'll decide what to do next."

  Sarah slams her hand down on the table. "Well, they found us at the station!"

  "That was our fault. We were stupid. All this constant chasing and fighting confused me. Then all of a sudden you started using your ability... Our mistake was, we shouldn't have gone to the nearest station. It was pretty clear they'd look for us there. We had to get a car and try to put as many miles between us and them as we could."

  "A bit pointless talking about it now," she says. "We're here already. Why should we deny their offer of help? I feel safe here. My nerves are like live wires, can't you feel it?" she clenches a fist to show me how wound up she is. "Here at least it's nice and quiet. They seem to have a lot of money. And clout. You can see that, can't you? They're involved in politics. They seem to run a multimillion-dollar business. You really think we should walk out on them? Why?"

  "There's at least one reason."

  "Which is?"

  I finish my water before replying. "We've no idea how much of what he told us is actually true. It might all be a bunch of baloney. We know nothing about this so-called organization - zilch, nada. You understand that, don't you? By the way, I’m pretty sure this room is bugged. They can hear everything we're saying. Adam is listening to us now."

  "You're paranoid," she leans back on the couch, presses her hand to her forehead and closes her eyes.

  A gaunt, tired girl, disheveled and in cheap clothes looks so out of place in this expensively minimalist room where everything screams money, from the deceptively plain furniture to the make of the water we're drinking.

  "You don't believe anyone, do you?" she asks.

  I cringe. "It has nothing to do with that. All I'm saying is that we have no reason to believe this sleek-haired bastard."

  She opens her eyes and gives me a close look. "Sleek-haired bastard? Are you jealous?"

  "That's ridiculous."

  "You are, aren't you? You just saw a guy who's richer and smarter than you. Poor baby!"

  "If that's what you think, then you're really stupid."

  Sarah gives me a crooked grin. "I may not be the smartest girl on the block, but even I can see that leaving them now when we've just escaped every possible danger would be super stupid. I'm not going anywhere at the moment. You can't talk me into it. But if that's how you feel about it," she points a slim finger at me, "let's do it this way. We'll stay until tomorrow morning. That way we can get some rest and a bit of sleep. We'll talk to Adam and the others. We might find out more in the meantime. Then we'll see."

  "We'll only find out what they want us to find out," I say. Still, she has a point.

  If we tell Adam that we're leaving, he'll either let us go or he won't, depending on his real motives. And if we tell him we want to stay the night, what's gonna happen then? Same thing: he'll either let us go or he won't. One night won't change anything in the grand scheme of things. But it might help us take a good look around and find out what this Adam person is really up to.

  Also, a night of undisturbed sleep won't do us any harm. I'm falling off my feet as it is.

  "Very well," I say. "Let's wait till tomorrow morning. Not that I think it might change anything. True, this isn't a good moment to split up. But if you persist, I might have to leave on my own."

  "We'll see tomorrow," Sarah jumps to her feet and stretches. "Okay, so I'll go there now and tell them we decided to stay. Or do you think," she widens her eyes and continues in a whisper, "that that sleek-haired bastard is listening by the door with his ear pressed to the keyhole?"

  She walks out without waiting for me to reply.

  Sarah

  "Was it my imagination or is Chris really not so keen on staying?"

  This is the first thing Adam asks me once I walk back into the office. Emma is sitting in the corner, preserving a watchful silence.

  I drop into the chair and cover my eyes with my hand. I'm exhausted. No idea what Chris is playing at. I'm not even sure if I want to stay with him for much longer. Part of me is being drawn to him, for sure. It's his attitude that puts me off. All those haughty mannerisms, even the way he speaks...

  "He doesn't think that we can gain anything from your hospitality," I say.

  Adam raises an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

  "He thinks you need us, not vice versa. I spoke to him. He agreed to stay till morning."

  "And what do you think?"

  I watch him from under my lowered eyelids. He studies me with calm curiosity, as if I'm a cat who had the audacity to sleep in his master's favorite chair.

  "What do you think?" he repeats.

  I feel lost. Not very often I get asked this. Normally, my opinion doesn't interest anyone - and these people make it sound as if I mean something.

  Admittedly, it feels good. Especially when asked by someone who looks like Adam.

  "I think that this is a better option than sleeping rough. Or spending the night in jail."

  He grins. "I appreciate your honesty."

  I smile back. "I'm just too lazy to come up with a good excuse."

  I yawn so hard my jaw nearly snaps. Chris did manage to grab a bit of sleep, clever boy. But I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. I might actually crash out right here on the office floor.

  "Sorry," I say. "I'm a bit tired. Do you have somewhere I could grab some sleep? A couch or a mattress in a corner somewhere?"

  Emma suppresses a smile. I glare at her. I don't need this condescending four-eyed cow to poke fun at me. Chris is already plenty.

