I Become Shadow (16 page)

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Authors: Joe Shine

BOOK: I Become Shadow
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I swear time was moving backward, or really slow on purpose. The ten o’clock chime even seemed to take longer than it should. Felt more like the nooner. But when
it finished a new wave of excitement rushed through me. Fifteen minutes to go!

I was looking for a silver Honda SUV. I never noticed how many damn silver cars there were in the world until now, not to mention how many of them were freakin’ Hondas. Was there a convention or something?! I was sure I spotted Gareth about a dozen times before I started to get frustrated and angry. With my background, angry was not something you wanted me to be.

And here comes another one … wait … license plate T9L-ZZR?

HOLY S***!!!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER 16
STRANGE NEW WORLD

I snaked my way through the heavy traffic, following the car. It slid into an impromptu unloading zone. After an interminable moment, he stepped out.

Time froze. Everything went silent and there was only Gareth. He was beautiful. Not literally. In fact, he was average looking at best. He looked shorter than he really was because he slouched. His brown hair sat in a curly mess on his head. His face was wide, his green eyes set far apart. No, he was beautiful to me because I was now complete. I had been uncomfortable since my link. No,
hollow
. Yeah, that’s a much better way to describe it and I had never really been able to pinpoint why. Now I knew. He made me whole. I never wanted to take my eyes off of him. His folks got out of the car with him. They seemed more excited and curious than their son.

I watched Gareth. Studied him. Tried to pick up on any mannerisms not covered in his bio. His clothes were just
clothes. They were nothing trendy, nothing name brand. It was as if they served the purpose of him not being naked and aside from that what was the point? He reminded me of Junie in that way. But that was where the comparison ended. Junie was a huge, intimidating guy and Gareth was the exact opposite. Gareth was wicked smart; Junie, not even close. They actually could have been cast in a modern remake of
Twins
, only Gareth was much better-looking and not as short as Danny DeVito. Sorry Danny, low blow I know.

Gareth looked uncomfortable, not sure what to make of the scene. His parents must have said something annoying to him because he snapped his head around and said, “Sure.”

I was within about twenty feet of him at that point. His voice was, like the rest of him, a big old stick of average. Not too high, not too low. But to me it was like a singing bird. I got goosebumps from it.

They grabbed boxes from the car and headed inside. With that came my first real choice. One of many I would make every day from now on. Should I stay put, or follow? At some point if they didn’t notice me lurking behind them someone else would. I’d scouted out the dorm. It had been secure enough. And with my added improvements I had no doubt he was as safe as he could be while in there. So I stayed where I was.

The moment he was out of my sight, however, I regretted my decision. That hollow feeling roared back to life inside me. I considered chasing after him and his parents but instead imagined them walking up the stairs and down the
hall. I reached the corner of the building and looked up at his window at the same time they entered his dorm room. Thankfully, none of them noticed a pasty, black-haired girl creepily staring up at them from the ground—because, well, let’s be honest, that’s what I was. A thought crossed my mind as I stood.
Isn’t this occupation more like glorified stalking than anything else?
Seemed like it to me. I guess Shadow sounded cooler. Yeah, saying I was part of the Stalker Program didn’t have that cool ring to it.

I watched them drop their first load and briefly take in the room before they came down for another. This process was repeated four more times. I finally followed them up on the last trip, passing the open door as I shut my own door behind me.

I watched and listened to them on my monitors. It was like reality TV, only right next door and a lot more important-feeling. His mom wanted to help him unpack, but he just wanted her to leave. She was embarrassing him. With no one in the room with them it was hard to understand how she was doing this, but you know how kids are.

