Plagued: Book 1

by Eden Crowne

  “They're just frightened.” Hugo met her eyes with his clear blue ones, his brows drawn together.

  “And we're not?”

  “You believe in your government, don't you.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “What the hell? Okay. Yes, I do. Chaos is not the natural human condition and government imposes order.”

  “Sounds like the Party Line.”

  “That doesn't make it any less true. Humans want order. Civilization is our natural evolution. Or should be. I'm all for supporting that.”

  “No matter the cost?”

  “What cost, Hugo? You throw these little darts at me all three times we've been together. Negatives, my country, the bubble we live in. What is it you're trying to make me realize? Who do you want me to be?”

  He pulled her up out of her chair and into the stacks. Surprised, she followed. Out of sight of the other students, he put one hand around the back of her neck and folded her into an embrace, placing his lips on hers before she even realized what was happening. This was her first real boy-girl kiss. Given the way he expertly turned his head to meet hers, not his. One hand reached up to caress her hair as the other cupped her chin. His fingers stroked her skin, lingering on her cheek.

  Sky's whole body went hot and she seemed terribly tense yet incredibly relaxed all at the same time and all in the same places. He tasted as wonderful as he smelled. Strong and healthy. And where their lips met, tiny fireworks of sensation started shooting up and out on a continuous loop.

  He broke off almost with a gasp, his lips whispering in her ear, “I didn't want to like you. I don't want to like you. My world is so complicated. Yet I can't help myself. You feel it, too, don't you? Tell me that you do. You have to.”

  Everything about being this close to him was compelling, unreasonably so. She wanted to drink him in, hold him tighter, kiss him harder, her fingers itched to touch his skin. Without even noticing, her hands had worked their way under his shirt and were roving over the small of his back just above the waistband of his jeans.

  “I feel it, Hugo,” she whispered. “I feel it.”

  “Chemicals attract. Whether by accident or design. Our pheromones call out to one another and we cannot resist that siren song.”

  That made her smile, regain a little of her equilibrium.“You talk like Mr. Spock.”

  “Who is that?” he was nuzzling her hair.

  “Star Trek. We are obsessed with Star Trek in the Bay Area. For generations. He's a super science alien.”

  “No one has ever called me that before,” and he kissed her again.

  Someone cleared their throat loudly. They broke away to see Mrs. Gutierrez tapping her foot at the end of the aisle and glaring over her glasses at them. She looked exactly what she was, an old school librarian right down to tweed suits and bifocals on a chain around her neck. She was in her eighties but with the enhanced vigor the vaccine gave all Negatives, she had the health and energy of a woman twenty years younger.

  “Take it outside, kids. The library is about theoretical studies, not a laboratory for biology experiments.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Sky ran back to the desk, downloaded her work onto a flash drive and signed off. Hugo slowly joined her, tapping out a text before slipping the phone into his jeans, packing up his tablet, and taking her hand.

  “Are you mad? About what I said?”

  “Don't be nuts. I like you, too.”

  “I know. The part about being against my better judgement.”

  She cocked her head to one side, looking carefully at him. “I'm not sure I know what you meant.”

  He waved one hand in the air. “You're right. That's not important.”

  They walked out of the library into the main hall.

  “Remember you said you'd help me decorate for Halloween? Would you like to do that this afternoon? I've actually got the car and some money from my father. We could stop by that superstore with the bulls eye on it and pick some things up.”

  Sky was jumping with excitement inside. Then she remembered the angry expression on his mother's face. “Is your mom going to be there?”

  He gave her a shocked look. “Good God, no. She doesn't live with us. In fact I would appreciate it if you did not mention her, should we see my father. Could you do that?”

  “Sure,” she said easily. Sky was not a child. She knew marriage was difficult.

  He hooked arms with her. “Shall we go, then?”

  She practically skipped along next to him out the doors and to the parking area.

