by Toni Kerr
“I was following your falcon,” Landon continued, breaking the awkward silence. “It is the same one, isn’t it?”
Tristan looked for the bird, but it had flown away. He nodded, seeing it as a sign that Landon could be trusted. “Do I have to stay in Darnell?”
“Why would you want to go?” Landon studied Tristan, his face tightening to a serious frown. Only then did Tristan notice how torn up his arms had become, caked with dried blood. “What happened?”
“I’m not doing well here.” His voice trembled. He focused on the last place he’d seen the falcon, hoping Landon wouldn’t hear so much weakness in his voice. “I like Shaely and Angelina and Eleonora, and you guys of course, but I just can’t handle things. I don’t know where to go, but there’s no way I can stay.”
“We wouldn’t force you to stay against your will, but...don’t you like the cabin?”
“It’s not the cabin. It’s Donovan.” There was no other way to explain.
“There was a meeting this morning. Donovan resigned.”
“Good riddance.”
“What happened?”
“I can’t remember—” The tears he’d been holding back finally ran down his cheeks. Who cared if Landon thought he was a big crybaby?
He sat down and wrapped his arms around his knees.
“One minute we were all staring at the fire, he was talking about who knows what, and the next thing I know, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t ask why. I don’t know what he did, but something’s seriously wrong in my head. I can’t see straight or think straight. Every single little memory keeps popping up in my head, things I’d forgotten...I didn’t know half of it existed.”
Landon glanced across the creek, then back to Tristan.
“He wanted me to learn something. But I—I learned I could’ve prevented my father’s death. I would have had an entirely different life if I would’ve said something. It’s my fault he’s dead. What was the point of making me remember that?”
Landon stared wide-eyed and speechless.
“My mother told me exactly how things were about to change. My father had plans to take me away from her. She must have figured out he was leaving. I knew there’d be something wrong with the car and I was too self-centered to follow it though and say something.
“You were a baby,” Landon said. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”
“If I’d used words, he would’ve believed me. But I kept my mouth shut! Why didn’t I speak?” Tristan clenched his tangled hair in his fists. “Something’s wrong with me. I see things that look real, over and over, and even though I know they happened a long time ago, I can’t be sure what the current reality is. But my dad...he should be alive, not me.”
“You can’t hold yourself responsible for him. You were too young.”
“I know it’s not logical, I really do. That’s why I’m jumping.”
“Jump? Now? You can’t swim.”
“I drowned when I was young.” Tristan looked up at Landon, willing him to see his pain and torment. “I remember the silence. Peaceful and calm. That’s all I want—peace. And I believe it’s in the water with every fiber of my being.”
Landon shook his head. His mouth opened, but no words came.
“I can help you.”
Tristan spun to his feet, facing the dark voice of his nightmares. Donovan. “No way.” He shook his head, backing toward the cliff.
“I can’t do it, Tristan,” Landon said. “Whatever’s going on is definitely beyond what I know.”
“It will be done quickly,” Donovan said.
“No.” Tristan glanced behind him to judge the distance to the cliff. He only had four, maybe five feet to go. “I won’t let you!” Tristan looked to Landon for protection, feeling small and childish for his cowardly behavior. “He can’t do this, can he?” The same suffocating pressure squeezed his body, dropping him breathless to his knees.
Tristan squeezed his eyes shut. How could he fight something he couldn’t see? He inched his way toward the edge of the cliff, determined to end his suffering on his own terms, shielding himself with everything he could think of.
Steel, fire, ice, concrete a mile thick.
“Keep him still,” Donovan ordered.
Tristan locked eyes with Landon. Whose side would he choose? His heart sank with the realization. Landon owed Donovan much more than he owed him. Tristan turned away, lunging for the cliff as Landon grabbed hold of him from behind, wrapping his arms around his chest.
“I’m sorry, Tristan. I’m not betraying you, I promise.”
Tristan fought harder to break Landon’s restraining hold.
He’d never survive anywhere if he couldn’t trust anyone. Even the falcon had led him to believe Landon was trustworthy. “Don’t let him do this.” Boulders fell over his head. He knew it was just a memory, but his need to survive kicked in and he screamed, almost breaking free.
“Fight him, Landon,” Donovan demanded. “Knowing his emotions doesn’t make them yours.”
“You don’t understand!” Tristan stopped struggling, his strength and will to fight depleting by the second. “I can’t take this craziness anymore. Let me go already, or just kill me and get it over with.”
“Close your eyes,” Landon said. “I won’t leave you.”
Tristan squeezed his eyes shut, determined to keep his shields strong. All the tension seemed to melt into the ground, or into Landon, he wasn’t sure which.
“It’s why I’m leaving,” Donovan said.
“He’s been like this all night?”
“Perhaps. He did something I didn’t expect, and it got out of control.”
“So you did this to him on purpose?”
“Something about him brings forth an aggressive instinct that I can’t explain. I felt it at Alvi’s little gathering and when he arrived for class. Even now. The only thing keeping him alive is the fact that I promised Alpheus I wouldn’t kill him without consent. But I’m telling you, he’s hiding something in that guise of naive innocence, and I must say it’s hidden well....
