Black-Eyed Kids: The Complete Series

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Black-Eyed Kids: The Complete Series Page 4

by Miranda Hardy


  Great. She’s talking with Dad. Well, at least she’s not yelling. The two were hardly civil when they were married, and they sure didn’t get along any better after the divorce.

  “Fine. I will. I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”

  The phone thumps against its receiver and she sighs. Or maybe that’s a yawn. All of this can’t be easy on her either.

  “Maverick?” Mom walks down the hall as I shut the window.

  “Yeah?”

  She stops in my doorway and stares at me. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Still achy? Do you need another pain pill?” she asks.

  “No, that will just knock me out, and I’d rather not spend the rest of the day sleeping.”

  “Okay. Do you want something to eat? Probably soup is best.”

  “Sure.”

  I plop back down on my bed and the ceiling popcorn looks like tiny mountains. I begin to count the crevices under the white paint. She lingers at the edge of my room for a few awkward moments. Mom wants to check my arms for cuts, I’m sure of it, but she turns away before heading back towards the kitchen. I know my depression has been tough on her, and now she’s probably terrified that I’m cutting again or maybe worse…that I’ll do something more permanent.

  My phone vibrates again. Is there a limit to the amount of messages one phone can hold before it won’t allow any more? Probably not, and I’ll be reading texts for the next week. At least the phone calls have stopped.

  My eyes start to feel heavy and sleep threatens to take me, so I walk to the kitchen and sit at the table while Mom stirs the soup.

  “Want some crackers?” she asks, and places them right in front of me.

  The crackers taste like heaven compared to the hospital breakfast from this morning. Someone put in great effort to make the eggs taste like rubber. The grits were worse. That crap could spackle the little cracks in my ceiling. I’m sure I’ve lost a pound or two just in the last day, between the horrible hospital food and a lack of appetite.

  “There’s a detective coming over soon to talk with us,” Mom says with her back toward me as she pours the soup into a bowl.

  She scoops out the chicken pieces. To me, that is not real chicken. The can says it’s chicken, but we all know what type of meat that really is…ground up junk that no one else wants to eat. Probably chicken parts like bones, eyeballs, and brains.

  “I know.” The dry cracker courses down my throat. “I heard you talking to Dad.”

  “Oh.” She places the soup in front of me and goes to the freezer. She plops the ice cube into the bowl.

  “I’m not a little kid, Mom. I can cool down my own soup.”

  “Sorry.”

  The doorbell chimes through the house, and I’m so startled, I drop my spoon into the bowl. Mom rushes to the living room to answer it, and I restrain myself from telling her not to open the door.

  “He’s early,” Mom says, as I see her looking out of the peephole. Our open floor plan doesn’t leave room to hide anywhere.

  Part of me thinks it’s ridiculous to be afraid of doorbells and door knocks, but I can’t help but remember the black-eyed boy stepping into Tarick’s house. The way he looked at baby Cally, as if she was a meal to devour, and what he did to Tarick. The grotesque memory crashes back, and I feel nauseous.

  “Hello,” Mom says as she opens the door.

  “Mrs. Ashe?” a deep, male voice asks.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Detective Drake Jennings. I spoke with you on the phone.” He flashes his badge. “I hope this is a good time.”

  “Yes, please come in.”

  I get up from my chair and leave my soup. The detective seems closer to my mom’s age. His dark skin glistens from the humid air making him sweat. I can tell that this guy’s smart, and that he’s all business. Reminds me of a drill sergeant, but in a suit.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ashe. Again, I apologize for my colleague’s brash behavior in the hospital. He stepped out of bounds with trying to question your son there.”

  Mom motions for him to sit on the loveseat. He places folders on the coffee table and repositions his badge on his belt before sitting down. His holstered pistol peeks through his jacket.

  “It’s not your place to apologize for someone else’s behavior, Detective.” Mom sits down across from him and doesn’t offer him anything to drink.

