Copula Chronicles: The Complete Collection: Origin, Descend, Ascend, Legacy

by Venessa Kimball

  “Shit! What the hell happened Jesca?”

  His eyes are a big as saucers as he takes me in. I look down at myself and notice that I’m crouched with my feet on the seat, still gripping his shirt and the fabric on the roof of the car. I try to move my legs from the seat, but it’s not possible. Fuck!

  “Jes!”

  Ezra’s yell brings my focus back to him. “I can’t move my legs.”

  Ezra looks confused, then completely frustrated. “Shit.”

  I immediately think he’s pissed at me for totally flaking on everything he taught me with Astral Projection and using my life force. “It’s not like I was expecting to have a fucking nightmare the moment we left Ezra!”

  He looks in his rear-view mirror then ahead of us. “I’m not pissed at you!”

  He glances at me and looks me up and down. “That’s not completely true. You know not to burn through your energy like that! Shit! Never mind that.”

  He leans over, holds my shoulder as he pulls one foot at a time from under me to sit me in the seat. This is so embarrassing, like I’m a fucking child.

  Once I’m set in place, my seatbelt untangled, he puts the car into gear and guns it. “Someone is tracking you. Us.”

  His correction to include himself brings comfort, even though being tracked is the worst thing that could happen now with us just leaving the facility. “How’d they track us so quickly?”

  “Who was it?”

  Ezra’s question confuses me.

  “Who was who?”

  “The tracker. He or she had to have been in your nightmare.”

  I think back on the hooded guy, the monstrous face and the inhuman eyes. “I don’t know.”

  Ezra hits the steering wheel, setting the horn off, then looks at me. “I know it doesn’t count for much, but my demons are attacking too.”

  He looks ahead through the windshield, and then hits the steering wheel again. “Goddamn it!”

  As I sit there and consider what demons are attacking Ezra, the feeling in my legs begins to return. I shift my feet on the floorboard and notice Ezra glance over at them. I’m about to ask him about his demons when he speaks up. “I don’t need you dying on me the first day out. We need to keep you ‘jumping’ until we get to the safe house or at least the state line.”

  Safe house?

  He glances at me in complete seriousness. “The way we practiced in the facility. You’ve got a moving target to keep up with, so don’t go all crazy and ‘jump’ to Africa or Malaysia. The more you ‘jump’, and the more you block your thoughts, the safer you’ll be for now. Got it!”

  The next two days of driving are filled with me honing my ability to Astral Project while keeping my block up. Ezra called it on-site training. Talk about bizarre road-trip games; this one topped them all.

  CHAPTER 17: HOME SWEET HOME

  Jesca

  We arrive in Miami around seven in the evening. The sun is casting shadows on the palm tree lined sidewalk. Brightly colored Hibiscus and Bougainvilleas pepper the streets. Ezra’s cautionary mood changed immediately upon crossing the Florida state line. I asked him why and he said that our sleeper cells were ready and watching. Even though I had no idea what it entailed to be watched by them, his ease made me at ease.

  “We’re staying near Coral Gables at Coconut Grove,” Ezra said as he scrolls through his iPhone. “This car won’t suit us any longer. We’re set to stop at a dealership and swap cars. My connection there has everything ready for us.”

  “Us. Wait. I’m getting a car?”

  Ezra nods. “Miami isn’t like Marietta. You’re not in Georgia anymore.”

  His comment strikes a chord of anxiety. No, I’m not in Marietta anymore. I don’t recognize this world I’m in at all anymore.

  We pull up to a BMW dealership and I give Ezra a sideways glance. “A BMW?”

  Ezra gives me an eat shit stare, “Yeah, a superior automobile love.”

  He gets out of the car and I follow.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m in my fully equipped 5-series BMW following Ezra in his 7-series heading to the villa, also known as the safe house. Suddenly, my phone rings through the speakers of the car. Holy shit!

  I notice the screen on the dash light up with the words ‘The Eagle’ scrolling across it.

  The Eagle? Who the hell is ‘The Eagle’?