  Hugo's car was a shiny black BMW in beautiful condition. No new cars had been mass produced for almost two decades. Despite that, America had no shortage of automobiles. Especially since so many were left abandoned. Just like under the Land Rights Act, cars could also be claimed. New owners needed a valid driver's license, pay the registration, and the car was theirs. Auto mechanics were in huge demand to keep older cars running.

  Hugo slid behind the wheel and the car started up with a purring growl. “Direct me, Pathfinder, to the superstore.”

  Sky laughed. An hour, a soft pretzel, and two sodas later, the two of them unloaded Halloween pumpkins, banners and other assorted goodies plus several long strands of British and American flag streamers from the trunk.

  “You know we celebrate Halloween in England, too.”

  “I did not know that.” Sky set several bags on Hugo's front porch and went back for another load.

  “It was sort of a reverse import. You American's were having so much fun with the holiday we got jealous. Alright, what do we do first?”

  “Extension cords and unpack the batteries. Oh, and we need duct tape or something to keep the flag streamers up.”

  The porch was the perfect place to decorate. They had found six big light-up pumpkins with different expressions and a LED black cat wearing a green witch's hat. Sky declared the cat had a back story. It's owner named the beast Pinkle Purr, Sky said, and the cat turned to black magic in revenge. That made Hugo laugh and he kept chuckling over the name Pinkle Purr under his breath.

  They wound orange and black lights and the flag streamers around the columns and trailing down from the porch overhang. Hugo had picked out a life-size witch decoration for the front yard. She was cute, rather than scary, standing beside a broom holding a wand.

  Dusk was closing in and they switched on all the lights. The porch and the yard glowed.

  Hugo applauded. “This looks magnificent. I couldn't have done it without you.” He picked her up and whirled her around, kissing her first on the cheek and then, after setting her down, on the mouth.

  The kiss lingered, Hugo gently wrapping his hands around her neck again, this time stroking her jaw with his thumbs. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach him. She felt dizzy in his embrace. Touching him; tasting him. Almost overwhelmed. It wasn't sensation so much as a bombing run of emotions. Fear. Pleasure. Confusion. Like being in battle. Except for the pleasure part.

  He broke off abruptly, pulling his lips away from hers. She didn't want him to stop. Not yet. Not until she figured out which emotion to focus on. Hopefully, pleasure. Sky instinctively leaned closer to him, seeking his touch. He took a step back. He was staring at something behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw the man from the hospital ER. Hugo's father, standing in the driveway with a skinny ten-speed bike.

  “Dad. Hello. Hi.” He moved a little further away. “This is Sky. You saw her very briefly at the hospital the other day. Sky, my father, Philip St. James. Sir, I'm sure you will be very happy to meet my new friend.”

  Swallowing some of the emotions still lodged in her throat, she walked over, holding out her hand. The stern, narrow-eyed look Hugo's dad gave her did not seem like he was happy to meet her at all.

  His face slowly changed at her approach, from angry to surprised. “What is your last name?” he asked, his deep voice rolling over the words.

  “Christensen, sir. Sky Christensen”

  “Christensen?” he
asked, putting extra emphasis on her last name.

  “Yes sir.”

  He stepped over to take her hand, covering it with both of his. Hugo's father had a dimpled smile very much like his son's. “How do you do, Sky. It's so very nice to see you again and in better circumstances.” Still holding her hand, he stared at her searchingly. Not in a creepy way. Almost as though he knew her and was so pleased to see her again.

  “Father,” Hugo moved to join them.

  The elder St. James let go of her hand and straightened up.

  Hugo indicated the decorations with a flourish.

  “I see them, Hugo. Very appropriate. We have you to thank for this transformation I assume.”

  “Happy Halloween!” She gave him a thumbs up.

  “Happy Halloween indeed.” He beamed at them both, looking very pleased. “We can now hold our heads high in the neighborhood. Hugo, have you invited your friend for dinner?”

