As more saliva built up in Sydney’s mouth she gagged. The sharp metallic taste of blood coated her teeth and tongue and she tried to spit it out but the motion caused another flare of pain and her eyes began to water involuntarily. What happened to me? She wracked her brain trying to figure out why she hurt so badly? Her heart kicked her in the ribs when she realized she had no idea where she was or how she got here. What’s worse, when she couldn’t remember where she was or why, she tried to remember the basics, looking for a starting point. With horror, she realized she couldn’t remember her own name. It felt like taking a step and expecting something solid beneath you only to find nothing but empty air. Her heart fluttered into her throat as her panic rose. How can I not remember my name?
Sydney forced herself to take deep breaths and lay back into the damp grass. There has to be a good explanation for this. I must have fallen or something. Busted my face and gave myself a concussion. My memory will come back. Amnesia is kinda bullshit, right? But Sydney realized she had no idea. If she couldn’t remember her own name how could she trust anything she thought?
Sitting up again, Sydney brought her hand to her face. Her movements were causing the fresh blood to pool against the coagulated blood and it was making it hard to breathe. She paused with her hand halfway to her face. As the sun rose higher Sydney could make out something written on her forearm underneath the semi-dried mud. Careful to not smudge the waxy looking words, Sydney picked and wiped away the chunks and flakes of dirt.
DONT LET THEM FIND YOU
Her heart began thumping against her chest again. She looked around quickly, sure she would see “them” creeping up on her while she was distracted. Well, that explains the feeling of panic and the need to run, she thought to herself. She was surprised how quickly she believed the words, but then again, why wouldn’t she? She scooted closer to the bush behind her hoping to shield herself in its shadow. She was sure she had written the words herself. It wasn’t because she recognized the writing, because she had no idea what her own handwriting looked like. But it was logic. She knew she was right handed (that didn’t take a memory to figure out) and the words were written on her left arm. Sydney wondered if someone else wrote the message and knew that it was possible, but something told her that wasn’t the case.
Sydney rested her forehead in her right hand and tried to remember anything at all. But her mind was a painful blank. If someone else had written the words, where were they now? Or, if someone cared enough to warn her why would they then leave her dazed, confused and on her own. Another realization rocked her. Whoever ever had written the words had done it to warn her—but why would they feel the need to leave a message on her. Unless they knew that she wouldn’t realize she was in danger. Did that mean that she, or someone else, knew that she was going to lose her memory? How is that even possible? There isn’t anything that can just take your memory away, is there?
Sydney looked around again to make sure she was still alone. She couldn’t see anything other than the peaceful water, a narrow, grassy, strip of sand and several early birds diving for their breakfast. The panic that she had first felt upon waking was even stronger in light of situation. Every instinct she had told her to get up and hide. She didn’t know who or what was after her, but she just couldn’t let them find her.
Having no reason to not heed the words on her arm, she took the warning seriously. She climbed, clumsily, to her feet and cringed at the state of her clothes. They were streaked with mud, sand and drops of fresh blood. She wasn’t wearing any shoes and sharp rocks stabbed at her bare feet. Sydney climbed the short, sandy embankment to a thin strip of grass. Turning in a circle she hoped she would recognize a landmark or anything to help jog her memory. Nothing. She saw the giant lake, a narrow beach, an empty road and a thick copse of trees on the other side.
Syd began walking towards the low concrete wall that divided the tiny beach from the road in front of her. She tripped when she stepped on her own pant leg and nearly fell on her face. The jolt and surprise brought blood to her head and caused a renewed throbbing. Righting herself, she pulled up her jeans and held them out from her waist. Either she was wearing someone else’s clothes, or she had lost a significant amount of weight recently. She ran her hand across her nearly concave stomach and figured the jeans were at least three sizes too big. As was her shirt she realized as she pulled it forward and the collar hung around her neck like a loose scarf.
Brushing dirty, practically dread-locked, hair out of her face, Sydney felt a sob rise up from her stomach. The confusion, fear and disorientation was beginning to be too much. She wanted to sit down and cry until the world made sense again. Instead, she took a deep breath, forced the sob back down and hiked up her pants and crossed the wall. Not trusting herself, she took the easy way over by sitting on it and swinging both of her legs over at the same time. She could have walked down the road to find an intersection, or an easier place to cross. But the road was deserted and she was in a hurry to move. On the other side of the road were thick trees that looked like the edge of a forest and Sydney was headed for their cover.
Sydney wasn’t sure what month it was, but she suspected spring or fall as the ground was as cold against her feet as the air was against her skin. She had to go over another low concrete barrier but she was among the trees in less than a minute. She stumbled, climbed and tripped her way into the shadows, making sure she could still see the road, but was far enough back to be mostly hidden from drivers who might pass.
She knew she should probably flag down a car and ask them to call the police for her, but she looked at the words written on her arm again and shook her head to herself. She had no idea if the words were pointless or a life-saving warning, but she decided to err on the side of caution. For now she would stay away from anyone and everyone until she had a handle on her situation. Her short term plan? Get somewhere she could clean herself up, then try to figure out who she was and who could be after her.
