I sat back in my chair and stared at the box some more. I had unlocked something in my mind. Although I couldn’t come up with anything solid to follow, it was still something. A small piece to the puzzle. I felt free.
“What time is it?” I asked.
A few beeps responded, followed by a feminine, mechanical voice. “It is forty-two minutes past four o’clock in the evening on Wednesday, October sixteenth, twenty-four fifty-two.”
I stared toward the speaker in the room, discovering another sudden, yet useful thing that sprouted from my memory. I had a date with a bartender, who I hoped would help unlock even more of my mind.
TEN
THE AREA AROUND THE club looked much different in the fading light of day. There was something foreboding and eerie in the air that mixed with the calm and empty appearance of the industrial district.
I knocked on the door. When no one responded, I leaned against the brick building.
What am I going to do now?
Knowing how insistent Alexander was, he would be waiting for me if I went back home. I watched the last of the sunlight shrink behind the buildings, casting darkness on everything. I couldn’t postpone it anymore. Alexander or not, I had to go home. Just as I rounded the corner, I bumped into the bartender from the night before.
“Whoa, there you are. Are you okay?” he asked, gripping my arms firmly.
I pulled away. “I’m fine. I thought you forgot. I was on my way home.”
He smiled. His eyes, slightly familiar, were an incredible violet.
“I figured you wouldn’t remember where to go before hours. I came to find you.” He paused, staring at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. Before I could do or say anything, he said, “Come on, we better get you inside.”
I nodded, following him to a door next to an old fire escape that looked like it would fall on top of us if the wind blew just right. All it did was make a high-pitched grinding noise and clink loudly against the brick.
The door led to a break room resembling a small kitchen. The table had three questionable chairs around it. The cabinetry was massively dated, but it had charm and was cozy.
“Take a seat,” the bartender said as he approached a cabinet. “Do you like coffee?”
“I love coffee. Is there a time when you aren’t waiting on others?”
He turned enough to look directly at me and smiled. “You’re worth the before-hours, complimentary cup of Joe.”
“Thanks … I think…”
“So, remembering anything else?” He had his back to me while he worked at brewing a pot of coffee.
“Not really. Why?”
“You’re wearing your jewelry.”
I looked down at my wrist. “Oh, yeah, just some bracelets I found.”
A loud hissing sound emitted from the contraption on the counter, reminding me more of a compact coffee factory than a machine intended to brew the hot beverage. After a couple of steel clanks, the rich aroma filled the air, then I heard the sound of pouring liquid. Before I knew it, one cup was set in front of me.
“Still don’t trust me, huh?” he asked.
“I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even know or remember your name. Whichever the case may be.”
He chuckled softly then said, “Justin. But I gotta say, I’m hurt you don’t remember me. I always thought of myself as rather unforgettable.”
“You’re vaguely familiar. Beyond that, nope. Nothing.”
“Ouch.” He scrunched his brows, squinted his eyes, and pursed his lips.
“Don’t let that wound your ego. I’m practically a stranger to myself.”
“Interesting…” He seemed to have fallen quietly into his thoughts while I sipped my hot coffee. The bitter liquid burned my tongue. Oh, how I love that taste and feel.
“I was hoping you could help me with some answers … Since, you seem to know me better than I do right now.” A chuckle escaped through my words.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure I can do that. You see, if you remember everything too quickly, it can throw you into shock. And if it doesn’t jog anything, you could go traipsing that little tail of yours into things you can’t back out of.” He pointed at me like it was something I’ve done before. I hated to admit it, but it did sound like something I would do.
“Is that a no?” I asked, locking his gaze into mine. It was all or nothing. And I wasn’t backing out without something.
“I’ll tell you what I can,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Ask away.”
“Did you go to the Academy?”
“No, why?”
I shrugged. “How do I know you?”
“You enjoyed the club’s atmosphere.” He sat up and pulled on the collar of his shirt. “Even my company and conversation.”
“Not just good with the drinks but suave as well, eh?” I teased.
He opened his mouth, but the screech of a vehicle pulling up next to the door caused him to turn his attention to it. Doors creaked open and thumped shut, then the one to the break room opened. The big, burly, ebony bouncer stormed through. His eyes wide with some inciting emotion. Then he saw me, and they grew even bigger.
“Ghost! What’cha doin’ here, girl?”
Again with that name?
“Sanctus infernum, Taberious,” Justin muttered, leaning back in his chair and pressing the tips of his fingers to his head.
“Putting pieces of the puzzle together,” I answered. The bouncer looked like he wanted to go further but changed his attention back to Justin, whose composure stiffened noticeably.
“Holy hell, indeed,” Taberious said. “We gotta problem. They found another body.”
Justin stood immediately. “Where?”
“Down by old riverside, near the Guardian. This time, they found something that points to us.”
“Us?” I asked.
Justin’s lips pressed firmly together. “Just … stay here until I get back. If something happened to you, it would be my ass.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll just go home.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Taberious asked.