  Hugo glanced at Sky. “Not yet, sir.”

  “Then do so at once young man. What will she think of your manners?”

  “Miss Christensen,” Hugo executed a formal bow. “May we have the pleasure of your company for dinner?”

  She curtsied in return, pretending to hold out a full skirt. “I would be delighted.”

  Smiling, Hugo came to take Sky's hand, and they waited while his father put the bike away so they could go in together.

  “Really, Hugo, the house looks so bright and festive with your contributions.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  Sky called her aunt telling her she would be out but not late. Hugo sat her in a corner of the kitchen in a wingback chair. They had set up a reading nook by the big kitchen windows with two tall chairs and a round wooden table loaded with books. Dinner was pork chops and baked potatoes with green beans, prepared quickly and efficiently by Hugo and his dad. The Viscount served white wine with dinner, a glass for each of them at the formal dining table in the other room.

  “Just a little for me, sir.” Sky said. “I don't drink and I don't want to waste your wine.”

  “Just enough for a toast then.”

  Taking his place, he held up his glass. “To new friends.”

  “To new friends,” Sky and Hugo echoed, looking at each other and smiling.

  As usual Sky was starving and had seconds on the pork chops while fielding questions about school and her family. The Viscount wanted to hear more about Rickey. Apparently Hugo had talked about the birthday party in detail.

  It was a most excellent evening, Sky reflected as she lay I bed that night. Maximilien cuddled next to her. The cat often slept on her bed, and she stroked him methodically trying to calm herself down enough to sleep. Sitting at the dining room table and talking with Hugo and his father, she felt again that frisson of what growing up could be like. Good meals, interesting conversation, a beautiful home.

  Tonight, she could not agree with Rickey. Life was not scary. Instead, it seemed very sweet indeed.

  Chapter 12

  Blood Rush

  Hugo joined the squad for lunch the next day. Sky worried they might look at it as an intrusion. No one did. He was attentive as they talked, took no offense when they kidded him, and had an easy sense of humor that made him just as ready to laugh at himself as anyone else.

  As they cleared the trays, impulsively she asked, “Want to come over for dinner tonight?”

  “To your house?”

  “No. I thought we'd eat on the curb, like hoboes. Of course to my house.

  “There's that cheekiness again,” he laughed. “That would be nice. The eating at your house part. Not on the curb.”

  “Great. Let me call ahead and see if there's something I need to pickup. Today was my aunt's day at the power plant, so I'm cooking which means it will probably be something simple.”

  “I shall call my father.”

  Sky imitated his accent, “Shall you indeed?”

  He nudged her and she nudged him back.

  Eloise assured Sky they had enough for an extra guest. After school, Sky picked up her gear and the two of them dashed to catch the three o-clock shuttle. It ran every hour between two and six.

  Tricia was overjoyed to have someone home early. Sky saw the spirit of Alex appear in the entryway right behind the poodle. She glanced at Hugo.

  He picked up Tricia, who wiggled with delight, covering him with kisses. “I see Alex,” he said swiveling his face away from Tricia's reach.

  That made her happy that they shared this same weird ability.

  She showed him where to toss his backpack and headed for the kitchen. “There's sports drinks in the fridge and tortilla chips in that big plastic container there on the kitchen counter.” She pointed. “Help yourself.”

  Opening the fridge he asked, “Do you like green or orange?”

  “Oh green, only green sports drinks for me.”

  He nodded solemnly before twisting the tops off two bottles.“We are in agreement on that.” He handed one to her. “Cheers!”

  They both had homework and worked at the dining room table while they snacked. Every once in awhile Hugo would reach over to run his fingers across her hand or linger on her cheek. They kissed, briefly and often. He seemed to hold himself back just a little. Sky was too new at this to press for more. Those kisses in the library and on his front lawn had been incredible. Just like that magazines said they could be. She would have to call Rickey and ask dating protocol. Rickey had lots of experience with dating. Rather alarmingly so.

