“Dad, stop!” Israel ripped his ear buds out and grabbed the back of his moms seat.
“We’re almost there son, hold it till we get into town.” His voice was calm and low, his ‘don’t push it’ voice.
He didn’t know why but he had to get out, needed to follow that thing he’d seen. “I have to stop… I’m gonna be sick! NOW!”
He was yelling, he never yelled, never so much as raised his voice, he was the quiet brooding type. His face tingled and he flexed his legs, it was getting hard to breathe.
“Okay, okay, just don’t throw up in the car. Roll your window down if you can’t make it,” his dad said. He threw him an irritated look.
Israel stuck his face out the window as the minivan slowed and his dad pulled off the main road into a small dirt cutout. There it was again, a flash of silver in the trees, slowing as if following the car.
Before the van came to a full stop Israel sprang out and ran toward the woods.
Legs pumping, he could hear his mom calling after him. He didn’t care, it was nothing, he was nothing, it was—
Branches slapped his body and face. He tripped on something and went down hard. Dirt and rocks dug into his hands sending pain up his arms. He clawed at the ground and got to his feet. The wooded area opened up and a clearing of grass and wild flowers stretched in front of him. It was breathtaking, but something wasn’t right. This was not right, the woods, the trees, his beating heart and dry mouth.
Smelling the air, he waited. He didn’t know why, but he did. Breathing in the scent of pine trees and wet earth, he turned at the sight of movement a hundred yards or so, just north of the clearing.
A warm stream of urine ran down his legs as he stared at … what?
There were no words.
Knees weak, he fell to the ground shaking. Sobbing he wiped at his eyes trying to see through his tears. He didn’t know what to do. There was a force, calling him somehow as if they were connected. He liked it yet a part of him feared what it meant.
It turned and looked at him, eyes like glass. The monster stood well over ten feet tall and almost as wide, yet it moved so fast, so smooth. Like nothing he’d seen on earth before. Did it have fur? His mind ran through the possibilities but came up short, how could something so machine like have fur? All he wanted to do was run, to cry in his mother’s arms and find comfort, but he couldn’t look away.
Then, it vanished.
Wiping his eyes again, he scanned the clearing.
Nothing.
Had he imagined it? His gut told him no but where had it gone?
The connection broke. Israel stood to his feet. He stumbled backward; the ground was black, charred and smoking. Was there a fire, why didn’t he feel it?
He was standing in the middle of some sort of blast area. His hands were warm and he turned them over to find that his palms were black as well. They didn’t hurt but the skin blistered and to his amazement the white flesh began to flake away and—heal.
“Almost here! Are you kids excited?” He looked up from his burnt hands at his father’s eyes peering at him in the rearview mirror of the minivan. How did he get back here? His arms were unscathed, his pants dry.
Was he dreaming? Burping he held back the bile that wanted to come up. It was happening again, just like last time.
So what was going on with him? He was living these things, and they were real. Sort of. There was no proof. This last one really shook him up, his palms still had black smudges and he could remember parts of it.? How much was real and how much was all in his head? He remembered four other times he had an incident, it was not something he could forget.
“We’re thinking of letting you guys take a few classes in school this year, just to get you out more, you know, have a social life.”
Foster the People blared in his ears and he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Searching the woods as they flew by his window, he could feel a tug, something calling him. This time he would not stuff it under, he needed to find out what was wrong with him.
***
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH me?” Israel muttered as they pulled into town.
“Where should I start? Neurotic, mean, ugly, and a complete bore.” Molly crossed her arms and gave him her signature grin, the one that said, ‘you’re beneath me in so many ways.’
“I wasn’t talking to you, just thinking out loud.”
“Thinking? Really, did it hurt?” Molly chuckled and Israel contemplated punching her in the arm.
Molly was younger then him by two years, but at 15 she was uber smart. And annoying. Her scores on state tests were off the charts and she was all but graduated. Israel didn’t like her much, well that wasn’t true. He loved her because she was his sister, but she was a punk.
