by JB Dutton
* * * * *
Elle parked her white SUV at Teterboro airport in front of a low-rise building with a sign above it saying Skyjet Aviation. To say I was apprehensive would be an understatement. I was sick to my stomach.
She strode inside and I followed. I wasn’t expecting somewhere like LaGuardia or Mitchell back home, but this didn’t even look like a terminal. It looked like a sort of luxury lobby, with tall, leafy plants, a stone-tiled floor and huge paintings hung from the ceiling. Puffy dark leather couches and chairs were artfully arranged in conspiratorial clusters. Three brass bellhop carts like the ones you see at 5-star hotels were lined up neatly near the entrance.
There was an actual red carpet leading from the swooshing glass doors to a mahogany reception desk. I could see some of the runway and a couple of small planes through a huge glass wall at the back of the terminal (or whatever VIPs called this room). It was the exact opposite of a regular airport where hundreds of travelers mill around and announcements constantly squawk over the PA. Skyjet’s terminal was empty. There wasn’t even anyone behind the reception desk.
Elle took stock of all this and said, “Her plane should be landing in five minutes. Let’s wait over here.”
She sat down stiffly on one of the comfy-looking seats. It bothered me that no one was around. If this was a trap, it was perfectly set up. I sat down on the chair opposite her and took out my phone. As I tapped away at Angry Birds, I thought about how wealthy the Embodied must be. If you’ve been around for thousands of years you probably own your own bank. They’d have so much cash that bribing an airport receptionist to step away from her post for an hour would be a breeze.
Then a message from Cruz popped up: Wanna chill 2gether in times square 4 yr 1st nyc new years eve?
Seeing those words made me so happy. Was it because he wanted to see me or because they were my only connection to reality in the nightmare I found myself in? The last few days had been so effed-up I hadn’t realized that it was December 31st.
I smiled to myself. Okay, stop overthinking, Kari – the message is cute. And you know what, even though Cruz would hate to be labeled cute, he kinda is. And I like how he makes me feel. I was stressing myself about this whole Mom thing and now I’m all relaxed and normal...
I glanced over at Elle. She was elegant, as always, but somehow on edge, her hands intertwined in that typical Embodied pose. I’d figured out that it had something to do with how they communicated with each other... Noon had explained that they had to be in close proximity to a human to be able to influence their behavior. Maybe this was the same thing. Maybe their embodied forms had to link up physically to focus their “telepathic” energy?
She was frozen, concentrating. I noticed that every time she blinked she kept her eyes closed far longer than any normal human would. My eyes flicked down to Cruz’s message on my phone, then back up at Elle.
“She’s here,” she announced, and stood up abruptly.
Thoughts of Cruz evaporated. The butterflies came rushing back. I looked around at the portion of the runway that was visible beyond the glass. Nothing had changed. I was suspicious.
“How do you know?”
Her catwalk composure disintegrated. She looked totally pissed at my question, then blinked another long blink and pulled herself together.
“You didn’t hear the plane?”
“No.”
I really didn’t. And it was deathly quiet in the terminal. Did the Embodied have super hearing? Why would they? Weren’t they just unstable genetic copies of real-life creatures?
Elle turned her back on me, facing the runway. I got up too.
“Maybe Mom’s phone is already on. I’ll try calling her.”
“There’s no need. She’ll be here any second,” she countered.
I moved beside her.
“Really? It takes a few minutes for a plane to taxi and get the steps in position.”
She watched as I dialed Mom’s number. It rang and rang, then her message kicked in. I hung up. Elle was following my every move with her laser-like gaze.
“See?” she said, “It’s still on airplane mode.”
I walked slowly toward the tinted glass and peered into the low winter sun, trying to make out any kind of movement in the airport.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, as much to myself as to Elle. Then I realized that it was a really good question. “Like, seriously – where is everyone?”
But Elle wasn’t listening. She was standing like a statue with her eyes closed and her hands entwined.
I felt kinda dizzy. Bizarre...
I tried to gather my thoughts. I heard the automatic doors sliding open behind me. I spun around and my heart jumped as I saw Mom’s figure strolling into view on the tarmac outside.
I squinted at her backlit form. Could it really be her? I was desperately searching for clues in her movements, her hair. I so wanted it to be her. I longed to look into her eyes and bathe in her smile. But I couldn’t trust the Embodied and I had to repress my longing.
Elle hung back slightly as I walked past the empty reception desk. Mom was grinning at me. It certainly looked like her. Would my distrust disappoint her if all this was actually real?
“Hi pumpkin!” she squealed, and grabbed both my arms.
I had tears in my eyes. I soooo wanted to believe. Then I realized that something was off about the whole situation.
“Where’s Bob? Where are your bags?” I asked her.
She planted a big kiss on my forehead. This was something Mom never did.
“Oh, when you fly in a private jet, you don’t have to worry about carrying your luggage.”
“Uh-huh. Cool,” I answered, my voice faltering.
“Bob is getting the limo. I have so much to tell you about the trip. I’ve had an amazing time. Bob is wonderful.”
I was pretty sure that those were the exact same words she had used with me on Skype.
I motioned toward Elle. “Mom, this is Elle. She drove me here.”
“Hi – pleased to meet you,” said Mom
The two women shook hands. With both hands. There it was again – the greeting I’d seen Noon and Silas use on my first day at school, then Hannah and Miriam outside the Warrington. I knew now that it was the greeting only two Embodied used when they met. Now the butterflies in my stomach were made of lead.
I quickly looked down at my phone and typed help with one hand in reply to Cruz’s message. I pressed send and slipped the phone back into my jacket pocket, hoping they hadn’t noticed.
Mom flung her arms open. “I missed you so much! Give me a big hug.”
Then everything happened so fast. Mom put her arms around me just as I noticed Aranara emerging from a corridor, marching purposefully toward us.
“You’re not my mother!” I screamed, struggling to free myself. “Who are you?”
She grunted and held me tighter. Then came the reply that made my blood run cold.
“You’re right. I’m Bob. Pumpkin.”
Aranara had something in her hand. Freaking out, I turned to Elle just as she also put her arms around me, linking them with Mom’s/Bob’s. My mental resistance got weaker as they amplified their power.
“Elle?” I pleaded.
Her voice was now harsh, almost masculine. “Elle is in Manhattan. My name is Dragard.”
Aranara moved behind me holding a hypodermic needle. I wanted to hit out at her, but I was trapped between the two Embodied and barely able to think clearly. A deafening sound like a thundering waterfall filled my head. I stamped on their feet, but, like with my head-butt into Cilic’s face, it was totally useless. And this time I was held too tightly between them to be able to strike either of their solar plexuses.
I called out. “HELP!”
I felt a sting in my neck and everything went black.
