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The Secret Truth of Time: A Time Travel / Supernatural Suspense Novel

Page 11

by C. M. Murphy


  Alma stepped outside. She recognized this place. "There's more houses out there now," she said.

  Leo nodded. "Do you know that from my memory?"

  Alma paused. "I'm not sure."

  Doug joined Leo and Alma on the shady deck. Cassidy followed with two glasses and two cans of diet soda. Alma took her drink and sat on a wooden lawn chair. Doug took the seat next to her. The moment Alma sat down, she knew that the chair had been restored, and the chairs were as old as the house. She looked down and inspected the piece of furniture. "You've had the chairs redone," Alma said. "You added the cushions, and redid the finish."

  "Yes, I have," Cassidy said. "You can feel the age, can't you?" She glanced over to Leo, who was seated next to her and across from Alma.

  "That, and Leo had been here just after the house was built," Alma said. She wondered why so many memories that she'd not had access to before flooded into her mind now. And it wasn't just Leo. Someone else had been here. It wasn't her mom or the killer. Then it struck her that she'd forgotten someone important. Irene Polk! In all the disturbing events of this morning and the drunken excitement of her date, she'd forgotten Irene. She reached back into her mind to try and remember more. "Serene Irene," Alma mumbled. Flashes of Irene's death and moments in the alley sparked in Alma's memory.

  "Are you okay, Alma?" Doug asked.

  Alma waved him off, not wanting to be distracted. Her eyes snapped to Leo's face. "You don't look that different."

  "Did you say Serene Irene?" Cassidy asked.

  "Yes," Alma said.

  "You used to call her that, didn't you?" Alma asked, remembering bits of Irene's life. How could she have forgotten being in Irene's body when she was killed? Alma remembered how calm Irene had been when she'd died, but how panicked Alma had been at the time. Alma's drunkenness and infatuation had distracted her.

  It was as if she'd been trying to solve a complex puzzle and in the last few minutes an avalanche of pieces rained down on her.

  Each time she traveled through time, she'd been propelled there by a watch. Her mother's and then Doug's. The only difference had been when she'd traveled back to Irene's death, she hadn't been alone. She'd been on a date, and this time she'd remembered what had happened to her when she'd returned. The memories of her life as Alma and her drunkenness must have overshadowed her memories of Irene Polk's death. But it wasn't just her death. When Irene died, her life had flashed in front of her like people say happens when you die. And then there was that moment of calm.

  "Alma, what's wrong?" Doug asked.

  Alma shushed him and waved him off. She needed to concentrate. Irene had known Alma was there. She'd been happy that she'd had proof of the Infinite that she'd always believed in.

  "You learned about the Infinite Truth from Irene," Alma said to Leo.

  "Cassidy was a student of hers, and she told me about Irene. She was a big influence. We had many of the same ideas, but she was more..." Leo waved his hand in the air as he searched for the word, "mystical or some might say spiritual."

  "And you are more scientific," Alma said.

  "I like to think so. But the truth is consistent. It's not like false perceptions. It's not dependent as much on point of view. You can come to the truth at any angle, and it still," Leo laughed and said, "holds true."

  Alma nodded.

  Doug and Cassidy traded looks. Neither understood what was going on.

  "How do you know about Irene?" Cassidy asked.

  "I was there when she died. It was the vampire—the one that killed you and my mom. He killed her, and he wants to kill me. I need you to help me find him."

  "Alma, you need to avoid him!" Doug said.

  Alma shook her head no. "I think I'm supposed to kill him."

  Chapter Fourteen

  After speaking the words aloud, Alma found herself more certain that it was her mission to track down her mother's killer. Why else was she there just before her mother's death, just after Leo's, and the moment Irene died? It had to be the reason.

  "I don't think it's a good idea," Doug said.

  "My mother foresaw it. It's my destiny," Alma said.

  Leo and Cassidy traded looks.

  "What?" Alma said. "Why did you two look at each other just now?"

  "Well—" Cassidy started.

  "We'll explain, but I'm going to need something stronger to drink than iced tea," Leo said. "Do you mind?"

