Dark Tide Rising (Book 1 of The Bright Eyes Trilogy)

by J. M. Rojas

CHAPTER 2: UNINVITED GUESTS

  Rowan leaned down and hugged Elly in her wheelchair. “It was good having you over dear,” the old woman said with a warm smile. However her sad eyes revealed a desire for him to stay longer. “Have a safe trip back to Paradise.”

  “Thanks. I just hope James and Alora remain civil.”

  His mother laughed and put her hands on her hips. “Do you think that is possible even after their older brother has spoiled them?”

  “Anything is possible,” Rowan said with his trademark wink. “And Jack is their older brother, not me.”

  “Rowan––” Elly began.

  “No, he is. And he's doing a great job of it too. You couldn't ask for anyone better.”

  She didn't reply, but smiled, her eyes welling with tears.

  “Now I better go before Emily starts wondering where I am. Oh, before I forget,” Rowan said as he reached into his leather jacket and pulled out an envelope that appeared to be quite full and slipped it into his mother's hands. “You might need this.”

  “You shouldn't have,” she said, embracing Rowan again, and crying softly.

  “Its for the bills,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Elly replied, letting her son go and wiping the tears out of her eyes.

  “Hey, this shouldn't be a tearful goodbye. You will be seeing me tomorrow morning bright and early,” Rowan said as he pulled his motorbike helmet on. He waved at her then disappeared into the night.

  “You better bring Emily with you!” Elly called after him. “We miss her!”

  “I will!” she heard his reply followed by the sound of the motorbike's engine starting.

  Jack watched his mother and half-brother from the end of the hallway. He saw the envelope being passed and knew it was another payment from Rowan to help with their rent and bills. Bills that they never seemed to be on top of, or free from. Jack felt grateful for having Rowan's help and hoped one day to pay him back.

  The sound of Rowan's motorbike riding off into the night signaled Jack's bedtime. He had uni at 8:45 AM the following morning but had to be up at least two hours earlier to help his mum with preparing breakfast.

  As Jack made his way towards his bedroom, Alora's door opened and the girl wandered out into the hallway with a displeased look on her face.

  “What's wrong?” he asked her with a startled look.

  “I found the Boogie Man,” she replied, lifting up a meowing black cat.

  “Jinx?”

  “No,” the girl said, handing the cat to Jack and turning around to pick up a battery-powered talking teddy bear propped in her doorway, “Teddy Rex.”

  The teenager gazed at the dangling feline in his hands and at the toy bear in Alora's with confusion for a moment before slowly making a vague connection. “James,” he said his brother's name accusingly. “But how––”

  “James spoke through Rex somehow. And the low batteries made him sound like a monster. Rex scared me and Jinx.”

  Jack nodded, lowered Jinx to the ground and headed down the hallway towards his brother's room. James' music got louder as he got closer to the door. He knew he was coming.

  “James, open the door,” Jack said after he realized the handle was locked

  “What?” came a reply from the other side, half drowned out by loud heavy metal music.

  “You heard me,” Jack said a little louder, knocking on the door and twisting the handle in vain. “Open the door, I just want to talk.”

  “What? You just want to what?”

  “Talk! I want to talk. Now open the––” Jack stopped and took a deep breath. He looked over his shoulder and saw Alora standing in the hallway with Jinx sitting by her feet––both were looking at him intently. Jack didn't want to break his own rule but what he did next was not strictly forbidden. It was a silent ability that the three used when the time called for it. And now the time called for it. Jack closed his eyes and reopened them, revealing two white, glowing lights.

  I know you can hear me now. Jack said to his younger brother with his mind. Now most people who say things in their heads don't get a response. However the Grey children were not most people. When they used their minds to speak they could hear each and every word as clear as day. Open the door James, I want to talk. He demanded this time.

  There was a long pause. Then his brother's voice replied inside his head. You're not mad at me are you?

  No, I'm not. But don't make this harder than it should be. Otherwise I will get mad.

  The music stopped.

