Rebirth (Cross Book 1)

by Hildred Billings

  Regina did not reach for a muffin. “Guess I was meant to make these muffins for you.”

  “Her loss!”

  “Danielle,” Regina began again, grim. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah?”

  Regina contemplated the window’s view. “What’s your very first memory?”

  “Ah, what? C’mon, now.”

  “Answer me.”

  Danielle’s smile faded. “I don’t know… I guess coming here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I don’t remember much of anything from when I was little. Besides…”

  Regina did not say anything.

  “Except,” Danielle sighed, “that’s kinda what I came to talk to you about. I’ve been…”

  “I know, hon.” Regina extended her hand and put it on her granddaughter’s shoulder.

  “What?”

  Regina shook her head, curly black and gray hair settling onto her shoulders.

  “Please, don’t tell anybody.” Danielle caught a hiccup in her throat. “I can’t get discharged. Not now. Not for this.”

  “Of course I won’t tell anybody. But there’s something I want to know, and I want you to answer me truthfully.”

  “Yes?”

  Regina continued to stare out the window instead of looking her granddaughter in the eye. “Do these visions scare you?”

  Danielle considered what she said for a moment. Granted, she did not like her flashbacks sneaking up on her and leaving her comatose for however long. But did she fear them? “No, Gran, I’m not scared anymore. When they started again I was surprised, but I’m not scared of them. I don’t like them, but it’s okay, really.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Don’t you know? They’re just visions of a past life.” Danielle placed a piece of chocolate muffin into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to say anymore.

  But Regina’s eyes grew. “What makes you say that?”

  “That’s what all those psychics would say. Besides, don’t count anything out.”

  “I suppose. Don’t you think you should go back to the doctor, though?”

  “God, no. I think they messed me up more than the visions did.” Danielle stared at the checkered tablecloth. “What was I like? When I had those seizures.”

  Regina’s somber countenance betrayed the geniality she attempted. “The first time you had one, you had only been with us for a couple of months. I thought maybe your mother had abused you. Then I thought you were having violent nightmares. But then they started happening during the day, at your daycare, even in the store. You would stop whatever you were doing and fall over and start squirming and saying incoherent things. Sometimes I swore you were speaking a different language. I took you to the hospital. I was so scared when I saw the horrified look on the doctor’s face. He said he never saw anything like it before. They called in psychiatrists, psychologists, whatever. Eventually, we could only pray you got over it.”

  “Jesus.” Danielle brushed her fingers across her cheek. “These names… do you remember what they were?”

  “Not most of them no, I don’t. But there was one name you cried for a lot. I don’t remember the sound specifically, but it was very short and rough. I’m sorry to tell you all of this, Danielle. But you were so young I guess you don’t remember any of it.”

  “I remember a little,” Danielle said. “The visions I have now… they’re not as violent as that. I’m okay, really.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Danielle paused above her half-eaten muffin. “My supervisor called me into her office the other day to talk about my mental health. Right after that I started having visions again.”

  She expected a quick reply from her grandmother, but all Regina did was stare out the window, eyes furrowed into one deep and dark brow. “She did that, huh?”

  “Yes?”

  “I told her not to.”

  “What? Have you talked to Capt. Hotchner recently?”

  “Yes, we keep in touch, you know.”

  “Gran, my file is confidential, you know. She shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  “I pressed her.”

  “Why?”

  Regina drummed her fingers on the table. “She said individual personnel reviews were coming up and I mentioned your mental history. I’ve told her about it before.”

  “Why?” Danielle became more incensed by the words she heard. Why were her grandmother and her supervisor trading secrets about her mental history?

  “I told her when you entered that office. It was a deal.”

  “A deal?”

  “I had you transferred there for two reasons. Because I knew it was best for your situation… and because I knew I could trust Miranda with your delicate health. She’s been looking out for you ever since you started working beneath her.”

  Danielle thought back to the locker room. Wasn’t it a nice coincidence that Miranda happened to be there while Danielle had an episode? Her chest grew heavy, and not only because it was stuffy in the country kitchen. “I didn’t know. I…” Was this the moment she spilled everything? Was it Regina’s turn to know? “You trust me, right? I would never lie to you.”

  “You’ve lied to me before…”

  “I don’t mean trivial lies. You know I’m not the type to make up stories.”

  “What’s going on, Danielle?”

  The phone rang. “Just a second,” Regina said, crossing the kitchen to pick up the phone. As she began a conversation with one of her friends from town, Danielle covered her face with her hands – it was not meant to be that day.

  She went up to her old bedroom while her grandmother was distracted. The room wasn’t as musty as it had been when Danielle stayed the night during Christmas. I suppose the good weather means Gran is airing it out more, Danielle thought, her hands in her pockets as she sat down on the edge of her old twin bed and wondered if that assassin could come for her here.

  Come for her. And her grandmother.

  No matter where Danielle went, she was a liability. If she stayed home, she put the other residents of her apartment building in danger. If she came here, her grandmother could get hurt. Work was probably the safest place for her. But where could she go in the off-hours? How much longer could she stand to think about it before her head exploded?

