AIR Series Box Set

by Amanda Booloodian

  Rider moved his bundle carefully onto the ground and I stared down onto myself.

  This is wrong, I thought, so wrong. I couldn't be dead. Yet, here they were, standing over my body.

  No! I thought vehemently. This wasn't going to happen today.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated hard. Something was missing. I could feel parts of me that were torn away. It was like a puzzle that needed solving, only someone kept removing pieces. Sensing bits of energy around me, I concentrated harder, pulling it into myself. It became easier to spot the parts of me that were no longer attached and I pulled each one in. More pieces emerged and I wrapped them together. Parts began flying toward me on their own.

  The air felt tangible once again. Noises flooded back, although they weren't recognizable. Intense pain flared as the last pieces of the puzzle slammed into me. I cried out and it grew quiet.

  The ground trembled with hurried steps. Fierce agony shot through me when someone pulled me up. Tears began running down my face and I opened my eyes.

  Logan's was the first face I saw. He looked older, yet more real to me than he ever had. He said something and pulled me close to him. Individual sounds were amazingly clear, but they each came at me at such a rush that I could not distinguish one from the other. The entire world seemed to be on fast forward, while I was stuck in slow motion.

  Fighting through the pain and the assault of sound, I struggled to pull up the important facts: Logan, Vincent, and Rider. My mind was a tumble of half coherent thoughts. As I grabbed at them, I discovered the one I needed.

  “Logan,” My voice came out quiet and scratchy. Clearing my throat, I continued. “Is it dead?” There was a lurch as the feeling of slow motion died and the world sped up.

  Logan started laughing, though tears ran down his face. “It's dead.” He hugged me close to him, which made me wince in pain.

  “Is Rider okay?” I asked.

  “He's going to be fine,” Logan assured me, without pausing to check.

  Rider and I didn't get to go home. The doctor arrived on scene and insisted that we be taken to the Farm. An oxygen mask was thrust over my face before I could object. Not that I would have objected. My back felt scorched. After managing to push the mask away long enough to tell Logan to take Gran to the Farm, I settled in, face down on the bed.

  It wasn't an ambulance we went back in, but a work truck fitted so our beds wouldn't roll around. Several times on the ride back, I tried to fall asleep. Each time, the man that sat next to me made me wake up. He wasn’t nice about it either. It would be nice if I could say I made some witty or sarcastic remark, but I was too exhausted for witty, and in too much pain for sarcasm. I endured the trip in silence.

  Rider was silent on the bed next to me. Logan and Vincent didn't ride with us. Too many bodies, not enough space. When we reached the Farm, we were ushered onto the property in record time.

  Once again, I found myself in the medical ward at the office. Dr. Yelton had us wheeled into separate rooms. The doctor came in and kept talking to me, but I gave up listening. The words stopped making sense. There was too much pain and I wanted to sleep.

  When I woke up again, the discomfort was almost gone. The room was dark, but I had no idea if it was the same night or the next.

  “You're awake.” Vincent came into view, although slightly out of focus.

  “I think so.” My tongue felt thick in my mouth, but I felt pretty good. When I tried to wipe a stray hair out of my eyes, I discovered why. An IV pumped something into me. Whatever it was, I hoped they kept it coming.

  “How are you feeling?” Vincent asked.

  “Not bad, actually,” I responded. “How's Rider?”

  “He'll be fine soon. Werewolves heal quickly.” His voice was coarse.

  “Where is everyone? Gran and Logan?”

  “Logan is checking on his kids. Your grandmother went with him to pick some things up for you.”

  “And you stayed behind. You're not going to blame yourself for this, are you?” I asked, remembering our last conversation.

  “This wasn't my fault. This one's on you,” His voice had a sting to it, even though his face was a blank mask.

  “On me?” I asked.

  “All on you.” His anger lingered in the air, even though it didn't show on his face.