  Jack heard the door being unlocked and then opened. A moment later, James gingerly stuck his head out and asked with a half smile, “Hey, what's wrong?”

  Jack pushed the door open, forcing James back, then walked into his brother's room.

  “What's wrong?” James asked again with feigned concern on his face. His eyes were also glowing white.

  “You know very well what's wrong,” Jack said, closing the door behind him, then plonking himself down on James' bed. He blinked the white light out of his eyes and motioned to his brother to do the same before saying, “I told you and Alora not to use our abilities with mum around. She isn't to know.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about––”

  “Teddy Rex the Boogie Man,” Jack cut in sarcastically, “Is what I'm talking about.”

  James lowered his head, stifled a snigger and looked at his feet. He didn't deny the accusation.

  “You spoke through the toy to scare her,” Jack continued. “And doing things like that without proper reason is against the rules, remember? The rules that we all made together. Rules to protect our secret.”

  “She wouldn't have known,” James protested, lifting his gaze to his brother's.

  “No,” Jack replied. “Mum more than likely didn't know. But if she ever catches us doing something... not normal, she might get scared. Or worse, she might tell someone. Then we could get taken away for experiments or God knows what.” That last comment about government abduction was Jack's biggest weapon to keep his siblings quiet about their abilities. It was always effective.

  “Sorry,” James said dolefully. “I promise not to stuff up like that again.”

  Jack studied his brother's face to see if he was telling the truth, then finally said, “Okay.” He knew his brother was being genuine, because every time James lied he usually looked away and his ears flinched. A telltale sign he was well aware of.

  “Remember,” Jack said, standing up and making his way to the door. “It is to be used only for emergencies or when we are alone together.”

  “That includes––” James started to say.

  “That includes all of our... abilities.” Jack whispered the last part. “Now get some sleep. I'll have breakfast ready for you guys tomorrow morning.”

  “Jack,” James said before his older brother could leave. “I'm truly sorry. I don't want us to be taken away from mum. She would be heartbroken. And I dread to know what would be done to us. ”

  Jack simply nodded. He was about to leave the room when he hesitated and turned to look back at his brother with a slight smile. Throwing a thumb over his shoulder to gesture at Alora's room, he curiously asked, “So how did you do that trick anyway?”

  The question took James by surprise; however he quickly mirrored his older brother's smile and said, “I simply pictured myself inside the robot bear and projected my voice out. Its hard to explain but it has taken me months to perfect. Projecting my voice from objects that is.”

  Jack chuckled softly and after a slight pause of contemplation he left without saying a word.

  No matter how much he tossed and turned, Jack could not get to sleep.

  He finally gave up after an hour or so and sat up in his bed, staring out the open window of his bedroom. A gentle breeze stirred the window's white curtains into a rhythmic dance; like ghosts serenading each other.

  The discussion he had had with James earlier about not using their abi
lities to draw attention to themselves was still fresh in his mind. Jack was scared at the thought of them being taken away from their mother. And scared not just for their own sake either, but for Elly's as well. Ever since the accident, her children––including Rowan and Emily––were all she had left in the world.

  Jack's thoughts then drifted to the fateful night of the accident.

  And to his father.

  He rolled over on one side, flicked on his lamp and peered longingly at the picture frame on his bedside table. A man was in the picture. A man with dark brown hair and a warm smile. He was holding a baby Jack in his hands and receiving a kiss on the cheek from a much younger Eleanor. Thomas Grey had died two years ago in the very same car accident that had taken away his mother's ability to walk. Losing him had left them emotionally, physically, and financially crippled. They almost never recovered.

  A tear glided down Jack's cheek, but he quickly rubbed it away with a sleeve. They needed each other now—more than ever. And to ensure this, the Grey children's abilities had to remain a secret.