  "No," Alma said. She could use another drink, too.

  "Do you want a beer or something?" Leo asked, standing up.

  "Another Diet Coke," Alma said.

  "I'll take a beer," Doug answered.

  "I'll help," Cassidy said, and the two headed back into the house.

  Once in the kitchen, Leo made himself a martini while Cassidy prepared the rest of the drinks. "What was the mother's name?" Leo asked, taking a small sip of vodka before adding the vermouth.

  "I told you, Bernadette Fernandez."

  "She looked like Alma, yes?"

  "Almost twins," Cassidy answered. "Why?"

  "Did this mother have a nickname?"

  Cassidy took a frosted mug for Doug's beer and a tall glass out of the freezer and set them on the tray. "Tell me where you're going with this."

  Leo said nothing and finished mixing his drink. Accustomed to dozens of lifetimes of the man's stubbornness, Cassidy gave up and answered him. "Bernie. Her sister and everyone at school called her Bernie."

  "But that's a man's name," Leo said.

  "That's what made it cute," Cassidy said.

  "And she had an accent, and I had an accent," Leo muttered, as he realized that he must've mistaken Bernie for Birdie.

  "Yes, she was from the Philippines. You're Italian. Tell me what the hell you're getting at."

  "This Alma, she is about twenty years old?" Leo asked.

  Cassidy sighed and didn't hide her annoyance as she spat out, "Yes." Leo smiled at her agitation. His smile agitated Cassidy even more.

  It dawned on Cassidy what her womanizing friend was hinting at. "Leo. You're not. You can't be."

  "I met the mother—well, she wasn't one at the time—a few months before I died. This girl might be..." He moved his head side to side and didn't finish his sentence. He opted instead to finish his first martini and mix another.

  "Are you sure?"

  "There's no way to be sure, but..." Leo stopped, made a gesture with his hands, then slipped two olives into his cocktail. "Let's get back before they wonder." Leo left the tray of drinks for Cassidy to handle on her own and headed out of the kitchen with his second martini.

  Cassidy followed. "Don't think you're not going to tell me everything later."

  "I know, I know," he muttered as he opened the sliding glass door to the porch.

  Without spilling a drop of his martini, Leo grabbed the small, wooden coffee table at one end of the porch with his free hand, and walked over to where the foursome had sat before. "Make room, make room," he said as Doug and Alma got up and rearranged the chairs so there was space to set the table between them. Cassidy set the tray on the table. They all took their seats.

  Doug reached for his beer and drank two huge gulps straight from the bottle. Cassidy offered him the mug, but he waved it off. His nerves were frayed, and he needed this beer without a second to waste.

  Alma grabbed the can of Diet Coke and the tall, chilled glass with ice. She stared at it as it hummed in her hand.

  "You know it's old," Cassidy said, nodding in the direction of the mug. "They say even before someone's Awakened, they sense the history of things. Some regular people, too. Sometimes it's in the form of talent, like being able to play the piano, dance, or write poetry at a young age. Sometimes it takes the form of imaginary friends from the past or an interest in history."

  Alma sighed. "But I'm not one of you guys."

  "No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that maybe you also have a bit of what we have," Cassidy said.

  Alma nodded. "Why did you guys exchan
ge that look when I said I should kill my mother's murderer?"

  Cassidy and Leo exchanged another look. Leo gestured for Cassidy to explain.

  "It's not the going after your mother's murderer that made us pay close attention. It was your use of the word 'destiny.'"

  "And why is that important?" Alma asked. Doug leaned forward. He'd never heard about any significance of the word "destiny" in his studies with The Observatory.

  "You've both heard people use the phrase 'sixth sense,' right?" Cassidy asked.

  Alma and Doug nodded.

  Cassidy continued. "Everyone has an idea what it means to possess a sixth sense. And on some level most people believe it until they try to force it into the box of reason where it won't stay put. But essentially what it means is that you're aware of something that your other senses aren't entirely cluing you in on."

  "The Infinite Truth," Leo interrupted.

