Second Sight

by Carly Fall

  The visions stopped, leaving him in complete darkness again.

  He took a moment to memorize every detail of every image, which proved difficult as they came and went so quickly. When he’d had his sight, he’d also possessed a photographic memory, and thankfully, he’d retained a lot of it when he’d been blinded.

  The gun seemed to be a Glock; a G42, if he wasn’t mistaken. The woman had been intriguing, her long hair hanging over the left side of her face, her skin smooth and creamy, her dark eyes intelligent and gazing at him questioningly. Who was she? Could that actually be Ella? He’d have to find out.

  She had yelled at him not to fall into the pool the night before, and he’d smelled the chlorine, so he assumed the pool he’d seen had been the one here at the house. A brown wall of rock stood at least twenty-five feet high, and a waterfall cascaded down into the water. Trees and flowers of reds and yellow surrounded it, and it had seemed as if a private grotto hid within the rock formation. He’d have to check that out, as well.

  The Mac computer had numbers and letters scrolling across it, and he guessed it had to be some type of computer coding. The long, slim fingers racing across the keyboard had looked feminine, but who they belonged to, he didn’t know. One thing he’d learned when he first became aware of his ability was not to assume anything. Those pretty fingers did not necessarily belong to the attractive woman with the long, dark hair, nor did anything imply that the woman could be Ella.

  Based on the layout of the living room he’d seen, he guessed that the nice leather furniture belonged in this house.

  Now, the vision of the coffee machine pleased him. It definitely had been turned on and set to start brewing at 7 a.m. He didn’t know the current time, but Savannah usually roused him between six and seven, and if the time proved correct, that meant coffee would either be starting soon, or waited for him a mere twenty-five steps away.

  He quickly used the toilet and showered, the hot water feeling so good against his skin. After drying off, he walked back into the bedroom and Savannah barked, letting him know she had returned, ready to be at his service.

  “Did you run into any cats, my lovely lady?” he asked as he pulled open the closet door.

  She whined, and he grinned as he touched his clothing. Even the mention of a cat got her upset. He picked a pair of jeans on a hanger and felt the tag of the button-down shirt. Goose bumps traveled over his skin as the morning breeze wafted through the room, and he shivered. He needed to get dressed.

  After pulling on a pair of black jeans and a light blue shirt, if he hadn’t been mistaken, as well as his Col Hann boots, he walked back into the bathroom and found the bottle of gel on the counter. Whenever he bought new grooming supplies, he took a pin and dented the tube. One indent meant toothpaste; two, gel. His shaving cream came in a can, so no need to mark that. Besides, he rarely shaved his jaw clean anyway. He’d come up with that system after he’d brushed his teeth with hair gel. The taste had lasted for days.

  As he ran the comb through his hair, he followed it with his fingers, not stopping until every strand felt in place. He ran his hands over his face, not bothering with the stubble, then down the front of his shirt. All the buttons matched up with their holes. His fly was up, his shoes on the right feet.

  Coffee. He needed coffee.

  He shut the sliding glass door and put on Savannah’s halter. “Let’s find the coffee machine, beautiful.”

  He’d seen flashes of Savannah when he’d looked into the mirror—a light golden retriever with kind, dark brown eyes and a happy smile. She weighed about eighty pounds, and if the government ever did anything kind for him after blinding him, it was giving him Savannah, as well as lessons with a trainer on how to be a self-sufficient blind man.

  Fucking bastards.

  The hiss of the machine met his ears and then he smelled the coffee percolating. Apparently, he’d timed it just right so he’d have the first cup.

  As he went from cupboard to cupboard trying to find a coffee cup, he made mental notes of what he found—the door to the right of the sink held dishes. Two panels down, spices. Bowls in the next one, and saran wrap and tin foil in the one after that. Finally, he found coffee cups in the cupboard by the refrigerator. It certainly wasn’t where he’d keep them, but to each their own. Not his kitchen, not his problem.

  As he poured the hot liquid, he wondered if he’d ever have his own kitchen again, and if he did, he’d place the saran wrap and tin foil in a drawer, because who in their right mind kept that crap in a cupboard?

  Shaking his head, he took a sip of the coffee. It tasted strong against his lips and burned on the way down. Apparently, Ella liked her coffee robust.

  As he made his way into the living room, he felt the top of the leather couch, and then took three steps to his left, his leg brushing against the arm of the chair, confirming that his earlier vision had indeed been of this room. He sat down in the chair and sipped his coffee. Savannah came over to him and nudged his leg, then laid down with a sigh.

  The silent house soothed him and he laid his head back against the chair, wondering when Ella would make her appearance.

  His thoughts drifted back to the woman he’d seen in the mirror. She’d been gorgeous with her long, dark shiny hair that reminded him of black silk. Her fair skin had been creamy smooth, her dark eyes haunting, as if they held secrets she didn’t want anyone to know. However, he did wonder why she wore her hair covering one side of her face. In his experience, women who did so hid something, as if the world couldn’t see them beyond their hair. Could the woman be Ella? And if so, what did she not want the world to see?