  Gifted with abilities they did not fully understand, the Grey children were unlike any other children. Freaks they might be called, or 'unique'. The abilities they had had come to them during the time of grief over their father's death. Abilities that started out as silent prayers and then became something else. They could talk to each other with their minds, communicate with animals and even move objects by just thinking it. The last one being quite difficult to do and leaving the child feeling very tired afterward. Then there was the glowing eyes. Jack had scared himself half to death one day when he spoke to James with his mind whilst brushing his teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. His softly glowing, white eyes––which reacted to the telepathy––made him spit the toothpaste at his reflection in surprise. It took them a couple of weeks to get use to this eerie feature of their powers; but it made walking in the dark much easier and far more interesting, especially during Halloween. And yet with all these abilities, Jack wished above all else that he had the power to bring his father back from the dead.

  A noise outside Jack's window suddenly snapped him out of his reverie. It was a loud humming, followed by the splash of water and scurrying feet.

  Who's there? Jack projected his telepathy out to the unseen intruder. There was no response. The teenager then leaped from his bed––his eyes ablaze in white light––and ran to the window, brushing the billowing curtains aside and peered out into the night.

  Nothing.

  “Curious,” he whispered to himself as his green eyes scanned the backyard through the branches of the old oak tree, which reached up to his window. A big, full moon hung in the dark sky like an ominous eye glaring down at Jack. Moonlight glittered off the white caps of a large ring of mushrooms that surrounded a small pond by the far fence... but there was no one there.

  Jack sighed, his eyes lingering on the pond. Once a shed had stood there. However a mysterious fire had destroyed it and part of the house. The Grey children––their mother had been out shopping with Rowan at the time, and their father was on one of his camping trips up north––only just managed to escape with their lives. Thankfully it was the oak tree's branches that provided that escape.

  Fire fighters blamed the fire on the heater in the living room but Jack's gut feeling told him it was something more sinister. A week later, his father died and his mother was permanently injured in the car accident.

  After two tragedies in a row, Elly couldn't afford to pay the mortgage or the repair bills with her single pensioner's allowance and she was forced to sell the house. Luckily for them the new owner, Mr Ryan Whitley, allowed the family to still rent the place. That was two years ago. The memory of the fire, which had left a large pit in the backyard where the pond had formed, still filled Jack with sadness and unease every time he looked out of his window. Shaking the memory away he slowly pulled his window down and latched it, ending the curtain's gentle dance.

  Jack looked one last time at the empty yard. So many questions. He thought. When will they all be answered?

  What questions? A girl's voice spoke in his head, startling him.

  Alora? Jack asked back with his thoughts. Are you still up?

  Yes! She replied.

  You shouldn't be eavesdropping!

  I wasn't!

  Well go back to bed please. Jack ordered. You have school tomorrow and you'll be sleepy if you don't get some sleep now.

  I can't, I can't sleep. The girl complained telepathically. I keep thinking of the Boogie Man!

  He's not real Alora––

  Hey guys. James' voice suddenly popped in their heads. Stop yelling! I'm trying to get some sleep here!

  Sorry James! Alora shouted with her thoughts. I mean... sorry James. She whispered.

  Yes, sorry James. Jack said. I didn't know I had the volume of my thoughts turned up... like your music. He grinned at his last comment.

  That's not funny! James replied. Now both of you either pipe down or go to bed!

  Okay. Alora said. See you in the morning James!

  Unfortunately. James attempted to say quietly.

  Hey! I heard that James Grey!

  Guys! Jack interrupted. Good night!

  Good night everyone. Alora said in her sweet voice again.

  Night. James huffed.

  Jack laughed softly by the window and shook his head. He stayed up just a little bit longer that night, listening and waiting for whatever made the strange humming noise to return. When it didn't, he finally succumbed to sleep.

  The blue tinge of light faded from the mushroom ring in a dissipating aura. The white domes glistened once again under the moonlight.

  Before the girl could be seen by the silhouette in the window far above the yard, she scrambled quickly to her feet and silently ran along the side of the wall of the house. As she ran her body strangely took on the texture of the wall like a chameleon, revealing only the subtle outline of her moving limbs. A couple of breaths later she slipped around the corner of the building to reach a fence-line the height of her head. Without hesitating to size up the obstacle, the lithe girl leaped agilely over the fence and landed on all fours on the other side. She then darted for the cover of a driveway where three figures waited for her.