  Cassidy rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. You can say that, but even on the most basic human level, people have it. You know, like a hunch. A creepy feeling. A sense of foreboding—"

  "Dread—" Alma interrupted, thinking about her mood even before she became untethered in time.

  "Precisely," Cassidy said. "The negative things stick out, but people don't realize the sense works for other things. Like a lucky streak or a happy feeling out of nowhere. And then there's one that every IM has noted, which involves use of the words like 'fate' and 'destiny.'"

  Cassidy paused to make sure she had everyone's attention and for dramatic effect. "When ordinary humans use those words, ninety-nine out of a hundred times, something big is going to happen—life-changing. And they sense it."

  "So I am supposed to kill him," Alma said.

  "Not so fast, bella," Leo said. "It does not work quite like that. They could think that falling in love with someone is their destiny, but the truth bears out that this heartache from unrequited love causes their life to go into a downward spiral from which they never recover. Regular mortals know something is going to happen, but they rarely guess it right."

  Alma looked down, her face warm with embarrassment. She'd only thought it was her destiny. Maybe her destiny was to die at the hands of this life-sucking paramortal. And then the truth about who she was struck her. "But I'm not a regular mortal. I travel through time, and I'm my mother's daughter."

  And my daughter. Leo smiled. "That is a valid point—very valid." He took a sip of his martini, put it on the table, and then leaned back in the chair. "But your plan, it is dangerous."

  "I agree," Doug said.

  "That's why I need help. I need to learn everything you know about this vampire, and I have to figure out how to control my power so I can go back in time and hunt him down."

  "You're going to try to change history?" Leo asked.

  "I don't think that's possible," Cassidy said.

  "But time is an illusion. So I can change it, right?" Alma said, turning to Leo.

  Leo shrugged.

  "Seriously?" Cassidy interjected.

  "I don't know. How could I know?" Leo asked.

  "You've been talking about all of this for lifetimes, and now when we need answers you've got nothing," Cassidy said.

  "I have plenty of answers. I have given answer after answer since I have come here. I just cannot confirm you can alter the past."

  The two argued for a few minutes until Alma interrupted. "I need to know what you know about time travel and this paramortal that's after me."

  "You mean vampire," Doug said.

  "Is he really a vampire though?" Alma asked, wanting to avoid the word.

  Leo and Cassidy exchanged looks. Leo said, "I can tell you what I know. You decide."

  Leo drained his second martini and set the glass on the table, trying to think of where to start. Alma needed to understand that monster that had killed him and her mother had been around a long time. "In my first few lives in Rome, I noticed a pattern in one of the wealthier households. With each generation, the head of the household had an advisor that had appeared in the village as a penniless stranger. The advisor would stay on and help the next head of the household, and when he died about fifteen years later another young stranger would appear and become the new advisor. I began to think that this man was like me. Living from life to life, remembering the history of the family and keeping that wisdom alive.

  "When during my third or maybe fourth life yet another penniless stranger came to town, I approached him and made friends. He said his name was Marcus, and I introduced myself. I hinted about what I was and what I expected he was, but he gave no indication that he knew what I was talking about. I proceeded to tell him a very memorable story about a young lady I'd known."

  "That's how you approached me," Cassidy said. "I don't remember anyone named Marcus."

  "This was before we met," Leo said, glaring at Cassidy. She took the hint and stopped talking. "But by this time I wasn't sticking around Rome as much. I'd lived there so long and wanted to see more of the world. But I got lucky, so to speak, and that particular advisor died shortly after arriving in our town.

  "I found myself near the small town again in my next life and went back to see if the family had gained another advisor, and sure enough they had. He'd only just arrived. Many in the village assumed he was a distant relative that had been orphaned because he was accepted into the house, but not as a slave. But I suspected different. And I wasn't the only one interested in the young man.

  "Another man whose name I was never able to find out was also following Marcus around town. I waited until my fellow spy wasn't around and approached Marcus at the bathhouse one day. When I called out to him, I could've sworn that I noticed the man start to turn to me and then stop himself. I rushed to catch up with him and introduced myself as Leo.