  She also didn’t shake his hand when he introduced himself. My mother is definitely not acting like herself.

  I feel weird being the only one standing, so I plop down next to Mom.

  Jennings says, “Well, I’m just sorry you had to deal with that while your son was trying to get well.”

  She nods, but I know she’s not buying it.

  He lifts the folder and opens it. “Is Maverick doing okay now?” He looks up from the papers.

  Why don’t adults just talk to me directly? It’s annoying. “I’m doing fine.”

  He doesn’t look at all caught off-guard, but he studies my face for too long. “That’s great. Glad to hear you are doing better.” He shuffles through more of his papers and slides the pen from one of his folders. “Well, it sounds like quite an ordeal you went through the other night.”

  Mom remains silent and watches him with suspicious eyes.

  “I’m Detective Jennings, Maverick. It’s nice to meet you.” He extends his hand and I shake it. “I’ve been assigned to the case, and I want to do everything I can to find Tarick. We’re searching for him everywhere at this very moment. Tracking dogs, volunteers, police officers—every resource available to us. But I need more information about last night. Hopefully, you’ll be able to give us more clues.”

  “Detective Jennings, if you want to help us, then why aren’t you out looking for Tarick?” I ask, a bit peeved at his attempt at pleasantries. “I’ve told my story several times to your officers and they didn’t take anything I said seriously.”

  “I know you did. I also noted the consistency of your accounts. You mentioned some kids that showed up at the Lester residence, and they abducted you.”

  His obvious attempt to get me to tell him a different account of the same story irritates me. Valedictorian may not be in my future, but I’m not that stupid.

  “There was no they, Detective. One black-eyed boy knocked on Tarick’s door. Just one. I blacked out and ended up in the barn, where the other black-eyed girl was. She let me go. I tripped over Tarick’s body, and then he was gone when the cops brought me back. That’s it. That’s all I have to say.”

  “Black-eyed kids?”

  “Yes! They had solid black eyes. Can’t be too hard to find them. You’d notice these two in a second. There was no white at all in their eyes. Just black.” The acid bubbling up my throat threatens to bring up what little soup went down.

  “Are you sure about this?” Jennings was impossible to read. His lean face looked like stone.

  “Yes.”

  “And you were at Tarick’s house just babysitting his little sister, Cally, right? The two of you were only playing video games. And that’s all. Is it possible that maybe you and Mr. Lester were doing something that you shouldn’t have been doing and imagined these black-eyed kids?”

  “Detective Jennings, are you suggesting that they were on drugs?” Mom asks. She looks like she’s ready to throw him out, but I know even she’s not bold enough to do that. “You think my son and Tarick were high?”

  “Mrs. Ashe, my job is to look at all the possibilities. Leave no stone left unturned.”

  I’ve had enough. “Not all teenagers are on drugs. I think I’ve told you all that I can, Detective.”

  Without another word, I get up from the couch and walk down the hall. I slam my door shut and lean the back of my head against it. The soreness from my bruises kicks in. Damnit!

  After a few minutes, I press my ear against the door.

  “I didn’t mean to upset him, but I have to ask these questions as a part of the inv
estigation.”

  “I know it’s your job, but I know for a fact that Tarick and Maverick aren’t on drugs. They tested my son at the hospital, and he’s clean. So I would appreciate it if you’d drop the whole drug-thing. If he says it was these black-eyed kids, then that’s exactly what it was. They were probably the ones on drugs. That would explain their dilated pupils.”

  The urge to stick my head out into the hallway and scream, “Damn straight!” nearly overwhelms me. Mom has my back, and that’s such a relief.

  “I assume Maverick has a doctor or therapist overseeing his taking of anti-depressants?” Jennings asks.

  Mom replies, “Yes, of course.”

  “I highly recommend you make an appointment, Mrs. Ashe. This is a very difficult time for him, and he’ll need professional help to get through it.”

  “Detective, do you think all of this might be connected to that strange cult that was reported to have set up camp on the outskirts of town? I read they recruit teenagers.”