Justin looked from Taberious to me.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. But we will discuss why my safety is your responsibility later,” I said.
I stepped out the door, nearly walking into a black transporter. Moving around it, I stared into the windows. There had to be someone else. More than one door closed before Taberious walked in. Yet, I couldn’t see anyone. Turning my attention in front of me, I continued home.
ELEVEN
AFTER THE DOOR CLOSED on the elevator, I hesitated instead of pushing the button to my floor. I didn’t want to go home. Not when there were more questions to be answered and I was so close to getting them.
The questions encircled my mind until I was dizzy. I rested my head against the cool wall of the elevator.
What the Hell is going on?
My head throbbed, particularly where the cut was. My need for pain relief outweighed my resistance to go home. I pressed the button. As the elevator climbed, exhaustion set in. It would do me good to get some rest. I still needed to go to the Academy and figure out why the football game from five years ago meant anything to me or my past.
All I knew, or understood, was that my dad disowned me when I left for the Academy. That somehow led to me being in the Vanguard. A part of me already knew this; I just didn’t want to accept it. Top it off with some football ticket, strange men with blood on their hands, an overbearing, extremely rich man, and strange woman claiming to be my ‘friends.’
Was my mom right? Did I really want to go down this road? Did I really want to look into that box?
I wasn’t sure anymore. When the elevator doors dinged opened, that fact became more prominent. Down the hall, a man stood at my door. A man I tried very hard to avoid. It was too late to go back down–he’d already seen me.
I stepped out slowly, thinking of a dozen excus
es. Then I realized I didn’t owe him one. I turned him down. I refused. He was unnecessarily persistent.
Alexander straightened his suit jacket. “Elsabetha…” he drug out the last syllable as if he tasted my name and liked it. I forced myself to not roll my eyes.
“Mr. Barabbas–”
“Alexander.”
I tried to not smile condescendingly, making it as convincing as possible. “I told Jenna I declined your offer. Did she not tell you?”
His dark orbs were as cold as ice. Black discs of nothingness with brown flecks of light. His smile, dripping with enough venom to kill half the city, chilled my skin.
And something happened as he stared at me. Something I didn’t expect.
“What will it take for me to get to know you better?” he purred seductively. His words buzzed through my mind and encircled me in warmth. My heart raced. My body wanted to walk away, but my mind was too curious to let that happen.
“Thought you said we were close?” I asked through the inner, violent, tug-of-war. My words came out even, thankfully.
“I said we were friends and I wanted to be more. You weren’t very receptive to it.”
“I’m still not,” I said, sobered from whatever trance I was under. I stepped around him to my door.
“What will it take to make you ready?” he asked, sounding as if he were on the verge of annoyance or mania.
I sighed heavily. “Time.”
“That’s it?”
I turned, facing him. “You have to ask me yourself and stop throwing your money around, because I’m not impressed with it. In fact, it has the opposite effect. Act like a regular guy instead of who you are. If you can do all of that, then we’ll talk in the future.”
“Then let’s start with a ‘just friends’ game.”
“Game?”
“Football … Aeronauts … your favorite team. There’s a big game on Saturday.”
I scrunched my eyebrows and leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I take it you don’t remember that either.”
“I seem to recall not being a fan.”
“You went to nearly every game. Going could help you remember something.”
“Tell me what you know about the accident first,” I said.
“Which accident?”
“The one no one has record of. Why was it covered up?”
He sighed, leaning on the opposite side of the door jam. “We thought it would be in your best interest if no one knew. Didn’t think you’d want reporters and journalists banging on your door at all hours, questioning why you were the only one to survive the first transporter accident in years.”
I nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” I wasn’t entirely sure I bought his excuse.
“So, will you go to the game with me then?”
I could go. Just as friends. Get some answers. Even though he was expecting more than just friends, it seemed like too much of a coincidence to get a ticket stub from my mom then have him ask me to a game.
But my mom cautioned me from my memories, while he was pushing me toward them.
Why?
“I don’t do box seats,” I said.
“Fine. I’ll give my box tickets to someone else and buy us a couple stadiums.”
“In the stands?”
“Yes, in the stands.” He added another smile not lacking in threat and warning.
“All right, I’ll go. But, just as a friend. Nothing more.”
“Of course.” A musical jingle emitted from his pocket. He took out his communicator and pressed a button. “Yeah?” A few spans of silence, as he listened to the other side, then he said, “I’ll be right there.”
“Gotta run?” I asked as he slipped his communicator back into his pocket. I tried not to sound too hopeful.
“Sorry. I’ll have someone pick you up Saturday at eleven.”
I held up my hands. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll just meet you there.”
He twisted his lips, as though considering to argue, but must have thought the better of it. “Very well. See you then.”
I watched him walk away until he was halfway down the hall, then I slipped inside and pressed the bolt button. Just because I was willing to unlock my memories didn’t mean I trusted him.
A ding came from the speaker system, followed by the mechanical woman’s voice. “You have one new message waiting. Would you like me to play it?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Playing…” she said, then my mom’s voice took over.
