Aftermath

by Sandy Goldsworthy

  Her thoughts ran through their courtship and marriage. Initially, he loved her and treated her like a princess. Once she became pregnant, his worship for her changed. He began beating her. He found other women and wouldn’t come home many nights. She was alone and helpless.

  Ben, I didn’t know about our existence. I didn’t realize we had life contracts. I only knew I couldn’t take it anymore.

  Reliving her story, she felt the pain from the beatings she endured, her heart heavy.

  The night I died, I fought back. He beat me, and I shot him. When I transitioned, I learned he was immortal. I didn’t realize that. I mean, how would I know?

  You wouldn’t.

  We both ended up back in our world. I went to rehab, but you know how the good ol’ boys’ network worked. Especially back then. He was given a slap on the wrist—if that—and went back undercover. They didn’t realize he was a double agent. It took another lifetime for them to figure it out.

  I didn’t understand until she explained that after rehab, she took a new life contract. She met Victor again, in London, in 1831. He was charming, they fell in love, and the story ended as it did the first time, with her death a year later.

  After that, he disappeared, and I went into hiding.

  I hesitated. The numbers didn’t add up. “Molly, Jack the Ripper was late 1800s, not earlier in the century.”

  She looked down.

  “That wasn’t the last time you met him, was it?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I trained some… but honestly, I wasn’t allowed in the field. I lived in fear and wanted to forget.”

  “So you’re saying you took a new life contract, to forget Victor?”

  “Yes. I was stupid. I know. I thought he forgot about me. So I left.”

  So you had three life contracts, each meeting up with Victor?

  She nodded. And he vowed to—

  “To always find you.” I finished the words she was thinking.

  Chapter 40

  Emma's Story

  “Thank God it’s Friday,” I said, opening my locker after class.

  “I know,” Claire answered. “I have a quiz on Monday, so I’ll probably end up studying all weekend.” She rolled her eyes, as she put her books on the top shelf of her locker.

  “Me too.” Trying to catch up on missed Spanish and calculus assignments took hours each night, and I still wasn’t caught up.

  “I’m excited for tonight, though,” Claire said. Even though I only knew her for a few days, I felt she was genuine, not like some girls I knew back in Highland Park, especially Aimee Wilkinson, who was really just a bitch. Melissa texted me a dozen times to give me updates on Matt since we broke up. She was right when she predicted Matt would ask Aimee to the homecoming dance. He didn’t tell me that, of course. In his last message to me, he just asked about school. It was the only text I received from him all week.

  I glanced in the mirror hanging on the inside of my locker door and freshened up my lip gloss.

  “You’re going, right? To the party after the game?” She flashed me a huge grin that lit up her eyes, too. Claire had a narrow face and huge smile that was always welcoming. I found myself wondering if she ever got mad or nasty like Aimee.

  “Yeah, I’m going. Sounds like fun,” I said, shutting my locker door. Claire was excited when Hannah invited us in art class the day before. I suspected Hannah’s mom encouraged her to invite me. Going to a party with a crowd of people I didn’t know made me nervous. At least Claire would be there.

  “Good. I can’t wait!” Her smile turned flat when she looked behind me. She seemed to fidget, glancing away, and then back to the busy hall out of the corner of her eye.

  I turned to follow her glare and realized she was staring at Ben. I was suddenly grateful for checking my hair. I spent the better part of every morning critically selecting my clothes for the day, since Ben was in a couple of my classes. I wasn’t sure why I bothered. He didn’t seem to notice me, even when I jogged the track near his practice after school.

  “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back tonight,” Ben said as he approached us, his eyes intently focused on Claire.

  Great. The only guy that I was interested in had a thing for one of the few friends I made.

  Claire nodded in response to Ben. Her eyes were wide and her face pale. She definitely looked upset. They couldn’t be dating. Could they? I thought he was with the dark-haired girl from the beach.

  “Hey.” Ben turned to me. Our eyes met briefly before he directed his attention back to Claire.

