Coercion

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  Meredith spared me a glance. “Well, I don’t really know. I haven’t looked it up.”

  I didn’t blame her. Samantha had used one of Meredith’s poems to brainwash people. But Meredith had written another to remedy the problem. “Remember the police have the cure. I’m sure it’s been printed in the newspaper, maybe even shown on the news. Samantha won’t be able to abduct more people with your poem.”

  Meredith pressed her lips together and nodded. “If only her power ended when she ceased to be Karta.”

  If only. I exhaled.

  “Yeah, about that,” Beth said. “I’m the new Karta. Everyone should have to listen to me.”

  I gave a dry laugh. “It doesn’t exactly work that way.”

  Meredith pulled off the interstate to a gas station. “If you need to stretch or use the bathroom, do it now. We won’t be stopping again until we’re home.”

  I didn’t need to use the bathroom, but I did want to stretch. And my stomach was growling at me, even though we’d had a very filling breakfast of scones and orange juice at the sprite’s—no, what was the proper word for him? Kaukas. The kaukas had been very hospitable, providing food and beds for two days.

  I followed Beth into the gas station, and we stood next to each other as we perused the chips.

  “I’m almost as tall as you,” she said with a grin.

  “Shut up,” I drawled back, bumping her shoulder with mine. It was true. Only in eighth grade, and Beth had nearly caught me. We could probably pass for twins, standing next to each other like we were, with the same wavy brown hair and fair skin. The biggest difference between us was her brown eyes and my blue-green ones. She picked a bag and turned slightly, her eyes scanning the rows around us.

  And then she stiffened for half a second before her legs bent beneath her and she crumpled to the ground.

  “Beth!” I dropped beside her, panic firing through my veins. Had something gone wrong? Was this a lingering effect of the battle we’d fought two days ago, of Beth receiving the goddess powers?

  She looked up at me, tears glistening in her eyes. “Help me, Jayne.”

  “Help you what?” I had my phone out, ready to call 911.

  She closed it with her hand and pushed it away, then got to her feet. “To the car.”

  “Okay.” I obliged her, abandoning her would-be purchases and helping her outside.

  By the time we got to the car, she was walking on her own, though she still clutched my wrist. Meredith was just putting away the nozzle from the gasoline hose.

  “What happened? Is she okay?” Meredith hovered like a frightened bird.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, my tone short and tense with worry.

  “I’m fine.” Beth pulled free of me and ran a hand through her hair before taking a deep breath. “I think I just had my first vision.”

  I reared back, replaying in my mind the events in the convenience store. The way she’d looked around, the expression on her face right before she collapsed to the ground. “Did you?” I gasped. “What happened? Tell me about it!”

  “It was awful.” Her lip trembled, but she kept going. “It was that man behind one of the coolers. Did you see him?”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t noticed anyone except us.

  “I didn’t know that was going to happen. I just glanced at him, and when he looked at me—” Her voice choked up. “I saw him die. No, I didn’t see it, I felt it! I was him, and I was on a motorcycle when I hit a patch of ice and lost control. I was terrified. I couldn’t stop, and I knew—” Beth’s breathing was coming in hard, fast. “I knew I was going to die. And then I did.” Her hands shook as she grasped mine, the tears welling up in her eyes. “Is that what it’s like, Jayne? Is that what’s going to happen to me?”

  I squeezed her hands, my heart constricting for her. I knew she wasn’t asking if she was going to die in a motorcycle accident. She was asking if every vision was going to feel like she’d died. And I had no easy answer for her.

  “Yes, Beth. They’re all like that.”

  She closed her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whimpered.

  I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my chest. I wished I could tell her it would get easier, but it wouldn’t. Every time I had a vision, every time I saw how someone was going to die, it tore me up inside. I died over and over and over again.

  I pulled back, remembering the silver lining, the one ray of hope that saved me from going insane. “If you feel like he wasn’t supposed to die that way, you can petition Laima. You can change the outcome.”

  She looked at me with shining eyes, hopeful. “What should I feel if I’m supposed to change it?”

  I looked away, my own frustration over my inability to answer this question bubbling over. I still didn’t know. I didn’t feel something when I saw the visions, other than terror. Instead I used logic and tried to weigh the odds and decide whose life was more valuable than someone else’s. I didn’t know if I was being fair, even though that was my job as a goddess of fate.

  “I don’t have the answer to that. Maybe you’ll get better at this than I am. You have to judge. You have to decide. But remember, every time someone’s life is prolonged, the years are taken off someone else’s life. The balance must be maintained.”

  She didn’t say anything, but her eyes sort of glazed over. She muttered something to herself. I knew she was having second thoughts about taking on this role. “You’ve been doing this for years. If you don’t know, how am I supposed to?”

  “I’ve been having visions for years, yes, but I didn’t figure out I was a goddess until a few months ago. I’m still learning.”

  Meredith stood beside us, leaning against the car, obviously reluctant to intrude. She cleared her throat when we paused. “I’m all gassed up. Shall we get out of here?”

  I gave her a smile and climbed into the car. Beth got in behind me, still looking shaken. I turned around to face her, thinking of another question.

