by Nathan Roden
I had seen Skyler’s concert videos. The stage mock-up where we rehearsed at the ranch was impressive. But nothing in the world could have prepared me for seeing the actual stage where Skyler KwyK performs for a packed arena. To say that the sight was surreal does not even do it justice.
The lights, the ramps, the hydraulic lift systems—walkways and balconies three stories high. The jaw-dropping stage spectacle just went on and on. Everything was designed to make it possible for Skyler to be up-close-and-personal with twenty thousand fans.
I watched the dancers testing out a bungee cord/trapeze apparatus. There was no doubt about it; this was waaaay more than just a concert—this was an extravaganza.
It blew me away to think that this massive construction was built to display the talents of a single girl—the same girl who had once stood on my front porch wearing a Cardinals cap and holding a pizza carrier.
The day flew by. I made myself eat some fruit. I wasn’t about to take any chances by eating anything exotic.
Our sound check was going to be short, and our gear would only be set up at the last minute—in front of the main stage. I didn’t expect to see or speak to Skyler before show time. There was too much to do.
“Wyyyyyylieeeee!”
I heard Skyler’s voice over the sound system, but I had no idea where she was.
I should have known. She was on the walkway. The very highest walkway—waving at me, like I might actually come up there.
That was an inside joke. The joke started a few weeks ago when Skyler first suggested that we perform our duets from up there.
Nope, nope, nope, and nope. That’s what I told her. I do not like heights, and I can think of nothing more miserable than me getting sick up there, spewing down on the band and the equipment and the front row. I’m sorry for painting that mental picture, but I have been known to over-share.
I waved up at Skyler, but a second later, my life was no longer my own.
I was swooped down upon by the staff in charge. I didn’t even know what time it was. I was escorted to hair and makeup. At least they had the rest of the members of my band together in the same room while they whipped us into shape.
The makeup staff released Bo from his chair. I barely recognized him. I had gotten used to seeing him in faded jeans with the legs sliced, and his ragged black sleeveless t-shirt. Right now, his long, black hair was in a stylish ponytail. He was already dressed in his stage outfit—form-fitting black spandex pants with a matching top. Both featured muted silver sequins—shiny enough to be elegant, but subdued enough not to attract a lot of attention.
Nate’s outfit was sparser. Even though this was a pop band, the drummer was still going to be thrashing around a lot. I noticed that the makeup people spent more time on him than the other band members.
Nate noticed me laughing at him as he was being worked over in the makeup chair. A tech was trying to shove me into a chair, but I resisted long enough to whisper into Nate’s ear.
“Just look at him! He’s gorgeous!”
“Don’t be jealous, Wyles,” Nate said. “After all, I was voted ‘Sexiest Home Improvement Store Manager’. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”
“I don’t. I have much better reasons than that.”
“Let’s do this thing, Bro,” Nate said.
“Absolutely. Let’s go break some legs.”
“Dozens,” he said. “Dozens of legs.”
“We’re making no sense.”
“So what’s new?” Nate said.
“This is really happening,” I said.
“It was only a matter of time.”
“I love you, Nate.”
“I love you, Wylie.”
“This is all so, very touching, but if you don’t sit still, I’m going to hit you with a hammer,” Celeste said.
Nate and I laughed ourselves silly over that one.
“I think she means it,” Nate said.
“Of course, she does.”
As soon as I stood up from the makeup chair, a stagehand with a headset and a clipboard popped his head in. He said that it was time to report to our dressing room. I looked up at the clock on the wall.
Holy crap.
It was almost time.
I can’t say that I was a big fan of my stage outfit. Maybe this was the modern standard for pop music performers, but I was a little embarrassed. In my old neighborhood in Boston, wearing clothes like these would probably get you hurt. I felt a little better when I saw the rest of the band in their costumes. I wasn’t alone.
None of the band seemed to give a second thought to their clothes. They were limbering up and stretching. A couple of them paced back and forth and looked like they were psyching up for a prize fight. Half of the band members were tour veterans. But for Bo, the bass player and another one of the guitar players, this was also their big stage debut. It’s not like they were just plucked off of the street. Both of them had fathers who were members of touring bands.
We met briefly with the head of the road crew. He told us about three different places around the stage where copies of our set list were posted.
“You wouldn’t believe how many bands freeze up and can’t remember which song to play next,” he told us.
Great. I could have gone all day without hearing that.
Chris Chadwick dropped by for a couple of minutes.
“You’re going to do great, Wylie. The band is tight—even with that funky drummer of yours.”
Nate overheard that. For Chris’s benefit, Nate twirled a drumstick and pretended to fumble it. It flew into the wall.
“Oops,” he said.
Chris smirked.
“We picked up the coolest stage prop,” Chris said. “A giant metronome—it stands about fifteen feet tall. We put it behind the drums.”
“I will kill it,” Nate said. “I will beat it to death with my shoe.”
