Earth (18 page)

I smiled at him, understanding he had to try,
but I was slowly and steadily slipping away from him. It was
inevitable. My hand slipped out of his, sliding through the
desperate grip he had on my wrist. It may have been the spray of
the ocean, but as I finally fell away from him I could have sworn I
saw tears streak his face.

I landed on a bed of fallen leaves and broken
twigs. All the air left in my lungs rushed out of me with the
impact. Stars burst in front of my eyes; I blinked the temporary
blindness away before I tried to get my bearings. It was full dark
now and the foliage of the forest was close enough together to
block any wind that may have been blowing outside the forest. I
could hear something moving in the forest, crunching through the
fallen leaves slowly, as if it was trying to be quiet but knowing
that was impossible.

As my sight cleared, I knew exactly where I
was and the sudden, bone-chilling fear stole over me. This was the
first time I knew for certain it was only a dream while in it, but
whatever it was that was stalking me just out of sight had managed
to hurt me every time. I had to move. I also knew that any movement
would alert it to where I was and bring it down on me. My internal
struggle nearly split me in two. I mentally screamed at myself to
wake up, just get out of this unscathed, just freaking wake up! A
twig broke a few feet away from me. It was die trying or die doing
nothing. Couldn’t there be a third option?

I pushed off the ground in the same moment as
I rolled over, running all out away from my pursuer. My dress was
gone, unsurprisingly, and I was dressed in jeans, shoes, and a
sweater that was already starting to snag on the branches and
bushes as I tore through the forest. My legs burned with the effort
of running on the unstable ground as the leaves and gravel slid
underfoot. I could see light flickering just ahead, in a clearing
just past the trees. I knew that’s where I wanted to be; I felt the
energy reaching out to me, lending itself to me, urging me on.
Claws raked my left ankle, tearing through my jeans and carving
into the flesh beneath. I screamed out in pain and surprise,
reaching out with my hands as if they reached the clearing my whole
body would be safe.

I started to fall, just like every other
time, feeling my feet slip beneath me and another raking claw
ripped down my right leg, pulling me down in the momentum. I
screamed again, scrambling frantically to keep moving forward.
Jensen reached out for me, grasping both my hands and pulled me
forcibly forward, out of reach of my attacker. He held onto me and
continued to pull; we ran together, my breathing tearing apart my
lungs and tears stinging my eyes.

We broke through the tree line into a round
clearing. In a brief moment, I saw the source of warmth and light
as the fire in the center of the clearing. I looked to Jensen and
his face was contorted with anger and shock, his hand gripping mine
almost painfully. His eyes were murky and glassed over. I turned to
see what had upset him, all thoughts of my attacker already
forgotten. The looming, black clad figure from my scrying bowl
stood before me, shaking with the patent laugh of the evil villain
from any B-movie. His arms were folded over his chest, his hands
hidden in the billowing sleeves of his cloak. He composed himself
and spread his arms wide. Gripped in his left hand I saw the
gleaming silver blade of a long sinister knife.

I watched, horror stricken that I had run
straight into this trap, that Jensen had brought me here. I tried
to pull my hand free of his, but he held on tighter, nearly
crushing the bones. I started to scream when I saw the fire light
glint off the blade. He had raised it above his head and in one
fluid motion brought it down too fast for me to follow, aiming for
my heart.

I woke up in my customary pool of sweat and
tangled mess of sheets. My hair was a rat’s nest, as if I really
had fallen from a windy cliff. My ankles stung with the wounds I
knew were there. My breathing was ragged and my lungs burned, but I
was grateful to have woken in time, terrified that the killing blow
would be gushing blood on my bed had I taken even a second longer
to wake.

I raised a shaky hand to my forehead, pushing
away matted hair. I reached slowly and turned on my bedside light,
illuminating the room better than the T.V. had. In the soft light,
I saw the bruises on my wrist blooming in greens, purples, and
blues where Jensen had tried to save me from my fall and held me
captive. Jensen now seemed more of a mystery to me than ever. He
had tried to save me, but then brought me to the Satan worshipers
and wouldn’t let me leave.