  Suddenly, the ringing stops. Not even a second later, it starts up again. My eyes bounce between driving and looking at the screen. The words ‘The Eagle’ flash across again.

  “The Eagle! Who the hell is the Eagle?”

  All of a sudden, I look up and notice Ezra sticking his hand out the window with a phone in his hand. Figures. Ezra, the fucking Eagle. I press the phone icon on the screen and I’m greeted with, “It’s about time!”

  “You could’ve told me about giving yourself a nickname!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Check under your seat.”

  I reach under and feel a small object. I pick it up. An iPhone. Ezra says, “I have taken the liberty of programming in some numbers for you. Jim, from the dealership, programmed everything in your car.”

  “Okay Eagle,” I say as I scroll through the contacts. Sera, Roan (Delilah). Sera, Bethany. He had their numbers. I feel my throat constrict seeing their names. I haven’t talked to them in four weeks, the longest I have ever gone.

  “You should give them a call. Let them know that you’re safe.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  It was true. What do you say to your parents after you’ve been away at Super Power Camp for the past four weeks. There’s a long pause as I wait for Ezra’s advice.

  “They’re your family Jes. You’ll know. If you’re worried that it might put them in danger, don’t. Sebastian has sleepers in place around them. We’ll be to the house in fifteen minutes.”

  “Wait!”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s my nickname?”

  “What?”

  “You know, your ‘The Eagle’, well, what am I?”

  “The sparrow. Call your parents.”

  Ezra ends the call and I let the nickname roll of my tongue as I smile. “The sparrow. I like that.”

  I tried my sister, but it went to voicemail. Mom and dad picked up. They said they’re settled in Boulder. Bethany was there visiting for a few days; that’s why she didn’t pick up. Mom asked where we were staying, where my territory was and all the details I wasn’t sure I should share. Dad reassured her that the fellowship had everything taken care of when it came to my and Ezra’s safety. Hearing Dad say this was just as reassuring to me as I assume it was for mom.

  “Can we visit you soon? Can you come see mom and dad?”

  Bethany’s questions were innocent. She didn’t know about the fellowship yet. Mom and dad told her I was taking some time off and traveling, so I kept the details light telling her that we could always text. After talking with each of them and saying goodbye, I missed them even more than I had before I called. Well, shit on a stick. So much for all the good feelings, I was hoping for.

  We pull up to the gate at The Cloisters in Coconut Grove. Ezra reaches out of his window and punches in a code, and then I follow him through the open gate. The cobblestone road is lined with a canopy of saluting palm trees with smaller azalea bushes peppered along the path.

  We pull up to a white stucco villa with dark brown tile roofing. The drive is trimmed with small lantern landscape lights. As I take in the landscape and the house, Ezra’s out of the car, unloading our bags and heading to the front door.

  I get out of my car and walk up the drive to the front porch. The sound of rolling waves catches my attention. “How close are we to the water?”

  Ezra unlocks the door. “Oh, we live very close to the ocean.”

  I follow him into the house and check ou
t furnishings in the living room. They remind me of the hearth room in the facility. I hear Ezra fumbling around in the kitchen, looking for light switches.

  “Hungry?”

  I turn to see him rummaging in the refrigerator. “Yes. Starving!”

  I tour the rest of the house, taking in the surroundings, as Ezra lists off the food he’s discovered in the fridge. As I come back into the living room, the gargantuan television is beaming at me. I look over at him working on a sandwich. “Was this your idea?”

  He grins as he takes out slices of lunchmeat. “I’d like to say yes, but no. It’s Byron Haynes.”

  “Byron Haynes?”

  Ezra looks back up at me. “The owner of the house. He’s currently out of the country In Japan. He’s a biologist working closely with the fellowship.”

  “A guardian?”

  Ezra cuts into the sandwich. “Yeah.”

