by Amy Freeman
“What’s going on, Sam?” Anna asked.
Sam stared through the windshield, her gaze vacant. “Something is wrong,” she said. “Something is seriously wrong with this place.”
“What do you mean?”
“I feel it,” she said, “I’ve felt it since we moved here. It’s like something horrible is looming over me all the time, and now this...”
Anna turned in a panic. “What do you mean ‘This’? What happened?”
Sam hesitated. “Anna...I don’t even know if he was...real.”
Anna swerved to the side of the road and put the car in park. She turned in her seat. “Sam, you’re freaking me out. What do you mean?”
Sam glanced up. “This guy...appeared in the building,” she said. “He was huge, and he was speaking some other language. His energy wasn’t...human.” She lowered her head. “This is insane,” she said. “I don’t know what this is. It’s completely different from anything I have ever experienced.”
Anna stared. “Sam, there are bruises on your neck. That’s real.”
“I don’t know if it was real,” Sam said, her voice tense. “I know I’m not making sense. But I’ve never experienced this. This is more than me reading auras or knowing who’s at the door before the bell rings.” She dropped her head into her hand and exhaled. “This isn’t my abilities,” she said. “This is...outside of me.” She blew out another breath and lifted her head. “He seemed totally real—”
“He left marks.”
“I know.” Sam said gesturing in frustration. “But I saw a woman too. She was every bit as real Anna, but she vanished when you showed up.”
Anna stared, then shook her head. “So...like ghosts or some sort of demon or something?”
Sam looked through the windshield. She paused a moment before speaking. “Remember that time in the gully when we were kids?”
Anna nodded. “Yeah...of course...”
“Come on Sam. Let’s get to the stream, we can build our clubhouse right by it!”
Against strict parental instruction, the two eight year old girls made their way down the small dirt path against a setting summer sun. Sloping this way and that, they pushed through a canopy of green foliage, penetrating the dense, tree-filled gully just behind Anna’s house. Sam and Anna’s tiny arms overflowed—carrying cookies, blankets, and other provisions for their secret hideaway.
“There’s a place down there, past that big tree that’s leaning into the water,” Anna said, ducking under a low branch. “I saw it yesterday from my window.”
“Yeah, but if you can see it from your window, other people might be able to see it too.”
“No, they won’t, you can see it just barely, and no one’s going to be in my room but me.”
Anna turned when she received no reply. Sam had stopped dead in her tracks.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Sam remained silent, eyes wide, frozen on the now dark path.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Anna pled, an edge of fear growing in her voice. She hurried back to where Sam stood.
“Do you feel that?” Sam whispered.
“Feel what? You’re scaring me.”
“We have to go back. It’s bad, really bad.”
Sam grabbed hold of Anna’s arm, squeezing harder and harder as malevolent hysteria consumed her.
“Ow!” Anna cried.
Sam barely seemed to notice. “He’s coming,” she said in a whispered panic. A rumbling crack sounded from high above them in the steep ravine. A large stone tumbled down, crashing into the earth, coming to a stop at their feet. Another followed—and another until a full landslide of dirt and stones collapsed in front of them nearly burying them both.
“Sam! Come on!” Anna’s small fist grasped the fabric of Sam’s ruffled sleeve yanking her up the path. Both girls turned to run. Tears streamed down their cheeks as they clutched each other, flying up the dirt path, jostling their snacks and blankets, stumbling, pushing branches out of their way, clamoring toward the hole in the chain link fence.
They raced through the backyard, now cloaked in darkness. Deep shadows carved into the grass as they took the porch steps, shoving through the back door, not stopping until they reached the sanctuary of Anna’s bedroom. Anna shut the door tight as Sam dropped her things and piled into a corner, shaking, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth. Racing to her side, Anna sat down, hugging her close.
“Those rocks almost killed us,” Anna cried.
“I did that,” Sam said, trembling all over.
Anna stared. “You moved the rocks? How did you move the rocks?”
New tears filled Sam’s eyes. “I just told them to move. A bad man was coming. I didn’t know they would fall so close to us.”
Anna’s big green eyes lit with terror. “Is he still down there?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”
They huddled together, weeping in fear as a large shadowed figure departed in silence from deep within the gully below.
The next day, a body was recovered, half buried in leaves and mud about twenty feet from where the girls were headed. From Anna’s bedroom window they watched in stoic silence as police scoured the gully, stringing up caution tape and interviewing the neighbors. Neither of them ever spoke a word of it to anyone, but a bruised imprint of Sam’s fingers took days to disappear from Anna’s arm.
Sam turned to Anna. “I did it again just now,” she said. “I pulled energy from the ground...and somehow that made him go away.”
Anna stared for a moment then shook her head. “What can we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Sam said. “No one can help me with this. That’s why we can’t go to the hospital, and you can’t tell my parents. No one can know about this.”
“Sam, are you serious?” Anna asked. “We have to do something. What if that...guy was real and he comes back?”
“What am I supposed to do, Anna?” Sam asked. “Call the local witch doctor? No one listens. No one listened when I was a kid and no one is going to listen now.” She dropped her head back into her hands.
