by Shauna King
Quietus
Harvest
Shauna King
Copyright Notice
Copyright © Shauna King 2015.
Quietus Part 1, Harvest
All Rights Reserved.
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Disclaimer: This novel is a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it, while at times based on real figures, are purely the work of the author’s imagination.
Thanks & Acknowledgements
Love and thanks to my family and friends, for believing in me and encouraging me.
PROLOGUE
Miami, Florida.
08.08.2018 05.30 a.m.
His phone rang, shocking him out of sleep. He looked at the caller and sighed. He knew exactly what she was calling about. And it wasn't to wish him a good day. It was a good job his dad was on his side or else today's special event wouldn't be happening.
“Morning Mom. What's up?” he said with false cheer.
“James darling, I know you won't want to hear this, but I have a dreadful feeling about today. And have you seen the date? It's one of those days... a number sign or something like that, anyway, it's a bad omen... what with that and my daily horoscope, it says, I quote, to avoid risks where you can... you shouldn't go.”
Annoyance rose inside him. He had to hand it to her, she'd go to any lengths to stop him, to spoil things.
He knew how special Evelyn was. She nearly died twice as a baby. But his mom was far too protective of her. She stifled her. He knew Evelyn felt imprisoned, like a princess in an ivory tower, and she needed some escape. He suspected his mom was the main reason why Evelyn had started to rebel so badly.
His mother was controlling and manipulative and always had to have things done her way. He understood exactly why his dad had left her eight years ago. It hadn't been any kind of shock. James himself had escaped as soon as he could, moving away to Miami, to be rid of her overpowering, intefering presence in his life.
“The date and whatever else has nothing to do with it... and you know it. You're just desperate for excuses. For crissakes, chill out, will you? I'm not doing anything I haven't done dozens of times. I'll be very careful, follow all safety procedures to the Nth degree, and I'm doing a real easy one... real easy... you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Evie will be safer than she is lying in her bed, I promise you.” He tried to reassure her as he had done many times over the last few months. Although it all fell on deaf ears. The risk levels they were undertaking were very low. Almost miniscule. At least his dad understood that.
“But Evelyn's so young... far too young for this type of activity, what the hell are you thinking?” his mother persisted.
“Mom, I'm not doing this anymore.” His eyes strayed to his bedside clock. Jesus...five thirty? “Go back to sleep, and stop worrying about nothing.”
“Sleep? You think I can sleep when my baby is in danger. Can't you take her surfing, to the movies, shopping... anything else... please...? James, I'm begging you... don't do this. Today will end badly. I know it will... I know... listen to me...”
“Mother. That is quite enough. Stop it!” He barked down the phone. She sounded almost hysterical. It was ridiculous.
“Don't you speak to me like that! You just don't care, do you? You only ever think about yourself. You and that job and all your money and your goddamn car...”
“Okay, okay!! I'm a selfish bastard. I'm turning my cell off now. Speak later. You have a nice day.” He ended the call before he blew his top.
This wasn't the way he wanted his day to start. With another awful row with his mom.
He pushed his mother from his mind before guilt and paranoia started to sink into him, like she'd planned. He hated thinking it, but she really was a prize bitch at times. But she was right in some respects. He was selfish. He did worship money. He enjoyed buying himself expensive things.
He lay quietly, gazing at his clock, dozing on and off and watching the minutes turn over. At six thirty, the alarm sounded, and the radio came on, like usual. He stretched and took a deep breath. As the feeling ebbed back into his body, he threw back the duvet and rolled himself up.
After washing and dressing in loose, comfortable clothes, he entered the kitchen where he made both himself and his sister Evelyn some coffee and toast and honey. Then he carried her breakfast to his spare room, where she was still fast asleep. Her long mass of dark hair was everywhere and she looked so sweet and innocent. Although he wasn't so sure she was so innocent.
At sixteen, Evelyn was at the age where she thought she knew everything and wanted to be all grown up, period. When he'd met her at the airport the night before, he'd been shocked at her appearance. Far too much makeup, heavy perfume, and very provocatively dressed.
He couldn't imagine she'd left home like that. She wouldn't have dared and he knew mom wouldn't have allowed it. And to cap it off, to test him further, she'd whipped a cigarette out of her purse and lit up on the way back to the car. James had just quit smoking himself. He knew all about the addictive nature of it. That and drink and other things. He didn't want her to get hooked on the little cancer sticks. He'd been really angry with her at that point, and they'd had words. A lot of words. But they'd smoothed it over since. He'd always got on so well with her before, and he wanted that to continue, through this stage she was going through. He wanted to be there for her to guide her away from some of the things things he'd done, and deeply regretted. He thought she actually might listen to him. They had a special relationship, one which began when he first held her in his arms when she was a tiny, premature little baby, and he was eleven years old. Her tiny eyes had opened and she stared at him and he stared back in wonder. Her effect on him had been profound. How tiny, helpless and dependent on others. He fell in love with her instantly. And when she'd hovered on the brink of death... her lungs failing... the whole experience had opened his eyes to the meaning of life. He'd never felt so scared.
Love.