“In my quest to unravel this strange quality about him, I merely added myself to the list of unfortunate experiences. I’ve lost a certain perspective with you young people and for that, I am truly sorry. But this, I did not consider this sort of ongoing reaction to my investigation.”
“We can relocate him,” Landon said, tightening his grip around Tristan’s arms and chest.
“It’s better for everyone if he remains here. I’ll simply stay away from him. He won’t remember what happened.”
Tristan felt the poncho cover him like a blanket and relaxed against the instant warmth of it, suddenly uninterested in the conversation and mentally drifting away.
“But...what if all these memory wipes are making him less stable? How many times—”
“I’m merely putting memories where he won’t find them.”
“Won’t he wonder about all these cuts and scrapes? How can we hide—” Landon stopped speaking. The only thing remaining on Tristan’s flesh was dried blood; the wounds had healed. “How can that be?”
“It gets more interesting than that. I swear his skull cracked, along with a few ribs. Yet, I find no evidence of that fact.”
They both remained silent for a brief time. Tristan couldn’t open his eyes.
“How long will you be gone?”
“As long as required. One more thing. There’s a boy I need you to research. Jessie had him cornered until Tristan came along. He’s watching us now, standing by the creek at the tree line.”
Tristan felt Landon’s body shift toward the creek. Not the boy! He’d hoped the child had been able to get away, but now he was in more danger than ever.
Tristan tried to fight, but not one single muscle would twitch.
“Tristan is not permitted to leave these grounds without an escort. Take him home and convince him to stay if he remembers the desire to flee. And while I would always caution you against fully trusting an
yone, he could use a friend.”
An icy grip cooled his cheeks, words echoed in his head. A command. Open your eyes.
Tristan’s eyelids fluttered open against his will, locking on eyes with blue-brown streaks that mirrored his own. You will not recall anything from meeting Travis and Henry on the trail to right this second. History class is cancelled.
16
- THE TRUTH HURTS -
SOMETHING RAPPED AGAINST Tristan’s door. His eyes opened halfway and the resemblance of “come in” fell from his lips, flat against his pillow.
When the knocking grew more impatient, he shuffled toward the door, keeping the thick blanket wrapped around himself, wondering why Landon and Victor couldn’t just make his life easy and let themselves in.
He shaded his eyes from the full force of daylight, surprised to see a woman standing on his porch. He stared with a vacant expression until her name popped into his head: Angelina.
“Hi,” Tristan said, unsure why she would come to his house, embarrassed he couldn’t think of her name sooner. He took a step back, opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”
“I only have a minute.” Angelina scowled at him. “You haven’t been asleep all day, have you?”
Tristan pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He didn’t dare test the state of his hair. “I’m—” His mind went blank and he leaned out of reach when she attempted to feel his forehead.
“You missed class—I’ve just come from there.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Did you at least do your homework before staying out all night?”
Was he out all night? “Homework. Yes.” Tristan made his way to the table with the blanket dragging behind him, glad he could at least remember where he left the crayon drawing. He handed over the scene of what Darnell might’ve looked like in its prime, centered on one building.
Angelina studied the page for several uncomfortable moments. “May I keep it?”
Tristan shrugged, unable to determine if she approved or not. Did it matter? Maybe he should have done all the buildings instead of just the one. Still, the building itself was dang good considering the materials he’d been given.
“I assume you’ll be in class tomorrow?”
“Sure.” He watched her rush toward Eleonora’s, tucking the page into her handbag. Only then did he notice someone had cleared the trail for him.
He lay back down, sinking into another black oblivion. It seemed like no time had passed at all when someone started banging on the door again.
“Go away,” Tristan grumbled from under his pillow, wondering if he’d earned a hangover by drinking again.
The door opened and Victor stepped in, followed by Landon. “Rise and shine, little camper, we’re playing today.”
Tristan pulled his pillow back over his head and groaned. “I’m not awake.”
“You’ve seriously slept long enough,” Landon said irritably. “We’ve given you two full days to get caught up.”
“Two days?”
“Yes. Get in the shower and Victor will make you breakfast.”
Victor took the pillow away from Tristan’s head and tossed it to the foot of the bed. “It’s almost noon. Get up!”
Tristan dragged himself to the shower, quickening his pace when he remembered he had class. Had he missed a second time? Maybe he’d only dreamt about Angelina coming for his homework after the first missed class.
A tall glass of water, a mug of hot chocolate, and a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage waited for him at the table. “I can’t go out, I have class.”
“It’s the weekend. No classes ‘til Monday.”
“Oh.” Tristan poked at his eggs. As much as he wanted to stay in bed, he wanted to go to class, and wondered if Shaely would meet him on a regular basis. Would her brother always come along? If he missed her twice already, maybe she wouldn’t be back at all.
“You need to eat, Tristan,” Landon said. “Even if you don’t feel like it.”
