“He’s been in the control room since the conference. I don’t mean to keep track of him, but I’m just anxious to know what’s going on with him.”
“You accused him of cheating, and you guys aren’t even a thing.”
“Back off, I’m pregnant and hormonal and hungry.”
“Hangry.” Hyka took another bite and continued to talk. “August would eat the raw heart of a cow for you. He’s loyal. The Jacqui issue is not what you think. You should ask him what they talked about.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.” Valerie shook her head. “But he lied!”
“No, you asked him why he had a phone, and he told you. He didn’t tell you Jacqui calls him, too. You’re the one jumping to conclusions.”
Footsteps came from the west stairwell from the train platform. Butterflies released in Valerie’s chest, and a knot developed in her throat. She fought her impulse to go to August as his energy drew closer, and the other impulse to run to the bathroom. He stepped fast from the west stairwell to the east elevator, jaw clenched and hands formed into fists. Stonewalling. Without even a glance in her direction, August strode straight past her.
When the door slid shut, Valerie cursed him and her hormones. If anyone could upset her without so much as raising a finger, it was August. She deserved his cold neglect after the daggers she’d flung at him.
“Well, that was tense. You okay?” Hyka asked.
“Yeah.” Valerie wiped a tear with the back of her hand. “I suppose I had that coming. Shall we, then?”
The two walked together to the elevators opposite the ones August took to his place. They rode in silence. Hyka was never one for small talk, which let Valerie internalize August’s blatant disregard. The damage she caused radiated from him like a heated breeze as he passed. She had never experienced him so furious. The thought unnerved her, reminded her of Jarrett’s abuse.
Hyka stepped off the elevator on the ninth floor where her suite was. Valerie smiled and waved goodbye to her friend. Four more floors to her own. The elevator opened to the two-bedroom suite. Before the Awakening, traveling celebrities, politicians, or wealthy newlyweds stayed in the room. Over the months, Valerie painted, and placed personal niceties in the space, making it more like home for her and Caleb. Jack sat at the high-top kitchen bar counter, eating popcorn.
“I realize you didn’t sign up to be a baby sitter,” Valerie said to him, “but thank you.”
“You know, I never got to be a grandpa. I’m a decent substitute until your old man and brother get back from their mission in the city. You’re due for an update. I can head out tomorrow and touch base with them,” he suggested, chomping on a fresh kernel.
Jack was handsome and blond with blue eyes. She had only known him in his younger state, and his reference to being a grandparent set her aback. Valerie could imagine no one at their actual age, except Hyka, who didn’t appear far off from when they first met. August was old enough to be her father, but with his age regression, he appeared as the striking younger version of himself.
“Dad and Kevin finished the city clean-up weeks ago. They haven’t come back because they choose not to.”
“All I’m saying is you and Mike need to smooth matters over. He’s done everything you’ve demanded of him.”
“What do you figure would’ve happened if my mom were still alive? Do you think he’d have offered her up to that disgusting tyrant? The answer is no, he wouldn’t. He would’ve fought with his life and died before he let that man touch my mother. But me? Oh, I end up on a silver platter with my husband murdered and my son as leverage. He did that.”
On schedule, Hyka let herself in. Valerie forgot their evening swim until she saw Hyka’s terry-cloth robe.
“Pool?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll be down in five minutes.”
She undressed in her bedroom in front of a full-length mirror. Skin stretched tight on her swollen stomach like she ate too much at supper. A nudge came from inside her belly. She frowned and put a hand over the spot where her daughter kicked, remembering the painful months prior. She constantly fought back notions of not wanting her. The disgust troubled her to her core, but she would never admit the demons she hid inside to anyone else. Birth meant a torrent of events she wanted nothing more than to run from. When the time arrived, and the Council advanced on their pledge of execution, she would kill again. They left her no alternative.
Hyka had started her laps when Valerie opened the door to the pool and set her robe next to Hyka’s. She slid into the water in the shallow end. The temperature was pleasant, like a heated blanket. Her muscles loosened, and she stopped to tread water as best as her lean frame would tolerate.