“So Mr. Jensen…” I whispered to myself, “What
exactly does this mean? Are you protecting me? Or are you trying to
fool me?”

Chapter 10

I went to bed to salvage the last few hours
of sleep I could get, but before I fell asleep I sent text messages
to Jodi and Steven to let them know I wasn’t going to school in the
morning. I decided I had been beaten up enough to warrant a day
off. Luckily, because I had my own car, I wouldn’t have to worry
about my parents in the morning. I would only have to tell them I
didn’t want to go in if I wanted to sleep in. I planned on taking
the sketches of the symbols we saw in the scrying bowl to Deb and
see if she couldn’t puzzle anything out of them.

I went through all the normal motions of
getting ready for school before I left so my mom wouldn’t ask any
questions and left the house at a quarter ‘til eight.
Unfortunately, the store wouldn’t be open until ten so I had about
two hours to kill. Ordinarily I would’ve gone to the bookstore, but
it wouldn’t open until nine. I thought about waiting in the parking
lot and getting another hour’s worth of sleep, but I didn’t want to
be that creepy person sleeping in their car, so I went to a coffee
shop in the same shopping center as the store. I indulged myself
and got a chocolate flavored coffee and a pastry. Hey, a girl’s
gotta eat. I took a table way in the back in a corner so I could
look through my journal in privacy.

I took the first hour detailing my two very
vivid dreams from last night. I wanted to make sure I recorded each
of those nightmares because each time they were just a little
different and last night’s was the worst yet. The scratch marks on
my ankles had actually bled, I just hadn’t noticed until I got into
the shower this morning and nearly screamed when the water hit the
untended injuries. In the last hour I spent the time studying the
symbols that had been on the altar. I was bothered by the fact that
none of them were familiar to me. I turned the book around and
examined them from all angles, but nothing came to mind.

Three cups of coffee and two pastries later
and it was just a few minutes before ten. I settled up my bill and
went to stand outside the front doors so I could be there as soon
as Deb arrived. I knew Deb would be opening because she hated to
close and it was one or the other as far as the owner was
concerned. Finally, just a few seconds before ten I saw Deb’s very
mundane four door sedan roll into her customary parking space. She
saw me through the windshield and looked at me with a very worried,
suspicious look on her face.

I met her at the trunk of her car to help her
carry in some boxes she’d brought with her. “Mornin’ Deb,” I
greeted her, trying to sound calm and normal.

“Morning, sweetie, thanks.” She sighed
gratefully when I started taking things from her to carry. “What
are you doing here? School’s not out today.” She didn’t say that
last like a question; she knew better. I followed her to the front
door and waited while she unlocked it and let me in. The heater was
programmed to turn on about a half hour before the store opened, so
it was blessedly warm inside. I shivered a little before following
her to the back room.

“I’ve been having some issues and I needed to
talk to you about them.” I handed her the boxes as she reached for
them to store in the back.

“Where are the other two?” She asked, that
same suspicious look crossing her face.

“At school probably. They don’t know I’m
here.” I was keeping my voice even so she wouldn’t think I was up
to anything.

“Something’s wrong.” Another statement
instead of a question. I decided to be totally honest and nodded in
agreement. “Ok, well, let’s chat.” We walked back out to the front
so Deb could man the front counter in case any Tuesday morning
shoppers came in. I pulled out my journal and set it on the
counter, opening it to the page where I had sketched the evil
pentagram. I looked up at Deb and saw a shadow cross her face.
“What are you doing with something like that in your grimoire?” Her
voice was just over a whisper.

“It was in a dream I had.” Ok, maybe not
totally honest. “I have been having these dreams where I’m in the
woods and something is chasing me, like an animal but it’s too… I
dunno… determined to be just an animal and occasionally it almost
catches me and I wake up with stuff like this.” I knelt down and
pulled up one of my pant legs to show her my ankle. Deb leaned over
the counter to get a better look and hissed at the sight of it. “I
know! And then one night I saw black robed figures killing chickens
over an altar that had this on it. And then last night…” I trailed
off, realizing just then that I was on the verge of tears. I had
been speaking very fast, almost slurring my words together.

