by Rose Garcia
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I remember late one night watching TV and flipping through the channels, stumbling upon the movie Psycho. It was the part where that weird dude stabs a woman in the shower over and over and her blood mixes with the water and swirls around the bottom of the tub. Well, that was me, except I had survived my attack. All that remained were my wounds and the mixture of his blood and mine that ran down my skin while I stood in the hot shower.
It was December twenty-seventh. My eighteenth birthday was January third, just a week away. I had just defeated the Tainted who had hunted me down and killed me in my eight prior lives. Even though I had finally beaten him, I didn’t feel like the winner. I had lost too much in the process, had caused the death of too many people. More than that, I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
My body shivered from the now cold water. I turned it off, stepped out, and wrapped myself in a towel. Even though it was soft and fluffy I flinched with every touch, especially at my ankles that were cut and raw and my right palm that I had gashed open. Farrell had offered to heal them, but I refused. The pain reminded me that everything I had been through was real. I needed that reminder. And then I wondered about my birthmark. I stood in front of the mirror, lifted my hair, and craned my neck. After everything that had happened, it was still there.
I grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing. It had to come off, it just had to, but it didn’t. A knock at the bathroom door stopped me from rubbing my skin completely raw.
"Dominique, it’s Mom. Are you okay?"
I threw the rag in the sink. "Yeah, I’m fine." Slow and steady, I wrapped the towel around my body.
"Good. Can you please come downstairs when you’re finished?"
Please come downstairs when you’re finished means we need to talk, which was fine by me because I needed answers. What would happen to Farrell now that Tavion was dead? Did Mom and Dad expect me to ease back into school as if nothing had happened? And what about Trent? Would he really not remember me dying and then coming back to life after he touched my cross? My cross! My hands shot to my neck. It was gone. And then I remembered putting it in Trent’s hand right before he vanished. He must still have it. At least, I hoped he did.
"Dominique, can you hear me? We need you to come downstairs."
"Yeah, sorry, I’ll be there in a few minutes."
Drying my body, pulling my hair up in a ponytail, and getting dressed with all my cuts and bruises took longer than I thought. After about thirty minutes or so, I went downstairs. Mom, Dad, and Farrell sat at the kitchen table. Other than the crackling from the double-sided fireplace, the room was quiet. Too quiet. My body tensed. I took a seat on the stool by the kitchen island.
"Dominique," Dad said, "we’re leaving Houston."
My mouth fell open. "What do you mean, leaving?"
Mom shifted in her chair. "Tavion may be dead," she explained, "but in order to assure your safety, we’ve decided to leave Houston and go back to Michigan."
The crackling fire popped. Faraway I heard a police siren. A chill settled in my bones. "What do you mean, assure my safety?" Panic started building inside me. "You’re not saying that I’m still in danger are you? I mean Tavion is dead, right?" My hand went to the back of my neck at the mark that remained.
"Yes, he’s dead," Farrell said. "We’re only relocating to be on the safe side." He tilted his head and studied my face. "You did want to go back home to Michigan, didn’t you?"
Yes, I definitely wanted to go back, but not like this. What would happen to Infiniti? I broke eye contact with Farrell. And what would happen to Trent?
"But we’ve already sold our house back there. Where will we go?" I asked.
"Your mother and I have been preparing for this day and have established a safe house up north on the Boardman River. In fact, that’s where we were going when we were captured."
"The Boardman River by Elk Rapids? Why not just go back to Elk Rapids?"
Dad walked to the armoire in the den. He came back with the picture of him and mom with their college friends. They stood in front of a cabin they went to every summer, arms linked and faces smiling. There were five people in the picture: Mom, Dad, a petite woman with freckles and short red hair, a tall guy with a long nose and stringy brown hair that tucked over his ears, and Ms. Ryken. Dad pointed at the people. "You know Colleen, and that’s Richard and Sue. Richard and Sue own the cabin in the picture. It’s right on the Boardman River."
"They’re Pures, just like us," Mom said. "They’ve been preparing for this day, too. They’ve shielded the entire area, and they’re ready for us."
Richard and Sue looked happy, all of them did, even Colleen who belonged in a fashion magazine with her long black hair and perfectly cut bangs. And of course, they all had true green eyes—all Pures did.
"So where’s Colleen?" I asked.
"We’re not sure," Dad said. "She disappears from time to time, working on…other things."
Before I could ask what he meant by other things, Mom went on. "Dominique, when we leave we’ll tell everyone that we’re taking you to San Antonio for your birthday. We must cut all ties here. There can be no link to us."