  Trying to wrap my brain around what he was saying was like trying to catch dandelion seeds in the wind. The drugs were making my mind too muddy. His words had a ring of truth to them.

  “What attacked us?” I asked.

  Vincent shrugged. “They don’t know yet, but there are tests that need to be run.”

  “What was it doing there?” I asked.

  Vincent's anger broke, marring his features. “You know why it was there.” His voice came out cold.

  I felt confused. The medicine was making my mind slow. Lifting my arm, I focused on where the IV entered. I looked it over as carefully as my sluggish brain would allow. Then I plucked it out.

  “What the hell?” He raised his voice, but he didn't sound as angry as he had a few moments earlier.

  Vincent grabbed my arm and put pressure on the spot where I had pulled out the IV. I took a few deep breaths and looked at him.

  “I know why it was there?” I asked.

  Before Vincent could reply, the door opened. I wasn't in a position to see who came in, which made me suddenly uncomfortable.

  “What are you doing?” It was Rider's voice.

  Vincent’s features went stony. “Go back to your room.”

  “Not with you in here yelling.” Rider came into view. He had a few bruises, but otherwise, he looked okay. Relief spread over me.

  “We were having a conversation,” Vincent said.

  “No, you were yelling,” Rider said.

  “Never mind, Vincent. How are you doing?” I asked. Vincent glared at me, but I ignored him. Well, I ignored him as much as I could, considering he was holding my arm.

  “I am well, but the doctor wants to run more tests.” Rider looked back and forth between Vincent and me. Finally, he turned to me and said, “Do you need assistance?”

  I shook my head. “I'm fine.” I tried to shake Vincent off my arm.

  “She ripped out her IV,” Vincent said.

  “The medicine tubes?” Rider asked.

  “I said, I'm fine,” I repeated. My mind was less muddled, but some of the pain had returned. Vincent carefully released the pressure on my arm. Once he had assured himself that I wasn't bleeding, he stepped away.

  “Do we know anything about what attacked us?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” said Vincent. “But you can count on more of them.” He turned and left the room.

  “Does that mean there are more in the area?” Rider asked.

  “I'm not sure what he means,” I said.

  I looked at Rider. The full impact of what Vincent said hit me. The entire attack was my fault. Without backup, I took one of the Lost who I was supposed to keep safe on a hike. Even after knowing that I had a target on my back. I didn't know anything about the thing that attacked me, but I knew there was a different monster in the area, and I went out anyway.

  “I'm really sorry about what happened,” I said.

  Rider was quiet for a bit. “Is that what he was yelling about?”

  “No, but that's what he's mad about.”

  “This caught both of us off guard. There is nothing to be sorry about.”

  “Actually.” I hesitated. “You know how you thought of me as dinner?”

  Rider nodded.

  “Well, you aren't the only one who thinks I should be on the menu. I knew that, and I took you out.”

  Rider looked confused. “Are we friends?” he asked.

  The question came out of nowhere. “Yes,” I said without thinking. “Up until the attack we were having a great time.”

  “I thought so, too,” Rider said. “As your friend, I did not think for a minute that you would not hold up your end of the fight. If y
ou want to stay friends, you have to know that I will always hold up my end.” Without another word, he left.

  I closed my eyes. Even with my mind less muddled, I wasn't sure who was right and who was wrong anymore. The door opened again and I sighed.

  “Miss Heidrich,” Doctor Yelton said. “You are not permitted to pull these tubes out again.”

  Vincent followed the doctor in, but said nothing.

  “Sorry, Doctor,” I said.

  “You're going to do yourself more harm than good.” He inspected the IV before pulling out a new one and inserting the needle. “This is not to be removed until I remove it.”

  I nodded.

  Soon the medicine did its job and the doctor left. The pain that had flared up died away and I started drifting off.

  “I can't fix my mistake if you get yourself killed,” Vincent said.

  I probably should have been pissed, but the medicine lured me into sleep.