Anna sat quiet for a moment. “I’m calling Vig,” she said.
Sam lifted her head, staring through the glass. “What’s Vig gonna do?”
“I don’t know, but at least we won’t be alone.”
“Okay, so we’re all just gonna pile in my bed together?”
Anna glanced up, eyes dark. “Do not say that in front of him—please.”
Sam couldn’t help but crack a smile as Anna dialed the number. She put her phone to her ear and grabbed Sam’s hand. “We’ll figure this out,” she said. “There’s gotta be something we can do.”
He rolled the thick gold chain between his thumb and forefinger...back and forth...back and forth. Something had happened—the environment was thick with it.
Fluorescent blue light filled his eyes—flooding his irises beneath thick dark lashes. A glimmer of crimson light glinted from underneath a small gold plate connecting the chain on his wrist, illuminating the skin where it hung.
A large figure manifested behind him, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. His masculine jaw tightened as he continued rolling the links, back and forth...back and forth. He stood, his muscled arms pushing the chair away and together they headed for the door.
CHAPTER THREE
Anna pulled into the dorm parking lot taking a spot next to a young man straddling a parked motorcycle. His soft brown hair hung shaggy in his eyes, muscular shoulders hunched forward as his thumbs moved across the screen of his cell phone.
Anna killed the engine and climbed out. She rounded the car to help Sam as she opened her door.
“I’m fine,” Sam said. “Really, I am.” She stood up and shut the door.
The young man continued texting as Anna placed a hand on his broad back, leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Hey,” she said.
He hit send and lifted his head. “Hey.” His gentle brown eyes lit with a smile
as he reached a hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss.
“Thanks for coming,” she said.
He narrowed his eyes, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “Of course,” he said. “What loser says ‘no’ to a three-way?”
“Viggo Heskin!” Anna said, shoving him in the shoulder.
“What?” He raised his hands, looking baffled. Anna started for the front door while Sam leaned in for a hug. “Really, thank you,” she said.
He wrapped a muscled arm around her tiny frame and kissed the top of her head. “No problem. I know you’ve waited a long time for her to give in.”
“You idiot,” Sam laughed, shoving him aside. “Get inside.”
A large grin spread across his masculine face as he lifted his leg over the bike, dropped the kick stand and followed Sam down the walkway.
Vig entered the dorm and closed the door behind him. Anna flipped on the lights revealing the sterile environment of their barely lived in apartment. Sam kicked off her shoes, scooting them to the edge of the cream colored carpet and headed for the couch in the sitting area positioned in front of a large bay window.
Anna opened the fridge in the adjacent kitchenette for a bottle of water.
Vig turned. “So what’s goin’ on?” he asked. He crossed the room looking from Anna to Sam, then froze—his dark eyes glinting at the bruises on her neck. Anna and Sam exchanged glances. Vig didn’t speak for a moment, then he moved to the couch putting a hand under her chin. He turned to Anna. “What is this?”
Anna paused. “Some...maniac...”
“Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?” Vig asked in alarm. He turned to Sam before Anna could respond. “Who did this to you?”
“I don’t know, but it’s okay. I’m fine.”
Vig drew back, stunned. “You’re fine?” He turned to Anna. “Have you called the police? Did you call her mom?”
Sam jumped in. “I’m fine, Vig. Please, just trust me,” she said. “No one can know about this.”
Vig stood, pushing a hand through his dark hair. “What the hell are you saying, Sam? You can’t just ignore this. What happened?”
Sam put a hand to her forehead. “Look, I know this sounds crazy—”
“You sound insane, Sam. You’re not thinking clearly.”
Sam glanced at Anna for help, who rubbed her face and crossed the room.
“Vig, okay...this isn’t exactly what it looks like,” she said. “I really can’t explain it and you wouldn’t believe me anyway. Just please trust me. This...guy isn’t loose on campus. It’s going to be okay.”
Vig stared at her in disbelief, unable to speak for a moment. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” he finally said. “What’s going on?”
Anna threw a glance at Sam who stared back, then exhaled, leaning into the couch.
Anna walked over to Vig, took his hand and gestured for him to sit. He shook his head and sat down on the couch next to Sam.
Anna sat next to him. “You know how I’ve said in the past that Sam can do stuff...like psychic stuff?”
Vig stared—expression blank. “Yeah...”
Anna inclined her head and gestured toward Sam’s bruised neck. “This has something to do with that.”
Vig squinted. “What the hell does that mean?”
Anna threw up her hands. “This is why I don’t tell you.”
“No, really,” Vig said, grabbing her hand. “You’re not making any sense.” He turned to Sam. “The bruises just appeared?”
Anna’s head dropped back. “My God, Vig.”
“Anna, you haven’t told me anything.”
Sam leaned forward. “I don’t think the guy who attacked me was...physically real,” she said.
Vig stared at Sam fighting a smile, then shook his head. “Okay,” he said, putting his hands up. “You two are messin’ with me, right?”
Anna leaned back, rolling her eyes. She looked at Sam. “I tried.”