"It will appear as if we crashed, and none of us survived," Dad said. "It’s the only way to make sure we’re safe. Including those we leave behind."
Crashed and died…just like Veronica. My stomach clenched tight. How could I make Infiniti go through the death of another friend? How could I do that to her? I didn’t even notice Mom’s hand on mine until she spoke. "I’m so sorry, Dominique. But we have to do it this way. We leave in one hour."
Back in my room, I stared out the window, almost in a trance. It was barely eight in the morning. The sun had no chance of peeking through the thick gray clouds, and I thought it might even rain. I placed my palms against the window. The cold glass felt good against my cuts. I dropped my hands and thought of the temperature back home. Here it was probably in the fifties, back home in the teens.
Like a robot, I started packing. If I concentrated on my actions, then I wouldn’t think about the consequences of faking our deaths and the impact it would have on the people who cared for us. And then my phone beeped. I wanted it to be Trent. Instead, it was a text from Infiniti.
U up? Wanna go 4 a walk around the lake?
This was it—my chance to say goodbye to my one true friend in Houston.
K. Meet u outside in 5.
I put on a jacket and went outside. Infiniti practically skipped down the sidewalk to meet me. Her big wavy hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore jean shorts and an A&M sweatshirt. "Guess what?" she asked in her sing-songy voice.
We walked across the street and to the lake. "What?"
"I got into A&M!"
The air smelled of rain, but there were no drops yet. I tried my best to put on a happy face. “That’s great, Infiniti!”
With a spring in her step, she continued down the jogging trail. "You know, things are turning around, Dominique. I got into a choice school, my mom is being super cool right now, I’ve stopped smoking, and things with Billy are going great! This new year is gonna be my year! I can feel it!"
Hearing how happy she was made me feel better. Maybe leaving her behind wouldn’t be so bad after all, and she’d be okay.
She stopped. "You know I could’ve never done this without you."
Remorse rippled through me. She had no idea the danger I had put her in. No idea the depth of sorrow still to come. "What do you mean?"
"I could’ve never gotten through the deaths of Veronica and Jan without you being there for me. You’re my best friend, Dominique. Even if we go to separate colleges, we’ll always be best friends."
A massive lump lodged in my throat. I cleared my throat. "Yeah, best friends."
Infiniti did most of the talking while we walked the mile path around the lake. I nodded here and there, but mostly bit the inside of my cheek as I forced myself not to lose it, guilt escalating with each step.
I felt like shit.
The quiet house echoed my sadness as I went back to my room, sat on my bed, and stared at my ocean-colored walls. Droplets of water started hitting my window. Usually I liked the rain, but not today. It reminded me of the tears I held inside, tears I fought hard to bury inside. My gaze landed on my snow globe. I picked it up and held it tight.
"Go to him," Farrell whispered.
He stood just outside my door and I wondered how long he’d been there.
"What?" I asked.
"Go. Say your goodbyes." He buried his hands in his pockets.
Here he was, someone who had loved me for eight lifetimes, now nine, telling me to say goodbye to a guy he knew I cared about. My guilt magnified. Even though I couldn’t figure out my feelings for Farrell this lifetime, it was clear that I once had strong emotions for him, but not as strong as the ones I had for Trent.
"Farrell, are you sure?"
"Yes," he said.
I put the snow globe down. "Farrell, it doesn’t mean—"
He raised his hand. "I know."
Before either one of us could change our minds, I left. The rain came down steady as I drove to Trent’s. My palms were sweaty. My heart raced. When I got to his house, I was relieved to see his car in the driveway. I turned off the ignition to collect my thoughts for a minute. Farrell had erased his memory, but how far back did he go? I had no idea, but I had to see him.
I opened the car door and ran to his house. My body shivered from the cold rain. Before I could lose my nerve, I rang the doorbell. I heard footsteps approach the door then stop. The fact that he paused couldn’t be a good sign. My heart sank. He opened the door with a stone-cold look on his face. I instantly regretted being there.
"Hey, Trent. Sorry to come by so early. I’m, uh, leaving out of town for a few days, so I thought I’d come by and, uh, see you, and say goodbye."
His silence made me uneasy. His eyes were distant. "Last time you were here you gave me my Rice sweatshirt and told me we should stop hanging out. And now you’re here to tell me that you’re going out of town?"
So, that’s the last thing he remembered. I felt like an idiot. "Well, yeah, I guess—"
"Here," he said. He handed me the bloodstone cross, the cross he had touched that had saved my life. "You must’ve dropped this when you were here last, and for some crazy reason my grandmother still wants you to have it."
I was almost afraid to take it, but let him drop it into my hand.
