Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Immortal
Immortal Works LLC
1505 Glenrose Drive
Salt Lake City, Utah 84104
Tel: (385) 202-0116
© 2021 Holli Anderson
https://www.holli-anderson.com/
Cover Art by Megan King and Ashley Literski
www.approximatelymeganndesign.com
http://strangedevotion.wixsite.com/strangedesigns
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For more information email [email protected] or visit http://www.immortal-works.com/contact/.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-953491-15-2 (Paperback)
ASIN B08YN87M48 (Kindle Edition)
"To Wayne and Kilee: The boy who was saved and the girl who saved him.
And to my husband, Steve: You're my favorite human."
Ash and bits of burning paper spiraled above the metal barrel as the wind picked up. Kaylee hid in the shadows a half-block away from the ragged group surrounding the fire beneath the viaduct, their hands held above the flames licking from the rim. She squinted, trying to determine if this was the group she’d been looking for.
A man with a dark brown tangled beard looked up at her just in time for their eyes to meet. She held her breath for a few heartbeats, worried about the danger she’d put herself in alone in this part of town—a Denver she never knew existed. The man tilted his head to the side in a quick show of curiosity, then returned his gaze to the hypnotics of the flames. Kaylee blew out her breath, the warm air mixing with the frigid to form a puff of white.
Quick footsteps sounded behind her. She twisted at the waist, and with no time for fight or flight to kick in, was met by a man, still running, as he tackled her to the ground. With a grunt, every ounce of air in her lungs whooshed out as she hit the gravel. Her phone flew from her hand, landing with a crunch several feet out of her reach. She couldn’t even draw in a breath, much less scream for help, not that she expected any to come.
She punched her assailant’s face, scratching at his eyes as her own vision became spotty before her. Her legs pinned under the weight of the brown-toothed man, she couldn’t even kick him. He got a grip on her wrists and leaned down to push them against the ground, his face so close to hers their noses nearly touched—just as her lungs decided to start working again. She breathed in his rancid breath—all rot-gut whiskey, rotting teeth, and recently smoked…something. Meth, maybe? She had no idea what meth smelled like, but if she had to guess, this was it.
She retched, fear and disgust causing her whole body to tremble as she tried to hold in the street tacos she’d wolfed down a couple hours ago. Her head wasn’t clearing up as quickly as it should now that she was getting oxygen. And it hurt. The back of her head hurt. She’d been concentrating so hard on re-inflating her lungs, she’d missed the fact that her head had bounced off a rock or something else solid.
“Heh. Yer a perty one,” her attacker slurred. He released her right hand to paw at the zipper of her coat. “See what’s under there…”
Twisting away from his groping hand, she screamed and raked the side of his face with her fingernails. It wasn’t as effective as she’d hoped it would be, she’d bitten her nails down to the quick during mid-terms last week. Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut as the man raised his hand in a fist.
The blow glanced off her temple, adding to the swimming in her head. Her eyes flew open as his weight shifted. The man she’d made eye contact with above the flames of the barrel slammed into her assailant, rolling her to her side with the force of his attack.
Kaylee covered her head with her arms to keep the men’s flailing feet from connecting with her already-damaged head and curled into a ball. Gravel crunched beneath them for a few seconds before a new voice—not the voice of her attacker—said, “Get out of here. And don’t come back.”
A gentle touch to her arm. Kaylee twitched and squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
“Are you okay?” His quiet voice surprised her with its softness. Shouldn’t homeless people have rough voices to match their countenance?
She slowly removed her arms from around her head and uncurled from her fetal position. Shadowed eyes stared at her from beneath dirty bangs pressed flat by a blue and orange beanie. “I…I think so.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position. Mistake. The world spun about her as her vision faded around the edges. “Oh…” She lowered herself back to the cold ground.
“You’re not okay,” the man mumbled. “Do you have a phone? I think I should call an ambulance.”
“No. No ambulance. Just give me a minute.” She touched the center point of pain on the back of her head—her fingers came away wet and sticky. She opened her eyes, trying to focus on her fingers as she held them in front of her face.
“You’re bleeding. And shivering.”
“I’m okay.” She just needed to find her phone and get back to her car. Alone. Her teeth chattered. She pushed up on her elbow, slower this time, and searched the ground.
“Look,” he swiped the hair out of his downcast eyes, “you should at least let me take a look at that cut on your head and let me help you to the fire so you can get warm while you recover a little.”
“My phone.” She’d finally spotted it a few yards away. She shoved herself up, intending to stand so she could go get it. “Whoa,” she covered her mouth with her hands as she sunk back down to her side, “I’m gonna throw up.”