“You’d think pregnancy made you more buoyant. It doesn’t,” Valerie joked. She set a hand over her small mound of baby. “Are you superstitious at all?”
Hyka stopped and stared at her. Her eyes narrowed like she was working on reading Valerie’s intent. “My mother was full-blooded Cherokee. My grandmother was a chieftess and raised me while my dad deployed. She had strong beliefs of the spiritual realm. So, yes, you could say I’m a little superstitious.”
“Well, what’s the Cherokee’s take on ghosts and such? I’ve never given it much thought. Sometimes, I’d get the heebie-jeebies in the hospital morgue but encountered nothing I can say was a spirit.”
“I’m not confident I should tell you,” Hyka answered and sank down until only her eyes were above water. She looked just as scary as when they first met.
“It’s not like I believe in ghosts; I’m just curious. With Caleb saying ‘happy birthday,’ there is no way he would have known otherwise. Admit it. Caleb coming out on his own and repeating those words was creepy.”
“Jack told him by accident. He sucks, I’m sorry.”
Valerie nodded, but there was still something unusual taking place. The presence she felt when the lights flickered was unmistakable, and Caleb would never make up the story about communicating with his dad.
“So, you believe in ghosts?”
“The proper treatment of the deceased, in Cherokee law, is key to making certain their souls are at rest. They believe if someone does not give a man a formal burial, their soul is restless and roams the earth for eternity. That’s why there are special laws in place for Native American remains found outside a burial ground. They must be returned to their native tribe for a proper ceremony so their spirit can rest.”
Valerie’s chin quivered as she raised her hand to her mouth. Storm sirens had cut Scott's funeral short. Jarrett killed him and denied him a formal burial. She left his body on a plank, covered with a sheet next to the grave, not in it.
“Do you think Scott…?” Valerie did not finish the question.
Hyka swam to where Valerie sat on the pool step. Though she had limited outward emotions, the tough woman leaned down and wrapped her arms around Valerie.
“We finished what we could with what we had. Dad completed the funeral after we took off. Scott had a proper burial. Those are just superstitions, Val. You want to know the folklore about Conductors? Well, on the rez, they call DiaZem ‘Thunderers.’ Though skewed from the facts, they’ve passed down the tales for generations. But they also have stories of a tribe defeating a giant inchworm, so you can take all this with a grain of salt. Most are just legends and customs preserved out of reverence for our ancestors than actual belief in the rituals.”
“There must be truth rooted there. What if Scott has unfinished business? His soul could be restless because of the baby. Or maybe Caleb and I are still in danger?”
“Worrying about something you can’t prove or control isn’t good for you. There are a great number of facts we don’t understand even still. Spooks and boogiemen seem like the least of our troubles. Gathering more DiaZem and building up the Rebellion is something tangible. An issue you can figure out.”
“But what do I do about Caleb?”
“Let him cope in his own way. He’s a tough kid. He�
��ll figure it out one day, but there’s no need to upset him now.”
Hyka was good for a neutral point of view. Valerie's emotions got the better of her when she became overwhelmed. Hyka always broke things down into more manageable doses. She kept Valerie grounded. Realistic.
Valerie allowed her body to glide through the water. Hand over head in a recurrent motion, her mind steadied on the rhythm of her breathing to keep the armies of grief at bay if only for a moment longer. Her legs grew heavy, and her lungs burned after an hour of laps. Exercise was not unfamiliar to her, but the strain was. Water rushed off her as she pulled herself up the pool’s side ladder. The full weight of her body was almost more than the strength she had to get out. She stretched poolside, and her body ached in a fashion she had not experienced in months. The soreness was tolerable, but it caught her off-guard. Valerie was no stranger to the angry-bodied third trimester wielding its ugly face, but at just four months, she should still be in the comfortable second trimester.
