[Anthology] The Paranormal 13- now With a Bonus 14th Novel!

by Dima Zales

  The ensuing silence was profound.

  Finally Kara said, skeptically, “He pays us more?”

  “He pays you more if you ask, dumbass. You should be making four times what I make — you’re at least that much stronger. Instead, you’re probably making what Grant makes.”

  The genius of Cordus’s system started to become clear to me.

  “So,” I said, “to get the extra pay, you have to ask to be treated better than the others. That means you’re the one who has to go to him and claim they’re not your equals.”

  “Got it in one. Bonus for the new girl.”

  “But why?” Kara said, sounding choked up. “Why would you do that? We’re not better than them. I’m not better than you. Beth’s not better than me.”

  “Seriously. That part of the system would fall apart if no one asked him for the raise,” I said.

  “Who should I answer first,” Zion said angrily. “The woman who drives a twenty-year-old Pontiac, or the one who can’t afford a car at all?”

  “Zion, that is so fucked up. I don’t even know you. Jesus Fucking Christ.”

  Kara slumped back in her seat.

  I was still thinking through Cordus’s system.

  “He gives the strongest people the most perks. That makes them feel more invested in the status quo. That makes sense, since they’d be the most dangerous to him if they rebelled.”

  “‘Rebelled’? We can’t rebel — don’t even think about it,” Zion said. “He would crush us all without lifting a finger.”

  We stopped at a light, and she turned to give us both a hard stare.

  “You two need to get it through your heads that there’s nothing we can do about our situation. Lord Cordus can do whatever he wants with us. At least the weak ones live to be old. The three of us are going to live short lives, and we’re going to die hard. We’ll be lucky to make it out of our twenties. All we can do is try to enjoy what we can, while we can. There’s nothing else.”

  Kara didn’t say anything. She’d crossed her arms and drawn her knees up to her chest, physically withdrawing from the conversation.

  I thought about Williams. I wondered if he was resisting the system by not wearing white. Maybe he was a little smarter than he looked. Or maybe he was just contrary.

  “It seems like Williams gets away with ducking the clothing thing,” I said. “He’s got to have enough strength to wear white, but he wasn’t tonight.”

  “Yeah, well, Williams is Williams,” Zion said. “I don’t know why Lord Cordus lets him get away with that shit. He sure wouldn’t stand for it from me. Wearing white isn’t a choice.”

  “Is his ability with barriers rare and useful, like Callie’s precognition?”

  Zion frowned. “I don’t think so. He’s great with barriers, and that’s definitely useful, but most of us can do at least a little barrier work, and there are some others with real strength in that area, like Andy. Callie’s literally one in a thousand. Williams isn’t.”

  She thought some more. “He does have a lot of raw strength. Second only to Callie, probably. Maybe that’s it.”

  Third is more like it, I thought, remembering how Graham had broken through Williams’s barrier to attack me.

  I sat back and let the Porsche’s muted rumble seep through me.

  I could understand Kara’s horrified reaction. What Cordus was doing was so wrong that it was hard to put into words.

  But I could also understand Zion’s position. I’d seen what had happened to Callie, and I’d noticed how scarred up Gwen and Williams were. And how young everyone seemed to be — Gwen was definitely the oldest person wearing white, and she looked to be in her late thirties. The lives of those who hunted Seconds were probably nasty, brutish, and short. Why not enjoy what small pleasures you could?

  It all hinged on whether Cordus really was as unbeatable as Zion said. If he was, then resistance would be nothing but a symbolic sacrifice, and no one was likely to do that. But if he wasn’t unbeatable, then colluding with him wasn’t nearly so forgivable.