  Danielle slipped off the bed and sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her bent legs and head resting back on the navy-blue comforter she once thought the comfiest in the world. This room was both a nostalgia bomb and a forgotten prison. Between the Junior Rodeo trophies lining the wall and the old Hole, No Doubt, and Garbage posters on the wall, it was a time capsule that perfectly captured her middle and high school years. But the stacks of psychology books in one corner and the blankets Regina specifically bought for Danielle’s seizure spells spoke of a time when doctors were afraid to even let her out of the house. She could’ve gotten hurt out there. She could’ve brought on questions from curious, nosy people. Regina didn’t want to lose custody of her granddaughter, did she?

  Danielle absorbed the energy of her room before opening the bottom drawer on her desk. Notebooks from English and history classes looked back up at her. Paperclips. Forgotten erasers. A permission slip for a field trip she never had her grandmother sign, because young Danielle hadn’t wanted to go.

  A piece of paper fell out of one of the notebooks before Danielle had the chance to peruse it.

  She assumed it was a note from one of her old classmates. But when she unfolded the crease and stared at the handwriting gracing the lined paper, she realized none of the words were in English. Nor were they in Spanish or Japanese, the two foreign languages Danielle studied off and on throughout high school.

  Back when she first found it on her desk, she had shoved it into one of her notebooks for a lack of anywhere else to put an indecipherable note. Back then, Danielle Cromwell could not read alien languages. She didn’t even know “aliens” existed.

  This is that language
Marlow was reading in his office, she thought. Or was it? In truth, it wasn’t the Modern Basic currently spoken and written throughout the Federation. It was an archaic version, long extinct as trends and needs evolved over the millennia.

  Danielle didn’t know that much, however. All she knew was that this was an alien language.

  She tucked it into her pocket and stared out the window. Gone were the days of ignorance. Soon, her life would revolve around learning too much in too little time. These sweet moments of peace and quiet she now treasured the most.

  So why was she crying?

  EIGHTEEN

  Clyde did not speak to Devon for the rest of the afternoon. They missed their meeting at the bar, but neither minded since Clyde was in a constant state of delusion and Devon was busy trying to keep his friend from fainting.

  Although still without a license, Devon placed Clyde in the passenger seat of his car and hopped into the driver’s seat. Clyde spent the whole trip with his face pressed against the window. Devon was more focused on not getting pulled over.

  “C’mon, man, talk to me.” Clyde refused to get out of the car when they reached his apartment. “Shit, dude, I couldn’t tell you about this! But I swear to God I’m still your friend! Just because I happen to work for some old wizard guy who wants me to save the world from his crazy old BFF… man, I don’t know what to say.”

  Clyde rolled his head over in Devon’s direction. “Your other girlfriend just transported us to another fucking dimension!”

  “Actually, that was me. This tattoo here? It does weird shit. You’re welcome, by the way, for saving your ass.”

  “Dude…”

  “Also, so we’re clear? She is not my girlfriend.”

  Clyde slouched into his seat. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  “Tell Alicia about any of this, and I’ll kill you.” Devon undid his seatbelt. “I’m going to go drink some beer because I damn well deserve it right now.”

  Clyde said nothing but followed his friend inside, where they had the whole place to themselves. A note from Alicia said she was out grabbing groceries and possibly having early evening tea with a friend. Devon fished two cans of beer out of the fridge and joined his friend on the couch. Neither of them turned on the TV while they drank.

  “So, yeah, explanation whenever you feel like it, buddy.”

  Devon took a swig of beer before speaking. “You know all that I know.”

  “Tell me again.”

  Devon dove into a story rife with peril. Clyde drank in silence as Devon rambled off about Marlow, the hired assassins, Relics, past lives, and even a bit about Sonall. What Devon left out, however, was that Sonall used to be in love with Danielle’s past self. Devon did not want to believe he was in love with Danielle, although he did find her attractive and enjoyed the parts of her personality he saw. But in love? He laughed. He wasn’t that naïve.

  “Man, this shit is whacked.” Clyde drank some more beer. “You know, normally I would say you’re crazy, but considering what we went through today, I guess I don’t have much choice but to give you the benefit of a doubt. Either that, or it’s one helluva practical joke, dude.”

  “You have no idea how much I wish it was.”

  “I bet.” Clyde drank again. “That sounds like bullshit… but then again… man, I don’t know! What do I think, anyway? Shit, you know what? I’ll be chill. I won’t tell anybody this shit. But what are you going to do about Alicia?”

  “I’m not telling her shit!”

  “You’re gonna have to tell her something. What are you going to do when you’re sitting here and that assassin comes in to kill you guys? You gonna let her find out about this the way I did? She’ll rip your nuts off!”

  “Maybe, but at least she’d have to believe me. I’d rather us break up over something normal and not because she thought I had lost my mind.”

  “True, but it won’t end pretty.”

  “Perhaps, but that’s more or less my attitude toward it.”

  Clyde finished off his beer and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Nice attitude.”

  “Danielle thinks I should tell her, too, but she doesn’t know Alicia.”