  “Glad you could finally join us, Layla,” a voice whispered. It belonged to a handsome young man with long, sandy-blonde hair and a slightly muscular build. Two blue eyes sparkled at her over smiling cheeks, which had the dimples of a cherub. Upon closer inspection, the girl also noticed his legs were soaked in pond-water like hers––his sneakers leaving a trail of wet footprints from the fence. Unlike her however, it didn't affect his cheery demeanour.

  Under the shelter of the driveway Layla could just make out the blonde man's two companions who were standing only a couple of feet behind him, half engulfed in the shadows. Leaning against the Grey family's van was another young man wearing a black leather jacket. He was much thinner than the first and had straight, black hair down to his jawline; and pale white skin as if he had never seen the sun in years. His face seemed cold and aloof and his thin lips were poised in a sarcastic sneer. Beside the ghostly pale youth stood a tall, middle-aged man with a bald head and a short cropped, black and white peppered beard. His facial features were hard and stern, and his eyes were closed as if he were concentrating on something. When Layla took a few more steps closer towards him, the most distinguishable feature about the bald man was revealed in the moonlight: a scar running from the ridge of his left cheek bone down to the tip of his chin.

  “Spending too much time staring at the boy in the window were we?” The black-haired man asked Layla, slyly.

  “No,” the girl replied hastily and somewhat defensively. Spinning around to face her accuser, her skin quickly changed from its chameleon-state back to its original fair appearance. The pretty girl moved a lock of wavy, brown hair out of her sparkling green eyes and looked defiantly back into the young man's scrutinising and ridiculing
gaze. “I was just... never mind.”

  There was a moment of silence before Layla spoke again––this time addressing the three collectively. “Did anyone else hear his conversation?” She tapped on the side of her head to emphasise Jack's telepathy.

  “Yes, I did,” the older man said, his eyes still closed. His voice was deep; sending tingles up Layla's spine when he spoke.

  “And I,” the pale man added quite irritatedly, “teleported in that God forsaken pond just as the boy and his siblings started yelling 'goodnight' at each other.”

  “Oh come on now, Cloak,” the blonde man chuckled softly, “they're only teenagers.”

  “That's all the reason I need, Will.”

  “Now that's harsh––”

  “Quiet, all of you!” the bald headed man commanded, his eyes suddenly opening. They were misty grey like a gathering storm and moved from one face to the next, before finally resting on Layla. “We've wasted enough time already. Let's go.” He then began to move swiftly a long side the van and waved at the others to follow.

  “Sorry, Mathias,” Will said, his usual cheeriness replaced by serious obedience. He ran up beside the older man to match his brisk pace.

  Cloak simply snorted in disgust and ran after them.

  The four moved stealthily out of the driveway, across the house's front lawn, and towards the road. They moved about silently and unseen like a group of professional house burglars. The stillness of the night was unfortunately broken when William accidentally kicked over and shattered a garden gnome against a garden rock, hindering their escape. Somewhere in the neighbouring yard a dog began to bark gruffly at the intruders. Another dog several houses down barked back in response and soon the whole street was a canine choir.

  “The park!” Mathias said, pointing across the road to a small lot, which was crowded in by thick, shadowy trees.

  In a blur of incredible speed the four ran towards the park. Their bodies shimmered watery under the streetlights and suddenly took on the chameleon aspect, which Layla had used earlier; only their moving outlines could be seen. In a few breaths they were within the protection of the trees.

  Mathias sat wearily upon a park bench to catch his breath back and Layla joined him. She took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes, sensing a sudden change in his mood. “What is wrong?” She asked.

  “Thomasʼ children,” the bald man answered in a distant voice. He dropped his head and slumped his shoulders.

  “What of them?” Layla pushed.

  Mathias lifted up his face and stared at her. There was sadness in his storm-grey eyes. “He has left them with such a great burden to bare.”