Red-Line: The Shift (Volume One)

by J. T. Bishop

  “I flipped the breakers. Nothing works.” The beam of light got closer, and Ramsey could make out Leroy in the dark. “I’ve got two flashlights, though.”

  “Give me one.” Happy for any illumination, Ramsey reached and took the other light from Leroy and flipped it on. Another beam of light joined the first. Ramsey swiveled it over at Declan and Hannah. Declan sat at the table, glassy eyed, as Hannah stood over him, holding the ice pack on his head. She squinted as Ramsey aimed the light toward them. He looked back at Leroy. “Stay with them. I’m going to find Sarah.”

  Before he left the room, though, he checked back in with Declan. “You’re sure you’re not picking up on anything? I don’t want to come back here and find I’m in some sort of Twilight Zone episode and all of you are gone, or worse. This is way too eerie for me.”

  Declan held his head in his hands, massaging his temples. “Go,” he said. “We’re all right.”

  “You let me know if you get something.”

  “You’ll be the first.”

  Ramsey swung the light through the room. He sought the front door and was pleased to see that it was closed and still latched from the inside, so she hadn’t left the house, at least not from the front door. He swung the light through the living area and saw everything in its place. Everything was just as messy as before. The back porch door was closed, too, and Ramsey felt sure if she’d left from there, he would have heard it. He then tried to decide between the guest rooms and the master. Guessing she would be more comfortable with the master, he headed in that direction. He aimed the light down the hall as he walked. He deliberately kept his mind blank as he moved, trying not to relive his childhood fears where as a young boy, he would wake up screaming in the dark, afraid of something he could not remember. His father had left the light on in his room until Ramsey finally outgrew the fear. This particular moment, though, vividly brought back the past, and Ramsey felt that same childhood distress he’d felt years ago bubble up in the pit of his belly.

  Doing his best to ignore his discomfort, he entered the bedroom and aimed the light through the room. The beam bounced off the walls, creating misshapen shadows. He noticed that with the lack of electricity also came the lack of sound. It was strangely quiet. There was no whirring of air moving through the vents and no humming of electricity through the air. There was only a hushed sound, and it unnerved him.

  “Sarah?” he whispered. “Sarah, are you in here?” Why he was being quiet, he didn’t know.

  He tried again, only this time he spoke normally. “Sarah? Can you hear me?” He walked into the dark bathroom but saw only the empty tub and shower. He flipped the light switch just to see if it would work. It didn’t. He turned around and aimed the light back into the room.

  “Sarah? Please answer me.”

  He thought he heard a muffled noise, and he swung the light in the direction of the sound. He found himself looking at the closed closet door.

  “Sarah, are you there?” He moved closer to the door and wondered if she’d retreated there, as she had on the first day of her Shift.

  He approached the door and couldn’t help but compare himself to some sort of movie character who is instantly slaughtered when they innocently open a deceptively safe closet door. Images of fictitious homicidal maniacs with long knives and chainsaws flew through his head as he got close enough to reach for the door handle. He regretted now watching so many horror movies. Ramsey took a breath to pull himself together. Feeling stupid, he reached for the handle.

  “Sherlock.”

  A nearby voice penetrated the stillness, and Ramsey jumped and whirled. He saw Leroy’s illuminated face staring back at him - the beam of his flashlight lighting him from the chin up.

  “Holy…” Ramsey felt the shock of it, from his feet to his hair, as every muscle in his body contracted. “…crap.’ He bent over and held himself. “Leroy, you scared the hell out of me.”

  Leroy chuckled. “Sorry.” He waited while Ramsey recovered. “You okay?”

  “I think I may have peed myself,” Ramsey responded, still holding his chest.

  “So much for tuning into me,” Leroy said, aiming his light on Ramsey. “I figured you would sense my approach.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I was distracted.” Ramsey took another breath to shake off the fear.

  “Why do you watch horror flicks if they scare you?”

  “They don’t scare me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What are you doing in here anyway?” Ramsey asked, annoyed.

  “Declan wanted me to tell you that he thinks she’s in here.”

  “What?” Ramsey did not hide his irritation. “You scared ten years off of me to tell me that? Declan obviously has a brain injury.”

  “He seemed to think it was important.”

  “Will you go and tell him that I think he’s an—” Ramsey’s comment was cut short by the sound of movement from the closet.

  Leroy heard it too and flashed his beam at the door. “I think someone’s in there.”

  Ramsey couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “Will you get the hell out of here before I start calling you something I would normally reserve for Declan?”

  “Temper, temper.” Leroy made a move to leave, but he stopped and looked back. “You want me to open the door for you and check for the bogeyman?”

  Ramsey shot a not-so-kind gesture at Leroy, and the big man laughed and exited the room.

  Ramsey yelled back at him. “You want to be helpful, then find a way to get the lights back on.”

  “Sure thing,” Ramsey heard Leroy say as he headed down the hall. “I’ll just call an electrician.”