  15

  The next morning, I received a letter from Cordus. I could tell from the initialing that it had been typed by a secretary for his signature. It informed me that I was to consider myself a member of his household until further notice. I was not allowed to leave the premises without permission. I was being given that day to wrap up my pre-existing affairs. My wages would be $32,000 per annum, from which my monthly room and board of $2,000 would be deducted. My household membership came with a credit card and a fancy cell phone, which were attached to the letter in a padded envelope. The card was for pre-approved work expenses only. A list of recommended clothing items was also attached — mostly things I’d put in the “business casual” category, though I noticed with a chill that black undergarments were included.

  Cordus had added a hand-written note at the bottom: he would be conducting my formal training, and it would begin the following morning. Gwen would be in touch with me about the specifics of my schedule.

  I put down the letter and its attachments and just sat there. I’d kept repeating to myself that I had to confront my new reality. But now that reality had been given paper form and slipped under my door, and it clearly had no room for any part of who I’d been — not my house, my job, my family, my friends, or even my existing wardrobe.

  I resented it profoundly.

  Also, it scared me.

  I sat there, expecting the thought of my future to trigger a panic attack, but it didn’t. It occurred to me that I hadn’t had one in a while. Maybe Graham had been right, and I didn’t have true panic disorder after all.

  That’s a pretty big silver lining. I might be losing a lot, but that’s a huge gain.

  It was hard to think positively, though. The losses were too big and too new.

  Sighing, I picked the letter back up, wondering how much I could get done in a day. I turned it over and jotted down a to-do list that started with “quit job” and ended with “black panties.”

  If I knocked enough things off the list this morning, maybe I could go shopping. The letter said a percentage of my salary could be advanced if I needed funds for clothes or other essentials. I thought of the $1,200 I’d been carrying around in my wallet for the last week. If I spent it carefully, hopefully it would be enough. I didn’t want to ask Cordus for an advance. He might decide to treat it as a request for a raise.

  Okay, top of the list. I sat there for a while thinking about various lies I could tell the people back in Dorf, especially Ben and Dr. Nielsen. It was hard to come up with something that sounded even vaguely reasonable. In the end, I decided to keep it as simple as possible — I was very upset about having been attacked in my own home and had decided to leave Dorf for a while until I got over the experience. I didn’t know where I was going to go, and I’d rather not have people contact me.

  Given my well known mental illness, an extreme reaction like that might seem plausible, at least to some people. I went over the story several times in my head, then decided to let it sit for a bit, while I did other things.

  Cordus’s letter had included a mailing address I could use — a post-office box. I used the cell phone to file a mail-forwarding order online. Then I stopped my home phone service and changed the mailing address for my gas-and-electric bill.

  I called the Ohio State Highway Patrol and reported my car stolen. I got a call back twenty minutes later: my car had already been found. Maybe Williams hadn’t bothered with a barrier. I thanked the trooper and told her I wouldn’t be reclaiming the car. She asked why I hadn’t reported the theft earlier. I could tell she thought something fishy was going on. I just played dumb. In the end she told me they’d keep the car for ninety days, then donate it to a program that provided job training for at-risk youth.

  So much for my mother’s last gift to me.

  I went back over my story. It still seemed like the best thing I could come up with, so I called Suzanne and tried it out on her. Not surp
risingly, she was brimming with questions, but I just kept repeating the party line — I’d be away for a while, I wasn’t sure where or for how long, I’d prefer not to be contacted unless it was an emergency. I gave her my cell number and asked her to turn my thermostat down and keep an eye on my house.

  Then I remembered the mouse. How could I have forgotten? Poor little guy. I thought quickly about just asking Suzanne to let him go in the backyard, but there were so many cats running loose in the neighborhood. Instead I asked her to hire a trustworthy kid to feed and water him and clean his cage. I told her I’d send her some money to cover it.

  After she agreed, we said our goodbyes, and I hung up. I took a deep breath. That had been relatively easy.

  Calling Dr. Nielsen was a lot harder. He was intensely worried about me and quite unwilling to let me “just disappear following a traumatic experience,” as he put it. I stuck to my guns but had the feeling he’d be calling the police when we hung up. Well, that would come to nothing — I was pretty sure the Dorf PD had written me off.

