Plagued: Book 1 (3 page)

The easy-going expression shifted to something else. Something harder.

“What I mean is,” she stumbled to a stop. What did she mean? She tried to think. She should tell him they were taught to shoot automatically at targets and dummies. Shoot accurately without question. Follow your C.O.'s orders. Not what she really thought. The shrinks would be on her in a minute if she said she coped by pretending it was a game. A role-playing game like she created in the park with her friends as a child. She'd had weapons and combat training since her twelfth birthday. Back then it was easy just to make it a game of soldiers and spies in her head, and she hadn't stopped.

Training was mandatory for all Negatives, plus she'd tested well for aggression. Even trainees needed to be prepared to be called for duty at any time. Luckily there hadn't been a full-scale riot on the West Coast since she came of age. Shooting Hemogoblin blood gangsters was one thing. Firing into a crowd of desperate civilians, she wasn't sure she could do that, no matter what the aggression tests said. 

Anyway,
he
was a civilian. How could he understand the pressures she faced daily? What the government and her blood type gave her no choice to do. Protect and Serve. That was her duty from now until forever.

He was waiting for her to say more.

“Hemogoblins hunt people for their blood,” she explained. “Drain them dry or sell off their captives to illegal blood farms. They leave corpses from rival gangs to taunt us. The bodies are strapped to the trees or telephone poles or wherever. They call them scarecrows. It's horrible. Evil.” She met his eyes, “So, no, killing them on HK patrol is not weird. That's justice and I don't lose any sleep over them.” 

“Have you killed any one else? By mistake?”

She looked at him, surprised. “That's a weird question.”

“Hugo!”

They both started. Neither of them had noticed the man's approach. He laid one hand on the boy's shoulder. “Sorry, I kept you waiting. Let's go.”

The man had a beautiful, clipped way of speaking. Just like Hugo. He was tall, and his curly gray hair hung over his ears and forehead. Definitely good looking; with classical features: high cheekbones, broad forehead, and cloudy gray-blue eyes. Hugo looked a lot like him, except for the hair.

“That's okay, Dad.” He stood and turned towards his father. “This is a classmate from Redwood High. She was injured tonight chasing a gang of Hemogoblins. Right near here, in the eucalyptus forest.”

The man didn't even glance at her. “You're doing a good job soldier. We appreciate it.” With that, he walked to the sliding glass doors leading to the parking lot.

Hugo smiled. “Nice talking to you at last, Sky. I must be awfully preoccupied not to have noticed you before.”

She felt her cheeks flush again. Was he
flirting
with her? What the hell?

“See you at school.” Hugo took a few steps backward, his eyes flicking from her face to someplace at her feet. “Oh, and I like your dog. He's beautiful. Were you able to get him in because you're Tactical? They usually don't let pets in the hospital. What's his name?”

“A..Alex,” she stammered.

“Hugo!” his father called sharply.

She stared at him, her mouth open.

Stared while he jogged over to his father and left.

Stared at the sliding doors until Staff Sergeant McNeil came out and barked her name.

Hugo couldn't have seen her dog.

Nobody could except her.

That's because her dog was dead, a ghost. And only Sky could see him.

Chapter 3

Blood Ties

The motor pool driver let her out in front of the little two-story house on Waverly Road. Aunt Eloise's house. This is where she lived when her mom was away. She was tired, her head ached despite the pain killers from the hospital. There was reading to do for History and English, but all she could think about was Hugo. What he said at the end of their conversation. About seeing her dog.

Alex, her little Shetland Sheepdog, had been dead over a year.

The flu
did
change Rednecks, just as she had told him. Sometimes those changes couldn't be explained by science. Sky's enhanced sense of sight went far beyond just invisible light spectrums. She saw ghosts. Only animals so far. Alex had been with her since the day he died. Not every moment of every day. Often, though. Especially when she was tired or stressed.

The funny thing was, her aunt saw ghosts, too.

The little electric sign on the carport roof for 'Eloise Edwards, Psychic Consultant,' clicked off as Sky dragged herself up the front walk. Her aunt must have been working late as well. Peering through the metaphysical fog and paranormal ether for her clients. Her aunt Eloise was a psychic. For animals, not humans. And the psychic pet business was booming.

People had become very attached to their pets since the plagues. Obsessively so. Dogs and cats were immune to the flu. Unlike parents, children, friends, and family, they did not die off every winter. People became more and more dependent on animals for emotional comfort as the world fell to pieces. Eloise helped clients get in touch with pets that had passed on. She'd been doing it before the plagues. Since the die-off, business had increased exponentially.

Sky let herself in through the front door. Unlike many homes, they didn't need a curtained alcove to strip out of street clothes – full of possible virus germs – mist themselves down and change into home clothes. Eloise had a unit like that for the annex holding her office. That was mandatory, a city ordinance for all places of business.