  A colorful name flicked through Ramsey’s mind at Leroy’s retort, but he kept it to himself. Another muffled sound from the other side of the closet door brought his attention back to his originally intended task.

  He reached for the door handle again, praying it was just Sarah in the closet. If something jumped out at him, he knew for sure that he would suffer some sort of apoplectic seizure, and they would find him drooling and spouting gibberish in the corner of the room, with a lot worse than pee in his pants.

  Focusing as best he could on Sarah and not on imaginary assailants, he turned the handle and pulled the door open. He let go of the breath he held when nothing emerged from the closet. He swung the light low and almost missed the reflection of a white sock peeking out from the back. Ramsey squatted down, below the few clothes hanging inside, and shined the light. There she was, curled up in a ball and leaning against the back wall.

  All childhood fears were forgotten, and his protective instincts kicked in. “Sarah,” he said. “It’s me. Are you okay?”

  She didn’t answer him. “Sarah, I need to know if you’re all right. Please say something.”

  He was rewarded by a faint response. “Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t do that,” he answered, happy that she’d responded. “It’s in my contract. It’s my duty to rescue damsels in distress, and that, my dear, is what you currently are. So basically, if I don’t help you, I’ll get fired. Do you want that?”

  “I want to go home.”

  He felt for her and her situation. There was no satisfactory solution to offer her. All he could do was help her through it. He shifted himself into a kneeling position and started to crawl back to her, flashlight in hand. Halfway in, he could hear her sniffling and the hitch in her breath, and he knew she’d been crying. He paused and then inched his way back out, swung the flashlight over to the nightstand, and grabbed the box of tissues sitting there. He then turned around and headed back into the closet, tissues in hand.

  As he neared her, he saw she was sitting with her knees up, her arms wrapped around them, and her forehead resting on her kneecaps. He wanted to reach out to her, but he didn’t. He offered her the tissues.

  “I brought you something.”

  She made the effort to lift her head slightly, and he could see her puffy eyes and runny n
ose. She grabbed a few tissues, wiped her cheeks, and blew her nose. When she had finished, she put the tissues on the floor and put her head back down without speaking.

  He allowed her the space and time she needed and just sat next to her, his flashlight pointed toward the open door. He made no attempt to calm or pacify her. There was nothing he could think of to say that she would want to hear. She continued to sniffle, and he imagined fresh tears. His suspicions were confirmed when she reached for more tissues.

  The closet was getting warm, since there was no air circulation and no electricity. After several minutes, she finally picked her head up, even though she stared straight ahead.

  He grabbed a tissue and wiped his brow. “Feeling any better?” he asked her.

  She let her head fall back and let it rest against the back wall, but she didn’t answer him.

  He decided to try again. “You know, I get the whole hiding-out thing, but why the closet? It’s a little stifling in here.” He swung the flashlight around the tiny area, and light bounced around them. “I would think the bathroom might be more convenient. Plus you’d have access to the facilities.”

  She continued to sit without saying a word. He stopped talking and leaned back against the wall, determined to wait her out.

  Finally, she acquiesced. “It’s the carpet,” she said.

  “What?” he said, forgetting the question.

  “It’s more comfortable to sit on, plus it muffles the sound.”

  He realized then what she was talking about. “Oh. That makes sense.” He kept up the conversation. “I suppose you could rearrange your wardrobe too, while you’re in here.”

  He heard her take a deep breath and release it. “Do you always make jokes?” she asked him.

  He thought about it. “When it helps to lighten the mood. Or,” he reconsidered, “when I want to get on someone’s nerves.”

  “So pretty much all the time, then,” she responded, with more warmth in her voice this time.

  He smiled in the dark. “Did you just crack a joke?’ He imagined her smiling in return.

  “I guess so.”

  “Good. You must be feeling better.”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “One step at a time.”

  She took a second before she responded. “I think I might need a lot of steps.”

  He understood. “What is the saying?” he asked. “A journey of a thousand miles…”

  “…begins with a single step,” she finished for him.

  They sat quietly for a few minutes.

  “Why do you have a flashlight?” she asked.

  “What, this?” he asked, bobbing the light around. “I’m partial to darkness. Overhead lighting makes me look bad.”

  “No, it doesn’t. And can you be serious, please?”

  He couldn’t help but think she’d just complimented him, but he kept it to himself. “Be serious? Only because you asked. The electricity is out.”

  She sighed. “Don’t tell me. Did I do that too?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to say.”

  She didn’t say anything else as they remained where they were, sitting quietly.

  Ramsey finally had to ask. “You ready to come out of the closet?”

  Her mood finally lightened. “You’ve been waiting to say that, haven’t you?”

  “It’s been on my mind.”

  She didn’t make any move to leave, and he didn’t rush her. Finally, she spoke, almost whispering, “I’m scared.”

  He heard her vulnerability, and it touched him. “I know.” It was all he could think to say.

  “What do I do?” She sounded frail.

  His mind replayed a memory from the day he brought her here. It had worked then, and he hoped it would work again. He reached out his hand to her. “Take my hand,” he said.