  “If I’m back in time, I’ll pick you up from school. Otherwise, I’ll meet you later.” Ben’s tone was firm and direct, like he was giving her orders. I wondered if he was always like that.

  Could they be just friends?

  “Yeah, I’ll find a ride if you’re not back,” she said in a mumble I almost didn’t hear.

  “You could call Marty, otherwise,” he added with a slight glance in my direction. She nodded and, after he left, Claire’s smile returned.

  As we walked to class, a ton of questions came to mind, but none I felt comfortable asking, not yet at least. Instead, we made small talk until we parted ways, and I took my seat in front of Lucas in history class.

  He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Going to the game tonight?”

  “Yup,” I said, turning sideways in my chair. “Are you?”

  He chuckled and looked away briefly. For some reason, I found him cute. Not stunning like Ben, but easygoing and flirtable. He tapped his pen on his desk when our eyes met. “Yeah. I’ll be at the game,” he answered with an air of confidence, or arrogance. I couldn’t tell.

  “Maybe I’ll see you there, then,” I answered with a smile, as the bell rang and Mr. Dunn began speaking. Class was boring, as usual. Unlike the two days before, Lucas didn’t say anything to me, or pass notes to anyone else nearby. I wondered if he was asleep during the dull lecture, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around in my chair and check. When I pivoted my body to look left, I only saw the empty chair where the pretty brunette sat the day before; the girl I saw Ben with at the beach.

  I still wondered about Ben and whether he had multiple girlfriends. The brunette seemed awfully friendly that day, but Claire seemed angry, like a couple having a fight. I guess it was worthless worrying about any of it. Ben barely noticed me and never had a conversation with me after that first day at the track.

  When the bell rang, Lucas followed me into the hall. Even though we weren’t walking together, we were headed in the same direction, to the same class. He ended up beside me within a few strides. I glanced at him, and he smiled. We walked side by side down the stairs and into the next corridor. He kept pace with me, though he clearly could have gone faster. He acknowledged people we passed, but he said nothing to me. From an outsider’s viewpoint, it probably looked like we were together.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but it definitely made strangers take a second look.

  Chapter 41

  Ben's Story

  Molly and I took the rest of the day off.

  Marty, my so-called aunt, notified the school that I had a doctor’s appointment and Ava Preston, Molly’s mother, excused her absence.

  Claire stayed behind. She was uncomfortable at the mention of Victor’s name and reputation, not to mention the meeting was classified and above her security clearance.

  Pete Jorgenson met Molly and me at the Hub. Files of Victor’s past were downloaded quickly, as we walked the bridge back into our world for the meeting with Commander E. What was known of Victor’s transgressions during the century he went off grid was frightening.

  Victor was thought to have been behind many crimes, though most agents were oblivious to his active existence. A separate division was put in place when Victor went rogue. It was a small group that consisted of home-based agents that monitored thousands of thoughts and tips that surfaced, field agents wh
o were sent in to investigate tips worthy of our time, and other co-ops that investigated peculiar behavioral patterns in geographical regions.

  Most of the division’s staff never met Victor, or even got close, and none had combat experience. For the most part, they were all glorified sleepers, which is why Molly and I were called in.

  Commander E was waiting for us in the boardroom when we arrived. His eyes were somber. He gave a weak smile when he shook my hand. “Good to see you,” he said. He lowered his shield enough for me to feel his appreciation for my attendance. As soon as his emotions were released, however, he snapped the barrier shut and shielded his thoughts again.

  The room was full of officers, representing every division within our organization. Molly and I took seats across from the investigator that got the tip and the field agent that interviewed the hybrid. They were the only agents in the room with a rank less than ours.

  Commander E recapped the early years of Victor Nicklas’ existence. “He was a prodigy back in the late 1600s,” he said. “His work ethic and talent was exceptional. His involvement among humans was the foundation for our agency’s undercover divisions today. He was the most decorated agent of his time and called upon for many, if not all, combat situations.”

