Weaver
Page 14
And now, a sneak preview of The Void, Book 2 of The Weaver Saga!
Oh God, that wasn't string hanging over the side of the dumpster. It was hair. Which meant that the lump it was attached to had to be --
The cardboard soda cup dropped from Alex's hand. She barely heard the crash as it shattered to the ground, spilling its contents across the sidewalk. She felt every thought empty from her mind as she took off toward the dumpster at a run. When she reached it, she saw that her fear had been right -- it was, indeed, a body lying atop the trash. A woman, young -- she looked only a few years older than Alex herself -- with flowing, curly brown hair. Her skin was pale, and bloodshot green eyes stared blankly upward.
Alex drew a sudden breath. She knew this person. What was her name?
Wait, no, I don't know her. I've never seen her before in my life.
And yet, as she looked down at the young woman's body, she couldn't shake the memories. Memories of watching the dead woman walk past her, and admiring her hair -- a little part of Alex had even envied it. Memories of the woman waving at her. They'd even talked, once, about Professor Carter's class.
But I haven't talked to her. I know I haven't. Where do these memories come from?
It was a vision. It had to be. That was why there were no bruises on the body. Why there was no blood. Having your soul sucked out didn't leave those things. The girl had been killed by a Xorda. Was going to be killed by a Xorda.
But how did Alex know her?
Before she could give it much thought, a shadow fell over her. A blob-shaped shadow. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she watched the shadow creep over the body, covering the dead woman's torso.
It was a person. A person coming closer.
Alex whirled, throwing up her arms in a defensive stance --
--
Monday, 4:40 a.m.
"Alex? Alex? Alex??"
Her father's voice cut through the fog of sleep around Alex's mind. Her eyes opened, and James Cronlord's face materialized in front of them. "Dad," she said, feeling as if she were speaking around a mouthful of cotton. "What --"
"You were screaming," James said. As Alex came fully awake, she realized that her father looked almost overcome with worry. "And shaking."
"Oh." She felt cold moisture on her forehead, and reached up with her right hand to wipe her brow. When she lowered her hand, the fingertips were covered in sweat, which glistened in the pale moonlight filtering in through the curtains. Sweat. Moonlight.
"What time is it?" she asked, choking the words out around the dryness in her throat.
"Early," said James. "I don't even think it's five a.m. yet. I'm guessing that was a vision?"
Alex nodded, weighing whether she had the energy to get herself a glass of water. She'd been asleep for almost seven hours, but she felt as though she'd just run a several-mile marathon. The kitchen of the small apartment Alex shared with her father felt very far away.
Alex could see compassion in James' eyes, and he patted her knee. "What'd you see?"
"A corpse." Alex shivered involuntarily at the memory of the vacant, staring green eyes, the pale skin, and the unflinching expression. She hugged her arms to her chest.
"Just a corpse?"
"Yeah, Dad, just a corpse. No big deal. Next time I'll dream about going outside naked like normal people."
"I didn't mean it like that, sweetie. I just -- I thought your visions showed you Xorda attacks, not dead bodies."
Alex frowned. "Usually they do," she said, her mind racing, "but I didn't see a Xorda anywhere in this one. Just the body, and me. But it was weird -- it was like I knew the dead girl, but ... I've never met her before."
James' brow furrowed. "Were you seeing the vision through someone else's eyes? That's happened before, right -- with Agent McBain and her partner?" Alex saw a shadow cross her father's face at the mention of Moira.
For the moment, though, she decided not to pursue the subject. "I ... don't think so. It felt like I was in my own head this time."
James nodded. "Maybe it's someone you don't remember meeting? Or someone you're going to meet, between now and the attack? Do you know how far in the future it was?"
"No ... no, I'm sorry, I don't."
"All right," said James. Alex envied how he could keep himself calm. She was nearly frantic. "Let's work backwards. Any idea where you found the body? If we have a location to start from, maybe we can find the victim and warn her. Or at least keep an eye on her."
Alex closed her eyes, concentrating furiously for several seconds before finally giving up. "No." She swallowed repeatedly, trying to force saliva into her mouth, but none came. Finally, she stood up, shaking off her covers. Fighting an initial wave of dizziness, she padded toward the kitchen.
"Where are you going?"
"For water," said Alex. She turned, opened her mouth wide, and pointed inside with a finger. "It's a desert in there."
James chuckled, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. Alex walked -- shambled, really -- toward the kitchen, mindlessly reaching for the cabinet with the cups. She removed one, filled it with water from the fridge, and chugged an entire glass in seconds. The ice-cold liquid flowing through her mouth and down her throat felt heavenly.
"So, today's the big day, huh?"
Alex didn't turn to face her father. "Yeah," she said, trying to sound unconcerned.
"Scared?"
"Nah." Yes, yes, God YES.
"Really?"
His tone cut through her bravado, and she turned, making no more effort to hide her apprehension. "Okay, yes, I'm terrified. It's like the worst test I ever took at school, times about a bajillion." She felt a scowl come over her lips. "At least there if I got a right answer, the teachers gave me points for it. Here, when I give the right answer, they'll probably call the mental hospital ..."
James gave her a sympathetic smile. "You'll be fine. Besides, even if they send you back to school -- would that really be so bad?"
"Yes," said Alex, before she even realized she was speaking.
Her father raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Alex thought about it, and was startled to realize how alien school seemed to her, as if it were a strange foreign country whose language she didn't speak. I was just there a few weeks ago ....
"Alex?"
"I just ... I don't know what I'd say to any of them anymore. The biggest worry most of them have is getting enough community service hours to impress whatever college they want to go to. What would they know about breaking into genetics labs and finding dead bodies in your sleep?"
Her father's face took on an odd expression at those words.
"Dad ... what?"
"Nothing," said James. To Alex, his tone sounded forced. "You think you'll sleep any more?"
"Doubt it."
"Then come on. Let's figure out what you're gonna wear for your big interview."