  The local news had been reporting about strange activity happening around town, including freaky spray painted symbols on abandoned buildings and mutilated small animals being left in front of several churches. I never considered the cult could be responsible for killing Tarick, but it made sense.

  “Like I said, I try to look at all the possibilities,” Jennings says. “Has Maverick been socializing with new friends, kids you don’t know?”

  “No,” Mom answers with tension in her voice. “I know all of Maverick’s friends.”

  “Great. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Ashe. I’ll be in touch.”

  She escorts the detective to the front door and sighs after she shuts it. Something tells me that I haven’t seen the last of Detective Jennings.

  THE AFTERNOON FADES and Mom finally gives up on trying to get me to eat a full dinner. The television from her room blares loud enough to seep through the walls. She won’t emerge until the morning, but I’d give anything for some quiet time. Maybe my head will clear of all the nonsense going through it with some sleep.

  I lay in bed, and I just can’t quiet my mind. The pills the doctor prescribed for me sit on the nightstand and look more appealing by the minute. It’ll help with the dull ache plaguing me and knock me out so dreams can replace the living nightmare scenes that play over and over in my head.

  It takes so much effort just to swing my legs off the bed, get up, and go to my bathroom. I grab a glass, fill it with water. The round pill goes down easily with my first big gulp. I’m tempted to take my other pill, but I decide not to.

  My phone buzzes again. I go to the nightstand to see who it is. Several new messages flicker on the screen. The power button is probably the best invention ever made, and it takes a few seconds to shut off. Maybe someday, I’ll come up with the right words to say to Cadence, Tarick’s parents, and my friends, but that day is not today.

  I’m about to shove my phone in the drawer when faint taps on the window make me jump. A pair of black eyes stare back at me from outside, and the phone hits the floor right before I do.

  6

  ASTID

  THE RAIN SLOWS to a soft drizzle, yet the humans still search. Four of them tramp through the foliage. Two dogs lead the way, going in the opposite direction from where Kren had gone. Part of me feels sorry for the people. Their search dogs will not help them.

  I should leave the scene and head deeper into the woods, but I’m captivated by my surroundings. The wild animals in the area are aware of my presence and keep a safe distance from me. My movements may scatter them from their hiding places, so I have to be careful.

  After several hours, panic seizes me. Kren will be furious to learn of my absence. Fi and Arion will, no doubt, try to convince him to leave me behind, but Kren will try to find me. He’s determined to make me turn back to my old ways.

  I vow to be in control of my own destiny.

  In another hour, Kren will be too late, though. He and the others will have to return home without me. They would never wait for anyone. That’s what they tell each and every one of us when we venture out. Despite Kren’s devotion to me, I know that even he will not risk being captured while looking for me. At least that’s my hope.

  The woods are so lush with life, but the wildlife lurking in the dark are simpler than humans. People are so fraught with emotions. The human mind fascinates me, yet it seems so alien. My mind craves knowledge, more than what observation can offer.

  It had been forbidden for so long to desire such things. I’ve always known that if I continue to give in to my curiosity about humans, that I would eventually cross that line. Each step I take and thought in my mind reeks of betrayal.

  Kren would never understand my choices. To him, my decisions are unnatural. He, along with the others, relish taking the humans’ lives. He will never stop trying to force me to be like him. That’s why he brought Maverick to me.

  I can still imagine the lost look of innocence being ripped from Maverick that night. I couldn’t bear to feel his terror any longer. So much sorrow. After Maverick’s escape, I decided not to face Kren’s fury once more. Fear mainly drove my decision, but I left mostly because I knew that I had betrayed everything we had been taught.

  My mind reaches out, touching the searchers, and then recoils and withdraws. Some of them think Maverick is to blame for the other boy’s death. Stepping out from the shadows and trying to explain things to these humans isn’t an option. So I remain hidden, unsure of what to do next.

