by Rob Cornell
Then an idea struck her.
She zoomed out and flew across the country to Indiana. She returned to the scene of the crash where Earl and his crew had kidnapped her. Most evidence of the attack had already been cleaned up, except for the damage to the concrete and storefronts. A red stain on the sidewalk marked the spot where she had last seen Ree.
She soared away from the scene and to Agency Headquarters. Like a ghost, she sank down through the roof and several stories. She found her way to the Agency’s own personal hospital that took up a full floor. That’s when she felt him. A faint hint of his life force that she followed until she found Ree on a hospital bed.
The heart monitor attached to him bleeped steadily. His chest rose and fell evenly with each breath. Much of the color had drained from his face, but he was still alive.
Jessie dared slip into his mind.
She caught him in the middle of a nightmare. He was reliving the attack. One moment in particular. Laying helpless on the sidewalk while he watched Earl drive away the van with Jessie inside. The anger in Ree exploded like a cluster bomb—some of the blast directed at Earl, but a good amount blew back on Ree.
Guilt.
He felt like he had failed Jessie.
Don’t worry. I’m all right now.
His dream broke apart. He gasped as he came suddenly awake. The pain through his chest and his knee hit him as if he was getting shot all over again. He gritted his teeth and looked around, expecting to see Jessie by his bedside.
I’m in your head, Ree. But it’s really me.
“Where are you?” His voice crackled like an old record. “We’ll send agents.”
It’s too late for that.
“No. We can…” He broke into a coughing fit that caused the pain from his wounds to flare. The edges of his vision closed in. But he fought to stay conscious, for Jessie’s sake.
It hurt to have to tell him the truth. She knew he would blame himself. But letting him have false hope would be worse.
I’m dead, Ree. But I didn’t go down without a fight. We stopped the bad guys.
She could feel his disappointment, but part of him refused to believe her, trying to pass it off as a dream or drug-induced hallucination.
“If you’re…dead, how are you talking to me?”
It’s a new trick I learned. Look, I’m glad you’re alive. Sorry I gave you such a hard time.
“Jessie…where…are you?”
Wish I knew. Some underground tunnel system that Gabriel Dolan used to haunt. Check all the files you have on Dolan. There might be something there to lead you to the place. At least then you can find my…well, you know.
I have to go now.
“No, wait.”
You need to sleep, Ree. Get better soon.
She sensed him about to protest, so she helped him along and pushed him back into a deep—and dreamless—sleep.
“Do you see it?” Craig asked from a distant somewhere.
Jessie drew all the way back until the vantage point from the cabin’s bay window looked like the view from an orbiting spacecraft.
“See it? Dude, I can live it.”
Craig furled his brow. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t do it?”
“All I see is the world. Like we’re floating above it. Like it’s a giant board game.”
Jessie nodded. “I can move around anywhere I want. And I can…go into people, live inside of them. Hear their thoughts. Feel everything they feel.”
His lips parted and his eyes widened. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
He pointed out the window. “That’s all yours, Jessie. I said I had some small influence from the Inbetween, but I have a feeling you can have a huge influence.”
Jessie started to tell him he was loco in the cabeza. She stopped short when she grasped what the hell he meant. A lightness filled her chest. The air flowed more easily in and out of her lungs. And it tasted fresh, like citrus.
“The prophecy,” she whispered.
“Brought full circle.” He took her by the shoulders and stooped over so his eyes came down to her level. “Give it a try.”
She was anxious to, but her visit with Ree had reminded her of something she needed to clear up if she was going to stick around Craig in their new Inbetween home.
“I have to ask you something,” she said. “And I want you to be completely honest.”
“It’s a lie,” he said before she could go any further. “Jessie, I know I’ve done some harsh things in life. But that shit the woman from the Agency told you?” He shook his head. “It’s a damn lie. She was using me to manipulate you.”
She released a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. “You saw all that, huh?”
“Do you believe me?”
She barely paused for a second. She didn’t need to think about it. Pretty easy to figure out whose word was worth more—Kinga-Roo’s or Craig’s.
“Yes,” she said. “One hundred percent.”
“Good.” He exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath too. He gestured toward the window. “Now… Let’s see what you can do.
Jessie nodded, turned to the window, and steeled herself.
Chapter Sixty-Five
FROM SOMEWHERE BELOW ON THE mortal plane, Jessie felt a tug. It was like the moment she opened herself up to the possibilities, her purpose took hold. She knew just where to go.
The world spun beneath her. It stopped above the United Kingdom. Jessie recognized the island from all those world maps she’d seen in her history and geography classes.
The tug drew her down to a London evening. She recognized the city, sadly enough, from watching Doctor Who. The tower of London stood proud over the city, its windows lit in the thickening dusk.