The man retrieved her phone then knelt beside her while she took quick breaths, trying to keep the nausea at bay. “Come on.” He tucked her phone into her left hand and held a hand out to her. “Let me help you over to the fire.”
Kaylee glanced in that direction. The three people that remained around the barrel paid no attention to them, instead they all stared at the flames, swaying back and forth.
“They’re okay.” The man jerked his head toward the others. “They won’t hurt you.”
The screen on her phone was shattered. She tried pushing the home button anyway, hoping it would still work. No such luck. The spider-webbed screen remained dark. She’d have to trust him. He did just save her from that other man. And he seemed sane enough. There was no way she could get to her car in this state, much less drive it.
She raised her hand to his and his fingers closed over hers. He said, “Take it easy. Just stand up real slow. I got ya.”
She’d assumed he’d be frail, living on the streets and all, but when she wavered and leaned heavily into his side, he encircled her waist with a strong arm, supporting her weight until she got her balance. Maybe he was newly homeless.
As they neared the fire, one of the three standing around it—a wai
f of a girl wearing layers of mismatched winter clothing—looked at her with half-lidded eyes. “She okay?”
“She will be. Has a cut head and probably a concussion.”
“Good thing Doc Blayne is here to help her out,” said a kid that couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen. Around the same age as Kaylee’s little brother.
“Shut up, dork,” Blayne said with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Grab my bag and drag it over here to give her something to lean against.”
The boy rolled his eyes but shuffled over to a large duffel bag leaning against a concrete pillar. He dragged it over next to Blayne and Kaylee, then tromped back to his spot by the fire.
“Sit down, lean your back against my bag,” Blayne said as he helped her down to the ground. He unzipped his coat and shrugged out of it, then draped it over Kaylee’s legs.
“No,” Kaylee protested. “It’s freezing out here. You’ll freeze.”
“I’ll be fine. Can I take a look at your head, now?”
She nodded and leaned forward.
“It looks like it finally quit bleeding. You should go see your doctor, though. I bet it needs stitches.”
Another wave of nausea struck. Kaylee leaned forward, pulling her knees up so she could prop her arms there and rest her forehead on them. The gravel crunched, announcing a new arrival. Kaylee’s heart jumped. Had her attacker come back? She lifted her head to see an older woman—barely old enough to be called elderly—walking toward the group, arms loaded with grocery bags.
“Mama C!” the young boy yelled. “It’s about time you got back.”
The woman stopped in front of Kaylee as Blayne and the others relieved her of the bags. Kaylee greeted the newcomer with a grand mixture of street tacos and bile as she lost her battle with the nausea.
“Here,” Mama C held a well-used water bottle out to Kaylee, “take a couple of sips of this. Don’t overdo it.”
Kaylee tried not to show disgust on her face, but the prospect of drinking out of that bottle made her already-sick stomach turn with greater vigor. She shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
Mama C looked down at the bottle in her hand, then back at Kaylee. Her face softened in understanding and she handed the water to Blayne. “I’m afraid I don’t have any fresh water. That’s a luxury we can’t often afford here.” She smiled, her cracked lips parting to show surprisingly healthy teeth. She raised an eyebrow. “So, what in the world are you doing out here, young lady?”
Heat rushed to her face and Kaylee looked down at her hands. “I…I was looking for you,” she whispered.
“You were?” The older woman bent down closer to Kaylee. “Did you say you were looking for me?”
Kaylee nodded.
Squinting, Mama C stared at her until she looked up at her. “Do I know you?”
“No.” Kaylee sighed. This was not how she’d wanted this introduction to go. “I’m a college student at CU Denver. I heard about you, about what you’re doing here.”—she gestured to the teenagers, the grocery bags—“I was…I am hoping to interview you as part of a…a school project.”
“Hmmf.” Mama C frowned and walked away, returning to Kaylee’s side a moment later with an upside-down five-gallon bucket on which she sat, muttering, “I can’t sit on the ground like you young people. It isn’t exactly the sitting that’s hard, it’s the getting back up part.”
“Why do you want to interview her? What kind of ‘project’ are you doing?” Blayne scowled.
Kaylee swallowed and glanced back and forth between them. “I’m a student.”
“Yeah, you already said that,” Blayne said.
“Be nice, Blayne,” Mama C said. “I’m sure she means no harm.”
Kaylee fixed her gaze on the woman. “I want to interview you and maybe observe you for a while. For my master’s thesis.” Did these people even know what that was?
“I see.” Mama C leaned in closer. “What is your major?”
“Psychology.”
“And, what is the title of your thesis?”
Mama C, at least, appeared to know what a thesis was. “The working title is, Benevolence and Family-like Groups Among the Homeless.” She didn’t add the rest of the title—What Drives Even the Hopeless to Desire Family-like Relationships—afraid it would sound insulting to them. She might have to reword that a little.