“I know. I’m just...off.” Tristan took a bite and marveled at the mouthwatering sensation. “I don’t remember food tasting so good.”
Victor laughed. “Depends on what you’re used to, I guess. I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“We’re hiking up the mountain to do some fishing. I have flies and poles, Victor has all the food taken care of. We could even make it an overnighter if you want. Just the three of us.”
“Sounds great.” Maybe food really was all he needed. He finished his plate and put on the poncho.
“If we decide to camp, we can pop back for extra clothes. That way we won’t have to carry the weight.”
Just as Tristan opened the front door to go, three men were stepping onto the porch. Landon and Victor froze.
“Don’t tell us you were trying to sneak him away...,” one of the men stated. “You knew we wanted to question him.”
Tristan glanced from the men standing on his porch to Landon and Victor, deciding to keep his mouth shut.
Two of the men were wearing dark gray suits, the third had a dark blue, collared shirt with tan slacks.
“You didn’t say when,” Victor said. “We had the day off, so we thought we’d have some fun. You know how it is—gotta take advantage of time when it’s available.”
“We’ll ask our questions and if he still has available time, you can do whatever you want with him.”
Tristan glanced at Victor, unable to read any clues in the look he was giving.
“Go ahead,” Victor finally said. “Get it over with.”
Landon sighed and took a step back, allowing the men entry.
“Don’t worry, kid. Just a few quick questions.”
Tristan let them in, then yelped as the final man hit his arm. It wasn’t a friendly gesture, but a pinprick of something that penetrated his skin through the poncho.
The colors in the room brightened as Victor tackled the man, both slamming against the door.
Tristan rubbed at the burn spreading in his arm, blinking in what seemed like slow motion.
The second man pulled a gun on Landon, who seemed focused on the first man.
“Tristan is under our protection,” Landon said in a flat tone. “You all know that.”
“He’s involved in a local matter, we have every right.”
“Not to drug him, you don’t. Name your time and place and we’ll make sure he’s there.”
“Are you afraid he’s guilty, or that he might spill some secrets?”
“He’s not guilty and I won’t allow him to answer any questions while under the influence of your serum.”
Tristan opened his mouth and shut it when Landon glared at him.
“You put your gun away and I’ll put my knife away,” Victor said, holding a long blade at the third man’s throat.
“How ‘bout this,” said the man with the gun. “I’ll ask questions one at a time, and if you agree it’s relevant to our case, he can answer. If you decide he shouldn’t answer a certain question, we’ll set a date for a more formal, supervised questioning.”
“Why not arrange formal questioning in the first place?” Landon asked.
“We just want information right now, we’re not pointing any fingers.”
Tristan watched Landon and Victor, probably as they discussed the situation mentally. “Questions about what?” he finally asked.
“Murder.”
Tristan felt the blood drain from his face, adding to the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It was an accident, I swear.”
“Tristan,” Landon said quickly. “This has nothing to do with Ireland. Got it?”
Tristan almost shook his head. What else could it be about, if it was about murder?
“Don’t answer any question unless I say it’s okay, understand?”
Tristan nodded, then stepped back as Victor released the man and put his knife away.
“My name is Jared. How do you feel?” asked the man after he put his gun away. He lowe
red himself onto the couch and pulled a small notebook from his suit jacket.
Tristan looked at Landon, who nodded. “Terrible.”
“The serum should only last about fifteen minutes. Do you know Stanley Patterson?”
Landon nodded.
“I know a Stanley. He was on my team at the party.... That Stanley?” Tristan glanced at Victor, who nodded once.
“Was that the last time you saw him?”
Landon seemed to think about that one, then nodded.
“I saw him on my first day of class. He was, apparently, there to guard me. Or to put it better, he was there to guard everyone from me.”
“And that would’ve made you angry—”
“I don’t want to be guarded—”
“Stop,” Landon said. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“It’s the truth!” Tristan said. “I didn’t know I wasn’t trusted and that parents would have issues over the safety of their children. Someone should’ve mentioned it.” Tristan glared at Landon, then reigned in his anger. “I’m not happy about it, but I can understand the need.”
Jared nodded. “We heard Stanley had to intervene with you and...what is her name?”
“Her name isn’t relevant,” Landon said quickly.
“We want to contact everyone who was in the clearing that day.”
“I’ll think about it,” Landon said.
“He thought I was going to get into it with her brother, but I wasn’t.”
“So you fought Stanley instead?”
“No! I was mad that he thought I’d attack someone, but he was just doing his job. He even agreed the guy was a jerk.”
The man looked skeptical, tapping a pencil against the notebook. “Those were his exact words?”
“No. He said the guy was an ass, but I had to be careful about responding because I was on probation. I can respect him for that.”
“Did you have anything to do with the theft of Victor’s tracker?”
Tristan glanced at Victor. “It was stolen?”
“The tracker isn’t relevant,” Landon said.
“It is if Stanley was onto him. Maybe he caught him with the goods?”
“Wait, I thought you said this was about murder.”