  Of course, perhaps his assumption was wrong, and the woman would be someone he’d meet in the future, and one who found wearing her hair like that fashionable.

  He heard her gentle footsteps on the tile in the foyer. They disappeared as she cut through the carpeted formal family room, and he picked them up again as she entered the kitchen. The sound of coffee hitting the cup met his ears, and then she opened the refrigerator. Milk or cream.

  Deciding it would be best if she knew he sat right around the corner from her so his presence wouldn’t startle her, he called, “Good morning, Ella.”

  All sounds ceased for a second, and he smelled her as she rounded the corner.

  “Good morning.” Her voice carried just a hint of wariness.

  “How are you today?” He smiled as he pushed his sunglasses up his nose.

  “I’m fine. You’re up early.”

  “Yes, the sun coming through the blinds is so bright in the morning.”

  A beat of silence ensued. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or tell you what a horrible joke that is.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you think is best.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments as both sipped their coffee. He heard her blow on the hot liquid, and the small gulp as it slid down her throat.

  “Ella, may I ask you a question?”

  “I guess so. And by the way, I’ve decided that was just a really bad joke.”

  “What do you look like?”

  The quiet of the house took on a different feeling, and stress and strain oozed into the room.

  “Why do you want to know?” she snapped.

  “I like to imagine what the people I talk to look like. Apparently, I’ve hit a raw nerve.”

  “Before I tell you anything, I want to know how you knew I watched you last night. How did you know I was still in the room?”

  He inhaled deeply as he thought about answering her. “Is that a lotion you wear, or is it your natural scent?”

  “What?”

  “I was just wondering if—”

  “You wonder whatever you want, but these questions are getting a little intrusive.”

  “My apologies,” he said, meaning it. “I didn’t intend to upset you.”

  The silence returned as the stress dissipated.

  “So, are you going to tell me?” she asked.

 
“Tell you how I knew you were watching me?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “Do you remember what I said last night?”

  “Yes. You said that sharing your secrets with me was as likely to happen as us jumping into bed and fucking each other senseless, is the way I believe you put it.”

  He chuckled, amused by her bluntness, Had he offended her, though? “My apologies for being so crude last night. I was very tired.”

  “No apologies necessary. I appreciate the honesty.”

  They sat quietly for a few moments. Thankfully, the tension in the room had evaporated.

  “So, are you going to tell me about your abilities?” she asked.

  He sighed. If Joe trusted her, there shouldn’t be any cause for him not to. What would it hurt if she knew, anyway? He couldn’t think of any reason not to tell her, and maybe, if he shared a little bit of himself with her, perhaps it would continue to thaw her. “I suppose so.”

  “What are they?”

  The leather creaked as she moved. Did she sit forward in anticipation of what he had to say, or had sat back in the couch, relaxed, an expectant look on her face?

  “As you know, I’m completely blind.”

  “Totally?”

  “One hundred percent. I live in utter darkness. Not even a shadow crosses my vision.”

  “Wow. You weren’t born like that, though, because last night, you said something about an explosion.”

  “No. Before the explosion, my vision was twenty-twenty.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, her voice soft.

  He’d never heard the tone from her before, and it indicated she wasn’t as hard and rude as she’d first been. Perhaps he’d been right, and her behavior had been a coping mechanism?

  “Please, Ella. I hate pity. It happened, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. No one needs to be sorry about anything. Well, except maybe the people responsible for the explosion. They’ll be very sorry if I ever get my hands on them.”

  She remained quiet for a moment. “I hear the anger in your voice about the situation. Yet, you say that I should just ignore what’s happened to you. You’re contradicting yourself.”

  He sipped his coffee. Oh, she seemed to be turning into quite a mental foe. She had him pegged. “Touché, Ella. Touché. “

  “And what are your abilities?”

  He wondered if she smiled, happy she’d read him right. He didn’t hear it in her voice, so he guessed not.

  “For starters, when my sight was taken from me, my other senses became heightened.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for instance, I can feel the change in one room to the other in this house, and the air fluctuates significantly while on your side of the house as compared to this side.”

  He inhaled deeply. “You smell like lilacs, and I wonder if that’s your natural scent, or a lotion.”

  A beat of silence ensued.

  “Well? ” he asked. “Aren’t you going to tell me?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zach. I don’t have any lilac lotion.”

  He grinned. “Then it must be your natural scent.”

  “I don’t see how—”

  “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, my hearing is also far stronger than it used to be. Did you hear that dog barking last night?”

  “N-no.”

  “Such a shame its owners don’t have a little sympathy for their neighbors.”

  “There aren’t any dogs on this cul-de-sac.”

  “Oh, I know. This took place a couple blocks away.”

  She sipped her coffee again, and he wished he could see her face.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Not quite. In the mornings after I get up, if I stand in front of a mirror, visions come to me.”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged. “Like snippets of things. Perhaps they’re in the future; perhaps they’ll happen today.”

  “That could easily be like a daydream or something like that. Your brain could be overcompensating for—”

  He shook his head. “No, Ella. My apologies for interrupting you, but these are true visions I see in the mirror.”