  Victor’s history sounded like the speech at a Hall of Fame award ceremony, not a criminal briefing. At some point, however, things changed, and Victor went rogue. His infractions were the foundation for advanced training, higher credential requirements amongst our staff, and new divisions to monitor and track all immortals authorized for earthly presence.

  No agent could visit earth or exist in human form without a handler and without the tethering mechanisms we currently had. It was all I ever knew. Being mentally connected to Jorgenson whenever I was on earth was expected. It didn’t bother me, but I wasn’t doing anything against policy, either.

  “Victor is cunning, deceitful, and very intelligent,” Commander E said. “And, it would not surprise me if many of our undercover agents have encountered him in one or more of his chameleon-like disguises. He has adapted to the world for generations without discovery. While we have tethered our operatives to their handlers and monitored their activities, we are unable to penetrate the barriers he has in place.”

  It was known that Victor created the first hybrid. It was a tactic used back in the early 1700s, to expand our presence with the use of mortals at a time when our immortal force was limited. Our bureau was small. Agents were sent undercover for shorter periods of time, moving from one mission to another, sometimes leaving assignments prematurely. It was Victor’s concept to create hybrids that would aid operatives during these lapses.

  Hybrids were common back then. Field agents converted dying humans into a half-human, half-immortal beings with a simple second chance at life. Humans at the end of their life contract, literally on their deathbeds, were offered recovery for the exchange of loyalty and service. Good agents used the hybrid for the betterment of the world, but bad agents used them as slaves, creating an army.

  A hybrid should have existed for months or a year at best. Unfortunately, many lingered for decades in this in-between period where their soul was no longer connected to their human body, yet not allowed to enter our world either.

  “It was a time in our bureau’s history that we regret,” Commander E continued. “Hybrids grew in numbers, with the average field agent having ten or more at a time. It reached the point that hybrids were created unnecessarily and not released for transition timely. When our top agents were known to have hundreds of hybrids on staff at a time, we knew policies had to change.”

  Commander E explained that hybrids were banned in 1832. Several top agents were reluctant to the policy reform and kept hybrids on the side. Field agents were virtually untraceable and their indiscretions unknown. Internal Affairs officers were dispatched undercover, and agents not conforming to the new policy were terminated.

  Victor Nicklas was one that slipped away, going off grid in 1842.

  By this point in his career, Victor was thought to have been involved in hundreds of crimes, including robbery, rape, and murder. Commander E glanced at Molly, and I felt the sympathy he passed along to her.

  “It took decades to track down the hybrids Victor and other agents created while in service. We were confident we had them all by early 1901,” Commander E said. “But then, they surfaced again. Every few decades a hybrid or two was discovered. Until now.”

  An abundance of hybrids began to appear in recent years, some on the West Coast, others in the Midwest—the most recent being the hybrid that chanted Victor’s name in a Chicago-area hospital earlier that morning.

  When Commander E finished, an officer asked the whereabouts of the hybrid discovered.

  “We have him in protective custody,” Commander E answered.

  “Wouldn’t Victor realize that, if he is tethered to the hybrid?” another officer questioned.

  “The hybrid was under the influence of narcotics at the time of his disclosure. Our agents stepped in and provided a protective shield so the hybrid is considered secure at this time.”

  “And if he isn’t?” the officer asked. “What is your back-up plan?”

  Commander E didn’t need to say anything.

  Molly and I already knew she would be used as bait.

  Chapter 42

  Emma's Story

  “Touch-dooowwwnnn!” the announcer’s voice sang over the loudspeaker.

  Claire and I were on our feet, cheering with the rest of the students, sandwiched between a couple of girls I met at soccer and some of Drew’s friends.

  The crowd roared with enthusiasm, as Hannah and the cheerleaders led us in a chant. The base from the band’s drums thumped, and the bleachers pulsed with its rhythm.

  “Westport takes the lead with a catch by number forty-two, Crandon,” the announcer continued.