“Hi, sweetie!” Eloise came out from the little hall that led to the other side of the house. An addition she'd had built on for her work. Tricia, her apricot poodle, bounded ahead, dancing around Skylar on her hind feet, begging to be petted. Eloise was wearing a knee-length beige tunic sweater over black leggings and little black loafers. This was her preferred style of dress when exploring the psychic realm with clients.

Her aunt stopped halfway to the door, giving Sky a searching glance. “What happened? You're hurt. I can tell. Come here,” she stretched out her arms.

Dropping the heavy black duffle bag on the carpet, Skylar walked over. As a member of the Guard, she was required to keep her weapons at home or school when not on patrol. Every Redneck did the same from sixteen on. Wrapping her arms around her aunt, she let herself relax for the first time all day.

Aunt Eloise was not a large woman, but she gave big, satisfying hugs.

She pulled Sky into the living room with Tricia dancing around them. It was an old house updated just before the plagues when Eloise and her husband moved in with their two small boys. Two floors, four bedrooms. The living and dining rooms flowed together in an open plan and a wide counter with seating on one side bordered the roomy eat-in kitchen. Through the kitchen, a laundry room at the back opened onto a side patio and access to the carport. When Eloise added the little office annex for her psychic business, they built a sliding door into the dining room that blended right into the wall when it was closed.

It was a very lived-in, comfortable house with oversized sofa and side chairs and big, worn Persian carpets over the hardwood floors. Classic, hand-colored bird and flower etchings decorated the walls.  Tonight there was a fire in the fireplace. Though the days were warm, evenings got chilly in October. Eloise pushed her down on the deep couch and headed for the kitchen. Tricia was overjoyed to finally reach Sky's cheeks for some serious doggy kissing.

“I've got a yummy beef stew, lots of veggies,” she said over her shoulder. “Big, soft rolls for dipping. I waited for you.”

“Aunt Eloise, you didn't have to do that! Look at the time.”

She peeked around the corner and blew her a kiss. “Meals are better shared. Do you want to change into your old moldies or eat in your uniform?”

“Gosh, yes! Old moldies for me.”She jumped off the couch. “Back in a flash.”

'Old moldies' was a code phrase of Eloise and Sky's mom for their most comfortable at-home clothing. For Sky, that meant a pair of thick, fleece, snowflake-patterned pajama bottoms, an old purple t-shirt that said, 'I think you're wonderful,' in block letters on the front, and an oversized fleece navy-blue hoodie. The hoodie made her look fat, but she didn't care. Who would see? Because of the enhanced muscle development, 'willowy' was not a term that described most Redneck girls. She was slim but strong.

Her bruised temple was giving off sharp little pulses of pain. Washing her face and hands, she pulled off the tight band that kept her hair in the required ponytail, letting it fall loose over her shoulders to hang halfway down her back. That felt good. Her thick, light- brown hair was always a tight fit in her helmet. There was no way she was cutting it short. As a patriot, Sky was prepared to give up a lot for her country, just not her hair.

She examined her face in the bathroom mirror. A dark stain was already spreading across her skin by the hairline. That was going to make a nasty bruise. Still, nothing some concealer and foundation couldn't fix. Since all Negatives were in Tactical at school, everyone was used to seeing each other in less than mint condition. She'd grab a quick shower before bed. It was great now that water rationing was done and you could bathe any time. Until a couple of years ago, water and power went off at ten p.m. The night seemed quiet now without the
chug chug
of portable diesel generators people used to keep their freezers frosty. She'd fallen asleep to that sound for years.

Over dinner, sitting at the big walnut maple table with the matching captains chairs, she told her aunt what happened on patrol. Eloise's boys were both grown and out of the house. Graduates of Tactical, as was her aunt back in the day. She knew the realities of HK. Still did. Like every other Negative, she remained a member of the Home Guard Reserve after finishing active duty. Men and women fifty and over took turns on Neighborhood Watch, helping Tactical with patrols after curfew.

When Sky got to the part about being smashed over the head, Eloise got up, came around the table, and hugged her again.

Something caught Sky's eye as her aunt sat down. 

“Who was here today?”

Eloise followed her stare. “Who wasn't? I had at least ten appointments. The last was a woman. She lost a...”

“Dachshund?” Sky finished.

“That's exactly right. I gather the spirit didn't go home with her when she left?”

“Nope. Just ran into the kitchen. Maybe Alex will find it.” Eloise could t
alk
to animal spirits. She couldn't always
see
them. Which was kind of ironic, since Sky could see but not hear her dog. “Oh, that reminds me.”

She explained about the boy in the waiting room and how he had seen the spirit of her dead dog.

“Did he know Alex was just a ghost?”

She shook her head. “Didn't seem to. He acted like Alex was real.” She motioned for Eloise to keep seated. “I'll clear the table. How is that possible for him, I mean, to see that?”

Her aunt laughed. “You do realize ghosts and the people who communicate with them have been around a lot longer than the plagues. Just look at me!”

