Uprising

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Uprising Page 32

by Shelly Crane


  Jeff gave Merrick a look.

  “It couldn’t be Marissa either. Again, she couldn’t make me see a vision of something that didn’t happened like that, could she?” Merrick asked.

  “Yes. I could. But I didn’t,” Marissa said softly.

  “It wasn’t Marissa,” I said quickly. I certainly didn’t need any convincing on that front. “Who, Piper?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. You are so selfish! You have no idea what you’re taking from him! I’m so done here!” She yelled and screeched and let her tears fall while she banged her fist on the couch cushions like a toddler. “I hate it here! I want to go home, back to my normal body and out of this puny black haired evil teenage vessel that is holding me hostage. I’m over six thousand years old. Not sixteen! I’m so done with all of it! I hate it here! Hate it!”

  Marissa then crossed the room and touched Piper’s arm.

  “Tell us who helped you do this to Merrick,” she compelled.

  “Polly,” Piper said then gasped and covered her mouth then yelled loudly. “Stop it, Muse!”

  “Where is Polly?” Merrick asked and Marissa went to look for her in her room.

  In the mean time, while Piper sat stewing and crying loudly under Jeff’s firm grip, Merrick returned back to me and his apologizing, pulling me to look at him with a hand on my cheek, still not caring who could hear him.

  “I’m so sorry. I was terrible to you. Baby, you have to believe that I’d never hurt you-”

  I cut him off with a kiss and this time I didn’t expect him to push me away. He didn’t. He pulled me closer, into his lap and caressed my cheek and jaw line with his fingertips while his lips worked magic to heal my sorrows.

  My Merrick was back. I was more relieved than words could say. I tried to think back to what had happened and see his face so angry at me but I couldn’t. All I saw was my always patient, always loving husband. I was happy to forget the other.

  He broke away, barely, letting his lips graze my lips and face.

  “I know you’d never hurt me,” I said and I meant it.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “I think I’ve more than forgiven you.”

  “I need to hear you say it. And if you can’t, then don’t. I understand the things I said, the way I looked at you, the way I acted was unforgivable.”

  “You were under compulsion, Merrick.”

  “Does that make it ok? No.”

  “It makes it not your fault. But if you need to hear it, of course I forgive you. Though you don’t need my forgiveness.”

  “Sherry,” he breathed my name in relief. “We can never fight again. That was unbearable. I missed you.”

  “Agreed,” I said and smiled at him.

  He looked even more relieved and I determined he was done with his plight and accepting my words. He kissed my mouth again, softly and steadily, and didn’t stop until we heard his name.

  Cain.

  “Hey, uh,” Cain cleared his throat, “Polly’s coming.”

  We looked up to see her coming down the hall with Marissa. Wow. She looked terrible. While I was trying to figure out the newest puzzle piece, Merrick lifted me up with him and set me to my feet, keeping a firm warm hand in mine. He turned to Cain, who was still a couple feet away, near Piper, but definitely avoiding Merrick’s gaze.

  “Cain.”

  Cain looked up reluctantly. Even though everything had been resolved, I felt his pain. Everyone lost faith in us, blamed us for something heinous. No one believed us. Not one person. That sucked.

  “I’m so sorry, man,” Merrick said vehemently.

  “It’s fine, Merrick.”

  “No, it’s not.” Merrick took a step closer to him and extended his hand to shake. “You’re a good honest man, my best friend, and I accused you of something terrible. I’m sorry.”

  Cain stared at Merrick’s hand for a few seconds. Then he took it and finally looked up to Merrick’s face.

  “No harm done. I’m just glad we got it all worked out. You do have some wicked pointy fingers, bro,” his eyes gleamed with amusement and he rubbed the phantom finger spot on his chest.

  “I’m sorr-”

  “I’m just joshing you.” Cain hugged him, patting his back all manly like. “It’s cool. If I thought someone had touched my woman, I’d be off the deep end too. I have been off the deep end actually.”