  Sky was feeling very stuck on her time capsule essay, especially after reading Sara Anne's short, moving piece.

  As a senior, Hugo did not have the same assignment. She asked him to read through hers.

  He did, with a frown. “I must say I agree with your teacher.”

  Sky rolled her eyes.

  “No, I mean about people in the future being able to read the history. She wants things that matter for personally to you. For example, what are you most afraid of now, at sixteen?”

  That brought Sky up short. At first nothing came and then, far too much. The man in the stealth suit. The little curl of smoke from the dead man's cigarette. Her dilemma of who to tell and not tell about the encounter and the stomach churning feeling of being far out of her depth.

  “I feel like I have to pretend all the time,” she blurted out. “Be something I'm really not.”

  “In what circumstances?” He sounded genuinely interested. “At home? School?”

  “On patrol.” She absently scrolled through some screens on her tablet. Deliberately not looking at Hugo. “Playacting like I'm a soldier. In control. That somehow this is all natural for me. You know, that I'm okay with it.”

  “Why don't you jot down some notes like that. You're a soldier in training. Tell these future people how scary and confusing that is for you. Tell them how you felt as a child, starting your training, and how your feelings have changed now. If they have,” he paused. “Have they changed?”

  She set down the tablet, walked into the kitchen and bustled between the shelves and refrigerator.

  Hugo took the hint and didn't push her for an answer. “What's for dinner?”

  “Spaghetti and meat sauce and zucchini.”

  “What's zucchini?”

  She pulled one of the squash from the fridge and showed him.”

  “Ah, I see. We call them marrow.”

  She finished getting the pots out for the sauce and pasta and the frying pan for the ground beef. Then she sliced up the squash and set it on the stove.

  Hugo moved his things to the kitchen counter and pulled out one of the tall stools. Tricia wouldn't stop jumping until he set her on the seat next to him and pulled it close.

  Watching him work on the keyboard, she thought she saw something about the turn of his head. His jawline. Quill. That was it, the boy with the gorgeous mouth. She'd forgotten all about him.

  “There are a lot of English people in the Bay Area.” She was browning the meat a
nd added a handful of chopped onions.

  “Are there? I'm the only one I know of at Redwood High.”

  “They come for the University and to the medical center. It's kind of famous. I met another English guy the other day, on the way to the mall.”

  She glanced over at Hugo and saw he had gone very still, his hands paused, his face staring at the keyboard.

  “What did he look like?”

  Sky stirred the onions and turned the heat down, reaching over to pour on the bottled sauce. “The English guy? Tall and really slim, black hair cut all sort of cool, like a comic book character. How do people get their hair to do that?”

  “Sky.”

  “You know, standing up in perfectly sculpted...”

  Hugo was next to her. She hadn't even heard him get out of his chair and she jumped, startled. He grabbed her hand, his face almost gray. “Sky!”

  She pulled back. “What? What's wrong?”

  He looked at her intently, his finely shaped brows drawn together, his mouth a thin line. “Did this boy tell you his name?”

  She couldn't think what had gotten him so agitated. “Quill,” she said. “I thought it was a funny name but it suited him.”

  “Did he touch you?”

  She was puzzled by his serious tone and tried to put a little distance between him to better see his face. He pulled her back, both hands gripping her shoulders.

  “Did he touch you?” he said again.

  “We shook hands. Not 'touch' like what you seem to mean. He was super nice and super charming. We just bumped into each other by accident.”

  “Accident,” Hugo echoed.

  “We had coffee together and he told me about London. What are you freaking out about? Because I'm looking at you and I can tell, you are totally freaking out.”

  Hugo took a deep breath and visibly pulled himself together, twisting his mouth up into a smile. “No, nothing. Just, after that encounter on the trail with the Victims Army people, I've sort of been seeing villains everywhere. Just being protective.” He gave her a much more genuine smile and Sky couldn't help smiling back.