  "We spoke, and I slipped the story about the woman into the conversation. Unlike before, he seemed not to believe me. He even claimed to have heard the story before. Now, I will admit, I had told the story to a number of people, but I was sure he remembered me telling it to him. And I told him so.

  "He got a strange look on his face like I'd caught him, and I had. I reassured him that I wouldn't tell anyone about his secret, but he still wouldn't admit that he was one of us. Marcus, or whatever his name was that I can't remember now, rushed off. Now, I may have spooked him, but I'm not sure."

  Alma stifled a sigh. She realized that Leo was the kind of person who would only take longer if she interrupted him. But she really wanted to know what all this had to do with the alleged vampire.

  Doug took a long swig of his beer, and Cassidy shifted in her seat.

  "I know, I know," Leo said, waving his hands. He sensed he was losing his audience. "You're wondering about the vampire. Well, later that night I'm thinking 'I hope that my secret is safe with this Marcus. I'm hoping that no one believes him if he tells them the story.' Then I think if I should see him again that I should tell him I was only joking.

  "The next day I do see him, but that man is following him. And I get a very strange feeling from this man. So I followed the man following Marcus.

  "I wasn't following too closely, because I did not want to be seen. So I turned a corner, and they're both gone. I imagined they'd walked farther ahead, but there's two ways to turn. So I rushed up to see if I could see either of them, and that's when I feel this wind. And the air feels so different. Like when you go down too fast in an airplane and your ears pop. Except then I didn't know of airplanes."

  Alma sat up and leaned closer. "Like an air pressure drop," she said. "That's what I feel when I travel in time. Like I'm falling."

  Leo smiled with surprise and paused to ponder that thought. "That is interesting. The sensation was very similar to the experience of falling, but it hadn't occurred to me, because I wasn't falling. I was just standing on the street."

  "The vampire, Leo," Cassidy said." "You were getting to the vampire."

  "Yes, well, I turn the corner. There is wind. The falling feeling. And I see
the back of the stranger hunched over someone I cannot see, but I believe is Marcus. At first, I hoped they may be secret lovers. But my stomach is very unsettled. I felt... how can I describe it?"

  "Dread," Alma said.

  Leo's eyes grew wide. "That is it. Dread. But I feel compelled to see what is going on. I crept closer, and I see what could be blood dripping down the stranger's arm. But with the wind, it is hard to tell. And who I think is the young man Marcus, was slumped over. Like he has collapsed. I rush over to help, but then I stop. I cannot believe what I am seeing. The body of Marcus is not a body at all. It looks like a long tattered paper bag. But then I see the outline of a skeleton, and I think I must be seeing things. The wind blows harder and harder, and I realize I am backing away with fear, but I cannot keep from staring at the man.

  "I have to squint, because sand and wind is getting into my eyes, and what I think was Marcus turns to dust and disappears.

  "The stranger stands there, and I back away looking for somewhere to hide. My feet shuffle on the ground, but it doesn't make too much noise. But the stranger, he hears me and turns around.

  "Our eyes lock. For a moment I'm frozen with fear. But then I run away, and I think I can hear him laugh.

  "Lifetimes go by, and I am in Bangkok visiting you," Leo said, pointing to Cassidy, "and your patient, Bo."

  "Bangkok. Was that the last time?" Cassidy asked.

  "Yes," Leo said.

  "The cholera. His whole family line, or most of it, must've died," Cassidy said, shaking her head. "He was probably better off. He had lots of problems. We couldn't help him."

  "I thought so, but maybe not," Leo said. "Hooman came to Awaken me this time."

  "You haven't needed an Awakening in five lifetimes," Cassidy said.

  "But with so many of us not coming back, and I was thirteen and not Awakened," Leo said.

  Cassidy shot a questioning look at Leo. He shrugged his shoulders. "What about the theory that our psychosis over many lifetimes kept us from Awakening? And the possibility that that's why most of humanity doesn't remember past lives?" she asked.

 

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