  “Thanks. We’re good?”

  “Yeah. We’re good.”

  Cain and I looked at each other then. I so wanted to hug him. Once again, we were victims together. But now, after everything, it felt awkward. Would people be watching Cain and I now like hawks, waiting to see if we’d get too close? Was Merrick always going to have suspicions?

  He smiled ruefully and lifted his shoulders in a ‘I have no idea what to do now’ gesture.

  Screw it. I reached out and hugged him.

  He hugged me back and murmured in my ear.

  “Sorry about all this.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said and let him go.

  I glanced back at Merrick and saw him watching us and wince again, looking away. No doubt the picture flashing of Cain and I in Merrick’s mind that he will never be able to erase.

  That’s when I knew things would never be the same. I wouldn’t torture Merrick with his memories. We’d just lay low for while. No more visits and talks in the hall for Cain and I. Not alone anyway.

  I went back to Merrick and wrapped my arms around his neck to whisper in his ear.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t do that anymore.”

  “What? Why?” he said but the softness told me he knew what and why.

  “I understand. I can see you, ya know. I love you and will do anything for you. Even not hug or touch someone because it’s brings a bad memory for you.”

  “It wasn’t real.”

  “But you thought it was. You can still see it and it looks real now, doesn’t it?”

  He exhaled, pursing his lips and nodded slowly.

  “Then I won’t do it anymore,” I whispered firmly.

  He hesitated. Then nodded again gratefully.

  I looked over to see Lillian standing by Cain now. She was whispering in his ear and he was nodding. Then she pulled back and grabbed his hand, they both smiled at each other.

  Well. Well.

  Then it was time to deal with Polly.

  Kiss and Not Tell

  Chapter 24 - Cain

  “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier, in the kitchen. I should have believed you but...you have to admit, it was pretty unbelievable,” Lillian whispered and smiled a little smile to which I returned. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. So...can we just forget all of this, and say you and I work together? Hmm? You can help me with all this Mitchell stuff, help me grieve and let me cry like a girl,” she smiled again, “and...I’ll help you get over Sherry. Well, I’ll try. I can be your friend.”

  She squinted cutely and then bit her bottom lip, waiting for my response.

  “That sounds like a plan to me...lovely.”

  She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, ducked her head.

  Yes!! I’m back in the game!

  “Good. So we get this...stuff settled and then go brief everybody on the things we got, what they talked about at the rally. With everything going on, I think they forgot we even went.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. And yes, that too sounds like a plan.”

  “Good. Sweetie pie,” she said with a smile, remembering our joke.

  She slipped her hand into mine, her fingers still warm and soft but long and skinny. Pleasant to touch but not like Sherry’s. I wonder how long it will be before I stop comparing everything to Sherry. But hey, Lillian knows. We are going in with eyes completely wide open. No hidden secrets. We can be honest and help each other get over all that past crap.

  I glance at Sherry and she’s watching us. She glances at our intertwined hands and lifts her eyebrows, smiling. I realize sh
e’s happy about this new development. I should be. I am but...whew. This is so much harder than I ever imagined. Why do I have to love her? Why? And why did Merrick’s vision of Sherry and I have to be so close to the fantasy I’ve had a million times, just like it.

  We turn our attention back to Jeff, who just started his interrogation of Polly, who looks horrendous. I don’t mean that in a hateful way. She really does look awful. Like someone took the sick-and-pale stick and beat her senseless with it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Polly said sluggishly but she kept glancing at Piper the entire time, back and forth.

  It felt strange to be interrogating two teenager girls like this. Technically, only one was a teenager, but still.

  “I think you do. Are you sick or something?” Jeff asked.

  “I just don’t feel well. Now let me go back to bed.”

  “Ok then, answer my question and you can. What did you do to Merrick?”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Oh, come on. Enough already.” Marisa stepped up and placed a finger on Polly’s hands, folded on her pulled up legs and said, “What did you do to Merrick?”