How precious it was. Up till recently, it had scared him. He'd not dared to let himself love, because he feared the pain of losing it. But he was starting to reconsider that.
Seriously.
He was lonely. And he had to admit to feeling broody. He wanted to be a father. One by one all his friends and colleagues were settling down, getting married, having kids... and to his surprise he'd been getting more and more envious. He actually wanted some of that.
He placed the plate and mug on the bedside bookcase and then opened the blind slats a little, peering through them. It wasn't light yet, and the sky was a mass of pre-dawn streaks. James was used to getting up early, as he had to be on the desk at 07.30 a.m, for work.
He touched her on the arm.“Up you get, kiddo. It's time to go,” he said cheerfully.
She raised her head and gave him a dirty look. She wasn't bright and chirpy like he was first thing in the morning. In fact, she was a rattler, ready to strike.
“Oh for God's sake...” she snapped, well in character, and making him smile, “It's still dark. Why do we have to get up so frickin' early?”
“For a number of reasons.” Which he wasn't going to explain while she was so grouchy and not really listening. “C'mon, move yourself, grumpy. Don't go back to sleep.”
He chuckled as he slapped her lightly in the
region of her backside.
“Go away, Jammy boy,” she said testily, and covered her head with her pillow.
In his younger years, her pet name for him used to grate on his nerves... it was not cool, and he was a cool guy. But now he had matured, and he just smiled, finding it sweet and amusing. “Your breakfast is sitting next to you, getting cold. And we're leaving in half an hour. Move your ass, Evie girl.”
He returned to the kitchen to drink his coffee by the window, and gazed outside blindly, his mind wandering. He'd originally had misgivings about his sister's visit, as she'd definitely cramp his style, but now, he was more than pleased she was here for the next seven days. She'd given him a great opportunity to break his unhealthy bad habits, to remove himself from that world and think, seriously, about his life plan.
He needed this break. His lifestyle had caught up with him. He shouldn't be feeling so tired and jaded at twenty seven years of age, but all the socializing he had to do, burning the candle at both ends, was dragging him down. He couldn't blame his job entirely, as a lot of it was self induced. He'd partied way too hard and far more than was necessary. And he'd enjoyed it in the beginning. Swanky restaurants and bars, heavy drinking, clubbing, loads of beautiful girls passing through his bed. But it had lost it's appeal lately. It was beginning to feel like a shallow existence. He was tired of it, mentally, and it was time to tone things down, before his life and health went pear-shaped.
He knew he needed a girlfriend. Someone special to get close to. Someone to come home to. Someone to care for and love.
He heard Evelyn moan and groan to herself as she sat up in bed and he smiled. They'd have a real blast together. Morning's aside.
Evelyn had bugged him for an age about the cave diving, but until she was sixteen, he agreed with his mom, that she was too young and hadn't really had enough scuba experience. But his dad had helped with that, and now, they were all set, eight days after her sixteenth birthday. He was really buzzing for her.
She'd finally get to see what it was all about.
The power of the caves was addictive.
Being deep down, under the surface of the earth, submerged below tons of rock, in the cold, pitch black... it was another world.
And it blew his mind.
Chapter 1
Hernando County, Florida.
Nursery Sink.
08.08.08 13.30p.m.
I'm lost in my thoughts, churning my whole life over in my mind as I arrive at my destination.
What the hell?
I'm surprised as I draw up behind a black Land Rover Discovery. I didn't expect anyone else to be here. This sinkhole is well hidden and little known. And that was one of the main reasons I'd chosen it.
“Dammit...” I say to myself. I'm not happy about sharing the sink space with others, although I do appreciate it's not my personal property and there's not much I can do about it.
I take a good look at the guy and young girl who are in the process of unloading their car. Their air tanks are already lying on the ground and they stop rummaging inside the trunk and turn to face me as I arrive behind them.
The guy is looking at me warily. A little guiltily, maybe? I wonder why...
I switch off the engine, and with a long sigh of irritation, I open the door.
I don't want to converse—with anyone—but now it seems I've got to.
I know I'm a real misery guts, but I have good reason. That's what I tell myself anyway.
As I swing my legs out of my battered Chevy Tahoe, I'm feeling especially anti-social today. It might be hormonally induced.
Well. Here goes. I shall try to be very brief and pleasant.
They both watch me as I approach, my footsteps crunching on the light gravel of the track.
“Hi there,” he says, smiling at me broadly. As I close in, I take in the brooding good looks instantly. But they have no positive effect on me. Not even a flutter of interest ruffles my female psyche. I'm immune. Inured. Deadened to every male of the species. Since Joe and I split, six months ago, I've not been interested in men. In truth it wasn't just Joe, Ronnie, the boyfriend before him, was just as bad, and he hurt me badly...but Joe... he was the one who broke my heart.
Broken? No... smashed to pieces... Crushed and ruined... Scattered to the far reaches of the universe... that's how betrayed, lost and alone I really felt.
I know I'm wallowing in self pity, but I just can't stop myself from doing it. Over and over and over.
Shit...