"Have a safe trip," he said. He slammed the door in my face.
I walked back to my car through the rain, my heart aching while tears welled up in my eyes. My vision blurred. I reached down to open my car door when a hand grabbed my arm. It was Trent, pulling me around to face him. We stood there, eyes locked, the rain coming down on us. He stared searchingly at me with his deep blue eyes that always made me weak at the knees.
"Why did you come here?" he asked.
"I…I…had to see you, Trent. I had to…see you…just one last time."
He stepped close, wrapped his hands around the back of my neck, and pulled me to him. Our lips connected softly once, and then again and again and again. Each time our lips met, they lingered a little longer. Our bodies were wet with rain and desire as our kiss turned passionate and our bodies pressed hard against each other. Our tongues explored every inch of the other’s mouth—over and over, neither one of us wanting to stop.
Finally, our kiss ended. His hands still wrapped around my neck and mine around his waist as we both tried to catch our breath. I cupped his face and studied every inch, sketching it forever in my memory.
"Good bye, Trent."
Before he could say anything, I turned, got in the car, and drove away without looking back.
When I got home, I went upstairs, changed clothes, and sat on my bed, ready to leave. I took one last look at my ocean-colored room. I thought of everything that had happened to me here in this town and the people who had made an impact on me—Infiniti, Veronica, Jan and Abigail. Lastly, I thought of Trent.
I took my snow globe and traced its cool glass with my fingertips. The town inside looked so peaceful—nothing like my life now. And even though I had wanted to go back home since moving, I didn’t want it to be like this.
"You ready?" Farrell asked from the door. He saw the globe in my hands. Hurt flashed across his face before he looked away from me. I guess I couldn’t blame him.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
Before I put the globe back on my nightstand, I shook it. Snow covered the tiny town. Soon I’d be back in the snow, too. And even though it hurt to leave, I knew it was the right thing to do. I looked back at my room, my eyes lingering for a moment on everything I was leaving behind before I slowly shut the door.
THE END
Note from the author:
Thank you so much for taking the time to read Final Life! If you enjoyed the story, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book, too.
Lend it. This e-book is lending –enabled, so please share it with a friend.
Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to your friends, readers’ groups, and discussion boards.
Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it at Amazon and/or Goodreads.
If you do write a review, please email me at [email protected]. I’d like to personally thank you.
Once again, thanks for reading Final Life!
Coming this winter... Book Two in the Transhuman Chronicles
About the Author:
Rose Garcia is a lawyer turned writer who’s always been fascinated by science fiction and fantasy. From a very young age, she often had her nose buried in books about other-worlds, fantastical creatures, and life and death situations. More recently she’s been intrigued by a blend of science fiction and reality, and the idea that some supernatural events are, indeed, very real. Fueled by her imagination, she created The Transhuman Chronicles—a series of books about people who have overcome human limitations. Rose lives in Houston with her husband and two kids. You can visit Rose at www.rosegarciabooks.com. Check her out on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads!
Acknowledgments:
The most important thing about having a dream, is having people who believe in you. And so it is with my amazing family. They stood behind me and encouraged me every step of the way as I moved forward with my goal of being a published author. To Wade—thank you for listening to my ideas and helping me come up with creative solutions when my imagination ran dry. To Olivia—thank you for giving me your teen perspective when I needed it. To Jake—thank you for asking me how I was doing with my writing and when I’d be finished. You guys have always lifted me up, and I love you very much!
To my fellow YA/MG founding members. Wow—where do I begin? First, thank you Mary Lindsey. I found you on Twitter, met up with you at a café, and you gave me advice when I desperately needed a mentor. To Jessica Capelle and Iona McAvoy, you guys rock! Your encouragement and belief held me up when I wanted to fall down. Thank you guys so much!
To Rachel Harris, my guardian angel. After experiencing the loss of my mother-in-law, you were helpful and supportive when I needed it the most. I will never forget your kindness. That, and the awesome advice and critiques you give me!
To Christine DeSmet from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. You taught me so much about the craft of writing, you have no idea! Well, you do have an idea! To Diane Holmes of Pitch University. When I told you of my plan to e-publish, you didn’t hesitate to give me advice on what I needed to do. Without you I wouldn’t have found…(drumroll please)…my editor extraordinaire, Alicia Rasley. Alicia, you are a blessing! Thank you for everything you have done for me. I could not have found a better person to w
ork with, and I’m looking forward to many more collaborations with you!
To my extended family, in-laws, out-laws, beta readers, neighborhood friends, kids’ friends, and everyone in-between—thank you for your support. You will never know how much you all mean to me!
Cover by Chris Angelo
