Velocity (The Gravity Series)

by Boyd, Abigail

  Phillip was in deep discussion with his group. As I moved closer, my breath was taken away. He really did look so much like Henry. They could have almost been twins, except Phillip was taller and slightly more severe looking. My mother was gorgeous, but this version of her was alien to me, so there was less of an emotional tie. I’d never seen her like this except in pictures.

  “We gonna do this thing or what?” quizzed the impatient photographer, shifting in his high-tops.

  Phillip’s dark brown eyes glared at him. “Hold your horses, Bret.”

  Bret rolled his eyes and snapped bubble gum between his teeth.

  The young, glamorous Claire must have squeezed Phillip’s hand or something, because his expression softened, and he smiled down at her. His face looked weirdly loving, so much so that my blood ran cold. Phillip never loved you, I wanted to shout. He’s why you’re dead now. Claire just smiled back at him.

  “Yes, you can take the photo now,” Phillip said, much more graciously as he smiled at Bret. “Everyone join hands.”

  The group did so with swift, eerie synchronicity.

  “Is this actually what you cats do?” Bret asked, putting the camera up to his eye. He didn’t seem to notice how irritated Phillip was getting as he bit his bottom lip. The gesture was so familiar―Henry did it all the time―that my heart stopped for a second.

  “Yes, this is a spiritual group. We pray and speak of matters of the afterlife.”

  “Don’t know why you need a club to pray,” Bret continued. “My granny does just fine in church, but whatever. Smile big, pretty people.”

  Instead of smiling, they bowed their heads. Bret shook his head and snapped several photos anyway, his flash illuminating the moment even in the daytime. I started to feel a twisting sensation in my stomach, but I fought it. Now that I was here, I had to see more.

  “That’s all, folks. Good thing you didn’t break my camera.”

  “Shut up, or you’re getting a fist sandwich,” Bruce Slaughter growled, tightening his hands into fists. He was more bulldog than his son, his face square and a little stupid.

  “Can I get that on rye? A little mustard?” Bret snickered. Bruce took one step toward him and Bret stopped smiling. “Okay, chief. I’ll have these to Miss Kirkland. She’ll pick the best for the yearbook. Thanks.”

  Bret slung his camera strap over his shoulder and skittered away. The prayer group broke up again, watching Phillip and waiting for his next command, presumably.

  “Finally,” Phillip said, just a few feet away from me. “I didn’t think that little ass would ever leave.” He brushed off the shoulders of his button-down polo shirt, already dressed like a professional.

  “He’s not so bad,” Claire said softly in a gentle, clear voice.

  Cheryl, Henry’s future mother, came skipping up to Phillip. She stuck her chest out in her scoop neck top, her hair all feathered and blonde, like the sister from That 70’s Show. “I think the picture will turn out great, Phil.”

  Oh please. I rolled my eyes.

  “It’s going to look fantastic in the yearbook,” Cheryl continued. “You always look so handsome, like a model.”

  Claire was gaping at her and I didn’t blame her. Lainey Ford had nothing on Cheryl. Claire twisted her arm through her boyfriend’s. An amused smile touched his lips―he was obviously enjoying the attention.

  “Come on. Let’s go in so we can start the meeting, dear.” Phillip murmured.

  ‘Dear?’ That’s what Henry sometimes called me. The word sent a bucket of cold water rushing down the back of my neck. This was definitely creepy.

  I followed the group as it assembled in a chatty line and headed for the front doors of Old Hawthorne. I thought about what my father said, about how Henry would be like his father someday. What if he’s right?

  The inside of the school was definitely straight out of the seventies. McPherson would have been at home as the principal. Brown and orange was the predominant, tacky color scheme, and I figured that it must have been the school colors. Never thought I’d miss gold and purple.

  The way the group kept together and strutted like peacocks reminded me of how the popular kids in my time acted. Some things never change. People got out of their way so they could walk uninterrupted. There were a few high fives and attaboys as they went, and Claire said hello to girls along the way, but they didn’t stop their pace. Claire and Phillip led the group, holding hands, looking like the perfect golden couple while I walked beside them, invisible.

