by Rose Garcia
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Wake up, I said over and over in my head. My eyes glued shut. My bones were heavy and stiff. My body jerked with the sensation of falling. My eyes flew open. I wasn’t on the couch anymore. Instead, I found myself standing in a dark place. The musty odor of earth and dirt surrounded me. My heart pounded. I groped around in front of me and tried to get my bearings.
"Dominique," a voice whispered.
My eyes and ears strained. My body covered in shivers. "Who’s there?"
A small beam of white light appeared in front of me and slowly grew bigger. I shielded my face, afraid of what it might be, every muscle ready for an attack.
"Dominique."
I lowered my hands and found myself in front of my mom and dad. We were in a cave. This was the same cave I had seen them in when Tavion’s Tracker had shown me their image. I grabbed my mom, hugged her tight, and buried my face in her shoulder. A trace of her floral perfume filled my senses.
"Oh, Dominique," she said, stroking my hair. "We’ve been trying for days to reach you."
Dad came up behind me and wrapped his arms around both of us. Here, in between them, I finally felt safe. Tears slid down my cheeks. "Is this real?" I asked. "Am I really here with you?"
Mom and Dad released me. Mom wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Yes," she said. "This is real."
I studied their battered and bruised faces. "Mom, Dad, what has he done to you?"
"Don’t worry about us," Dad said. "We’re fine. But Dominique, you must listen carefully. There’s not much time." He placed his hands on my shoulders. "You and Farrell need to know that Tavion—"
A crash of thunder boomed in my ear, vibrated straight through my body, and shook the ground beneath my feet. Mom and Dad vanished, and there in their place swirled a column of gray vapor. It stretched at least ten feet high and five feet wide as it whipped around in front of me like a tornado. Out stepped the Tracker who had found me at the Rice campus, the same Tracker who later told me that Tavion had my parents and asked for my surrender, the Tracker who looked like Farrell except he had black hair, not blonde.
"Sorry to break up your family reunion," the Tracker said.
My pulse raced. My heart quickened. "What do you want?"
"Want?" He got closer. "Just some alone time with you before your death, that’s all."
He tilted his head to the side, and studied me. "Did your Walker tell you about me?" he asked. "About who I really am?"
I continued backing up until I bumped into a rocky wall. Bits of rock landed on my shoulders. Who he really was? What was he talking about?
"So he hasn’t," the Tracker said. "Allow me to formally introduce myself." He bowed. "My name is Fleet. Your Walker and I are very close. We go way back."
My mind shouted for Farrell. In a flash, white lightening crackled through the air. Farrell appeared, his hands on Fleet’s neck, choking with his white aura trickling out of his fingers. Farrell flung Fleet away from me, and Fleet crashed onto the floor. Farrell grabbed my hand and pulled me close, as the Tracker got to his feet and dusted off his black pants.
"Walker, you know that’s not fair. Trackers can’t use force against fellow Transhumans after a surrender. But I guess you never were one to follow the rules, were you?"
Never one to follow the rules? My mind raced. Panic soared through my veins. How much did I really know about Farrell?
"Tracker, you are the one breaking the rules of surrender," Farrell said.
"Me? Break the rules? Never!" Fleet said. "Just ask the Marked One yourself. I never laid a hand on her. Isn’t that right, Marked One?"
I stayed silent.
"We are leaving, Tracker," Farrell said. "Stand back."
Fleet kept his eyes on Farrell before he smiled and stepped away. "As you wish," he said. He crossed his arms and stared at us while Farrell transported us away through the mist that trickled out of his hand and gathered at our feet.
We landed back home on the couch, Farrell on top of me. He got up quick. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Fleet’s words repeated in my head. Your Walker and I are very close. Never one to follow the rules. "Yeah, I’m fine," I answered. "You?"
"I’m good," he answered.
The dark sky had turned a light shade of gray. I must’ve been asleep for hours but it felt like only a few minutes.