His image flashes through my mind, yet again—despite everything. I'd loved him with every breath in my body.... he had the most gorgeous blue eyes I've ever seen... a voice like smooth velvet and looks that men would sell their soul for...
Goddammit girl, are you a masochist or what?
I stop myself thinking about him. He has absolutely no right to space in my thoughts anymore.
“Going down?” I ask, without a returning smile. It's the best I can do in terms of gracious hellos.
“Yeah, we are,” he replies, staring with the usual curiosity at my face. I know what he's thinking. Everyone does. I get double takes wherever I go. I usually wear glasses, not that I need them, but it helps hide the resemblance. I'm a dead ringer for Mila Kunis. Facially anyway. The rest of me is nothing like her. I'm not similarly endowed with her feminine curves. I've a very slim build. Way too skinny, “...a body like a starved whippet... ” so Lucy keeps telling me. But I can't help it if I've got a fast metabolism. I certainly eat enough.
“D'you have permission to dive here? This is private land, you know?” I point out, trying not to sound too pompous and snappy, but failing dismally.
“Really?” he answers cautiously, obviously unsure as to who I am and my authority. He has every reason to be wary of me.
“Surely you must know that, I guess you've dived more than a few times before,” I say, tipping my head pointedly at the tanks and specialist scuba equipment in the trunk. Someone with that kind of gear has a lot of expertise in the caves. Whatever he's saying, he knows this is a private sinkhole. “I was hoping to be alone,” I continue, “I'm videoing and cataloging the tertiary rock systems in this area. It's a scientific, exploratory dive. ”
“Oh, I see... are you doing a thesis or dissertation?” he asks pleasantly, his face registering interest. But for some reason his question irks me.
I'm twenty six and a doctor of science, not a student for crissakes.
But of course, he wouldn't know that. I am quite youthful looking and he was simply asking a logical question. I bite my tongue trying to sound pleasant in return.
“No, I'm a qualified geo-ecologist. I'm working.”
“Oh, well that's a cool job, I guess.”
He doesn't know what my job entails. And I wouldn't expect him to. My role is a mixture of two disciplines. I primarily study Earth sciences and secondarily how the Earth influences and interacts, ecologically, with the living world. I tend to concentrate on the underwater parts of the Earth. That's my niche. Or to be more precise, and truthful, my great love and obsession.
“It has its rewards,” I reply shortly.
“Done a lot of cave diving, have you?” he probes.
“A great deal. All round the world. My job takes me everywhere. But I'm concentrating on Florida this year.”
As I've now hinted, very strongly, I'm not the landowner, he decides to come clean with me.
“Look, it's my sister's first cave dive. I have a diving license but she doesn't. We don't have permission to dive here, but it'll be brief and we'll stay well out of your way...Miss....err?”
“It's doctor,” I explain, folding my arms. I ran my Ph.D. concurrently with my masters and made it out of university at twenty three. “Dr. Johnson...and you are...?”
“James Richardson,” he replies. He doesn't hold out his hand, but folds his arms in response to mine.
“So tell me, are you a professional diver, or just a weekend thrill seeker?”
He ignores my
jibe, remaining calm and pleasant. I'm not sure why, he has no reason to be nice to me.
“I'm a hedge fund manager from Miami. Cave diving's one of my hobbies. And although I do enjoy the thrill of the dive, I also find it very relaxing. I'm sure you can appreciate that.” He produces the most charming grin—which I'm sure would melt any woman's heart on the spot. Except mine, because I have a lot of other things going on inside me, of a far more negative nature.
No way...? A goddamn hedge fund manager...!
Joe managed a hedge fund. They could possibly know each other...
I offer not a glimmer of a smile in return. My eyes narrow as I assess him coldly, in fact my gaze is bordering hostile. And I can't help it. Not only do I not like men much, particularly the good looking ones, I really do not like what this one does for a living or the fact he's a cave-diving, eco-disturbing tourist. He isn't ticking any of my boxes.
I automatically huff a long drawn out sigh, which goes some way to releasing my pent up inner tension.
As a distraction, I move my focus to his sister. She looks nice enough. Sweet and pretty. Quite young, I'd place her at fifteen or sixteen years of age.
“I suppose it's as good a place as any for a first dive.” I manage a barely perceptible smile at her, raising my frosty countenance from zero to one degree of warmth. “Make sure you tie your hair back, it's a major diving hazard.”
“Yeah, James told me already,” she replies, producing a couple of hair bands from her wrist.”
“Did he really? Well... what d'you know?” I say with a distinctly sarcastic tone.
What's got into me? That was so rude of me.
I guess it's the 'hedge fund' antagonizing my brain.
“I know a lot of things, some of which may surprise you,” he replies with a sharp edge to his voice. The set of his features and the flare of anger in his eyes as he glares at me, tells me I've got to him. I feel mean and embarrassed by myself, as he's done nothing to me personally. I really wish I could get over Joe. He shouldn't be affecting my life like this. I used to be a pleasant and warm person to know, but now I'm bitter and snappy and very unapproachable. I don't like who I've become. This isn't the real me and I'm scared because I've no idea how to get the real me back.