  When I opened my eyes again, Gran was sitting next to my bed.

  “Mornin', Sugar,” Gran said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” I said. “I'm surprised actually.”

  “You have a few stitches in your back. Not as many as they first thought you'd need. Whatever got ya had poison in its claws, so I imagine it felt worse than it looked.”

  “It felt pretty bad.”

  “Well, they found somthin' to counteract the poison. It took a while, but seems to have done the trick. Your back is lookin’ better already.”

  “So, I'm already on the mend.”

  “Dr. Yelton is runnin' more tests, but he thinks you'll be out soon.”

  “Have you heard anything about Rider?”

  “That young man is somthin' else. He's fine, but gettin' more tests run to make sure. Looks like he should be out tomorrow.”

  “That's great to hear,” I said.

  “You've had a string of co-workers come through here. I kept track of all their names for you.” She read, from the back of a deposit slip, the names of everyone that stopped by, including Barry, Kyrian, and Hank, along with other field teams.

  When the doctor came by, he checked some vitals and took away the pain meds. My mind started feeling less fuzzy, which was a nice change.

  “Where's Logan?” I asked Gran after the doctor left.

  “He’s at home. He's been tryin’ to convince his kids to move out here to the Farm for a while,” Gran said sadly. “Jonathan flat out refuses. Susan and Gerald aren't keen on the idea either.”

  “Has anything happened to them?” I asked.

  “No, they're all fine. Logan just worries. We talked about it this mornin'. With what's been going on, he doesn't want his family targeted. I tried to reassure him, but it wasn't any use.”

  “Have you picked anything up?” I asked.

  “I can't see anything from here. This place is somethin' awful. I can't see in and can't see out.” Gran wasn't talking about seeing in the normal sense. It must be uncomfortable for her here at the Farm, not being able to see into the future. It was as much a part of her day as waking up in the morning.

  “It's probably the portals. Or maybe because there are so many Lost here.” It's hard to believe that, once upon a time, Logan came to our world through a portal. Then he went back and brought his children to this side. “The portals in the basement use a lot of energy. That's probably what keeps you blocked.”

  “Maybe,” Gran said.

  I dozed half the day. Sometime after Logan returned, I was able to convince Gran to return home.

  Staring into nothingness, I thought about the case. The murders and apparent kidnapping attempts swam through my brain. The strange creature attacking me didn’t seem to connect with the rest of the picture. When the doctor returned, he agreed to let me put on the clothes Gran brought me, and he detached me from the IV completely.

  As the medicine wore off and my mind cleared, I itched to get downstairs. What was happening while I sat in bed? Where the beast that attacked me fit into the picture didn’t become any clearer. I needed to do some research. After some time spent fidgeting, I got up and poked my head out of the room. It wasn’t long before I spotted Dr. Yelton and waved him down.

  He wanted me to stay in bed, but after he examined me further, he didn't put up much of a fight when I told him I wanted to go downstairs.

  Rider's room was next to mine. I looked in to check on him, but he wasn't there. My back ached, but it wasn't too bad. I could feel the stitches stretching my skin closed, but I didn't dwell on it. The idea that threads were sewn into my flesh, and that's what was holding it together, freaked me out, so I put it out of my head.

  When I entered the control room, Vincent was the first to spot me.

  Chapter 14

  Vincent stalked over as I settled into an empty desk near the door and booted up the computer.

  “Did you pull off your IV again?” Vincent accused.

  “Hello to you, too,” I snapped. “The doctor disconnected them earlier today. He said I could be here.” Not quite the truth, but close enough. It seemed to mollify Vincent at any rate.

  “You should at least have taken a day off,” he mumbled.

  “Bring me up to speed,” I said, ignoring the remark.

  Vincent stared hard at me, apparently undecided. Then he grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up across the desk from me.

  “Two more Lost have gone missing. A minotaur and a pixie,” Vincent said.