“Whatever Molly.” Nice, a brilliant comback.
They pulled into the gas station and Israel unbuckled.
“No junk food you two. Think about your bodies,” his mom called after him. Molly rolled her eyes as she rounded the front of the mini van. She was tall for her age and showed signs of the change. Blonde and full of spunk, she always had boys flocking to her as if she were made of candy or something. Israel hunched over and pulled his hoodie up and followed Molly into the Chevron.
“Think about your bodies,” Molly mocked. “Really Issi, she’s like the food Nazi. I hate hiding food in my room like a prisoner. A girl just needs some chocolate every now and then.”
“Yeah, well, you know how she is … I don’t think she is gonna change any time soon.”
“Did you know that she made me eat this nasty barley stuff the other day? She said it would help my cramps.”
“Ugh, Molly, gross, come on!”
“It’s true.”
Israel turned up his iPod and walked down the candy isle. Grabbing a Snickers and a bag of mixed nuts. He paid and shoved the Snickers into his pocket, making sure to toss the receipt in the trash on the way out.
Climbing into the back seat he held up the bag of mixed nuts and his mom nodded approvingly.
Molly took forever as usual. Dad pumped gas and Israel closed his eyes and tossed a handful of nuts into his mouth. The blackouts, visions or whatever they were worried him, did he have a tumor or something?
His father sighed as he got into the van. “Gas prices are out of control. 98 bucks to fill up, 98 bucks!”
“Yes well, it’s all part of what we must pay to enjoy this great country. You should be glad we have a car and you got a new job.” His mother patted him on the arm.
Here they went again, it was their fake ‘we love everyone and never get stressed out about anything’ attitudes. Israel groaned and reached in his pocket, grabbing the Snickers bar.
“You’re right dear, its a small price to pay for what we have, we’re truly blessed.”
Gag.
“Hey Issi, you looking forward to taking a few classes at school this year, maybe make some new friends?”
“Um, yeah, sure.” He wanted a good friend like Frank, wanted it badly but he would never let his parents know that.
“Now Son, you sound like you’re not excited about this. Just think—new house, new friends, new experience, it’ll be great!”
“Sure Dad … Just tired, I’m excited—really!” It was all he could do to fake it, but he’d learned from the best.
***
THEIR NEW HOUSE WAS just OK. As expected. It was in the Waterford District, whatever that was. It was in the poor side of town. Most the houses were older and rundown.
“I thought you were gonna make more money?” Molly said what everyone else was thinking but didn’t have the nerve to say out loud.
“I am making a lot more money, but we can fix this house up and make it our own. It will be a great character building project.”
“Great,” Molly muttered.
“What was that dear?” Mom said with a threatening smile.
“Nothing,”
“This is a great house.” Mom said. “It’s older, yes, b
ut just think, you can make your rooms just the way you want them.”
Israel watched this exchange with some amusement. Molly should have known better then to expect something nice. It was not the James family style.
“Can we go in?” Israel said.
“Sure thing, sport. Go on in and pick out your new room.”
“Thanks dad.”
Israel made his way up the broken porch and into the damp smelling house. It was rather large and had a wide staircase leading up to a second floor. The paint on the walls was peeling and Israel guessed the place was over one hundred years old.
“This house is like the haunted mansion from a movie,” Molly groaned and looked around in disgust. “Mom, come on … we can’t live here, this place should be condemned!”
“Molly dear, it’ll be great, just you wait and see. Now be a good girl and go pick out your room, there are plenty to choose from.” Her tone dropped and Molly caught on to the inflection.
The house was huge. Israel counted six rooms. He found his as soon as he walked though the doorway. It was large, and had a window with a window seat overlooking the street, and a side window that looked out over the neighbor’s yard.
There was no door but he could fix that. He’d lived in places like this his whole life.