Sky's enhancement forced her to see through so many spectrums of light. Too many. Scales even animals couldn't register, like the after image of sound waves. Her friends had called her 'Bat girl' when that one developed. Even though they were only joking, Sky just lost it once when she was twelve and started crying. They never called her that again because they really were her friends.

There were other patterns she sometimes saw. Oscillating ones in black and white, things the doctors hadn't even been able to identify fully yet. The only way she kept her sanity when not on patrol was by wearing contact lenses that blocked all but the most standard light waves. Though nothing blocked the animal ghost visions. She took the lenses out on patrol but had to take motion sickness medicine when she did. Her enhancements matured slowly, which meant she still had difficulty some days putting everything together into a coherent picture.

Ghosts were a by product of her crazy new vision. Alex was the first. She'd seen him get on the Tactical van the very first day after his death. Seen him as clear as day as he jumped on board and curled up under her seat.

She didn't really think of that particular enhancement as supernatural. Like horror story ghosts or something. They were energy signatures that had gotten stuck. That's how the Psych techs at Tactical explained it during counseling sessions for new recruits. Another spectrum of light that most people and instruments could not fine-tune their vision to see.

The ability was a link to her aunt and her mom's family line. Sky hoped that would not become any stronger as she grew older. Escalating from animal ghosts to people ghosts. That would be awful. The spectral world had to be overflowing with human ghosts from the plagues. Spirits or energy or whatever they were who didn't know how to move on.

She started to wash the dishes. Eloise still had her old dishwasher; no one used them anymore. They wasted too much water. “Yes, of course, people have been able to see this spectrum forever. It's just that nowadays, the whole ghost thing seems to center around Negatives rather than Positives.”

“Is he a Negative?”

“No. I've seen his wristband. Azure. AB positive. It should be red by now, as a survivor, or if he won the lottery.”

“Or he should be dead. Very rare to make it to high school without developing the blood plague.”

“Maybe he has. His dad is giving him transfusions at the hospital. He's a doctor or something. Visiting from England.”

Her Aunt walked over to the sink and leaned against the counter.  “From England you say? A doctor working with blood?”

Sky set the big pot to dry separately on a dishtowel. “I'm not sure about the blood part. Definitely from England though, I heard the accent.”

“Well, isn't that interesting.”

Something in her aunt's tone of voice made Sky look at her. Eloise was staring at the wall, frowning.

“Is..is there something I should know?” Sky asked.

“What? Oh. No, no. Just thinking about the boy. Perhaps his ghostly ability is natural. Like the psychics of old. Come on,” she pulled Sky away from the sink. “let's watch TV. Will Smith is going to be on the Tonight Show. Can't miss that!”

Sky brought her laptop and curled up on the nubby turquoise wool couch with one of the plaid fleece throws wrapped around her, a nest of throw pillows and the TV on. Maximilien, the Maine Coon, finally made an appearance. He belonged to her cousin Anthony, Eloise's older boy, currently in London for work. Oozing out from under the couch in that semi-liquid state cats seemed able to achieve, he jumped up on Sky's lap and settled in. She studied and watched the rerun of the Tonight Show.

Well, they were reruns to her
aunt.
For Sky and others of her generation, everything old was new again. Hollywood had been as hard hit as any other industry by the plague. It wasn't just the stars who died. Those were easily replaceable. There are always pretty people, even in the worst of times. Unfortunately, the plagues took most of the technicians, camera people, lighting specialists, and scriptwriters along with them. Cable TV was a thing of the past. America was back to three major networks – which, apparently, nothing could kill – PBS and some local access.

Some years before, the networks and remaining movie companies banded together for an agreement to synchronize prime time broadcasts and major movie releases for a specific year. Radio and the music business did the same. Since they couldn't market new artists, they just re-packaged the old ones. Scheduling releases as though they were happening for the first time. Her mom couldn't believe that teens today were watching the exact same celebrities and TV shows she had at their age. Right now everyone was excited for the release of the SciFi action film, Independence Day, starring Will Smith – event though it was coming out for Thanksgiving instead of Fourth of July. Aunt Eloise said that was when the film was released when she was a kid.

The ghost of Alex engaged Tricia in a game of tag. As appropriate for a dog of a pet psychic, Tricia had no trouble interacting with spectral Alex. Which was nice for both of them. Weiner dog ghost watched shyly from under an end table.

Sky missed her mom. If she couldn't be with her, though, Aunt Eloise was a great stand in. She was a little older than Sky's mom. They looked a lot alike though, around five foot five, sill slim, fair skinned with bright blue eyes. Her mom's hair was more brown than red, Eloise's the opposite. She wore it in a fluffy pageboy turned up at the ends. Sky had never met her uncle. His name was Bernard or Benjamin or something with a 'B'. Eloise divorced him long ago, keeping his last name because she said she liked the sound of it, Eloise Edwards. Her two sons were both Negatives since, whatever his failings, her ex-husband was another O-type, just by chance, in those happy, carefree days before the bird flu. Both boys were in government service. Derick, the younger, a diplomat and Sky's inspiration for her career plans. They were married and had kids themselves.