Xander
After Sydney stormed away, Xander finished off his beer and sank deeper into the booth. Nice one, he grumbled to himself.
“Can I get you another one, hon?” Sherry, the haggard waitress asked him.
“Sure, Sher, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” A few minutes later she smoothly slid a glass towards him without spilling a drop. She slid into the other side of the booth groaning with the relief of being off her feet for a moment. “She didn’t feel like dancing tonight?” she chuckled.
“Apparently not,” Xander grinned at the woman. “Can you believe it?”
“Heh,” Sherry half laughed, half coughed. “Eats you up, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah…” Xander sighed.
“She’ll come around.”
“Yeah?” he finally looked at Sherry directly. The woman had been a knockout at one time. Now she just looked tired and road weary. He had known her for years since she and her husband owned The Pit and used to ride with the club.
“Oh, yeah. She will. She just needs to run for a while. Until she figures out how exhausting running can get. You just need to be there at the finish line.”
Xander nodded at the woman’s wisdom. “Is that how Jameson got you?”
“Damn straight,” she laughed and threw back the shot she had brought herself. The faded rose tattoo on the back of her hand caught the light and Xander smiled.
“Sherry, you’re a doll. If Jameson wouldn’t skin me alive I’d take you for a spin around the floor, if you get my drift,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Honey, I’d hate to ruin you for that little thing you just ran out of here,” she laughed her smoky “heh, hehs” and slid out of the booth.
“Well if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” Xander smacked her playfully on the ass as she went by. When he looked up the grizzly Jameson was pointing at him with a half serious scowl. He raised his hands in mock defeat and drained the last of his beer before leaving the table.
&
nbsp; He walked few blocks to where he had left his truck, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head down to keep the sting of the air out of his eyes. The smell of coconut and honey drifted towards him and he glanced up sharply. Sydney was on the other side of the street walking towards him. She didn’t seem to realize he was there and he thought about calling her name, but changed his mind. She had made it clear she didn’t want to spend time with him, but he was hesitant to leave her out here alone. His shoulders jerked with indecision but finally he chose to double back to the corner that would give him a clear view of her all the way to her apartment. That way he could keep an eye on her but not piss her off at the same time.
Watching her walk away is pretty nice anyway, he smiled to himself. He pulled a joint out of his jacket and lit up. The sting of the smoke and bite of the air was rough and he winced, trying not to cough. He leaned against a street sign and crossed his legs at the ankle. He wondered what she would do if he caught up to her and proved to her just how much fun they could have. His groin jerked and he flexed his hand imagining just how good her ass would feel. He laughed at his own imagination and shook himself out of the fantasy as Sydney unlocked the door to her and Shay’s apartment. He put the joint out and stuck the rest back inside his jacket.
Stop being a stalker, he told himself. He was itching to get back to the garage and finish up what he had started.
Chapter Five
Back at the apartment, Sydney was relieved to see that Shay wasn’t home yet. It wasn’t too late and Sydney assumed that Shay and Zak had found something or some-guy to get into. Zak has been friends with Shay and Xander for years. They met when they were all just kids. Then he worked for Shay until he earned his grooming license and opened his own business. He had a mobile grooming van and traveled all around the city making rich people’s dogs pretty. On Wednesdays he was stationed at Shay’s shop and it helped bring in business for them both. Syd wasn’t surprised they were still out, Zak and Shay loved live music and, more often than not, they ended up closing down bars if anyone was playing.
Sydney peeled off her clothes and climbed into bed. She was exhausted from the hangover, coming down from the weed, weakened by the panic attack over Xander and weary from then walking around the city. She was asleep in a matter of minutes and didn’t even stir when Zak and Shay stumbled in less than an hour later laughing and tripping over each other. As Sydney dropped into REM sleep her body twitched as her muscles relaxed.
***
Sydney walked the streets in a dazed confusion. The sky was dark even though she couldn’t see any clouds, instead it was as if the shadows from the city were reflected above. She shivered even though she wasn’t cold. She realized she was carrying something in her hand and lifted it to her face. It was a bright, glowing orb resting heavily on her palm. In fact, the longer she looked at it the heavier it became and despite how bright it glowed it was neither cold nor hot. Unsure as to what it was, uneasiness caused her skin to prickle uncomfortably. She wanted to drop the strange ball of light, instead she closed her fingers over it protectively. She didn’t know why she needed to take care of it, but her subconscious made sure she did. She began to walk again, searching for an answer as to what was happening. Every few steps she took she tripped despite the fact that there was nothing to trip over. Finally, she stopped walking again and looked around. It only took a second for her to realize why she was having trouble walking. The whole world was tilted slightly. It wasn’t a drastic shift but it was enough to throw her off kilter.