Tossing his backpack onto the window seat he opened the door to a walk-in closet. This was perfect. He would never admit it to his parents, but this place rocked. It was old, creepy, had lots of rooms, and Israel was sure it held some secrets. He would make it his mission to discover all of them.
“Found one you like?”
Israel jumped as his dad’s overly-chipper voice.
“Uh … yeah.”
“Good. I’ll figure out something to give you some privacy. Can’t have a cool pad without a door,” Dad said.
Molly walked by the open doorway and thrust her head forward and shuffled her feet as is she were being dragged to her death.
“Come on Molly, it’s not that bad. Pick a room and help me get the van unloaded.”
Once he was alone again Israel munched on the rest of his Snickers bar and sat with his legs up in the window seat and checked out the house next door. They had one of the nice houses on the street and even had a pool.
He watched a girl swim laps and about choked when she got out. She was in a bikini and was tall with dark nearly black hair. Ducking down he watched her pick up a book and lay down on a towel.
Things were looking up, cool old house, hottie next door and his sister was miserable. Maybe this move wouldn’t be so bad after all.
* * *
“ISSI, MOLLY, DINNER.”
Israel stared up at the cracked ceiling and let the room have him. He dozed off and must have been really out as most of his clothes were unpacked and folded neatly on the floor in front of his dresser.
The moving van showed up an hour after they arrived and the movers emptied the van and he was left to put his bed together. Israel didn’t have much furniture to speak of, a bed, dresser and a writing desk. He liked to write, short stories and maybe one day a novel.
“Dinner.” Her voice was sharper and Israel rolled out of his bed and took the stairs two at a time. Everyone was already seated and at once he knew something was wring. Molly sat all stiff and mom and dad were extra chipper.
“Have a seat son.” Dad waved a hand to a chair across from Molly.
Heat burned his palms and the feeling was almost pleasant. Sitting down he waited.
“I went ahead and ordered us a pizza, I know, I know, it is so bad for you but I wanted to make this day special.” Molly had her head down and would not look at him. Something was definitely up.
The smell of pepperoni and hot cheese made Israel’s mouth water. Dad opened the large pizza box with a Garbanzo’s Pizza label on the lid. He placed a large slice on Molly’s plate and one on his and moms. Shutting the lid Israel looked up at what his mom was holding out to him.
“Here you go dear,” She handed him an empty Snickers wrapper and a fork.
Stunned Israel just stared at the wrapper unable to move. Mom leaned over and placed the Snickers wrapper on his plate and slid the fork next to his plate.
“So, big day tomorrow. Molly, you and I should go shopping, pick out some cool stuff for your new room.” Molly nodded and stared at her pizza, hair hanging over her face.
Dad took a huge bite and grinned. “Wow, this is amazing, I didn’t know how hungry I was till I took a bite.”
The Snickers bar wrapper lay there as if mocking him. Warm heat flared in his neck and arms. Keeping calm he looked up and smiled. “I know what you mean dad, so hungry.” Taking the wrapper he crumpled it up and shoved it into his mouth.
He somehow managed to get it down and Molly finally looked up and smiled at him. It was not a cruel smile but one of knowing. They were in this together and no matter how they felt about each other they would always have each other’s back.
* * *
“ISRAEL JAMES, THAT’S A different name, are your parents religious?”
Israel sat on the edge of the examination table and shivered. “Sorta, but not really. I think they were being weird just to be weird.”
Doctor Bradshaw laughed. It was a good laugh, deep and pronounced. “Well, I guess that is as good a reason as any.” The big man placed the cold, no freezing stethoscope on his bare chest and Israel breathed in deep. He knew the drill.
“What do you think of Silverwood so far? Make any new friends?”
“Not yet just got in yesterday.” The paper on the table crackled and Israel tried not to move so much, it was annoying.
“I think you will like it, we got a good thing going here. I grew up here and even played football for the Silverwood Heralds, that may mean nothing to you now but they took state every year I played. Now…not so much.”
