Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Never again, I swore to myself. It ends today.

  I collided into Owen. Though I could never be confused with a menacing person, I had caught him by surprise and I put enough shoulder in it to knock him off his feet.

  “Mom!” I yelled, as she took me into her arms. It was strange seeing her in person; really in front of me again. She looked older, more worn. And sure, there were things she hadn’t told me, truths she had kept from me since the day I was born. But I was with her now, in her arms, and in that brief moment, nothing else mattered.

  Owen did a ninja style backflip, landed on his feet, and started running toward us.

  Oh. Well, there’s that.

  “Come on!” Mom said, and we made a beeline for the door. As if on cue, the door swung shut, closing our only exit. “There goes that,” Mom said in the same tone she used whenever she spilled something on her blouse or misplaced the leys to the car.

  “Are you okay?” She asked as we ran to the far end of the circular room.

  “I’m okay,” I answered shakily, though whether that was true or not was anyone’s guess. “What about you?”

  “I’m good,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Now I’m good.”

  We reached the far wall and spun around. Owen was barreling toward us. Mom pushed me behind her, blocking me.

  “No, Mom. He won’t hurt me.”

  “You’re damn right, he won’t” She answered. “Did you know Owen was a Breaker?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, I didn’t before, but I do now,” I stammered. “This isn’t his fault. Allister Leeman put a trigger in his mind. Owen is one of the good guys.”

  Owen started screaming, pulled something that looked like a dagger from his pants, and threw it at it, without breaking stride. It whizzed inches past our faces, hit the wall, and fell.

  “I can tell,” Mom muttered.

  “I can fix him Mom,” I said, eyeing the remote in my hand.

  “You can’t fix boys, honey. The sooner you learn that, the better. Now, let Mom do her job,” she said.

  Mom lunged forward. I had seen a lot of strange things in the time since our house blew up, but watching my mom do a somersault, hit Owen with an uppercut, slide into a split, and then take his feet out, knocking him down, might have been the strangest. And that’s counting the glowing dragon made entirely out of energy.

  She pounded against his chest with a flat palm. He jerked up, gasping for air. Okay. So, maybe Owen wouldn’t kill Mom after all. Maybe Mom would kill him. That wasn’t a good result either though. I looked up at the ceiling, grimacing at the space I had just come from. It was a two way mirror, but I was sure Allister Leeman was standing on the other side, probably laughing and watching me squirm. I would make him pay for this. I meant that.

  By the time I looked back, Mom was on the ground. Owen stood over her, kicking her hard in the gut over and over again. The look in his eyes; it was like he wasn’t even there. I flashed back to the day our house blew up, to watching my mom get beat on by those bulky crazies. Suddenly, I realized the knife Allister Leeman gave me was still in my right hand.

  “Owen, stop it!” I screamed, gripping the handle. “Owen, it’s me! It’s Cresta. Just listen to me. I know you’re in there.”

  He kept at her; kicking her until she yelled and grunted like a wounded puppy.

  “Owen, you’re going to kill her!”

  He didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to notice me at all. He was an animal; a programmed thing that was going to put an end to my mother. Suddenly, he pulled a second dagger from somewhere on his person. Sweat glistened on his chest and his face looked practically feral. There would be no getting through to him. Mom turned toward me. She opened her mouth to speak, and blood poured from it.

  “Run,” she mouthed.

  “No,” I said firmly. “I left you once. I left dad. I won’t do it again. God forgive me,” I whispered, tightened my grip on the knife’s hilt, and ran toward him.

  “I love you,” I said as I slashed at his chest. A red gash appeared under his left shoulder and began weeping blood. He didn’t react. He didn’t fight me at all. He lifted the dagger, but it wasn’t aimed at me.

  “Mom, go!” I yelled, and pushed Owen to the floor. I kicked the dagger out of his hand. It slid across the metal. He pushed me with a hard hand. I went winding and landed hard on my back. But he didn’t come back at me. He had a one track mind, and it was all about my mother. He had been programmed to kill her, programmed for this moment.