Walking to her suite offered no relief. No amount of stretching her cramped muscles encouraged them to loosen. She rinsed off in her shower and dried. Forgoing clothes, Valerie positioned pillows into a nest on the white king-sized bed. The arrangement looked sort of ritualistic, and she laid her head down, reviewing the superstitions Hyka had talked about.
Valerie drifted into a familiar dream to a time she wished lasted forever. At the last moment she gave a genuine smile and thought she would explode with joy. The memory, like a drug, delivered her to a place where everything was right. In her vision, she awoke on the couch in her home to a voice she recognized so well. Scott’s voice came from the front foyer. She ran, closing the distance between them. She rushed hard, throwing herself full-bodied into him and swung her arms around his neck.
This was where she loved to pause the image when she was able. Breathing in deep, she didn’t mind that his stubble scratched her cheek. She would try her hardest to stop in his embrace as long as she kept control, memorizing his smell, his touch, his breath.
Scott traced his fingers down her arms until they met her wrists. His grip was hard and continued to tighten. The pain was palpable, yet she could not wake from the dream. She surveyed his face for an explanation for the deviation from her memory. Scott's eyes narrowed at her, and his lips pressed closed in a line. Hate. He shoved her to the ground despite her carrying his baby, pinned her arms, and rested his body on top of her legs. His face twisted in madness before a smooth, curled smirk spread, transforming his features. Scott was not her attacker. It was Lucas Jarrett. She fought against his power to no avail.
“She will be mine. You can’t protect her from me. There’s no hiding.”
His breath blew the hair near her ear with his whisper. The chill shot down her neck and then his weight lifted off her. She sat up in bed, panting and covered in sweat. The lamp on the nightstand flickered, and she still felt the broken energy in the room, watching her. Her belly tightened over the baby, then released. Early morning sunlight streaked the walls with golden orange and pink. Day was breaking, though it was still early. The traumatic dream was anything but refreshing, leaving her body feeling like an over-worked washrag used to scrub concrete, emptied of all usefulness.
She hauled herself out of bed, dressed, and moved throughout the apartment, cleaning to keep her mind busy and make sense of her dream. Jack’s popcorn bowl rested in the sink from the night before. Valerie reached for the faucet and, at an initial glance, thought she saw dirt on her arms. Upon closer inspection, her wrists wore brown and yellow bruises like shackles on her thin joints. Something had held her down with enough force to injure her and delay the normal immediate healing process. Hormones would cause her lucid dreams, but her imagination did not account for the bruises. Did August have it in him to harm her after all? Maybe her allegations were correct, and he was conspiring with Jacqui, the female DiaZem in San Francisco. Perhaps he would torment her dreams until she went delirious and put herself out of her suffering.
A gentle stretching whine broke her from the anxious stream of theories. A messy-haired boy appeared from his room.
“Good morning,” he said, rubbing his sleepy eyes. His door slammed just as he passed the threshold. The boy let out a scream and ran to his mother.
She knelt down to hold him when books started to fall off the shelves. Kitchen cabinets swung open and glasses were hurled by an invisible force across the room, shattering against the wall. Papers whirled around the two like a tornado in the small suite.
Valerie picked Caleb up. Her anger conquered any fear. “LEAVE US ALONE!”
A powerful tremor shook the room. Any remaining items on the walls crashed to the ground, and the episode was over.
Forgoing the elevator, Valerie carried Caleb down the stairs. She circled each landing, sensing an energy doing the same. She reached the first floor, and the door to the lobby fell open. August was out of breath, fear apparent on his face.
“Stay away from me!” Valerie bit at him.
“Hold up!” Hyka yelled down from two flights above them.
Valerie continued down to the train platform, knowing Hyka would catch up to her. The control room was abuzz by the time she walked in.
“Someone had better have some damn answers and fast.” She tried to set Caleb on a chair, but he only squeezed her neck harder.
“Madam DiaZem, it was. . . uh. . . umm. . . power surge.”
“No. No, it was not a damn power surge. I was attacked, and there is only one other person in this Facility who has the ability to do so.”