Sam turned to Vig. “Look,” she said. “I’m fine. No one is out there. Something happened tonight but I can’t explain how—you’re just going to have to trust me,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
Anna jumped in changing the subject. “So are you guys ready for tomorrow night?”
Vig stared through a stunned expression. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll run through the set one more time tomorrow and sound check around four o’clock. Look,” he said, eyes on Sam. “I don’t know why you won’t tell your parents or the police like a normal person, but you can’t just brush this off like it never happened. Do you guys wanna come stay at our house until they catch this freak? The guys won’t mind.”
Sam glanced at the floor. “We’ll let you know.”
“I’m happy to stay here with you guys, but there are four of us at my place, ya know, and maybe we can cover you in garlic or make you a voodoo doll or something.”
Sam broke into laughter as Anna rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
He lifted Sam’s chin again, muttering curses as he studied the bruising on her neck.
“I’m excited to see you guys play tomorrow,” Sam said. He ignored her.
Anna stood, moving to the entertainment center to search for a good movie. “So if we’re at the club by eight thirty is that good?”
“Not if you want a good table,” he said, still inspecting Sam’s throat.
“You can’t save us a table?”
Vig dropped his hand from Sam’s face, glancing over his shoulder at her. “If someone comes in to see us play I’m not gonna tell them they can’t sit down.”
Sam laughed, pulling her legs up underneath her. “We’ll be there by eight.”
“You might be.”
Anna scowled at Vig as Sam said, “I will make sure she is on time.”
Vig flashed a wary glance in Anna’s direction. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Anna rolled her eyes as Vig opened his arms. “Come here,” he said.
She shook her head, moved to the chair and sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and looked at Sam. “From now on, if your rehearsals go this late, you call me and I will meet you, okay?”
Sam sighed. “Thanks, Viggie.”
Vig nodded. “No problem.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out, then glanced from Sam to Anna. “So, who wants me first?”
Anna rolled her eyes and pushed him back, silencing him with a venomous glare. She turned to Sam. “Let’s set up a movie in your room,” she said. “When you get tired Vig and I will move into my room.”
Sam nodded, letting out a breath. A vacant look of anxiety clouded her eyes.
Anna paused. “We can all stay in your room if you want.” She felt the grin spreading across Vig’s face behind her and pounded a fist to his chest. He wheezed as she waited for Sam’s reply.
Sam bit her bottom lip suppressing a laugh. “Thank you,” she said.
CHAPTER FOUR
T he scene before her was chaos. Hundreds of people yelling, pushing, all packed in tight. But what should have been crazy loud was silence—all but a steady heartbeat keeping time, thrumming evenly; rhythmically.
Sam took in the faces, like a ghost in a sea of people, moving through the mayhem as the scene around her carried out in slow motion, an urgent sense of anticipation nagged at her, pulling, beckoning her forward, and she obeyed.
Colored lights flashed, pulsed, distorting her perception, tripping up her equilibrium as she struggled to identify her location. Bodies pushed in all around her, hot, breathy, moving in unison, crushing her. Something fl ashed in a distant corner, a faint light in her periphery, only for a second, then a yank forward. The elusive pull increased, dragging her forward, insistent...insistent.
A staircase appeared; black, metal industrial-looking stairs and the pull lurched forward as if initiating the climb to the top of a roller-coaster drawing ever nearer to the source.
She ascended the stairs, one guided step at a time, chaotic silence persisting. The heartbeat
thrummed.
Reaching the top, the force yanked with impatience.
Through the mass of people, the propelling trance hit its peak as she reached the corner of the room. The crowd parted, separating out, one person at a time moving out of her way.
Sam gazed into the newly cleared corner and gasped. Brilliant golden blue light fleshed out the space with an exquisite quality, nearing that of some celestial event, laden with intelligence—alive, and infused with a fierce, protective element. She succumbed to its radiance—divine light begging her near—indescribable euphoria.
Sam flew forward, grasping at her chest. She sat in bed heaving. She glanced around the room—darkened silence. Nothing out of place, no light. She looked to her bed. Anna sprawled the mattress in the center, sound asleep. Vig lay next to her—squished, half on and half off of the bed, most of his covers stolen by Anna. Sam drew in a deep breath and placed a hand to her forehead, torn between the baffling dream experience and the urge to laugh.
She turned to her alarm clock.
Three minutes past nine.
She squinted. That’s not right. She sat up for a closer look, rubbing her eyes and peering at the screen.
Twelve thirty-four a.m.
Sam stared. As delirious as she was, she knew the clock had read three minutes after nine. She sighed. She couldn’t do it anymore. Not tonight. She lay back down, closing her eyes.
As she drifted into a fitful night’s sleep, the time three minutes after nine drifted through her mind like an ominous phantom.
CHAPTER FIVE
S am woke to bright sunlight filtering through shuttered windows. She lay in bed, the events of the past night and the ominous dream still heavy in her mind. She lifted a hand to her neck, checking for pain, but felt none. With a furrowed brow she turned her head from right to left, then reached for her compact mirror in her purse by her bed. She pulled the small black lid open and lifted her chin angling the mirror so she could see. The bruising was gone. Every bit of it as if nothing had happened. She lay against her pillow, baffled.