“Elsabetha, honey, it’s your mom. I want you to come over Saturday for supper. I’ve talked to your dad. He’s willing to be civil. Only dinner, though. We’ll have to take small steps. See you then.”
“End of message,” the mechanical voice said.
Just as I was about to hop into a shower, my doorbell rang. I stopped frozen in place. There was a chill in the air I hadn’t noticed before. Slowly I turned, stepping carefully to the door. I waited for it to open on its own, not really understanding why. The screen didn’t pop up to show me who it was. I reached out a steady finger and pressed the button. It came up revealing an empty hall.
I opened the door and stepped out in time to see the elevator doors closing at the end of the hall. When I turned around, a folded note was taped to the door frame. I pulled it off, stepped inside, and pressed the bolt button.
Flipping open the note, the words I read burned themselves into my mind.
Don’t trust Alexander, and don’t tell him if you remember anything. He’s dangerous. Don’t go to the game, and please, stay away from him.
I didn’t have time to lose; I ran out my door as fast as I could to the elevator. I had to catch whoever left me the note.
Once on the ground level, I ran through the foyer to the front desk. A teenage boy wearing a navy blue uniform and hat worked the late shift. He looked up on my approach. “Mrs. Eh-uh, Miss Ellery, how can I help you?”
I ignored the way he stumbled on my name. He had to be new. “Someone was just at my door and left a note. I need you to pull up the feed and show me who it was.”
He turned to his screen hidden behind the desk. A few dings and beeps later, he shook his head. “I’m sorry. No one was at your door after Mr. Barabbas.”
I looked out the entrance to the condos. Too much time had passed for me to find whoever it was that left the note. I needed answers immediately. “Fine. Do you know when the Academy closes?”
He gave me a blank stare. “Miss Ellery, the Academy never closes.”
“Good,” I said, then walked out of the building.
I blinked.
I was back in my room, lying in my bed with the sun rising through the window. I sat up, no recollection of how I got home. Only the vaguest sense of running. I wore different clothes, almost like I had dreamed the whole day. I would’ve believed it, if it weren’t for the necklace and bracelets I still had on.
Everything else seemed to be in their rightful places. Nothing stood out of the ordinary. Then I saw the folded white paper laid on top of the pillow next to me. The same paper the other note of warning was written on. Hesitantly, I picked it up.
Don’t come looking for me again. I’ll find you when the time is right. Stay safe.
TWELVE
I STOOD OUTSIDE THE Academy, staring at the emblem that showed against the grey stone and glass, as if it were illuminated. A number of wide stairs inclined up to the doors, leading to the foyer and commons. Two large statues flanked each side of the stairs. One was of a human. The other, a Nepherium. Both held a hand out toward the other, frozen in a position meant to represent the union and peace of the two races.
They’ve fallen to mere lawn ornaments. The meaning long lost, along with the reason hidden in my missing memories.
I padded toward the fountain at the center of a circle of murals that portrayed the creation of the Academy and the time of No-war. A time widely welcomed and cherished.
&n
bsp; The appearance of the Nepherium was a sign of change and peace. Ending wars and teaching humans about the gifts lying dormant inside them. The Nepherium were responsible for all the changes in governments and religion. They brought to light knowledge of the Earth’s soul, a collection of consciousness. Those events were depicted on the walls, in a mosaic, the pictures blurring and distorting the closer I got to them.
I took in the fractal frames and still images from my periphery as I climbed the stairs, passed under the statues, and ultimately reached the doors. After pausing to consider what I was going to say, I took a deep breath, stepped through the threshold, and walked straight to the receptionist’s desk near the middle of the commons.
The woman peered at me over the silver rim of her spectacles. Her lips, painted in too bright of a red, pressed so firmly together, two small bumps on top of a thin line. Her coppery red hair was piled high in a messy, twisted bun. A few loose strands fell along the back of her shoulders, appearing orange against the red of her Academy uniform.
I remembered the time I received mine. I felt torn. Something that was supposed to be joyous was wrapped in sadness. Was it because of my dad? Possibly.
“Can I help you?” she clipped.
“Yes, please. I need some information. I was in an accident that caused me to lose my memory. I know I was in the Academy. If I could just get my record—”
“Name?” she said, running her fingers along the screens in front of her.
“Elsabetha Ellery,” I replied.
“First year of attendance?”
“Twenty-four forty-five.”
She heavily sighed, continuing to whisk her hands furiously over the screens. All too soon, she replied in the same snide tone, “No, I’m sorry. I’ve no record of you.”
I stared at her as she avoided my gaze, swiping her hands a few more times, then she took a sip of her coffee.
“No, that’s impossible,” I argued. “Check again. Make sure you spelled my name correctly. E-L-”
“I know how to spell your name Miss Ellery. Your brother was in attendance two years before you. Now, if you don’t mind, I have important business to attend to.” She stood from her seat.
Made to Forget (Nepherium Novella Series) Page 5