"It’s almost morning," he said. "You should go back to sleep. You need as much rest as possible."
What? Go back to sleep? After everything Fleet had said? I grabbed Farrell’s arm. "You owe me an explanation."
"Dominique, do you trust me?"
Trust him? My parents had summoned him to protect me for nine lifetimes now. They wouldn’t have done that if he couldn’t be trusted. But everything Fleet had said raced through my mind. I didn’t want to doubt Farrell, but I couldn’t help myself. "Farrell, Fleet said that you and he went way back, that you didn’t follow the rules." I gulped. "What did he mean?"
Farrell ran his fingers through his hair. "Tavion can never be trusted. Neither can his Tracker. They’re liars, Dominique. And they’ll do anything to win this war—anything. The only thing we can do is be as prepared as possible. Our fates will be determined tonight at midnight."
As much as I wanted to believe him, a part of me stayed skeptical. But he was all I had, and I needed him. "Okay. I believe you," I whispered. I thought of my parents. "Farrell, I saw my parents. They had a warning about Tavion but couldn’t tell me because they vanished when Fleet appeared. But whatever it was, it was big. Big enough for them to summon me."
He continued pacing as he considered my words. "We just have to be ready," Farrell said. "At this point, that’s all we can do."
The gray sky outside had grown lighter. There was no way I could sleep anymore. My mind had overloaded. My nerves completely shot. Instead, Farrell and I spent the day preparing for our midnight confrontation with Tavion.
I practiced with the daggers for hours. I was still a little shaky with my left hand, but as the day faded into night, I finally got it. Quick and with both hands, I could whip out the daggers and place them at my palms. Over and over, with speed and precision, I had it down. I just hoped I could do it later when it counted.
At around ten, we stopped. Farrell handed me a bottle of water. "We need to talk about where we want to meet Tavion."
Water dribbled out of my mouth. I wiped it away. "What? We get to decide?"
"Yes," Farrell said. "That was one of my conditions of our surrender, don’t you remember?"
I thought back to that night at the Rice campus when Tavion’s Tracker, Fleet, had appeared. He showed me my parents, and then asked for my surrender. I remembered Farrell’s words. "Tell Tavion we’ll be ready for surrender in three days at the place of our choosing when the moon is at its peak."
"The place of our choosing," I muttered under my breath.
Immediately I thought of the beach. It always calmed me. If I was going to confront someone who wanted me dead, someone who had killed me in my prior lives, I wanted it to happen there. For some reason I thought I’d have a chance at the beach. Maybe there I wouldn’t die. Plus, I had never seen the ocean. This might be my only opportunity. I had to take it.
"Galveston Island," I said.
Farrell hesitated for a second. "Okay. Galveston it is."
"Wait, how will Tavion know the place?" I asked.
"Once you issued your surrender, he locked on your energy source," Farrell explained. "We just need to show up and he'll appear."
I imagined Tavion hovering over my house following my every move. There was no way to escape him, only to defeat him. I went upstairs to get ready. The night was cool, in the fifties, and it was sure to be cooler on the island. My stomach stayed tight, my nerves elevated while I slipped on a long sleeve black shirt and a black sweater. When I stood in front of the mirror to pull my hair up in a ponytail, I stopped because I hardly recognized myself. My pale face and sunken cheekbones reminded me of Ta
vion.
Who had I become?
My phone beeped, interrupting my train of thought. It was a text from Trent with two words—I’m sorry—the same two words he had texted me over and over all day. It was better for him if I didn’t respond, better for both of us. I got on my hands and knees and brought the snow globe out from under my bed where I had tossed it earlier. I held the round glass in my hands, shook it, and watched the snow come down.
Sorrow and despair descended on me while I studied the tiny town that reminded Trent of Elk Rapids. If only I could go back home to Michigan, make all of this go away, and be normal again. But there was no way.
I put the globe back on my nightstand. Would I ever see this room again? Or this house? I had no idea, but I would find out in less than two hours.