The woman’s mouth tightened for the briefest of moments before relaxing into a neutral expression. “And you thought it would be a good idea to come down to this part of town by yourself, after dark no less?”
“Probably not my brightest idea, huh?” Kaylee shrugged. “This was only supposed to be a reconnaissance mission tonight—I was only planning on observing from a distance. I wasn’t even sure this was where you’d be. I’ve already scoped out several other…umm…areas.”
“Ha! Def not a bright idea.” The young boy stood by the fire eating a sandwich made hastily from the contents of one of the grocery bags. “I thought college students were supposed to be smart.”
Kaylee laid her pounding head back down on her folded arms, ignoring the barb.
“You okay?” Blayne asked.
“My head hurts,” she answered. And this wasn’t going the way she’d planned. She just wanted to get back to her apartment, take a shower, and go to bed.
“I bet it does,” he replied.
“Well,” Mama C said. “It’s late. And cold. I’m ready to nestle down into my sleeping bag for the night. You’ll have to come back around at a more decent time if you want to poke at my brain.”
That sounded like a cue to leave. She’d overstayed her dubious welcome. Kaylee lifted her head. “Yes, of course. Will you still be here over the next couple of days?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ve been here a while. It’s probably about time for some other group to come run us off.” She frowned, looking from Kaylee to Blayne and back again. “Especially after your little tussle tonight.”
Blayne shrugged, purposefully, it seemed, avoiding Kaylee’s gaze. “I couldn’t just let that guy hurt her.”
Mama C stood, wincing at the effort, and patted his arm. “I know you couldn’t. And I wouldn’t have expected you to.” She looked down at Kaylee. “How did you get here, dear?”
“I drove. My car is parked about a half-block away.”
Blayne raised his eyebrows. “Hopefully it’s still in one piece.” He reached a hand toward her. “Let’s see if you’re well enough to drive.”
Grasping his hand, she stood slowly, careful not to let his coat drop to the ground. A slight feeling of dizziness threatened, but not nearly as bad as before. She straightened up, removed her hand from his, and handed him his coat. “I’m okay. Much better. Thank you.” She patted her pockets, relieved to find that her keys were still tucked safely away in her jacket.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” Not waiting for an answer, he started walking in the direction of where she’d been attacked.
“You really don’t have to.” The tiny quaver in her voice gave her away. Fear tore at her insides at the thought of walking the short distance alone.
He slowed when he reached the area she’d been observing from. “Where’s your car from here?”
Kaylee pointed past two overflowing dumpsters where a small section of her rear bumper could be seen.
Shaking his head, Blayne muttered, “That’s the worst possible place you could have parked, college girl.”
Normally, that kind of assumption of her naivety would have riled her—and it kind of still did—but she just wanted to get to her car and get home where she could take a shower and go to bed.
“Did you at least have the sense to lock the doors?” He stopped and faced her a few yards from the dumpsters.
A tired sigh pushed through her pursed lips and she put a hand on her hip. “Of course, I did.” She pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket and put her thumb on the unlock button of the fob.
“Not yet.” Blayne put his hand ove
r hers to stop her from pushing it. “Let me make sure no one’s lurking around.”
He jogged to the back of her car and around to the far side where she could no longer see him. A moment later he reappeared around the other side of the dumpsters.
Kaylee raised an eyebrow at him as he approached.
“All clear,” he said. “It looks like your car is intact, too. You got lucky.”
She could hear the condescension in his voice—and this time she couldn’t ignore it. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know this area is dangerous. I was only planning to stay for a few minutes.”
He looked down. “I never said you were stupid. But you do seem a little unaware of the danger around here.” He glanced back up. “Anyway, you should be going.” He turned and walked around to the driver’s side of her car and stood, waiting for her to catch up.
With a roll of her eyes, she joined him and pushed the unlock button. She reached for the door handle and her hand collided with his. Pulling away, she let him open the door for her. She looked into his eyes as he gestured for her to get in. He was definitely not what she expected from a homeless man. His eyes were clear and intense. He was able-bodied as far as she could tell. Why was he here? A rush of heat flowed to her cheeks as she realized she’d been staring at him for much longer than necessity would dictate under the circumstances. She cleared her throat and averted her gaze. “Thank you. Have a good night.” That was a dumb thing to say, she thought as she hurriedly slid into her seat and slammed the door.
She started her car and risked one more glance at this strange young rescuer. His eyebrows were drawn into a scowl, but she could swear his lips twitched into the hint of a smile just before she backed up then sped away toward the freeway. She would have to try to get his story. Hopefully Mama C and her group would still be there when she came back.
Under the Viaduct Page 1