Chris laughed.
“Don’t worry about a thing. None of us know what to expect out of the gate, but I guarantee you that everyone in that audience knows ‘Like a Bullet’. It climbed a notch to number three in the nation today—and the live version is gonna slay this crowd!”
“That’s awesome,” I said.
“Remember, when your set is over, there will be a crew member waiting to lead you to the mayor’s box. You still want to watch Skyler’s show from out front, right?” Chris asked.
“Yeah. I haven’t got to watch her work the big stage yet. It will be cool to watch her show as a fan.”
“Okay,” Chris said. “Be sure you don’t lose track of time. You have to be on your mark at forty seconds into Skyler’s first encore. Don’t forget that you have to change outfits. It takes a little while to get through the labyrinth between the luxury boxes and the stage entrance. Make sure to make time for a bathroom break.”
“Yeah, this outfit isn’t exactly designed with the toilet in mind,” I said. “Have your people ever heard of pants? They’re wonderful.”
Chris held out his hand.
“Kick their butts.”
I shook his hand.
“Consider those butts kicked.”
Twenty-Eight
Holly McFadden
Branson, Missouri
Holly busied herself around the castle. She had been avoiding Quentin Lynchburg lately because his eyes reminded her of a sad puppy. If Quentin intended to try and convince her that Wylie had not fallen for Skyler KwyK, she did not feel obligated to play along.
Why was that so hard to believe? Holly thought.
He’s a talented young man, and she’s a talented and beautiful young girl. Throw them together, day after day, and what do you get? That formula doesn’t take a genius to figure out.
Holly had other things to concern herself with. Quentin appeared to be serious about selling the castle back to the McFaddens. It was true that the castle was only put up for sale because the entire world thought its owners were dead.
There was no way that Quentin could
recoup the majority of his money—and he did not expect to. He had spent too many millions of dollars in the relocation for that to happen.
Part of the arrangement would involve keeping the castle open as a tourist attraction. Holly was determined that she would work long and hard to hold up her family’s part of the bargain. She loved Quentin, but she would not take charity from him. She also would not turn a blind eye to Quentin’s friend, Wylie Westerhouse, rubbing up against a rich pop singer.
Holly finished making her bed. A thought occurred to her. A disturbing thought.
The sight. The ghost sight.
There were only three people on earth with whom she had shared her ability to see the dead. One was her father. The second was her Uncle Seth. In both of those circumstances, the effect was temporary and conditional. The less physical contact Holly had with them, the quicker the sight transfer disappeared.
But months ago, she shared her ability with Wylie. And for the first time in her life, the transfer had not disappeared. Since the day that she and Wylie kissed, the sight had not left him.
Was that it? Was it her kiss that had done it? How could she know?
And had Wylie kissed…?
Holly felt sick.
Have I only been concerned with this stupid little girl crush? Has that kept me from thinking about the spread of panic and chaos throughout this country—throughout the world?
Holly’s legs trembled. She fell into a chair. She was hot and cold at the same time.
Her thoughts bombarded her from all sides.
It won’t be long before they figure out where the sight originated. They’ll swarm down on this place like I possess a doomsday weapon. They’ll want me locked away, and they’ll send as many as necessary to do it. They’ll hold me under lock and key, where they can contain my poison—
Where they can deal—with me.
My mother’s nightmare—the nightmare that kept her away from me for thirteen years—it is coming to pass.
Holly swallowed hard. She had to talk to Wylie, whether she liked it or not. He was in danger and he may not even realize it.
Holly picked up her phone from the dresser. She had forgotten to plug it into the charger, and it was dead. Her hands shook as she attempted to plug it in.
There were three sharp knocks at her door. The door swung open.
“Holly, we have to talk, Baby,” Gwen McFadden said. Gwen and Oliver walked into the room. Behind Oliver walked an exhausted-looking woman with red, wet eyes and a man in a military uniform who needed a shave.
“Holly, do you remember your Aunt Emily and Uncle Robert?” Oliver asked.
“I…think so. It’s been a very long time.”
“Yes,” Robert said. “At Christmas time—many years ago.”
“You have a little girl,” Holly said. She looked at Emily, who was weeping.
“Tara,” Emily said. “You remember her?”
“Yes,” Holly said.
“Tara is in…she’s in some trouble,” Oliver said quietly.
“Is she here?” Holly asked.
“No,” Robert said. “She…she has….run away.”
“I haven’t seen her,” Holly said. “And I haven’t heard from her—not since I was six years old. I didn’t even know where you lived.”
“That’s been my fault,” Robert said. “I’ve been transferred so many times that I sometimes forget where we live, myself. And I am discouraged from disclosing my current assignment.”
“I don’t understand,” Holly said. She looked to her parents, who expressions were almost as pained as the others.
Robert Jamison carried a laptop computer. He opened it and set it on a table.
Robert turned around and sighed.