  “Oh, shit, has she met your girlfriend yet?”

  “No, thank God.”

  The door opened. Alicia appeared, arms laden with two bags of groceries and her black purse slipping down her right arm. She shuffled through the living area and around the corner to the kitchen, where she plopped the bags on the counter.

  She glared at Clyde through cold, gray eyes. “What are the two of you doing? I thought you had your band practice? Are you drinking beer this early in the day?”

  Devon stood before Clyde could open his faulty mouth. “It’s a mini-celebration!” The smile on his face and the good humor in his voice both unnerved and confused Clyde. What was he talking about? Devon wandered from the couch to where Alicia continued to stand in bewilderment. “Turns out we got that gig Serge talked about, and we’re the main act! No more meager opening band. We’re moving up!” He gave her a tiny punch to the shoulder.

  Alicia threw down her gloves. “When are you going to grow up? Is this what you want to do? Play guitar for the rest of your life? What was the point going to school for four years if that’s all you’re going to do? Get a job.”

  Clyde turned his head away while Devon bristled, posture going down, down, down until he forced himself to stand upright again. “I’m sending out résumés next week. I know the band will never be anything more than a weekend show at the local bar. I don’t care. You get to do your activism, and I get to play guitar and sing songs. Don’t worry, we’ll both grow up.”

  He waited for her to send something testy back at him, but she did not. Devon held his breath and thanked his lucky pick. And now, he thought, he would have to make good on that promise to send out résumés. With the recent developments in saving the world, Devon had forgotten about finding a day job.

  “Get to it, then.” Alicia stripped off her coat. “I have one more paper to work on before I’m free, and then I have to follow through on a job prospect for this summer. We’re going to have to make money between the two of us somehow. You won’t be able to keep your campus job.”

  “We also have to find a new place to live.”

  For the first time in a long while, Alicia smiled at him. “Glad you remember.”

  Once she left, Devon turned to Clyde. “By the way.” He would be remiss to not tell his friend one pivotal piece of information. “I’m supposed to tell you to leave town. Those guys might come after you.”

  Clyde’s frown disappeared quicker than a bird from a tree. “I’ll take my chances. If they come after me, I guess it is true.”

  “I don’t want my friends getting hurt.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to worry about this ‘Relic’ shit instead? We should get on that. Got any leads?”

  “We?”

  Clyde pointed an all-knowing finger at his friend. “We. Totally.”

  ***

  Miranda burst into her house, jittery hands reaching for alcohol. She threw her things down on her couch and raided her refrigerator and cupboards, looking for anything to get her smashed as soon as possible.

  But before she could decide between two separate bottles, her phone rang.

  “What?” she spat.

  Syrfila cleared her throat on the other end. “Hello there, sweetheart, and how are you this fine evening?”

  “What the fuck do you want?” Miranda slammed her refrigerator door shut.

  “Just thinking about you, sugar.” Syrfila’s voice was laced in the usual sarcastic flattery. “I’m sitting here in my room after a long, hard day of playing End the World. You?”

  “Is that all?”

  “What crawled up in your vagina and died? I had my ass handed to me today by a couple of shitass reincarnated mercenaries and their best friends. You think I enjoyed it?”

  “You what?”

  “You’re so s
urprised? Spare me. One of us had to get to work. Stopped by your gal pal’s place and tried to put some bullets in some heads. I waited too long. Either that or you’ve been training them in self-defense on the side.”

  “You didn’t…”

  “Fuck off! I’ve got a job to do.”

  “Did you…”

  “Like I said, I got my ass kicked. I’ve gotta come up with a new plan. Would be nice if someone helped me. They probably all know who I am now.”

  Miranda could not take it anymore. She slammed her thumb against the power button and threw her phone across the room. A scream ripped from the depths of her throat, her blood curdling under the onus of terror. As the first slew of tears erupted from her dark eyes, Miranda wondered why she bothered.

  She would die. Danielle would die. That boy would die. Then they would be reborn, cursed to live this cycle until the end of time.

  She couldn’t even take solace in the fact that they would be together in their eternal misery.

  ***

  Sleep eluded Danielle for most of the night. Weaving constantly in and out of consciousness within the dark confines of her old bedroom, fearing she would die at any moment, Danielle could not fathom the difference between her dreams and the real world. She woke twice in a single hour, and both times she dreaded going back to sleep.

  Her greatest fears came true as soon as she closed her eyes again.

  Any other time, she would welcome such a dream imposing on her subconscious, but that night, even an old-fashioned sex dream tightened her nerves and made her grit her teeth.

  No audio. No real vision. All she recognized was a woman who smelled like the perfume perforating her shirt and the pillow beneath her head.

  Yet Danielle’s body was overwrought with fear. Her nostrils filled with the rosy perfume of the sheets. Her skin pricked and stroked for the comfort of eternity. Her tongue tasted dirty skin and sweat. Her ears could only pick up the sounds of heavy moans and breathing.

  Her eyes, although drenched in darkness, knew every inch of her lover’s body from seeing it many times before.