  “A minotaur? But they're huge!”

  “Yes, this was a farmer in Northern Missouri.”

  “Is a farmer,” I corrected. “Or have we found evidence that the Lost are being killed?”

  “All the killings appear to be accidents,” Vincent said.

  “No wonder Logan is worried about his family. If a minotaur has gone missing, none of the Lost are safe.” Vincent held up his hand, and then motioned toward Barry and Kyrian. I hadn't noticed the whispered argument going on nearby.

  “—didn't authorize the removal of the agent overseeing the Sanctuary,” Barry said. He sounded pretty upset but he managed to keep his voice low.

  “We needed the agent in the field, not on guard duty,” Kyrian responded, keeping her voice level.

  “We're working on getting more agents, but you've overstepped your bounds. It's not your decision to make.”

  “I did what was necessary. The other issue is Hank,” Kyrian said, guiding the conversation away from her mistake. “He's been spending time after work digging into records from the past few months.”

  “What type of old records?” Barry asked.

  “Satellite imagery, electromagnetic readings, portal activity.”

  “Sounds sensible,” Barry said, “I'll talk to him about his findings. Make sure you keep me updated on all activity.” Barry started to walk away.

  “There was one last thing, sir,” Kyrian dropped her voice significantly. Barry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to talk. She hesitated for a moment. “I heard a rumor about Special Director Hadley. He might be retiring at the end of the year.”

  Barry burst out laughing. He didn't bother to whisper. “That rumor floats around every three or four years. I think he floats the rumor himself to see what he can stir up. Take your mind off his job. At least for a few more years.”

  Barry walked away. Kyrian looked furious for a moment, but then put on her business face and nodded at Logan as he entered.

  “Did you see anything?” Vincent asked, tapping his forehead. It seemed strange to see him referring to my gifts the same way as Logan.

  “I didn't try,” I admitted. Shifting around on my chair, I clicked the mouse a few times to make sure the computer was waking up. “There's too much electricity and vibration here. Reading the Path here is difficult to begin with. I’m not even going to try.”

  Glancing up, I saw Logan in conversation with Kyrian.

  Vincent frowned. “We really need to work faster fixing what I've done.”

  “I wasn
't aware we had started working on the issue.” I didn't look at Vincent.

  “I've been quietly reaching out to other people. No one has ever heard of putting a soul back into someone once they've started to remove it. I've started checking old records as well. It’s been an all or nothing thing in the past.”

  “And it usually kills the person?” I asked.

  Vincent flinched at the accusation. “It kills the person. Sometimes not immediately, but it doesn't take long.”

  “Maybe if I understood things better, about what you do, I mean.” There was some small comfort knowing that Vincent was working on putting me right again. I couldn't live this way forever.

  He looked unsettled. “The agency collects information on all the Lost and all the gifts they discover. Walkers don’t make it a habit of adding to the agencies collection of knowledge.”

  I blinked at this information. “Do we really keep that much information on people?”

  “As much as they can dig up.”

  “I've never really looked anyone up. Not even information on Readers. I'm sure there are others.” I had Gran to talk to about my gifts, but what would it be like to talk to other others who share the same aptitude? “Why do you work for AIR if you don't want information to get out?”

  Vincent shrugged. “Others that work here are the same way. Our talents are put to good use, but it's an agency that compiles information. The more we share, the more control the agency can exert. Logan is the same way.”

  Realization struck me. Logan was cagey when I brought up something he did. Even though we were close, I was an AIR agent first, his friend second. He must have been afraid that I would give the information up.

  There was a catch as I let out a deep breath. “I never really thought about it that way,” I said. “I've never monitored or censored anything I've said around here.” Damn, was I naive? Or were they overly paranoid? I decided it wouldn't hurt to be cautious from here on out.

  “You already know enough about what I do. Every soul I take is from dangerous things that shouldn't be here. But they are things that others can't easily get rid of.”