“And then last night…” Deb prompted softly,
taking one of my trembling hands in hers. Healing warmth started
seeping into me.

“Well, when I’m running it’s like I’m trying
to get to safety, like I know just a little farther and I’ll get to
a place where it can’t get me.” Deb nodded encouragingly. My voice
had finally broken and I took the moment I needed to catch my
breath and gather the strength I needed to continue.

“And last night I broke through the trees in
to this clearing and the guy that I saw kill the chickens was
standing there with a knife, it looked like an athame, and he tried
to kill me but I woke up before he could.” I finished in one dying
breath.

“You’re leaving something out.” She narrowed
her eyes at me, daring me to lie to her. I knew I couldn’t.

“Well, occasionally there’s this boy in the
dream and he’s trying to help me get away from whatever’s chasing
me. He was in my dream again last night.”

“And?” Deb pressed.

“Well, he helped get me to the clearing. He
looked angry at the sight of the guy, but when I tried to run he
wouldn’t let me go.”

It was one of those moments that froze and
stretched on forever in silence that was so thick you wanted to
scream just to make noise. Just as I was about to snap under the
pressure to be quiet, Deb came back to herself with a sigh.

She looked suspicious again. I knew she
wanted to ask who the boy was but, for some reason, she knew I
wouldn’t tell her, so she just didn’t ask. “Do you trust this boy
in your dreams?”

I thought about that for a moment. Jodi and
Steven didn’t seem to. Was I being naïve or maybe just overly
cynical? “Yes, I think I do,” I finally answered. I felt like a
weight had been lifted from my chest.

“Good, then let’s talk about this rubbish.”
She tapped the still open journal on the counter top. “You saw this
in a dream?”

“Yes.” Stick to your lie; always stick to
your lie.

“Fine. Well, it looks like runes,” Deb said,
concentrating on the designs.

“What? Runes? But those aren’t evil. Hell,
they don’t
do
anything but help people like tarot cards do,”
I sounded exasperated.

“No, Shay, that’s not true,” Deb’s voice was
distant. She was studying one symbol very carefully, the one that
looked like a wheel with eight spokes to me.

“Are these satanic runes or something?” I
asked.

“No, but that doesn’t mean someone isn’t
trying to use them for that purpose.” I looked at her, confused.
“Yes, you can use runes to cast to see the future, but they are
very magical things. This one for example,” she pointed to the
wheel, “this is called Aegishjalmur,” she paused at seeing my
confused face. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to know how to
pronounce it, just know what it’s for. It is used for protection in
battle. And this one,” she pointed to one that looked like an
hourglass lying on its side, “is for binding a prisoner.” Her face
was grim. “This shouldn’t be in this book.” She flipped the page to
see if there was anything on the back of it (it was blank) and,
without preamble, she tore the page out.

“It’s that bad?” I asked.

“Yes. Listen, honey, if you’re dreaming about
this and you’re waking up injured, then you shouldn’t take this
lightly,” Deb sounded a little desperate.

“I’m not, that’s why I’m here. I’m just
confused. Runes aren’t part of the black arts, why would they use
it?”

“Oh, honey, these people have been taking
good things and perverting them for their own needs for centuries.
The inverted cross and pentagrams, you know that.” She put the torn
page in her purse and turned to me. “Listen, I want you to be very
careful with these dreams, don’t concentrate on them so much,
you’re only lending them power over you.”

“Deb, you do think it’s really happening when
I’m dreaming? I mean, I always wake up in my bed.”

“And always hurt!” She was definitely
desperate now. “Shay, I don’t know if who you’re dreaming about are
the same men in Ojai or if it’s just some horrible coincidence, but
we can’t take this lightly. I’m going to be casting some protective
shields on you and your house. You work on the ones you already
have in place.”

“Ok, sure…” I had come for reassurance and
now I was more scared than I had been last night. “Deb, do you
think these are prophetic? I mean, do you think those symbols are
for me?”