Gareth’s roommate hadn’t moved in yet, so Gareth took the bed by the window, which bugged me. Snipers love it when you stand by a window. He told his folks he wanted that bed because of some crap about leaves and birds.
Huh?
Okay, the rational part of me wanted to wait a bit longer to pass judgment on the kid who made me whole, but I couldn’t. It was official. Gareth was a nerd. A mega one. There were hints, of course. His clothes. His grades. The fact that he and his roommate knew each other from, and I’m not making this up, computer camp. All of this
could have been brushed aside, ignored even. You know, he’s just one of those really smart, cool kids who gets good grades and doesn’t even try. But the “leaves” comment really sealed things. No huge parties for me. No late night concerts. No real college experience. On the other hand, this would make my job easier. He wouldn’t be hitting on any female that moved, driving drunk, or trying to show off to anyone. Even Lloyd, while also a nerd, had some charm and self-confidence. I doubt Gareth would sit at my table unless invited. No, nerds like Gareth shied from danger, at least the real kind. Video games and lab experiments do not a tough man make. I suddenly began to appreciate him a bit more for what he would be. A loner. Like me.

I followed him and his parents to some place that served giant (and I mean GIANT) burritos. I ate mine in the corner across from them pretending to read the paper but really watched them through the reflection in the window.

After the meal, the three of them took a stroll around campus before going back to the dorm to bid
adieu
and good luck. His mom cried. His dad started with a handshake, but crumbled and went in for the real deal bear hug. Then they climbed into their car and drove off. He watched them go and went upstairs to his room.

LIKE A GOOD LITTLE
dweeb he stayed inside and unpacked for the rest of the day. Even after his roommate, Lawrence by the way (I know,
Lawrence
), moved in they hung out and played video games. They even ordered pizza so they wouldn’t have to leave. This job was cake. I was also happy that my little FIP nerd didn’t have a car. It’s tough
to protect someone when they’re driving. Yeah, he had a bike, but nerds wore helmets and used hand signals.

I toggled the camera controller and zoomed in on his phone as he set his alarm for 8:30
A.M.
He, well I guess technically
we
, had an engineering class at 9:15
A.M.
I was in all of his classes so I’d have an actual reason to be around him all of the time without causing suspicion. It helped that he was an engineering major, too. Engineering majors had block schedules, which meant you took all of your classes with the same 200 people. It wouldn’t be easy to avoid direct contact, but it wouldn’t be too hard, either.

The lights in his room went off, and my cameras instantly switched to night vision. Even with all the security I still couldn’t go to sleep. Every glance away from the screens seemed to bring back the hollow feeling from before. I had to keep my eyes on him. We were told these feelings would be very intense at first but over time they would lessen and just become a part of who we were—like any true emotional attachment. But now that I was here I wasn’t sure I believed them.

At about 5
A.M.
I decided not even to pretend to try to sleep anymore. Instead I flipped on my real computer to see if my mother had sent her long-dead daughter anything new. Nope. But my heart jumped and I grinned. There was an email from Junie.

We had talked about our old email addresses years ago. I had forgotten his but instantly remembered it when I saw the message from
sexpistol_danceman
in my inbox. For a guy who numerous times forgot if the grenade he was about to throw had a three- or five-second fuse, remembering my
email was impressive. I blushed, thankful no one, especially Junie, was around to see it. Never would have heard the end of it from him.

Ren! What’s up, hooker?! I’m pretty sure this is your email, but if it’s not, my apologies, sir or madam, for calling you a hooker. I’m sure you’re a lovely person and not a prostitute. But assuming it is you, Ren, hey! Where are you? I’m in Austin, TX. My FIP’s four years old! Four! I live next door to her and tell everyone I’m a writer (I know, all it takes is speaking to me for ten seconds to know I’m no writer). It’s so no one thinks it’s strange I stay home all day in such a big house. Not working, though. I think all the neighborhood kids call me “that creepy dude.” I bet if I showed them my gas-powered machine gun they’d like me more. I’d also probably get arrested shortly thereafter, but I’d go out as “cool” which would be awesome. It’s so boring here. Nothing happens. All this training and I’m really a glorified babysitter. I don’t miss being there but I do miss you. Way too much. Let me know how you are. Oh, her name is Emily
.

–Junie
.

P.S. Remember when balconies were for views?