  The next call was Ben. That conversation was awful. He was worried about me, yes, but he was even more worried about his family. How could I just disappear, right when he and the girls needed me most? Sticking to the party line didn’t do any good. It just infuriated him. It was horrible. In the end, he hung up on me in disgust.

  After about fifteen minutes, the cell phone rang. The caller ID showed Ben’s number, but when I answered, it was my eldest niece, Tiffany. Jesus, it was really my day for punishment.

  “Aunt Beth?”

  She spoke in a low, muffled voice, as though she was crouching in a corner and whispering into the phone.

  “Hi, sweetie. How’re you doing?”

  She ignored my question. “Ghosteater said you could find Mom. Did you?”

  You’d think, after the last two weeks, I’d have stopped getting caught by surprise. Unfortunately not. I sat there holding the phone, wondering what on earth to say. Just as I was about to answer, Graham’s and Kara’s warnings about the rules came back to me. I shut my mouth and thought some more.

  “Beth?” Tiffany whispered, sounding desperate.

  I decided I had to take a hard line. Tiff was twelve and had a good head. She could take it.

  “Who else is going to find out what I tell you, Tiff?”

  “I won’t tell anyone except Ghosteater.”

  “Not Madisyn?”

  Tiff paused. When she spoke, she sounded sad. “No. She’s not old enough to keep the secret. It’s started too young for her.”

  That’s a good thing, I thought to myself. If I understood what I’d been told, it meant she had very little strength. If Cordus got a hold of her, she’d get one of those low-paid but safe household positions.

  “Are Jazzy and Lia like you and Madisyn?”

  “Not yet. It only started for me last year, though.”

  She’d have been eleven. I wondered where that put her, strengthwise.

  “Tiff, do you know how serious the rule is about keeping the secret?”

  “Mom said I could never tell anyone about anything special I could do.”

  “Did she tell you that there are people who will come and kill you if you do tell anyone? Anyone at all, even your Dad?”

  From the silence on the other end, I guessed Justine hadn’t been that explicit. Maybe she didn’t know it herself. She seemed pretty out of it.

  “I understand,” Tiff finally said in a shaky voice.

  “Okay. The good news is that I did find your mother. She’s not hurt, and she’s staying someplace I think is safe for her. The bad news is that she’s not going to be able to come home right now, and there’s no way you can visit her or speak to her.”

  “Why?”

  “Honey, that’s in the can’t-talk-about-it category. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you with her?”

  “I’m staying at the same place she is. I’ll try to see her as often as I can.” I paused. “I’m sorry I can’t give you better news. You know, I didn’t find out about the special stuff until just the last couple weeks. It’s all new to me, and I don’t understand a lot of it. I don’t know what I can do for your Mom, but I’ll try my best to help her and keep her safe.”

  Tiffany took that in. Finally she said, “Okay,” in a small voice. She sniffled, then cleared her throat. “Can I call you?”

  “Absolutely. If I don’t answer when you call, leave a message telling me when I should call you back and at what number, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, sounding marginally better. “I love you, Aunt Beth. I want you to come home.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I love you too, so much. I hope I’ll be able to come home soon.”

  There was a big sniffle, then, “Bye.”

  I set down the phone.

  Damn.

  I took a long, hot shower, trying to rinse away the aftertaste of having lied to and disappointed everyone I cared about.

  When I was done, I put on the same clothes I’d been wearing when Williams, Kara, and Callie grabbed me at the mall, days back. The house staff had been laundering them each night, but I was getting pretty tired of them.

  I opened my phone’s address book. It was programmed with numbers for all the Nolanders I knew so far, and quite a few I hadn’t met yet. I called Gwen and told her I’d like to use the afternoon to find some of the clothes on my list. She said she’d check with Cordus, and that if it was all right with him, someone would take me shopping. Half an hour later, Kara and I were on our way in a generic black sedan.