“Here is the surveillance of Dr. Wilkes, ma’am,” another technician spoke up. “He was in the gym as per his usual routine.”
“You don’t think he’s capable of attacking me while working out?” She demanded while watching him move between sets of exercises, pick his teeth or wipe sweat away. No hints of aggression on his face.
“Why would I do anything to hurt you, Val?”
How long had he been there? Hyka stood behind him.
“Then you tell me what’s going on here.”
“Well, it looks like some sort of energy is manifesting in various ways.”
“You mean ghosts,” she whispered, covering Caleb’s ears.
“I’m a doctor, Valerie. I don’t believe in ghosts,” he whispered back.
“Well, can someone figure this out? Or else I’m taking my son, and we are leaving.”
August nodded, but his eyes wandered off like he was mulling over the words Valerie just spoke.
“Please send someone to my room to clean things up,” Valerie instructed Hyka, who followed her out of the room.
Valerie craved pancakes, peanut butter, and pickles.
“Please don’t judge me,” she pleaded with the woman on the phone who was taking her request in the kitchen. She and Caleb waited in Hyka’s room while her suite was being put back together.
“Ma’am, I have five kids. There’s no judgment here. It should be up in about thirty minutes. Enjoy your meal.”
Valerie glanced at the TV monitor in the room, eyes glazed over with exhaustion at the sight of her schedule for the day. A block of time, midmorning, hooked her eye. In just a few hours, August would accompany her for their weekly stroll outside. Despite the chill of fall, Valerie liked to walk to the end of the tarmac where the Facility was no longer beneath her. She would remove her shoes and stand barefoot on the earth. The exercise grounded the stirring energy continually flowing through her, like a bath for her soul. August insisted he required this therapy as well and would support her balance through a couple yoga poses. This was a good day to walk outside, release the anxiety of the night before, and recharge with August’s energy. She would also have the courage to confront him about her dream, which paled in comparison to the flying dishes.
But he was not in the lobby when the time came. Instead, Duke whistled to himself, ignoring her in his cheerful mood.
“Another all-nighter?” Valerie could spit.
Seeing Duke’s face first thing in the morning put her in a nasty mood. Deprived of sleep and still aching from her swim, she wanted to rip his head off.
“No. I slept well. Thank you.”
“Make certain he’s here at ten.”
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I can’t because he’s not here. He left after your tantrum this morning.”
“What do you mean he left? Like he went downtown?” She wanted to hit Duke with a bat. Tantrum? She would show him a tantrum.
“He took a plane to Chicago to see his son. That’s all I know.”
Valerie’s forehead immediately felt hot as the words settled in. Fear, resentment, panic. She touched her wrists where the bruises still discolored her fair skin. Breath caught in her dry throat, she choked and struggled to inhale. Any moment, the female electrical charges within her would repel against each other. Without August’s negative charge, her body would reject her unborn daughter.
She might have expected August to punish her in retaliation, but causing her to miscarry without his energy to stabilize her was the vilest thing he could do. At twenty-two weeks, her daughter had little chance of surviving being born. Within seconds, Valerie took an inventory of all the electricity in the Facility. Her heart thumped out of her rib cage when she found Duke was telling the truth. August was gone, and at any moment, she would go into premature labor.
Valerie waited by the elevator, conscious to hurry the compartment along but not so fast to threaten the car’s occupants. Once the stainless steel doors slid open, she hauled Hyka by the arm to the subterranean elevators.
“We need to get to the infirmary now. Please call down and let them know I’m coming. Jack, pancakes are on their way up for Caleb.”
“What’s going on? Are you all right?” Hyka's inflection betrayed her, and Valerie fed into her friend's show of concern.
“He’s gone. He left me. He got mad and left me here. He knew what could happen. And Duke just let him go. Didn’t bother telling me. And I’m having pains.” Valerie was being a bit dramatic. Her muscle soreness was not substantial pain, but the fear of it was enough.
Shifting Power Page 3