  Walking him step closer to my mother, who was stumbling backward across the floor, I realized this was it. I could rush him; stab him in his lower back. With my fancy new Breaker mind, I might even be able to do it with such precision that I didn’t actually kill him. But would that do any good? If I was right, Allister Leeman had programmed him so thoroughly that only death would stop his rampage. That is what he wanted, after all; for me to kill someone, for me to kill Owen.

  No. I wouldn’t give him that. I wouldn’t give in to his machinations. If I did this, if I killed Owen, not only would it break my heart so completely that I was sure it could never be put back together, but it would also give every fundamentalist on either side of this crazy coin cause to believe I, folk-rock loving 115 lb. girl that I was, was going to destroy the world. But it I didn’t, he was going to kill my mom.

  There had to be another way. As if it was trying to tell me something, the remote in my hand started to tingle. I lifted it. If it worked, I could reenter the code that sent Owen on this rampage. Of course, I didn’t know the code, but I figured one mountain at a time.

  “Come on, I muttered, pressing the buttons feverishly. Nothing happened. It had been broken when Casper tackled Allister Leeman. Wait. The thought crashed into me like a Mack truck. If I could manipulate shade to make people see things; or more aptly, not see things, then maybe I could make use it to make them hear things too. If I could manipulate some shade, namely the blobby aura still surrounding Owen’s tattoo, then maybe I could make him hear the tones he needed to.

  Owen inched closer to my mother. His dagger was still on the ground, but I was sure he wouldn’t need it. I focused hard on Owen’s tattoo, on the shade around it. Just like earlier in the 7-11, my mind latched hold of the shade. It was mine to control. Now all I needed was the correct code. I code have went through all the possible combinations; the remote only had nine numbers on it after all, but Owen was closing in on Mom, and he’d have ended her by then.

  Instead, I looked at the remote, remembering Allister Leeman when he punched the code in. I thought back, remembering the way his fingers moved when he keyed it in. I mimicked him.

  Six.

  I focused. The shade suddenly became the tone.

  Four.

  It happened again.

  Six again.

  Nine.

  Two.

  Three.

  And there was one more, but that was when Casper tackled him. Thinking back, I couldn’t get a clear view of what number Allister Leeman had pressed.

  Owen’s hands wrapped tightly around my mother’s neck. She gurgled and flailed. I stood and ran toward him. I had to kill him. But could I? I loved him more than myself, but I loved my mother too. I ran toward him, tears running down my face. Iknew what I had to do. I would-

  Seven. It was always seven.

  The tone rang out like the sweetest sound I had ever heard. Owen snapped back to himself, jerking away from Mom.

  “By fate’s hand,” he said trembling. “Mrs. Karr-Ash-I…”

  I collided with him, dropping both the knife and the remote, and using my hands instead, to hug his back and kiss his neck.

  “Cresta,” he turned to me. “I…”

  “I know,” I said. “Mom, are you-“

  “I’m fine,” she coughed. “I’m okay.” She stood, and brushed herself off. “I just- Did I miss something? I thought he wasn’t into you.”

  There was still a lot to do. Allister Leeman still had Casper, Wendy, and
Merrin. And Lord knows he would certainly pull every rabbit he had out of his hat in an effort to get me to kill before the sun came up. But I smiled anyway. I couldn’t help it. I had my mom back. Owen wasn’t under Allister Leeman’s control anymore. Maybe, I thought hesitantly. Maybe we can win this.

  That’s when I heard the explosion.

  Chapter 21

  Breadcrumbs

  THE WORLD SHOOK as the sounds of thrashing metal, shattering glass, and maligned bodies erupted around us. Bits of steel and glass showered down onto us. I ducked, tucking my head between my legs. I even felt Mom overhead; shielding me from the worst of it. Still, we it was all over, I found myself covered in tiny painful cuts.

  Mom was worse. Her face and neck were marked heavily with cuts, and her hands looked tattooed in red. Still, Owen had the worst of it. When Mom threw herself over me, he must have thrown himself over her; because when he turned to see what had happened, I found his back was slick with blood. Shards of glass were still dug into him.