  Polly started to whimper. Then groan, clutching her stomach. She doubled over onto the floor and starting screaming. I was puzzled. Was this an act? Was she really sick?

  “Don’t, Polly!” Marissa yelled, scolding.

  “Polly, you know what you’re doing. You are only making it worse for yourself,” Sherry said softly and kneeled in front of Polly, though I’m not sure Polly heard her.

  “Don’t listen to them, Polly!” Piper yelled over the screeching. “You keep your secrets. It’s the only thing they can’t take from you on this God forsaken hateful planet!”

  “Shut up, Piper!” Marissa yelled and kneeled down with Sherry. “Polly, stop fighting it. It won’t hurt if you don’t fight it.”

  “Polly. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Sherry said and reached out to help Polly sit up.

  Polly swung her foot up so quickly I barely saw it before it was too late but not for Merrick. He blurred over to her and caught Polly’s bare foot inches from Sherry’s face.

  Sherry went wide eyed and exhaled then let Merrick pull her back into his lap, a safe distance away on the couch. He seemed reluctant to not be touching her anyway, like he needed assurance.

  “Polly.” Marissa was back at it but Polly wasn’t giving up.

  I was still puzzled as to what was going on. Then I heard Simon in my head. I looked up to see him standing at the edge of the commons room.

  It’s the Muse’s Wrath. It’s compulsion. She can make you do something or see something. She can even see things that haven’t happened yet but it’s pretty much haphazard visions. Unfortunately, not always useful. Anyway, if you fight the Muse’s Wrath it hurts, bad. If you just follow through with whatever task she’s given you, you’re fine. Looks like our friend here is fighting it.

  I nodded a thank you for the explanation and he turned, apparently having seen enough. I kinda missed Simon. Hadn’t really had the chance much to talk to him or spend much time with him since we’d been here.

  He was a killer at chess. We’d play at the cabin sometimes when I got home from work. He claimed King Louis XIV of France had taught him, as he had been an avid chess player.

  He’d told me all about his travels, he called them, his times that he came to earth. King Louis was the only real famous person he guarded. But I still thought that was pretty cool. He had spent nearly two months here with him, which Simon told me was almost unheard of for Keepers to do before all this business started with the Lighters being here.

  I snap back to attention when Polly finally sits up and starts spouting all kinds of gibberish. Then she doubles over again and screams, writhing on her side on the floor.

  The warm soft hand in mine squeezes. I look over and Lillian has her head turned and eyes closed. She doesn’t want to see this. It’s not pretty, I’ll grant her that.

  “Hey.” I wait for her to look up at me. “You don’t have to stay here. You’ve been through enough already. I can do this and you can go rest or grab a shower. I’ll check on you later.”

  She smiles sweetly. Then kisses me.

  Yes, kisses me, in front of everyone.

  I wonder if she’s doing me a favor, trying to dispel any lingering rumors that anyone may have about me and Sherry but the kiss is too quick. Too soft. A peck really. She’s not doing anything of the sort. Well, maybe a little, and I fell in love with her a tiny bit right there for it. She wanted to say that she wasn’t going anywhere, but thanks for caring about her.

  She smiles up at me and I smile too. When I turn back to the drama I see that everyone saw. And everyone is puzzled. No one knew anything about this little development but Sherry, whom I glance at to see if she saw and get a sideways grin from her. I just grin too and let everyone think what they want to.

  Polly sits up again and this time, her voice is strong and clear.

  “My gift is visual compulsion. I made Merrick see a vision of Sherry and Cain. I made him relive that vision in his mind on a continuous loop as instructed by Piper. Usually, my compulsion last for multiple days, but Merrick’s only lasted two. Piper threatened me. Said if I didn’t do what she wanted she’d do something to me to make you make me leave. She said, you’d believe her because she was a Keeper. I didn’t want to be out there alone, so I did it.”