  He could vaguely make out her profile as she turned her head toward him. She looked down, and seeing his arm extended, she reached out and put her hand in his. Instantly, the energy he’d felt from her that first day reignited; only now, it burned brighter and its intensity stunned him. He squeezed her fingers and felt the familiar warmth and tingles race up his arm and through his chest. He took a breath to control it, knowing if he didn’t, it would race wildly through him. He heard her take a breath as well.

  They stayed that way for several seconds before he finally asked her, “Do you trust me?”

  She squeezed his fingers. “Yes.”

  He felt the sweat pop out on his brow as he warmed considerably. They were going to have to get out of this closet soon, or the energy building between them was going to need an outlet, and he didn’t want it to be the wrong one.

  “Then don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out.”

  She was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “John?” she asked. Her use of his first name rippled through him.

  “Yes?” He realized he was holding his breath.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He almost popped off a smart comment about it being his job, but he knew it was more than that. He owed her the truth, at least as he understood it. “Because I have to.” He finally summoned the strength to look over at her. “I told you I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not.”

  “But you’re not responsible for me.”

  “Oh, yes, I am. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

  She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears.

  “What? What is it?” he asked, concerned as her emotions overtook her again.

  Her voice caught. “What if I fail?”

  “Fail?”

  “What if I can’t do what you want? What if I can’t help you?” A tear rained down her cheek, and she wiped it away with her free hand.

  He steeled himself, watching her battle new fears and insecurities. He imagined how difficult this must be for her. He deliberately cleared his mind, knowing that she could feel him through their connection, and he had to show her that he didn’t share her fear.

  “Sarah, we’ve got a long way to go before we have to worry about that. We’re only on step two. Let’s try not to think about step nine hundred and four. A lot can happen between now and then.”

  She shook her head and wiped her cheek again with her free hand.

  “How about we focus on just getting you adjusted to your new abilities and figuring out what happens next. When it’s time for you to save the world, I’ll let you know.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out fast, expelling some of the heavy energy she’d been carrying. “Okay,” she said with some relief. “We’ll save the world for later.” She grabbed a tissue and dabbed her eyes.

  He liked how she said “we,” glad that she saw the two of them as a team. The energy moving through her and into him lightened.

  She took another lungful of air and expelled it. Still holding his hand, she met his eyes again and managed a smile. “You ready to come out of the closet?”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been waiting to say that, haven’t you?”

  She continued to smile back at him, and he let his mind wander while her gaze, despite her puffy eyes and the lack of light, fluttered through him. He knew she felt it too as she held his look and rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand. “Unless you’d rather stay.”

  Her touch on his skin sent electricity through him, but her comment finally kick-started him and yanked him out of his thoughts. If he stayed put, he didn’t trust himself to keep it innocent. Tempted as he was to continue her flirtation, he knew it wasn’t the time or place.

  He cleared his throat. “It’s getting a little hot in here.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I’ll go first.”

  “Chicken.”

  He released her hand reluctantly and made his way out of the closet. When he got through the door, he stood and held his hand out to her, and she took it again before climbing out and standing next to him. The air in the bedroom felt much lighter, now that they weren�
��t so enclosed. He kept the flashlight pointed at the wall as the darkness wrapped them in privacy. Still holding his hand, she stood in front of him.

  “Feeling better now?” he asked her.

  She acted hesitant. “A little.”

  “What?”

  “I’m worried.”

  “About what?”

  “What happened to Declan. I hurt him, and I don’t even know how I did it.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He’s fine. Just remember, if your temper flares, make sure I’m not in the room.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  She made a face at him.

  “Okay, okay,” he replied with a smile, although he felt her frustration. “So you know now to pay attention to your energy when your emotions run high. If it gets to feeling erratic, you need to rein it in. It’s just a matter of paying attention to how you feel and learning to focus and maintain control. You’ll get the hang of it. I promise.”

  She looked doubtful in the minimal light, but eventually she nodded her head.

  “You want to go join the group? We can all sit in the dark together, maybe play hide and seek.”

  She took him by surprise when she moved closer to him and, letting go of his hand, brought her arms up and around him in a hug. He froze for a second with the unexpectedness of it, but then he returned it by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. Her cheek pressed against his own, and her arms encircled him. He felt the warmth of her body against his and his senses tuned completely in to her. If the hand-holding felt like a water hose, then this felt like a geyser. He didn’t want to let her go.

  Suddenly, the room electrified with the humming of the air through the vents, and the digital clock in the room began to blink. A faint light from beyond the hallway lit the room softly.

  From another area of the house, Ramsey could hear Leroy yell, “Lights are on!”

  Ignoring the resumption of power as they generated their own, they continued to stand there, embracing, neither saying a word. He felt their connection heighten as their collective energy magnified and enveloped them.

  A few seconds later, the lights flicked on in the room. “Hey, Sherlock.” With his hand on the light switch, Leroy poked his head in. “The electricity is…” He caught sight of the two of them. “Oops. Sorry to interrupt.” He flipped the light back off and left the room.