  “What did you smell before you had the vision?”

  “Cinnamon rolls. Just like Mom’s. That’s why I looked around.”

  I faced forward again. Cinnamon rolls. A better smell than lemons, but now she would never be able to eat another cinnamon roll without thinking of dying people.

  I never should’ve let her get involved in this.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Let’s go over the plan again,” I said as we got closer to home. It was my turn to drive, and I was taking my time, not anxious to get back and face a future certain to be fraught with danger. I tried to get Meredith to talk with me an hour earlier, but both she and Beth had fallen asleep. They didn’t seem to feel the same anxiety I did.

  But then, I had more to lose. My boyfriend’s soul was on the line.

  When Meredith had blinked her eyes and pushed upward in her seat, I gave her all of two minutes to come awake before speaking. Now she looked at me, apprehension and worry on her face.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “We need to get Trey out of the mental institution,” I said.

  Meredith nodded. “And then we have to get his powers back to him.”

  I enclosed my wrist with one hand, rubbing it gently. Trey had been sent to protect me, but Samantha and her minions stole his power. When I visited him, he indicated I was the key to getting it back, but I had no idea how I was supposed to do that. I hoped he knew.

  “And then we have to track Samantha down and free those souls,” I continued.

  That was it. That was our game plan. If the details seemed a little vague, Meredith didn’t comment. We really had no idea what we were doing. All we knew was that it had to be done.

  “Right. One thing at a time. How will we get Trey out?” she asked.

  I chewed on my lower lip. I’d already been considering this. “I might be able to get the police department to pull a few strings for me.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You think Lie
utenant Bailey is going to do anything for you after this weekend?”

  My friend in the police department knew more about my abilities than the average person. “Let’s hope so.”

  *~*

  When we finally arrived in Forked River, New Jersey, Meredith dropped me and Beth off and left in a hurry. I wasn’t sure if she was that anxious to get home or if she was avoiding a lecture from my mom.

  The front door was unlocked, and I opened it, letting us in.

  “Hello?” I called, waiting for my mom to appear.

  “Jayne! Beth!”

  My dad surprised me by stepping out of the living room and wrapping his arms around us, squeezing tight. I hadn’t expected him to be home, since he was working out of town and wasn’t due back for a few more days. But I welcomed the comfort of his embrace.

  “Dad!” I said. “What are you doing home?”

  He squeezed us tighter. “Are you serious, Jayne? My daughters disappear during a mass exodus of the tri-state area, and you think I’m just going to stay at work? I was already looking for a flight home before your mom called me.”

  The bedroom door swung open, and my mother suddenly appeared.

  “Girls!” she gasped out, and then she threw herself into the mass huddle we had going on. She sobbed, not even trying to hide her emotions as she held the four of us together. Then she pulled away, taking my and Beth’s hands and extricating us from my father.

  “I’m so glad—so glad you’re okay,” she blubbered as she pulled us over to the couch.

  She was about to ask us what happened, I knew it. But if I was going to lie, I needed to know what she already knew. So I beat her to it.

  “What happened, Mom? The stuff we found on the news was kind of crazy. What’s really going on?”

  She shook her head, swallowing hard, her normally confident self confused. “Hundreds of people disappeared the same time you did. I came out of my room and made dinner as usual, and then I called you girls. No one answered, but that wouldn’t be a first. I went into the den and the TV was on, broadcasting an emergency alert. I’ve never seen one like it. It wasn’t a weather alert, wasn’t an Amber alert or any of those usual ones. This one said to keep your family close because people were vanishing. As soon as I saw it, I got this pit in my stomach, I just knew you girls were gone. I combed through the house, I tried your cell phones, I tried your friends. I told the police, but I’m sure they were backlogged with so many disappearances.” She squeezed our hands. “I’m so glad you’re home. What do you remember?”

  At least she believed our story. It made sense, considering the circumstances. I took the lead. “I don’t remember anything. Nothing at all. We were at home, watching TV, and Meredith came over.”

  I saw my mom’s lip turn down at the mention of Meredith, and I crossed my fingers that this wasn’t another strike against my friend. “We were just, you know, talking, laughing. And then I woke up in a strange house somewhere else.”

  “Where?” My mom leaned forward, her hunger for answers reminding me of my journalist friends. “Were there other people with you?”

  I hesitated here. I had seen hundreds of other people during the battle with Samantha, but how much could I reveal without making the story tricky? I didn’t want to send the police on a wild goose chase after Samantha’s army. It was up to me to save them. So I shook my head. “I didn’t see anyone. There was a nice man there at the house. He said he found our car stalled in the middle of the street.” Partly true. “He said he fixed it and Meredith followed him back to his house. We don’t remember any of this, and when we woke up in the morning we just wanted to go home.”

  My mother’s fist closed tightly, her lips pressed together, and I saw the fear in her eyes. Something unusual was happening, something outside of our control. Something paranormal.

  She let out a slow breath. “I want to take you to the doctor and make sure you’re well.”

  “Mom, I don’t need a doctor. I need to talk to the police.”