  "We have a room ready for you," Adam says. "It's quite comfortable. At least you can take a shower and get some sleep."

  I nod eagerly. I don't care how it looks in their eyes. A room! Finally, some good news.

  I jump to my feet. "What are we waiting for?"

  Adam points to Emma. "She'll show you to your room."

  Oops. Not what I expected.

  "How about Chris?" I suddenly remember. They should put him up too, surely? As long as we don't have to share...

  "He has his own room. We'll take him there. Go now. You need some rest."

  I follow Emma out of the room. Before I step into the corridor, I glance over my shoulder. Adam is staring right at me.

  I turn my head away. That's the kind of look men give you when they're interested. He really wanted to show me the room, I could see that in his face.

  There's some kind of tension between us... I don't know. Like a high voltage line. It's as if some force keeps us connected. Like it did earlier with me and Chris.

  Duals and their stupid tricks! Now I'm tot
ally confused.

  We walk over to the elevators and wait.

  "You're a carrier, aren't you?" Emma asks all of a sudden.

  I can't blame her for wanting to make a new friend but I'm too tired. I just can't face more small talk.

  "Yeah," I mutter, studying the omnipresent McAllister posters.

  But there's no stopping her. "Do you like it here?"

  I turn around and stare at her rectangular rimless glasses and meticulously plucked eyebrows. "I don't know yet. And you?"

  "I love it here," she replies. "Adam is very kind to us."

  I knew she'd say that. He's her boss, isn't he? "What kind of ability do you have?" I ask.

  "I'm a clairvoyant."

  "Does that mean you can see into the future?"

  "No," her smile is just a tad too condescending. "I can read other people's thoughts. I can see them as images which come in flashes. I can't control it properly yet."

  How interesting. Still, I also can do a thing or two. My own ability offers true power over people. Before, I was too busy to give it any thought, but now... it's opened up so many opportunities!

  I can do lots of things. Like telling Emma to shut up and leave me alone.

  She blinks and turns her head away. Did she just read my thoughts? I don't care, anyway.

  The elevator arrives. We descend one floor to a long white corridor with a large window running the whole length of the wall. The view is absolutely breathtaking. I slow down to take in the bird's eye panorama of Manhattan. I just can't believe I have a room in a place like this!

  "Sarah?" Emma calls after me. I hurry along, past a row of identical white doors with gilded numbers. It looks like some posh VIP hotel.

  Something beeps in her pocket. She pulls out a tiny cell phone and brings it to her ear, listening. She smiles and nods as if the caller can see her.

  "Thanks," she finally says, then turns to me, replacing the phone. "I've got good news for you."

  "What's that?"

  "Adam asked our external affairs department to run a quick check. Apparently, the NY police have nothing on Chris. They're not looking for him. Nor for you. Your roommate - is it Rose? - is fine."

  What a relief. "Great. Where is she now?"

  "She's in hospital with concussion. Nothing serious. She'll be out soon."

  "But I escaped from the mental clinic, didn't I? Then again, it's got nothing to do with the police. Does that mean we're safe?"

  "You've always been safe," she says. "You don't need to be on the run anymore."

  My mood lightens up. Even Emma doesn't seem so cheerless anymore.

  And my room, I just love it. It's rather small but still about the same size as my old room in Brooklyn which means I can't complain, really. Inside there's a bed, a chair, a computer desk and a kitchenette.

  Emma walks in and opens one of the doors. Inside there's a wardrobe. "It's empty at the moment," she says.

  As if I can't see that! "It's okay," I shrug the backpack off. "I have some clothes with me."

  "I think I'm the same size as you. I'll give you one of my spare practice suits."

  "You don't happen to have any chewing gum, do you?" I ask and immediately bite my lip, as if in embarrassment.

  Emma stares at me. Apparently, I never cease to surprise her. "I don't think so. But I can go and look for some if that's what you want. They might have some in the restaurant."

  I give her a big smile. "I'd really appreciate that."

  Once she's out of the room, I close the door, kick off my shoes and fling them in the corner of the small wardrobe. Then I check the bathroom. It's tiny but clean, gleaming with white tiles. I collapse onto the king-sized bed, not bothering to undress.

  Immediately I think about Chris and his condescending manner of explaining things to me as if I'm some sort of dumb idiot. I can't stand those spoiled rich brats. They seem to think they're in a league of their own. They have this illusion that they can buy everything or everyone they want. That everybody should hang on their every word simply because they have a rich daddy.

  Take Chris, for instance: what does he have to show for himself? Graduated from a college somebody else had paid for? People like him have no idea what it means to make your own way in life. They don't have to study hard to get a scholarship; they don't need to moonlight serving bar tables or keep auditioning for bit parts. Once I even had a gig as a club dancer - not as a stripper, no way, just a quick go-go routine. A week later I had to quit after the manager started, ahem, propositioning me.