Jessie followed the tug to a residential part of the city, down into an alley between two apartment buildings decorated with gang tags and rust stains on the brick.
A man in a blue sport coat, shiny from too many uses, stood against a rusty fence that closed off one end of the alley. The fence rattled as he backed against it as if he could pass through the chain links if he just pushed hard enough.
The frightened man faced a pair of werewolves in full, furry shift. They growled through their foamy grins, lips pulled back from their gums to show their pointed teeth.
Jessie floated above the scene like an out of body experience. She could feel the man’s fear. She could also feel the wolves’ hunger. They had grown fond of human flesh. Not typical of werewolves, but a nasty habit that made for brutal mortal deaths.
These wolves had no right to walk the mortal plane.
Jessie centered herself and tried to draw together the energy she had so many times in life.
And it came.
“Return,” she whispered.
Blue lightning crackled and surrounded the wolves. They howled as the lightning closed in on them, then consumed them.
Seconds later, their bodies transformed into an electric blue mist, which quickly evaporated to nothing.
The wolves’ prey cried out and fell to his knees.
“Thank God,” he said.
Nope, Jessie thought. Just little ol’ me. The Return.
She didn’t stop there. She circled the globe, finding supernaturals of all stripes to Return. Time seemed to evaporate as quickly as the blue mist after every Return. Vampires, weres, goblins, and imps. Nymphs who used their wiles to drain the life force of their victims and trolls who came out from under bridges at night to eat people whole. Ogres who had forgotten the honor of their people and used their strength to take whatever they wanted from weaker mortals.
And then Jessie came upon a gnome, homeless, living in a cardboard box under a Los Angeles freeway overpass. Jessie started to send the poor gnome back to his home where he would be so much better off.
Then she stopped herself.
She realized her uninformed assumption, thought of Elka and her family whom Jessie had condemned beca
use of a similar assumption.
Jessie sank down into the gnome’s mind. She learned his name.
Arntz.
She found a glimpse of his time on the mortal plane. Not long ago he had made a fortune as a film producer. But he had to operate behind the scenes, in secret, so as not to reveal what he really was.
Then others found out.
They drove him away, their fear outweighing their sense.
Jessie asked him, Do you want to go home?
After he recovered from finding Jessie in his mind, he said, I’m gonna claw my way back to the top if it’s the last thing I do. This plane is my home, and movies are my passion.
Jessie could certainly understand that.
No, he said, I don’t want to go back.
So Jessie drifted up and away, leaving the gnome to chase his dream, as was his right. His wishes deserved the same respect as any mortal’s. He meant no harm. He posed no threat.
He would not be Returned.
Chapter Sixty-Six
JESSIE BLINKED A FEW TIMES. She was back at the cabin with Craig and felt like she had woken up from a long nap filled with wild dreams.
Craig touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “How long was I out?”
“A minute or two. But you have to remember, time is different here.”
“You can say that again,” she said with a laugh. “I was gone longer than a couple minutes. To me it could have been as long as a day.”
“That’s…” His gaze bounced back and forth between Jessie and the window. Jessie had thought Craig had seen just about anything, considering how long he had worked among the supernatural. She had never seen such a look of amazement on his face. The lines weren’t as deep. And he looked even younger than he had on the last day she had seen him alive.
She wished Mom were here. She would have gotten a kick out of Craig’s reaction. And Jessie had a feeling Mom would have also been proud of her.
Maybe, wherever she was, Mom could see one tier down into the Inbetween like Jessie could see down to the mortal world.
Yes. She can. I know she can.
“Tell me,” Craig said with ecstatic glee. “What happened? What did you do?
“What I was meant to do.” Jessie Lockman turned and looked up at her dad. “I Returned.”
* * *
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Books by Rob Cornell
The Lockman Chronicles
Darker Things (The Lockman Chronicles #1)
Dark Legion (The Lockman Chronicles #2)
Darkest Hour (The Lockman Chronicles #3)
Darkness Returns (The Lockman Chronicles #4)
Darkening Dawn (The Lockman Chronicles #5)
Visit Rob Cornell’s website at rob-cornell.com.
About the Author
Rob Cornell is the author of The Lockman Chronicles, a five-book urban fantasy series featuring ex-government agent and monster hunter, Craig Lockman. Raised on a steady diet of Star Wars, He-Man, G.I. Joe, and Transformers, he has always spent much of his time wandering the halls of his imagination, conjuring stories. Nowadays, he writes them down like a responsible adult. He lives in rural Southeast Michigan with his family.
Published by Paradox Publications
Copyright © 2015 by Rob Cornell
All rights reserved.
Cover Design © LFD Designs For Authors
Darkening Dawn is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
The Dusk
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
The Dark
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
The Dawn
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Books by Rob Cornell
About the Author
Copyright