  “Owen…” I gasped.

  “It’s fine,” he said, without missing a beat. “It’ll heal. I’m fine.” But he winced when Mom started pulling the shards from his back.

  Looking up, I saw that the two way mirror had exploded. The floor I had just left must have been ground zero for whatever just happened. A tight sickness gripped my heart. Sure, that was the floor Allister Leeman had been on, but my friends were there too. Casper was there.

  The door swung open. The well-dressed pair that had ushered me in, strode toward us. They had pistols in both their hands.

  “What the hell’s going on?” I demanded.

  “Come with us,” the man ignored my question.

  “We’re not going anywhere with you,” I said.

  “Don’t make us use these, little girl,” the well-dressed woman chimed in.

  “As if you could,” I scoffed. “Your boss wouldn’t like it very much if you shot me.”

  “Perhaps,” the man said. The guns parted, and now pointed at Mom and Owen instead. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we killed them though.”

  I swallowed hard, ready to do what they said; anything, so long as they didn’t pull those triggers. But, like twin tornadoes, Mom and Owen grabbed the guns’ barrels, ripped them from their would- be assailants, and struck them across the head. They crumpled onto the ground like the discarded bride and groom from a toppled wedding cake.

  “Well done,” Mom glanced at Owen.

  “Thanks,” he beamed. “I love it when they get cocky.”

  “Well, you’re gonna freakin’ adore me.” The voice belonged to Ezra. The amputee floated in the doorway, blocking our exit and grinning a wicked greasy smile.

  “Move,” Mom said in a tone that broached no argument.

  “Make me,” Ezra ran a hand through his long hair and blew a sickening kiss at Mom.

  “Be careful,” Owen whispered. “He’s a Mover.”

  “Is that right?” Mom answered. “Well, I’m a Shaker.” She made a gun with her hand and pointed it at Ezra. He twitched her forefinger, pulling the trigger. Ezra started to shake violently. He thrashed back and forth like someone had stuck him in a paint mixer and, when he stopped; his eyes were wide and his expression blank. He fell like a sack to the floor, and lay there unconscious.

  “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Owen blinked.

  “You’re welcome,” Mom grinned. “Come on. We’re leaving.” She grabbed my hand.

  “What happened up there?” I asked again.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, running toward the door. “Let them deal with their own mess. All I care about is making sure you’re safe.”

  “Casper is up there,” I said as we entered the staircase.

  “You brought Casper here?!” Mom was stunned. She stopped for a second, and then looked at Owen and back to me. “Can I trust him?” She asked.

  “I do,” I said, looking at his deep blue eyes and the gash on his chest where I had cut him.

  “Good,” she turned back to him. “Go find Casper. I’m getting Cresta out of here.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I got him into this. He’s here because of me. I have to make sure he gets out okay.”

  “Cresta, until the sun comes up, next to you is the most dangerous place he can be,” Mom said.

  “She’s right,” Owen answered. “They’re going to be looking for you. Get out of here. I’ll find him. I’ll find all of them. We’ll meet you.”

  “Nobody dies for me today,” I told him.

  “Understood,” he nodded.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him close, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “That includes you. Be careful.”

  “Always,” he answered and, like a flash, he was gone.

  We had run up three flights of stairs (which wasn’t easy in a wedding gown) and not seen anyone. The sounds of fighting, shouts, crashes, and thuds, sounded out from the other side of the wall. There was some sort of scuffle, but what?

  I stopped by the door that would have led us onto one of the main floors. “Mom, I need to know what’s going on.”

  “You need to keep going!” She said, as though mine was the stupidest idea she had ever heard.

  “Who’s out there? If people are dying for me-“

  “Then you getting yourself killed would only make their sacrifice for nothing.”

  “I don’t want anybody sacrificing themselves for me. I just- I want all of this to be over.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.” She brushed my hair back like she did when I was little. “And it will be. I promise. We just have to go.”

  “You lied to me. And not just about little things; about big giant life changing stuff.” It wasn’t the best time for this, not while both of us still had bits of glass in our hair. But we were here, I didn’t know what was coming and, if I never did another thing in my entire life, I wanted to hear the truth from my mother.