  Chris hasn't seen half of what I've been through in life. He has no right to look down on me.

  How could I even date him? What was it I could have possibly seen in him?

  The only thing I've managed to remember from our past is how I once taught him to dance in one of our rehearsal studios. Afterwards, we drank wine on the embankment, sitting on the parapet and swinging our legs above the water.

  We used to laugh a lot then. It's as if those two were some totally different people. Not us. These days, we can't even smile to each other anymore.

  This is my last thought before I crash out.

  Chris

  Once Sarah is gone, they don't leave me alone for very long. I pace the room for a bit, peek through the blinds out of the window, then check the money and the memory stick in my pockets.

  Then the door opens. A disheveled head peeks in: a dark-haired guy with a sharp face. He's in his early thirties. Judging by the head's height from the floor, he's not really tall.

  "You're Chris, right? Come on, then. You're coming with us."

  So they're two of them. The other is a skinny Afro-American chick clad in leather. A headset is clasped to her ear.

  The guy is wearing some camos with large square pockets. He shuffles his feet into the doorway, rubbing his hands. The girl doesn't move.

  Both their faces are covered in generous smatterings of freckles: his pale and barely noticeable while hers stand out loud and clear on the dark skin. Her hair is a fiery red with a weird sheen, pulled tight into a ponytail so that her head seems to be rusted all over. She is considerably taller than him - not as tall as I am, but still of a remarkable height for a woman. It's this difference in height that makes the two look like a comedy double act.

  "I'm Greene," the short guy informs me. "This is Heaven. Come on, dude, let's have a look at your new digs."

  The girl's leather suit creaks as she swings round and staggers off on her spindly legs. I follow her, with Greene trotting next to me.

  These two are duals. I just know it. I can sense the girl. It feels as if I've picked up two positive permanent magnets, trying to bring them close together while their respective magnetic fields resist my effort, tense and taut like powerful soap bubbles.

  I feel the same about this Heaven person: the moment I try to get closer to her, we might be pushed apart by an invisible force steering us away from each other. And if we make an effort to step toward each other, the same force might just hurl us asunder.

  "How far is it?" I ask.

  "It's on the floor below. We'd better take the stairs. The elevator can take forever," Greene points at the door leading to the stairwell. "You're a big guy, aren't you?"

  "Logical. I'm a guardian, after all."

  Greene shrugs. "Sure."

  I said this just to see their reaction. A normal person would start asking questions, act surprised or just twist a finger at a temple. These two don't even bat an eyelid. For them it's same old, same old.

  "Her too?" I nod at Heaven.

  He glances at me over her shoulder. I can feel her taut power bubble thicken, almost pushing me in the chest, away from her. Instinctively I tense up, giving her a push of my own. Heaven loses her step ever so slightly. She has no swagger to her gait at all: her narrow hips don't move as she strides on her unnaturally straight legs, rod-like. She reminds me of a heron.

  Greene seems to be oblivious to our little power game - either that, or he chooses to ign
ore it. He follows us downstairs.

  I turn to him. "Where's Sarah?"

  "Adam asked Emma to take your Yin half to her room. It's on the same floor quite close to her own."

  "My what half?"

  "Yin. Oh, please. As in, yin and yang? Dark and bright, hard and soft, north and south? Never heard of it?"

  "I have. What is it in here?"

  This corridor looks totally different from the one upstairs. It's much wider with lots of doors and offshoots. A sonorous echo of splashing water comes from somewhere around the bend. Do they have a pool here? I can also hear dull thumping sounds like in a boxing ring.

  "Are there many duals living here?" I ask.

  "Loads," Green announces proudly. "Our boss has done a great job. We have arguably every dual in NY living here. Follow me."

  We turn into a corridor that runs along the outer wall. To our left lies a breathtaking panorama of New York behind a row of floor-to-ceiling windows.

  "So how does it work?" I ask.

  "Well, how can I say-" Greene begins but his leather-clad partner interrupts him,

  "I don't think he needs to know."

  She has a deep, low, throaty voice. The kind of voice a female guardian would have.

  Greene promptly shuts up and waggles his white eyebrows, pondering over her words.

  "Actually, Adam has already asked me to join you," I say.

  "Then it's up to him to clue you in," Greene concludes, watching Heaven open one of the white numbered doors. "All I can tell you is that the entire top third of the building belongs to us. Plus a thing or two in the basement. We've got loads of people living here. We have gyms, living quarters, a practice room, lots of classrooms, restaurants, and a recreation area. Here we can do what we want. Over there," he sweeps his hand over the city skyline, 'it' too dangerous for us. In the last couple of years, the Agency has been real serious about getting rid of us."

  As he makes his sweeping gesture, the sleeve of his camo shirt rides up. My gaze is drawn to his arm. I squint, trying to take in the significance of what I'm seeing.