  Did he say Crandon? Number forty-two was Neal’s son? I glanced at Claire, but she didn’t notice my look, giving Drew a high five instead. I strained to see number forty-two, to get a glimpse of what Neal’s son looked like, but between the helmet and shoulder pads, it was pointless. He resembled every other player on the field.

  Three minutes later, the football game was over, and Westport won 21-14 against its rival, Riverside. As planned, Hannah drove Claire, a Hannah-look-alike named Courtney, and me to Drew’s party. Like the first day at my new school, I was nervous. Everyone I met so far was nice enough, but going to a house party brought about a different set of concerns.

  Drew handed each of us a small, plastic cup as soon as we arrived. Courtney and Hannah toasted each other and drank it before I could guess what the red concoction was.

  It wasn’t that I never drank. I tried beer. Once. I just didn’t like it.

  “Mmm, it’s good,” Courtney said and licked her lips.

  “Yeah, you’ll like it,” Hannah added, staring at the untouched shot in my hand. “Go on.”

  I was suddenly warm, feeling like all eyes were on me. I could barely hear the music over the sound of my pounding heart. Claire nudged my arm, distracting me from the overwhelming peer pressure I felt.

  “I’ll try it, if you do. Can’t be all that bad, right?” Her voice was low, almost like a whisper.

  “Um, yeah,” I mumbled, unsure of what it even was. I wouldn’t have thought twice about saying no back home. Here, I just wanted to fit in.

  “Hey, Drew. What’s in this, anyway?” Claire asked, smiling at him. She waited for an answer with one hand holding up the shot cup, and the other on her hip.

  Drew moved closer, stepping in between us, a smirk plastered on his face. “Now—now, ladies. Do you really think I’d serve you anything but the very best?” He put his hand on Claire’s back, as he glanced at me and then focused on her. She seemed flattered but asked again what was in the drink. “It’s just red gelatin and a splash of vodka. If you want more, the bottle’s floatin’ around, somewhere.” His tone was low
and soft. Even though I was nervous, I drank it down.

  Once Claire realized I finished mine, so did she.

  “Not bad, huh?” I whispered, feeling relieved that was over. She nodded.

  “There’s a cooler filled with beer on the porch. Lemonades in the fridge and some bottles of stuff in the kitchen. Help yourselves,” Drew said, heading to the door when TJ and Lucas walked in with a group of guys I didn’t know.

  “I could use a water,” Claire said.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  We chatted with people as we worked our way through the house. Claire seemed to know almost everyone and eagerly introduced me. I knew I’d never remember their names, but it was nice to feel included.

  An hour later, the house was packed. Guys chugged liquor from the bottle, passing it around and cheering each other on. When Trent pulled out a mirror, setting up a couple lines of cocaine, and someone else lit up a joint, I wasn’t comfortable and looked for a way out.

  Chapter 43

  Ben's Story

  The quietest section of Lake Bell was the inlet on the southwestern end.

  Three houses were neatly tucked amongst the thick, dense trees. The Crandon family home, empty since Neal’s dad moved to an assisted living center, was last on the dead-end road. The home beside it was vacant. It was where I grew up and came to visit, even years after my mother transitioned.

  The house at the mouth of the channel was a rental ever since I could remember. It had the most waterfront, but the least amount of acreage. It was low, flat, and often flooded, but that was decades ago. Lake levels in recent years weren’t as high as back in my day. Nonetheless, the property came cheap.

  Drew and his mom were its current tenants. She was a workaholic single mom, a nurse who accepted double shifts at the hospital in Westport to make ends meet. It gave Drew plenty of unparented time for socializing.

  That gave Drew the reputation most parents despised.

  I stood on the wraparound porch. The water was calm and peaceful at this time of night. The moon shone bright, reflecting on the water’s surface. Muffled music could be heard out here, but with no occupied homes in the vicinity, there was likely no chance Drew’s underage party would get busted by the cops.