  She sighed, seeming to deflate. “I know I did, honey.

  “And I get why you did it, I guess. I just-“

  “What do you want to know?” She asked, leaning in closer so that our eyes were level. Running seemed to take a backseat for her, at least momentarily.

  “You’re not my mom,” I said, as tears streamed unbidden down my cut, tired face. It wasn’t a question, but it was the thing I wanted to say more than anything else.

  “I am!” She pulled me in, batting back tears off her own. “ I’m yours and you’re mine; forever. Do you understand me?”

  “But Dr. Conyers-“ I started.

  “Dr. Conyers was my best friend,” Mom said. “She still is, in all the ways that matter. But she wasn’t there when you took your first steps. She wasn’t there when you had your first nightmare, or when you needed your first bra. She didn’t watch you grow up; didn’t get to see the woman you’ve become. After your dad died, I wanted to take you someplace away from things, someplace where I thought you’d be safe. And Dr. Conyers, she wanted to see you, to get to know you. And I can’t blame her, Cresta. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever known. I’m so proud of you.”

  “But dad wasn’t a Breaker. Echo told me,” I said as a loud thump shook the door before us. “If he wasn’t a Breaker, then-“

  “Your father was the love of my life, and a good man. He loved you more than anything. That’s all that matters.”

  “But he knew about me, about what I was?”

  “He did,” she nodded.

  “How?”

  She sighed again. “Cresta, there are people who think differently than Echo and the others; people who don’t answer to the Council of Masons or adhere to the archaic rules that they cling to. These people want to save the world too, but they want to do it the right way. These people would accept you. They wouldn’t judge you or try to change you, and they sure as hell wouldn’t try to kill you. Your father was one of these people. It’s where you belong, and it’s where I’m going to take you.”

 
“Like hell you will.” Ezra was at the bottom of the stairs, floating dazedly with his teeth in a snarl. “The Bloodmoon stays with us. “

  Mom gunned up her hand again, pointing it at Ezra. But before she could act, Ezra threw his hand. Mom went spiraling through the door and into the fray. Looking out, I saw that we weren’t inside anymore. The door looked out onto a small town, and not just any town. We were back in Crestview. The night sky was starting to brighten. The sun would be up soon, but I saw with a start that it wouldn’t be quick enough. People dressed in formal wear, dressed for my wedding, fought against a wave of people dressed in matching black and white garb. I watched in horror as a man in a tuxedo was thrown through the air and impaled a ragged piece of sharp metal that had once been the Hernando statue. A woman in a long peach dress swung an axe at one of the black and white clad men, striking him in the knee and taking him down.

  “Mom!” I yelled, but before I could move, she was swallowed up in the crowd. Suddenly, I felt a pull at me. It grabbed me, the unseen fingers, and lifted me off my feet. Before I could react, I was floating up the stairs toward Ezra.

  “Come on, pretty one,” he grinned at me. “Let’s get you to the Raven.”

  I struggled, pulling against the force, but it was no use. He had me. Ezra smiled wider and flicked his tongue at me. “You do make a scrumptious little dish, don’t you? I wonder if Allister would mind if I could a taste for myself before I delivered you. “ His tongue made a second appearance. “Just a taste.”

  I cringed as I neared him; close enough that I would feel his breath on my neck. I wanted to screwam, but then his eyes got wide. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but then fell. I fell too, no longer a prisoner of his grip. Looking up, I saw Dahlia standing over me. A sword, streaked in blood graced her hand.

  “I knew you were trouble,” she muttered. “The first time I saw you, I said it.”

  “How did you find us?” I choked out, rubbing my throat.

  “Because, it seems, my daughter isn’t nearly as foolhardy as Ash’s,” she answered.

  Wendy appeared beside her, a rare grin on her face. ”Hello Cresta Karr,” she said. “I may have left psionic breadcrumbs for Momma to follow, in case the situation became-Well, what the situation has become. Please do not be angry with me.”