  Then she shook her head and breathed deep and looked ahead like she had no idea what to do or what she had done.

  Everyone, once again, turned to look at Piper.

  “Well,” I said since everyone else was silent, “I say a good old fashion hangings in order.”

  Hunk Of Burning Love

  Chapter 25 - The Taker

  The manor is just how I remember it, or how Crandle remembered it rather. It’s quant, though quiet large for a house in these parts and in this time.

  In my day, all there was were mansions and castles. That or squat. You were somebody or you were nobody. You lived or you didn’t. I guess, compared to the mediocre surrounding to the manor, I’m living.

  They know I’m the old me. At least I think they comprehend. It’s so tiresome, dealing with the Lighters minds. Blind obedience and ignorance. Not much else. Not like humans, at least they think. Humans can process requests and commands and not have to be told, slowly and word for word what the instructions are. And God forbid something go wrong. The Lighters have no idea what to do but pummel whatever is nearest to them.

  In my day as a human I was practically a God. I was the kings nephew when the Lighters invaded England. Back then it wasn’t world domination on the agenda. It was just kingdoms. One at a time.

  Some say I was spoiled, but I call it pampered. There is a difference. I lived in the castle, with the king. I wasn’t his heir or anything but may as well have been. The king’s son, my cousin, was a pompous idiot who took longer to get ready for anything than the queen herself did.

  He was prissy and whiny and so shiny. He had more metal on his person than the Royal Guard. Hat buckles, belt buckles, shoe buckles, cufflinks, rings, dainty charm bracelets. Anything that brat could get made of silver, he did. It was embarrassing to be in his presence when the sun was shining. He reflected light like a lighthouse.

  The king loved me and I, well...didn’t love him but was happy where I was. I had no intentions of doing anything but being important. And it so worked for me. I had girls a plenty, sometimes two at once every night and at every event, I was the prize catch to go home with. Or upstairs I should say, as all worthy balls were held at the castle itself.

  Many a girl lost her precious virtue to my charms. It was almost comical how easy it was to slip past those laced up knickers that they claimed were welded so tightly shut until a ring was placed on a certain finger.

  Ha! Not for me!

  I had no intentions of marrying, though I could have held on to my game. I just wasn’t interested. Then I di
ed in a freak buggy accident and was absorbed by a Lighter trying to enter my body and take it over. I remember the darkness, the horrible pain of my life leaving my body as I floated, but I was stronger. I wouldn’t give up and I won. I remember the feeling of being invaded by others, more than one. I suddenly knew and understood everything.

  The Taker can only come into the world when someone worthy and strong enough to handle him can be embodied. I was the Taker for a few years, I lost track. Those were the best years of my life. Then, some fool got a stroke of luck and was able to set the castle on fire while I slept. I didn’t make it and I remember, as I sat in the corner and burned, knowing I was dying and the fun was over, how truly pissed I was. Dead forever this time, at eighteen.

  And now, here we are, 21st century and America. What a dreary and ugly place. No rolling hills, no houses worthy of mention, no courts or balls or bath houses. Nothing of amusement. I blow out an exasperated breath and let my forehead rest against the cool window pane of the sitting room, let the memories of the Takers after and before me settle in. Let us see what these times might have to offer me.

  I head into the master bedroom and look around. The clothes in the closet as well as the ones on my body are disgusting. Not just dirty but in fashion as well.

  After I shower and put on some equally unfashionable attire from the closet, which I recognize now, everything is becoming clearer the more I relax and let the memories come in.

  I head downstairs to find my service men lined up in the den. Waiting for me to address them. Waiting for the new course of action. I immediately begin to lay down the law. Letting them know I am no piddly Taker. I am the Taker.

  “Out of my way fool,” I say to the one idiot half way blocking the doorway, though I had plenty of room to get through. He scrambles with apologies but I slap him across the face. Everyone stills. “I don’t want your sorry’s. I want your obedience. A simple ‘yes sir’ will do.”

 

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