  Phillip held the door of a conference room open, and the rest of them filed inside. I quickly went with them as he shut the door. A sign reading “Shh! Please don’t break our concentration. Prayer group in session,” marked it as theirs for the afternoon.

  Chairs had been set up in a neat circle in the center of the room. The carpet was brown, and there was no other furniture, only neat wooden cabinets built along one wall. There weren’t even any windows. It was the perfect place for secrecy. I stood off to the side and watched them settle in, staying close enough to hear clearly. Claire bristled when Cheryl took the other place beside Phillip. Phil.

  His demeanor changed. Instead of mere arrogance and smugness, he now seemed commanding and cold. “Make sure the door is locked,” he said, snapping his fingers at Bruce. Although he’d never seemed like one to take orders, Bruce instantly scrambled up and checked the door.

  “Locked, boss.”

  Phillip nodded. “The fifteenth meeting of the spiritual club of Hawthorne, come to order,” he boomed in his authoritative voice.

  “Do we have to be so formal?” Claire complained.

  “Yes.” But his icy stare was directed toward the others. “Let’s skip the rest of the script, though. We need to talk about what’s going to happen with the rabbit.”

  My attention perked up, and I stepped closer. I felt that insistent twisty feeling in the pit of my belly again, and this time it was harder to ignore. I knew I didn’t have long before I was sent back where I came from.

  “He’s been a good pet,” Deana suddenly piped up. “Can’t we kill something else?”

  Phillip scoffed and stretched his legs. “It has to be something precious. Something you care about. That’s the whole point, that you be willing to kill something beloved to gain ascension. What are you going to do when it’s a person, instead of a stupid rabbit? You can get a new one, anyway. Rabbits screw constantly.”

  Deana was taken aback and sat meekly, slouching in her chair and staring at the floor. I almost felt bad for her.

  “I’m not crazy about the idea, either,” Claire mumbled, staring at Deana sympathetically.

  Phillip put his arm around her, another uncharacteristically loving gesture, and leaned in close so I had to read his lips. “Hush, now. You’ll be right beside me. This is going to change everything. We’ll realize power we never dreamed of.”

  Claire stared down at her hands, blushing since everyone had turned their attention to her. “I don’t know if power is that important to me.”

  Phillip’s face twisted into a scowl. “You’re just saying that. When the time comes, you’ll thank me.”

  He sat back up, addressing the entire group.

  “From what I’ve read,” Phillip continued, “We need the flowing blood to hit the seal. That will bring the Dark energy forth. I will be standing by, to take it upon myself.”

  “Have you figured out where Dexter went wrong?” Rachel Reed piped up. It as the first time I noticed her, sitting in a gray dress with moppy blonde hair on one of the chairs.

  “He allowed those around his to betray him,” Phillip said. “Which is why loyalty is so important.”

  Claire appeared to swallow hair, looking at her hands.

  I tried to grip the world around me, like a skydiver trying to grip the sides of an airplane door while they’re being sucked out. But the black bloomed in my eyes.

  “And if you fail?” One of the boys questioned.

  “I won’t,” Phillip s
aid coldly.

  That was it, I couldn’t hold on any longer. It was like a rubber band snapped, and I was shot upwards. I watched them shrink below me and disappear as the blackness flowed around me.

  Then I opened my eyes.

  CHAPTER 6

  “SHE’S BACK,” LUCY breathed. She was sitting on her knees beside me, white as a bleached sheet. Hugh was up, arguing with Luke, poking his pointer finger into the priest’s chest. I was disoriented, but I took in the scene. Hugh shot his glance to me, running his hand through his already ruffled hair. His eyes were fearful. Even Theo looked pale and scared, crouching beside me.

  “Did you guys see a ghost?” I tried with one of my lame jokes as I sat up. The grounding stone slipped off my chest and onto my lap. I’d forgotten for a moment it was there.