  My mom held my gaze. “You have something that will help them?”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Maybe. I’ll at least tell them everything I know.” For that matter, I probably needed to call my boss.

  An hour later I sat in the Lacey Township Police Department, holding a warm mug between my hands as I conversed quietly with Lieutenant Bailey at his desk.

  “You know your mom called to report you as missing.”

  I bobbed my head.

  “But you weren’t missing, were you. You left to get to the bottom of the symbol.”

  He wasn’t asking, and my head shot up at the mention of the symbol found carved on the bodies of the dead. It flashed through my mind, static electricity raising the hairs on my flesh. “War,” I breathed, barely even aware of the word as it left my lips.

  Lieutenant Bailey leaned toward me. “What war?”

  I turned my gaze on him. He knew I had powers, but he didn’t know the whole truth about who I was or what I could do: change how people died. And now I needed him to know just enough to help me.

  “There was a battle. Everyone who received the poem was summoned to fight. The ones who answered the call were at the battle, the rest. . . .” My voice trailed off, and I cleared my throat. The rest died before they got there. “I went to fight for them. And I lost.”

  He frowned at me, his jaw tightening. “We have the cure. If we can get it to the people who were summoned, can we get them back?”

  I shook my head. “It’s too late for them.”

  His face paled. “Are they dead?”

  “No. But their souls are not in their bodies.”

  I could see him struggling to believe me, to cast aside his understanding of real life and put his faith in me, a girl who had already proved her unusual abilities over and over again. He couldn’t seem to make his reality coincide with mine, however, and instead he changed the subject.

  “So when is the next battle and how can we win it? Do you have a location? Where are the people being held?”

  Valiant questions. But wrong. “This isn’t a war for you to fight.” A strange tingling flooded the back of my neck, scooting upward through my scalp all the way to my hairline, and even my voice changed when I spoke. “This is a battle between the ancients. This is my fight.”

  He didn’t say a word when I finish speaking, and I drew back, almost embarrassed by the commanding tone I had taken. He studied his notepad, the pen passing back and forth between the thumbs and index fingers of both hands. Finally he spoke.

  “What part do you play in this?”

  I smiled. “Finally. The right question.” But I didn’t answer him. Instead, I leaned forward and said, “There is something you can do to help.”

  He tilted his head. “Help who?”

  “Help me. I’m one of the good guys.”

  “What do you need?” He stared at me strangely, almost resentfully, as if I were forcing him to do something against his will.

  Was I? Was I somehow exerting my will on him?

  But whatever it took, right? This war was more important than his free choice. I needed to use whatever measures necessary to ensure his cooperation.

  Wait, Jayne. My rational side caught up with my thoughts, and I startled, as if suddenly finding someone else in my head. I stood up and walked a few paces away from him, then took a deep breath to clear my thoughts. The stress was getting to me. Aaron’s absence was getting to me.

  Aaron. I turned back around and faced Lieutenant Bailey. Stepping closer, I did my very best to look earnest and pleading rather than commanding. “There is a boy in the mental institution nearby. He’s been wrongfully accused of a crime so that he would be out of the way during this war. I need him. I need his powers. I need you to get him out for me.”

  Lieutenant Bailey put down the pen. “There are others like you? With powers?”

  He was beginning to understand. “Yes. There are many others. And not all of them are good guys.”


  He pressed a hand to his forehead and then let it drop. “If I’m not able to free this boy, what happens?”

  “Then I can’t save all of those souls, and every single person who disappeared from New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland two days ago will die.”

  *~*

  Lieutenant Bailey made me no promises, and I went home unsettled but hopeful he would help me. I didn’t think I’d sleep that night, but sleep and I have always gotten along. Barely had I shut my eyes and I was out.

  Getting up for school the next day felt like a surreal experience.

  My mom almost didn’t let us go. She was terrified I would disappear again. Only after I pointed out how the mass exodus had ended did she agree to let us leave.

  Not that I was anxious to return. I had better things to do than hang out at school. But what could I do? Our plan was a skeletal outline at best.

  Mom wouldn’t let me take Beth to school. I think in the back of her mind, she thought if one of us disappeared, at least the other one wouldn’t.

  Even without needing to drop my sister off at the middle school, I somehow managed to run late. I pulled onto the street beside my school just moments before the tardy bell. To my surprise, I didn’t have any problems finding a parking spot in the senior lot. Past experience dictated that if I was late, I was subject to the sophomore gravel pit.

  Not today. A prickly feeling scattered across my shoulders. How many of my peers were missing? How many of them were dead?

  A few weeks ago when I started having visions of people committing suicide, I realized something was amiss in the world of the Fates. I had gotten used to the visions over the years, but after they showed me how someone would die, it was my chance to change that person’s death. Until my sister goddess decided to go on a power trip. She found a different way to alter people’s destinies.

  That flame of indignation flared up again in my chest, annoyance with Laima for showing up to help me fight Samantha and then bolting right after, giving me no answers and no further guidance. She left Meredith and Beth and me in the care of the sprite—no, the kaukas—to try and help us figure things out. Sure, he was friendlier and more talkative than she ever was, but I wanted to get my answers directly from her.