  I spot the back door and open it. A moist breeze immediately touches my face and blows my hair back. The moon’s reflection ripples in the ocean a mere fifty yards from the back porch. I walk back into the house and head straight for the kitchen. Ezra slides me the creation he’s been working on; the most mouth-watering ham and cheese sandwich my growling stomach could ask for. “Eat up. We need to get to bed. You and I both have an interview in the morning.”

  I sit down at the bar stool in front of him as he makes a sandwich for himself. “An interview for what?”

  He spreads the mustard on both slices of bread. “An interview at a bookstore near the University of Miami.”

  With my mouth full of ham and cheese and bread, I ask, “Why?”

  He cuts his sandwich in half as he looks up at me. “Adapting Jes. Remember?”

  I nod remembering the conversation back in the facility about blending in and getting my bearings in the territory. I shrug. “Okay. Bookstores I can handle. Piece of cake.”

  After inhaling not just one, but two ham and cheese sandwiches, I can’t hide the yawn that creeps up on me. Ezra quickly takes note. “You should hit the sack. I have some research to do, but I won’t be far behind you. Remember I’m the brains, you’re the brawn.”

  I rise from the stool and give him a thumbs up as he walks toward the kitchen table. I finish the last bite of my sandwich, clear my plate, and follow him to the table. “Anything I can help with?”

  He glances over at me as he sorts files. “No.”

  “Okay.”

  He opens a file and looks it over as he explains. “I have this side project I’m working on. It has to do with the Bermuda Triangle and this cell of Dobrian physicists. Well, Dobrians with a few undercover Sondians. Haven’t found the moles yet.”

  “Does this have to do with the Bermuda Triangle, Dragon’s Triangle wormhole thing we talked about in the facility?”

  He nods, then stares at me over his glasses. “You better get to bed Jes. Long day tomorrow.”

  “Night.”

  I take the hint and walk down the hall to my room.

  The first night in the house isn’t so bad. No lucid dreaming. I might’ve kept it at bay since I’m so anxious and unable to fully relax during sleep. At some point in the middle of the night, I feel a presence. Can’t tell if it’s in my dream or in my actual room looking over me. I’m so exhausted by that point; I don’t spend much time analyzing it. Plus, it doesn’t feel threatening. It feels warm, comforting and familiar.

  Ezra and I are out the door at the same time in the morning. No nightmares equaled a much-needed good night’s sleep. The only thing that kept me longer than I wanted was my thoughts about the other guardians. Well, mainly Nate. I swear I could feel the energy source we’d shared in the facility here with me in this strange house. It isn’t possible though. Nate and I are on opposite coasts for god’s sake—thousands of miles apart.

  As Ezra gets in his car, he says for me to call him if I need him. I wave as I get into my car. Ezra did a last minute coaching on Ushering for me to use on the person hiring me at the bookstore. Coercing the bookstore owner to hire me will be a no brainer since I have experience in book sales retail. I told him I wouldn’t need to Usher very much. He laughed at me.

  The store is a few blocks away from the beach. It’s on a busy street, lots of foot traffic, close to the university. It’s a great location and perfect for immersing myself in the area. Plus, it’s not likely a Sondian will stroll into this crowded area to attack.

  I feel a bit nostalgic for Benson’s Bookstore when I walk through the door, and hear a cowbell ringing at me in the old-fashioned way. A petite older woman with long, salt-and-pepper hair peeks out from behind a stack near the middle of the store. Quickly, she walks toward me, looking me up and down as she comes close, a little too close. I back away a step to bring some space between us even though I’m a good four inches taller than her. Unfazed by her being in my personal space, she directs me with her light-honey colored eyes.

  “Hi. I’m—”

  “Jesca Sera.”

  She starts to circle around me. “I know who you are. You’re here for the job.”

  For her being old, her voice isn’t weak in the slightest. I try the Ushering, sensing this interview may not be as easy as I originally thought. “You’ll hire me. You’ll hire me,” as I reply. “Yes, I am, ma’am.”

  She comes around the front of me, moving in close again, the top of her head just below my chin as she looks up at me. “My name is Olivia Walker.”