  “Why did you have to inherit my terrible sense of humor?” Hugh asked, but he was staring at me with worried relief.

  “Luck, I guess.”

  It took me a minute to gain my bearings, like waking out of deep sleep, but otherwise I felt fine. Definitely not like the harsh after effects I’d gotten when I’d worn my grandmother’s necklace to walk in Dark. Everyone was still watching me.

  “We’re not doing that again,” Hugh said firmly, helping me to my feet.

  “Why?” I protested, eager to start telling him what I’d seen. “Why are you getting so upset with Luke?”

  Luke himself seemed to be in shock, staring at me in awe. “It took Marnie such a long time. You dropped right away.”

  “You were pale, barely breathing, and your heart rate slowed down,” Hugh stated. “Lucy checked your pulse and it was down to sixty beats a minute.”

  “How long was I out?” I asked, glancing at the numerous clocks.

  “Seven, eight minutes,” Theo piped up.

  “How can that be? I felt like I was there for almost an hour.”

  They all just looked at me. The tension in the air sizzled.

  “Time seems to slow down when you are in the past,” Luke explained. “At least, that’s what it always seemed like. For each minute that passes here, you can relive ten minutes.”

  “What did you see?” Lucy quizzed.

  “It doesn’t matter what she saw,” Hugh barked, stepping forward. “It’s too dangerous. We’re just going to run.”

  “What? Dad, no.” I said, jumping to my feet. “I saw mom.”

  That seemed to bring him back to his senses. He turned and stared at me, his hazel eyes softening. “What?”

  I smiled at him. “Yeah. I saw the prayer group, all of them. When they were talking about killing the rabbit.”

  “But you looked like you were dead,” Theo argued, pushing her red hair back. “You just went away.”

  “But I came back. And I feel totally fine.”

  I didn’t feel the rush of power I’d felt with the necklace, but the rush of information was just as intoxicating.

  Lucy and Hugh looked at each other, and then he nodded slowly. “Okay. We won’t give up on it. But no more attempts until I get Callie to sit by and assess your physical state. I don’t want any accidents. If there is any sign of trouble, we’ll stop.”

  I agreed, despite the fact that I wanted to tell him there was no danger. I was eager to get back and finish what I’d started, but he was already gathering our coats.

  “Are you taking off so soon?” Luke asked, following us out to the hall.

  Hugh nodded, helping me into my coat. “We have a long drive back.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had guests,” Luke said. “This is a big house for one man, especially one as solitary as myself. And there is more to be gleaned here. The occult store that sold Marnie the grounding stone is still around. I’m sure the proprietor is different, but you might get more answers there.”

  “What do you say?” Hugh asked Lucy. “Are you willing to hang out?”

  She nodded. “My neighbor is feeding my cats. This is the most exciting thing I’ve been involved with since Theo was born. If it’s okay with the girls, I’ll be happy to tag along.”

  Theo and I agreed that we weren’t in a hurry to rush back.

  Luke put us up for the night in his house. The five of us played a strangely normal game of Monopoly and Luke made us biscuits and gravy.

  When everyone else had fallen asleep, I lay awake with my hands on my stomach, listening to the sounds the house made, and Theo’s even breathing. We were sleeping in his study: me on a fold out mattress and Theo a futon.

  The grounding stone could provide so many possibilities, but I would have to be careful about resisting the temptation of seeing things that would only hurt me. I couldn’t change the past, no matter how much I wanted to.

  I still couldn’t get over how much Phillip had looked like Henry. The bristling feeling of unease appeared whenever I thought about their similarities―how he’d called Claire ‘dear’ or the darkening of his brown eyes.

  I scooped up the phone again and quickly hit Henry’s name. Why no answer? I asked him. Did something happen? Talk to me.

  After a few seconds, the phone vibrated. I picked it up eagerly, but my blood ran cold when I saw it. A grainy self-shot of Roger, Cheryl Rhodes’ assistant, was on the screen. His creepy face leered at me. I dropped the phone with a rush of fear.