  Not surprisingly, the area turned out to have a variety of shopping options. Despite Kara’s objections, I started at Kohl’s.

  “There’s no reason to pay a lot for bras and panties,” I said as we rooted through the lingerie section. “I don’t have that much to spend, and there’s a lot on this list.”

  “Yeah, but …” Kara paused awkwardly, a black bra in each hand.

  “What?”

  “The lingerie is the most important stuff.”

  I lowered my voice to a hiss. “Lord Cordus is never going to see it.”

  “He will, Beth. I’m sorry, but it’s going to happen. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  She turned away before wiping quickly at her eyes.

  I felt cold inside and tried not to think of Tiffany and Madisyn. I waited until I could speak firmly.

  “Then look for the cheapest stuff. A rapist doesn’t deserve to see a $13.99 bra.”

  Kara laughed weakly. “You’re a braver woman than I am. Here’re some on sale, two for nine bucks.”

  “Perfect.”

  Kohl’s provided not only all my new black underwear, but also some in lighter colors. I found several pairs of jeans and a bunch of black clothing: three pairs of slacks, two sweaters, and a slinky blouse. I was careful to make sure each item was entirely black. I also got three pairs of pants in other colors and a handful of nice knit tops in muted tones that Kara labeled “tasteful.”

  Kara insisted on Saks for one item on the list — a black suit. While there, I also got what she identified as a “nice” pair of jeans. Those and the suit knocked me back as much as everything I’d bought at Kohl’s.

  For shoes, I put my foot down — Saks was out of my league. Kara took me to Nordstrom. Still a lot of sticker-shock for small-town me, but not quite so bad. I left with heeled boots and a pair of pumps, both in black.

  Our last stop was a sporting-goods store, where I got most of the other things on my list: sweat pants, running shorts, sports bras, socks, and athletic shoes. That stuff gave me a bad feeling. I’d never tended to put on weight, so I’d never gotten into working out. I didn’t particularly want to start.

  Then I remembered trying to haul unconscious Kara along by her feet at the mill. Maybe getting a little stronger wasn’t such a bad idea.

  We didn’t have time to buy the one thing left on the list, a black coat. I’d just have to hope spring came on quickly.

 
We headed back to the estate.

  “So,” I said to Kara as we drove, “Do you live here most of the time?”

  “Thank god, no. I’m based in Minneapolis. Williams and Callie and I are part of the Upper Midwest group. Graham too. He was in charge of it, actually. I’m sure that’s going to change, now.”

  “Oh. Does that mean you’ll head back there soon?”

  “I sure hope so.” She must’ve seen the expression on my face. “I’m sorry, Beth, but I couldn’t stay here with you if I wanted to. And god, I don’t want to. I’m sorry.”

  “I know. I understand.”

  I did understand, but I felt very alone. I liked Kara, but liking someone only mattered so much. Real friendships must be hard when any of us could be sent anywhere, anytime, and where fear was such a dominant force. Another part of Cordus’s control system, maybe.

  “You’ll get to know the New York people. They’re good folks. Maybe you’ll get to hang out with Koji.”

  She gave a half-hearted whistle as tribute to his hotness.

  “Yeah, maybe so,” I said, and tried to smile.

  Gwen knocked on my door at 6:00 the next morning. She suggested I shower and dress, then come with her to breakfast in the dining room at 7:00.

  The staff had been bringing my meals on a tray, but I guess that was too good to last.

  Noting that Gwen hadn’t been wearing black, I put on a pair of beige slacks and a white knit top. Pairing them with the black heels wouldn’t have been my first choice, but beggars couldn’t be choosers — it was either that or boots.

  Breakfast was served in a huge dining room on the second floor. It took up a corner of the house. Tall windows looked out over the front lawn, which swept down and away to the distant tree line. When I stopped by a window and commented on how big the property looked, Gwen said it was over a thousand acres and had been parkland when Cordus took it over in the 1970s.

  “He took over a park? How?”