“You play quarterback?”
“Linebacker,”
“Nice,”
“I went over your charts that your other doctor sent over. You have quite a history,” Dr. Bradshaw looked over his glasses at Israel and half smiled. “Do you know what you have, I mean to say, do you understand what it is?”
“I think so, there is some fancy word for it but the short story is my blood is to thick, I make to much or something, so I have to get bleed every three months or so.”
“That’s about right.”
“I’ve had it all my life so it’s no biggie, just have to remember to go in.”
“Have you had any shortness of breath or loss of energy?”
“Nope, sometimes I get overheated but my last doctor said that was normal for my condition.”
Doctor Bradshaw rolled back and looked Israel up and down. “I am a little concerned, your bone mass is not where it should be, and by the look of your skin you are lacking is some key nutrition. Are you eating enough?”
The cold steel under his feet and the lack of clothing gave him the chills but he was not cold now. Warmness crawled up his arm and Israel began to sweat.
“Enough, but my mom harps on me to eat better, I like sugar and soda.”
Dr. Bradshaw nodded and wrote something in his chart. “I am going to put you on a prenatal supplement. I put pregnant mothers on this as a way to get extra nutrition, Now, now, don’t worry, it s not a drug or something just for girls. It is a really strong multi vitamin. You need to take one with each meal or three times a day, just make sure you eat something with it as it can give you a gut ache.”
“That it?”
“Yes, the nurse will come in and take some blood, you can get dressed if you like, we have a more comfortable chair in the other room. Have you eaten today?”
“Yes.” Israel lied.
“Good. It was good to meet you, I want to run some tests on your blood to confirm a few questions I have, but aside from the results I’ll see you in three months.”
“Thanks.”
Israel lay back on the table after dressing and took a deep breath in and let it
out slowly. Drawing up his hands he stared at his palms. They looked normal yet he could feel the warmth. What was going on?
Read the rest of The ‘Naturals, available now.
A Preview of USA Today Bestseller:
SWEET DREAMS
Book 1 in the WJA series
A Mark Appleton Thriller
Chapter One
JULY. TEHRAN, IRAN. IT wasn’t just hot. It was hell. The heat would melt shoes to the pavement if a person stood in one place too long. The night air should bring some relief with its cool, musty smell of sand and sweat. However, it seemed this evening the cooling desert would not give up any of its pride and send a much-needed breeze into the city. No, this night was muggy, sticky, and just plain miserable.
Despite the heat, tonight was like any other night for Hokamend. Seated on a pillow in his private quarters, he was reading, like he did every night. This evening, the book was The Fall of America.
He and his best friend, who’d been killed in a bus bombing six years earlier, had spent countless hours together going over the plans and drawings of the Chicago metro system, trying to find the perfect place to set off the explosive.
Muttering a prayer to Allah for success, he looked through the open window at the sky and noticed it was devoid of stars. A storm was moving in to tease them with the possibility of sweet relief from the godforsaken heat. But he knew in the end the cloud would leave without so much as a drop of rain.
He envied his friend, who was in a place beyond this world, a place he could only dream of. He turned back to his book, reminding himself of all the work yet to be done. Someone had to complete the job, someone had to finish off those arrogant Americans.
His hatred for America and disdain for the people who infested the land made him want to spit. He pictured their smug faces and fancy cars. He would bring the infidels to their knees. He would wake the sleeping giant, then rip its head off.
A bodyguard walked past his door. He heard footsteps and it jolted him out of his daydream. His guards were the best that money could buy. They walked in four shifts and in different patterns every hour to keep lurking enemies confused. Hokamend was a careful man. He never took chances with his own life. True, he demanded his followers to give up their lives in service to Allah, but he was different. With a half-million-dollar American government bounty on his head, he was worth more, much more.
The Airel Saga Box Set: Young Adult Paranormal Romance Page 92