  The next day, Luke showed us out at the door, bidding us goodbye. He’d given us directions to the shop.

  “May God bless you,” he said, shaking both Hugh and Lucy’s hands again. He tilted his head at my father. “I wish you luck, as well. You’re going to need it, you know.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  ###

  The Blue Moon Shop was set amongst a row of businesses in the small town area, much like Erasmus at home. An ‘open’ sign hung crookedly in the window. It was dusty and dark inside. Shelves containing glass jars full of spices, mushrooms, and dried artifacts lined one wall. There were pots of exotic looking dried flowers, rows of books, and a rack of crystal balls and tarot cards.

  “Corinne is going to be pissed that she missed this,” I muttered. Theo laughed a little, and it was a good sound.

  A woman wearing a flowing black dress dotted with silver symbols stood behind the counter. Fuzzy gray hair peaked out beneath the flowered scarf wrapped on her head, and a waterfall of beads fell from her neck.

  “May I help you?” she called.

  She caught my eye and held it. As we moved closer, she didn’t stop staring at me.

  “Your store was recommended to us by a friend,” Hugh explained. He showed her the grounding stone. “His sister bought this stone here many years back. I know it was a long time ago, but we hoped maybe you could tell us more about it.”

  “It’s a grounding stone,” she said immediately, her violet eyes finally tearing away from me. Her scrutiny was making me anxious.

  “She was giving you the laser eye,” Theo whispered as we joined Hugh. I was glad I hadn’t been the only one to notice.

  “We already know about that,” Hugh said. “He told us you might have more information on what to do with it, and possibly the spirit worlds.”

  The woman held two fingers to her temple and shut her eyes, her other hand closing around the grounding stone.

  “My mother gave this to a young girl with sad eyes,” she said. “Spirits were following her around. She’s a spirit now.”

  The woman tossed back the grounding stone like it had been touched by the plague. She was elegant, but ancient-looking, her coy smile lined with wrinkles. There was something just a little weird about her. She came around the counter towards me.

  I stepped back on instinct as her churning purple eyes pierced into mine.

  “You have powerful blood running through you,” she said.

  “She has the Sight,” Hugh said.

  The woman waved her hand dismissively at him. “Of course.” Like it was no big deal. “But her Sight is more powerful than the others. She has been touched by the hand of fate.”

&n
bsp; Her hand stroked my face, and I winced at the dry skin of her touch. The way that she looked at me was intimate, like she could see inside me. It was intense and not very pleasant, but she kept her eyes locked with mine. She opened my fingers and glanced at my palm, tracing the lines with one fingertip.

  “You have a fierce battle ahead of you,” she said, and I suddenly felt like we were alone together, as though she’d pulled me into a trance. “Wrongs to be set right. Old grudges to put to rest. You must settle the score.”

  Then she pulled back and spoke to the others. I gasped as I realized how lightheaded I felt. “Come in the back, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

  Turning the front sign to closed, she brought us to her back room. I was expecting something turn of the century like the priest’s cottage, but instead, it was an ultra modern room decorated in black and white furniture. A big laptop was charging on a marble counter with an iPhone sitting next to it. I almost giggled.

  The woman’s violet eyes looked even more intense under this bright light. She had us sit down at the table as she took the head seat. Small braids were twisted through her hair, tied off with tiny pieces of hemp twine.

  She started to lay out a deck of tarot cards in front of us. “There are worlds other than ours. Worlds in which the spirits and the creatures walk,” she began. She slapped the cards on the table one by one. I knew of what she spoke, but I wanted the others to hear. “There is Dark, which is inhabited by cursed spirits and shadows. There is Limbo, where the restless dead shuffle along, caught in a pale remembrance of their lives.”

  She stared at the cards, tilting her head back and forth, then slid them together and shuffled again. A thought occurred to me.

  “This is probably a crazy question, but have you ever read a book called Other Worlds?” I attempted.

  Her piercing, uncomfortable gaze was directed at me again. “Yes. Only a few copies were published.”

  “What book?” Hugh asked, looking lost.