“I need for you to see this, Holly.”
Holly watched the video from the London Zoo. When she saw the boy levitating over the bear enclosure in the midst of screaming children, chills ran over her. And when the camera turned to the trembling girl in the background, Holly almost fainted. The girl’s eyes were rolled into the back or her head. Electricity sparked all around her.
Robert turned the computer off.
“The girl—the one in the trance—”
“That was Tara,” Holly said.
“Yes,” Emily whispered.
“What happened?” Holly asked.
“The boy was attacked by the bears,” Robert said. “He sustained several injuries.”
“He’s very much alive,” Emily said. “They just wouldn’t leave her alone!”
Gwen put her arm around Emily. Emily was a wreck.
“The other kids have always picked on Tara,” Robert said softly. “She’s been in so many different schools—you know how kids can be.”
Holly nodded, although she really did not know ‘how other kids can be’. Her life as a child had been pretty much the opposite of Tara’s.
“You haven’t spoken with Tara?” Robert asked. “Never?”
“No, Sir,” Holly said. “I…why do you think that I had? Do you think she has come to America?”
“No,” Robert said. “But she’s in trouble, Holly. A lot of trouble.”
“What happened—after…after the thing with the boy?”
Gwen led Emily to a chair beside Holly’s bed. Robert took a couple of steps away from her.
“Tara has been in other trouble,” Robert whispered. “She has escaped—twice. And we have no idea where she is.”
“Escaped?” Holly whispered back.
Robert sighed.
“A lot of people saw the video before it could be contained. Some parents complained to the school. They required Tara to have a psychiatric evaluation. The day of her examination, they found the psychiatrist unconscious. His arm was nearly torn from his body.”
“Oh my God!” Oliver and Holly said together.
“She was picked up at the train station before she could leave the city,” Robert said. “She escaped from a police station a short time later. There was a hole in the wall of the holding cell—like someone had used an explosive.”
Holly and Oliver looked at each other and squeezed each other’s hand.
“Why are you here, Uncle Robert?” Holly asked.
“The police held Tara for questioning after the incident with the psychiatrist,” Robert said. “She wouldn’t answer any of their questions. Just before she escaped, she told an Inspector that there was only one person she would talk to.
“You, Holly.”
“Me?” Holly exclaimed. Gwen and Emily looked up.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said.
“Why would she want to talk to me?” Holly whispered to Robert.
Robert tried to smile.
“Are you telekinetic?”
“No!” Holly screamed a whisper. She looked at her father.
“I am not!”
“Please, Holly,” Robert said. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just desperately trying to understand this.”
Holly had a hard time breathing. She closed her eyes and tried to remember those few days in this very same castle. The memory was half-way around the world and thirteen years old.
Tara had been four years old. She was a bright child but gave no sign of being anything other than a normal little girl.
Why in the world would Tara want to talk to her? If Tara had telekinetic powers, what did that have to do with her?
Holly thought back to the first evening in the castle, after her family members arrived. She did remember teaming up with Charlotte and Nora to punish her rowdy boy cousins. The boys had been bullying her, right in her own home. Holly decided to put a stop to that.
Could that have something to do with Tara wanting to talk to her? Holly thought.
No. She didn’t see how. Unless…
Tara could see the ghosts, too.
“Robert,” Oliver said. “Surely you haven’t come across the ocean just to ask Holly questions.”
“No,” Robert said. He leaned in closer.
“I’m at my wits end, here. Emily is going off the rails. She can’t sleep. Our only child is out there, somewhere—alone and frightened. She has some kind of power that she may not be able to control. Who knows what she might—”
“Listen to me,” he continued. “I beg you; please do not repeat any of this to anyone. I’ve spent my entire adult life in military service. I’m telling you right now, there will be a lot of scary people looking for our daughter, and for all the wrong reasons. I’m desperate.”
“What exactly do you mean by desperate?” Oliver asked.
Robert looked at Holly.
“I need your help, Holly. You’re the only lead we have that might help us find her—before anyone else does. I’m asking you to come back with me. I understand that you work here. I am perfectly willing to cover your salary as well as expenses. I…I don’t know what else to do.”
“You can’t be serious, Robert!” Oliver said.
“I’ll come,” Holly said.
“Holly?” Oliver said. “This is crazy!”
Holly put her hand on her father’s arm.
“I know that. I’m well acquainted with ‘crazy’. Tara is scared, and alone, and she feels like she hasn’t a friend in the world right now. And she’s family.”
Oliver hugged his daughter.
“The world needs a lot more like you, my love.”
Holly felt a third hand against her back. She suddenly realized that she had not checked the room. Oliver realized it too, but it was too late.
Robert was staring into a corner at a transparent man and woman.
Robert Jamison had an extensive background in military history. He instantly recognized the uniform worn by Baron Dallas McIntyre. The woman at his side wore a dress from the same era.