I blushed again at his mention of balconies. I missed him too and instantly hit reply. I didn’t know what to say though; I was never good at this stuff. I missed my friend but there was definitely something else there, too. I wanted to do more than just see and talk with him. That moment
on the balcony had flipped a switch, and I still wasn’t sure how to deal with what it had turned on. Yeah, yeah, insert dirty joke here.

I was about to write, but I paused. While contact between Shadows had never been forbidden—many FIPs might one day meet and even work together on some Future Important Event—was this okay? Revealing who we are to the outside world meant certain death at the hands of a Hunter. But it was assumed a Shadow could encounter another Shadow out there. Would I get a phone call about this later warning me not to do it ever again?
Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?

BUZZ!
Movement in Gareth’s room
. I cursed myself for being distracted.

My right hand instinctively reached for a gun I had hidden under the desk. Gareth was groggily stumbling toward the door. Was he leaving? Crap! I wasn’t ready. Not even dressed. I turned and grabbed a pair of jeans to throw on over my pjs and bolted out of the door, but paused as the telltale sound of a guy peeing came through my speakers. Disgusting. Half asleep Gareth dropped back into bed. I dropped my jeans, slumped back into my chair, and went back to my email to Junie.

Here I was unable to take my eyes off one guy and longing to see the other. On the other hand, Junie had reached out. I wanted to respond. I needed to respond.

So this is what I wrote him:

Junie. My dearest love. Every fiber of my being aches for your touch …

Seriously, folks? Like I would, ever. For real this time:

Junie! It is me! Which you probably have figured out by now since I’ve responded. I wish I was a hooker, more freedom, better tips! I miss you too. Sorry to hear about your FIP. But at least you get a yard. I’m stuck in a dorm room next to a mega-nerd. Did I say I miss you too? I’m in College Station, TX. I think that’s close, no? Maybe one day my FIP will go to Austin. I would have no hesitation knocking him out and tying him up for a few hours so that we could hang out. Just kidding. Kinda … not really
.

ByEEEE!

I pressed send before I could reconsider.
Ugh
. Being a girl is exhausting.

With Gareth sleeping soundly, and me unable to sleep, I worked out in my room for an hour. I kept it silent for the folks below me. Six
A.M.
is too late for parties and too early to be up. I spent another hour double-checking all of my weapons’ hiding places. The guns were all still loaded, the knives were still sharp, and they were all still very well hidden.

I took a shower (I had installed a waterproof monitor in there, too, to keep an eye on Gareth) and got ready to leave. It was already 82 degrees outside and humid as hell. I began to sweat just thinking about it. I opted to wear the least amount of clothing as possible and thus put on a worn, light shirt and my first pair of non-gym shorts since my abduction. They were cut-off jean shorts, and they felt strange. I looked like some kind of retro-hippie-surfer girl.
Was this even in? Had it ever been? I didn’t care about fashion any more, I really didn’t, but I also didn’t want to look so ridiculous that people stared. Then again, the people who had supplied my wardrobe would not have bought me anything that would stick out.

Gareth’s alarm went off at 7:30
A.M.
Good morning, Nerdville! I strapped on a pair of sneaks and sat on my bed, fiddling with a butterfly knife until he was ready to leave. I waited for him to be about halfway down the hall before grabbing my backpack and following him. The bag had a false bottom where I’d hidden a pistol. The gun lightly bounced against the small of my back. Though I preferred knives, it was oddly comforting to me. Sometimes guns are all you need.

CHAPTER 17
POISON CONTROL

The engineering class was held in one of those classic giant auditoriums you see in teen movies. The last time I had been in a room this size I’d been learning how to build explosives using basic household items. I assumed this would be a tad different, but if not, I’d get an easy A.

Gareth took a seat up front. I could tell he had wanted to front-row-Joe it, but they were all taken. He was forced to sit in the third row with all the other got-here-too-late-for-suck-up-seats geeks. With the only exits in the back of the class, I was happily a back-row-Betty, sandwiched between two kids who looked too sleepy for a first period class this early.

There was a closed laptop on the table in front of each of us. No one had opened theirs. Wanting and needing to be a lemming, I waited.

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