Syd’s stomach rolled and she blinked hard. Something had to be wrong with her equilibrium—that’s the only explanation that made sense. Or, am I drunk? She looked around trying to remember where she was going, or coming from. But she drew a blank. At first she began to panic, assuming that she had lost her memory again. But she quickly realized that if she had lost her memory again she wouldn’t remember ever having amnesia before. She stumbled to the brick wall of the closest store and leaned against it, trying to get her bearings. She sucked in several gasping breaths trying to stave off the rising nausea. The whole time, she clench her hand around the orb as if it would protect her even though she was starting to wonder if the thing was the cause of all this since it was so weird in and of itself.
Looking for help, Sydney surveyed her surroundings. The streets were deserted. Furthermore, she couldn’t make out the names of any of the business around her. They were blurred, damaged or too small. And nothing looked familiar. Pushing off the wall she continued walking, hoping to find something recognizable. Soundlessly, the empty streets suddenly flooded with people and Sydney was knocked forward when someone slammed into her back. She barely stopped herself from crashing into the sidewalk by instinctively grabbing the arm of the man passing on her left.
The man scowled at Sydney in disgust and yanked his arm from her grasp. “Help me,” she called after him. His only response to glance at her over his shoulder with surprise and confusion. A moment later the look melted into annoyance before he turned back and continued on his way.
The panic grew in Syd’s stomach until it felt like a terrified animal trying to climb its way out of her throat. A woman in the river of people caught her attention. She was elderly and looked kind, as if she was someone’s grandmother. Syd reach out to her, hesitant to touch anyone again after the man’s reaction. “Help me.”
The woman paused and turned to Sydney looking confused and alarmed. “Are you OK?” The woman asked gently.
“I don’t know.”
The old woman looked more confused. “Do you speak English?”
Sydney froze. Of course I do. I’m speaking English. “Yes…” she answered baffled by the question.
“Hablas espanol?” the woman asked with a tilt of her head.
Sydney didn’t actually speak Spanish but the question was common enough that she understood. “No. I speak English!” She spoke loudly and enunciated the words clearly in case the woman was just hard of hearing.
“I’m sorry.” The woman shook her head beginning to look agitated. “I don’t know what language you are speaking.”
Sydney’s mouth hung open. Why can’t she understand me? Her throat tightened in frustrated despair. She gave up on the woman and turned back to the fast moving crowd of people. She had to just be hard of hearing, or maybe senile. That was the only logical explanation. Sydney lurched into the stream of people as the old woman began walking away. She looked back at her a couple of times before disappearing into the crowd, her face twisted by concern and confusion. Syd almost felt sorry for the poor woman.
A young, blonde was hurrying towards Sydney and she stepped into her path. The young woman drew up short and glared at her while wrinkling her nose. “Can you please help me?” she practically sobbed.
“Fuck off,” the woman snarled.
Sydney stepped backwards in shock. “I-I’m sorry.” She held up the orb as if it could explain things.
The woman looked at it in revulsion. “Go back where you came from or learn to speak English.”
The blonde darted around Sydney leaving her swaying in shock. “I am speaking English,” she muttered to herself. She gave up trying to get anyone to help her and tried to follow the flow of people. She was too dizzy and disoriented to keep up with the crowd and kept being buffeted about like a piece of trash in the wind. Finally, after a solid bump from a man, Sydney stumbled too hard to regain her balance and crashed to the ground.
The fall didn’t hurt as much as Sydney expected it would. Instead, it was jolting and knocked the breath from her lungs. Struggling to her knees she gulped at the air as she crawled out of the rush of people, realizing that she still held the orb despite her fall. She made it to the wall next to her and put her back to it. The orb in her hand seemed to be brighter and heavier than it had at first. Drawing her knees to her chest she rested her forehead on them. She forced herself to take several deep calming breaths before raising her head. The street was deserted again and a stra
ngled cry broke out of her as she pushed away from the wall. Crawling on her hands and knees she was headed towards the road. At the corner, Syd used a stop sign to pull herself to her feet.
The world began to spin as Sydney stumbled into the intersection. It was all she could do to stay upright. She felt like she was in a carnival funhouse as everything tilted and spun uncontrollably. Once she had a clear view of all four directions a scream built up in her throat but was stuck behind her shock. Every road leading from the four way intersection was the exact same. She continued to sway drunkenly in a circle trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The fourth building on the left in all directions was a deep red. The first building on the right had a large picture window with pink illegible writing. Far down the street a blue sandwich board with equally indecipherable writing sat on the edge of the sidewalk. It didn’t matter which direction she faced, she saw the same thing. “What? What? What is this?” she moaned as she finally lost her balance and fell face forward towards the pavement.
***
Sydney sat straight up in bed with her mouth stretched wide, a croaking sound leaking out of her throat. Her heart was slamming in her chest and her head throbbed painfully. Once her brain cleared enough for her to realize she was awake and safely in bed she began to regain control over her breathing. Laying down again she stared up at the ceiling trying to make sense of the nightmare. Nothing particularly threatening happened in the dream, it was just the disoriented eeriness of the people and the place that was so unsettling.
Don't Let Them Find You (The Dyian Series Book 1) Page 3