  I have heard that name before. Wait, Luke Walker? Nate’s mentor?

  I hear her in my head all of a sudden. “Yes, that’s right. My son is Luke. My apologies for intruding in your head, but it’s best if we don’t discuss specifics of our relationship in the open. Oh, and nice try with the Ushering. You’ll get better with time.”

  Olivia’s sullen face, suddenly brightens as she lifts my hand in hers. A familiar current of energy passes between us. Not as strong as Nate’s and mine. Subtle, but definitely a coursing force. She places her other hand atop of mine, then give my hand a light squeeze. Olivia closes her eyes and I watch as they flutter behind her thin, wrinkled eyelids. What does she see behind them. Her smile widens as her eyes open. “So, you’re a believer.”

  I don’t understand. “Believer?”

  She searches my eyes as she says, “I can only do that with those that have a faith in the big guy above.”

  She pats the top of my hand gently. “You’re hired.”

  Miss Olivia, as she prefers to be called, spends the day showing me around the shop. The “back room” she tells me about is large enough to be a small apartment, expanding into its own kitchen and an upstairs loft. I soon discover that Miss Olivia has lived in the “back room” of the store all of her life. The entire building was her child hood home. Her parents added on to the house for years after buying the storefront portion. It used to be a convenient store back in the day when she was little. She said the store became a restaurant in her teen years. She waited tables in what’s now the Historical Fiction section of the store. She even met her husband at the restaurant, waiting his table. When her parents passed, Miss Olivia inherited the house and restaurant. Over the years, her husband helped her convert the restaurant into something she was passionate about. That’s when the bookstore was born. The name of the store isn’t fancy. The sign literally says “The Book Store.”

  After the first day, I glance back at the store before getting into my car. It stood out from the rest of the upscale shops lining the strip. Miss Olivia’s place was eclectic, aged, a vintage heirloom boutique that I absolutely loved. I couldn’t wait to get started. I’m a bit deflated when the first few days training with Miss Olivia aren’t bookstore work related at all. She gives me homework.

  “So this is all making sense now. Ezra and you had this planned all along.”

  Miss Olivia smiles, turns, and greets a new customer. Most of my
days at the store are spent in the back room studying, reading, learning and applying the contents of the books, she’s stacked in front of me at her kitchen table in the “back room.” Physics, Deepak Chopra, Cosmology, Metaphysical Awareness. There’s more stacked behind me on the floor. Those are the ones she wants me to start with.

  Some days, I watch Miss Olivia with her customers. Not book-seeking customers. Soul-healing customers. Everyday people that on the outside look collected and at peace, coming to her to find solace, joy or peace. You wouldn’t think that they’d step foot into a bookstore and entrust a woman to reveal the heavy burdens of their lives. Pain, poverty, abuse, guilt, addiction, hatred, betrayal, tragedy; it ran the gamut with who walked through the door for soul healing. Day by day, I watch her use her life force to heal these people from the inside out. They’re so grateful after a session with her, crying tears of joy as they crumble into her open arms. During each encounter, I hear her prayers to God in her head. Giving thanks for the divine gift, he’s given to her for these people, these souls. After a customer leaves, she comes to sit across from me at the table with a glass of ice tea. Each session is a drain, and by this time of the day, she looks worn out. “How do you keep up your strength? Your energy depletes every time you heal.”

  She places her glass down on the table after a long drink. “Praying to God cleanses and prepares me for the healing and my faithful meditation with Him rejuvenates my life force.”

  She’s old enough to be my grandmother, yet her stamina is unwavering. It’s humbling to watch her use her gift.

  It’s a slow afternoon and I’m in the “back room” reading “The Cosmos” by Carl Sagan.

  Miss Olivia clears her throat to get my attention at the doorway to the bookstore. “Jesca. I’m going to visit a friend. Would you watch the store for about an hour?”

  “Sure.”

  I close my book and start to rise as she asks me, “Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

  I smile at her cautionary concern. “Yes, I know my way around the book store. Help them find what they need. Ring them up.”