  “If you were in front of one now, what would you see?”

  “Nothing. It only happens in the mornings. It only happens once throughout the day.”

  “Fascinating.”

  For a reason he couldn’t pinpoint, he liked that she found him interesting. “Yes. Needless to say, I have to pay close attention to what I see. I only get one run at it.”

  “What did you see this morning?”

  “A gun, a computer, gorgeous hands with slim fingers moving over a keyboard, Savannah swimming in a pool, and a beautiful woman with black hair, creamy white skin, and dark eyes. She wore her hair hanging over the left side of her face, as if she hid something.”

  She gasped, and he heard the coffee cup being set down on the table.

  “I take it that was you?”

  The energy in the room morphed, into a conundrum of nervousness, sadness, and a blast of anger. He’d been right—it had been Ella he’d seen this morning.

  “Your reaction says it all,” he murmured. “I can almost feel your emotions in the air; the atmosphere in this room has changed. You’re very beautiful, Ella.”

  “You don’t know anything,” she whispered.

  “Am I wrong? Wasn’t that you?”

  “Yes. Yes, it was.” Her voice continued to be soft, just above a whisper.

  He sat forward in his chair, confused. He’d obviously touched onto something very deep and personal for her, but he didn’t understand what in the world it could have been. He’d just told her she appeared beautiful to him. Perhaps she had been shocked by the fact that he saw images in the mirror?

  “Ella?”

  “I’m sorry. I need to get to work.”

  She stood abruptly, making the table rattle, and the carpet muffled her footsteps as she left the room. He sat back in his chair, contemplating what had just happened.

  One of two things just occurred—she’d been shocked by his ability, or he’d offended her by telling her she was beautiful.

  His thoughts drifted back to the vision, and he thought again about her hair. He’d always appreciated women, and when he’d had his sight, he’d never hesitated to tell a woman he thought she was beautiful, no matter if he knew her or not. Never had one reacted in a negative way as Ella just had. When his unit had been stateside, they had teased him relentlessly about his metrosexual ways, and a few had even commented how he seemed to be able to connect with women in such an easy manner. He’d always wanted to look his best, and he’d simply been forthright and complimentary to women while others tried to game them with dumb pick-up lines or being crude. Zach had found that these come-ons were more for the man’s friends’ entertainment, and never to get to know the woman.

  He appreciated beauty in all forms, from clothes to art, to jewelry, and yes, women.

  Unless Ella happened to be a type of woman he’d never met before—and he’d met and bedded a lot of women before his blindness—he had to believe she hid something.

  Intriguing, indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Ella sat back and stared at her computer screen, the code running across it almost hypnotic.

  She’d kept the door of her office closed almost the full day just so she wouldn’t have to encounter Zach again. The past firmly grasped her mind, making it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.

  It had been a long time since someone had used the word ‘beautiful’ to describe her. At one time, she had been, but no longer.

  She traced her finger over the left side of her face, feeling the harsh scar that spanned from her temple, down her cheek, to her jawbone. Mottled skin surrounded the angry red welt. No one with a set of working eyes would ever describe her as beautiful. She’d even looked into plastic surgery and visited three different doctors. All agreed they wo
uld never be able to repair the keloid scar, and perhaps surgery would even make it worse.

  The day she’d been scarred and Joe had been shot, they’d been AWOL from their base for a week. It had been scary as they moved from hotel to hotel, as well as exhilarating and exciting. Their lives had definitely been in danger, but Joe had told her again and again that they were the good guys fighting the bad guys, the government.

  He’d lived on the Fort Benning base in Texas, while she had a small apartment about a half-mile away. Joe had been a Sergeant; she a corporal, and a nurse. When the time came for annual physicals, she’d been tasked with vaccinating those who needed them.

  She cringed as she remembered sliding a needle into the soldiers’ arms, not knowing she hadn’t been immunizing them, but instead, giving them horrible diseases like polio and infecting them with viruses such as the chicken pox and the flu. In a week’s time, she had noted that those she had inoculated came back to the infirmary very, very sick. She and Joe had been dating for about a year, and she’d spoken to him about it. They’d formed their hypothesis, although she had a very hard time believing the government would do such a thing to their own troops.

  Over the next few days, she’d kept her own records, writing down the vial numbers of the medicine she’d been instructed to give the troops who came to see her.

  Late one night, they’d snuck into the infirmary and she’d compared the records. What had been written down in the log did not match the vial numbers she had jotted down.

  Someone had doctored the formal records.

  They’d had their answer.

  They’d debated going to the press with their findings, the idea scaring them. If the government could run such horrible experiments on their own troops, surely, they wouldn’t think twice of making their accusers disappear. However, maybe being in the public spotlight would save them.

  Ella had felt it a crapshoot. What if the press didn’t believe them? They really had no hard proof except her own handwritten notes. Would they believe a military nurse? If they did, an investigation would be launched, and the people responsible for the experiments would know they’d been found out. She didn’t see a way for them to protect themselves.