  “The dogs picked up nothing,” one of them says to another.

  The other man with dark skin, who’s not in uniform, puts his hands on his hips and frowns. There is no need for me to reach out to his mind to know what he’s feeling.

  The man says, “Maverick Ashe doesn’t fit the profile. I’ve met a lot of screwed up teenagers, and I know in my bones that Ashe is no killer. But I’d feel better if we found something, anything at all to corroborate his story.”

  “Sorry, Jennings,” the uniformed man says. “Wish I could be more help. My dogs are tired, and they’re not picking up Tarick Lester’s scent.”

  “Alright, thanks for your help.”

  They shake hands and the officers leave.

  I decide to reach out to the one named Jennings with my mind. He gets in his car, so I decide to follow him. Keeping up with his vehicle isn’t difficult on the dirt and grass roads, but when he hits the black road, he speeds away.

  My legs push forward toward the direction he’s headed, and Jennings’ mind reaches beyond my range for a moment. My soaked feet squish deep into the damp earth and make it more difficult to catch up.

  A large settlement of homes comes into view and Jennings’ mind appears again. His confused and indecisive thoughts about Maverick jumble together. His conflict is so profound.

  His vehicle comes into view, and I bend over and heave when he stops. My chest feels as if it’s on fire and I’m dizzy. My breath starts to slow once again. I enter into the woods behind the homes and watch Jennings step out of his vehicle and walk up to a house.

  Maverick’s house.

  Jennings enters through the open door, and just before I can retrieve more from his mind, he steps beyond my range again.

  The insects remain silent, and the only sound is the distant vehicles driving by. It’s unwise to move closer, and my indecision isn’t helping. I need to help Maverick. Jennings doesn’t believe he’s a killer, but the other men do.

  My first thought is to somehow try to communicate with Maverick, but explaining everything to him might make matters worse. He is afraid of me, and I don’t blame him. Maybe if he understood the situation, however, I could help him be less afraid. I spend the next several moments trying to figure out what to do.

  At the height of my uncertainty, Jennings leaves Maverick’s house. Confusion and frustration still floods Jennings’ mind. He believes Maverick to be both innocent and guilty, and he’s sure his superiors will blame Maverick for the other boy’s death. J
ennings drives away, and I grasp my new found resolve.

  Once darkness prevails, I know it will be time to step out of the shadows. It’s time to make things right.

  7

  MAVERICK

  MY HEART POUNDS, and it feels as if it will break free from my chest when I see two faces peer through my window. I nearly fall over my nightstand and bolt out of my room when I realize I recognize the two girls staring at me.

  “Cadence?” I whisper as I near the open window. Lisa stands next to her. “What are you doing?”

  “Why haven’t you answered my texts or calls?” Cadence sounds angry, but she looks like she’s ready to cry.

  My tired limbs ache as I jump out onto the still wet grass. “You guys shouldn’t be here. I could get in big trouble. What are you doing here?”

  Cadence looks like she’s about to hit me. “What do you think? My boyfriend is missing and his best friend is ignoring me. People are saying all kinds of crap, and I just need to get the truth straight from you.”

  I shush her and close my window. It’s pretty dark outside now, and the streetlights have turned on. I’m thankful that my bedroom window faces the big back yard, and I’m sure none of the neighbors can see us.

  “Oh my God! What happened to you?” Lisa puts her hands up to my face.

  The lotion, or maybe it’s perfume, on her wrists smells like roses.

  I pretend to pull away, but I let her move in closer to examine me. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” Her soft voice soothes me. “You look like you’ve been to Hell and back. What happened?”

  Lisa catches me staring at her face, but Cadence steps in and gives my shoulder a little shove. I want to tell them everything, but it’s just going to make things worse. They’ll think I’ve completely lost my mind.

  “I need answers here,” Cadence demands. “Where’s Tarick?”

  Lisa looks as if she’s going to defend me, but she sides with Cadence. The two of them stand silently and wait for my reply.

 

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