Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: Tainted Energy (The Energy Series Book 1)
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After
that thought, things changed.

The sky
grew darker, dimming all the crazy colors. It didn't set off any alarms at
first. Everything grew darker at night, right? I kept walking, paying no
attention to the sudden quiet. I even decided to set up some sort of camp, the
place way better than the dank trailer park.

Gushing
water changed my mind.

After an
hour of calm, the noise had my danger sensors finally working. The tranquil
river transformed into an entity not even safe for extreme whitewater rafting.
It roared in my ears like a pride of lions in an echo chamber. I did a
one-eighty and picked up my speed, heading back to my sweatshirt.

Where
else did I have to go?

I kept
an eye on the river and hoped the water wouldn't overtake its banks. The heat grew
unbearable, my mouth drying up so much my tongue swelled. That scent I wanted
to take home with me switched to the smell of a beach when dead fish washed
ashore.

I raced
through options, everything sounding stupid, as a sharp squeal came from the
tops of the trees. Against my better judgment, I looked up. My speed walk
turned into a full-out run.

Bright
pink giant squid occupied every tree, their tentacles as thick as the trunks
they latched onto and about ten feet long with suction cups the size of
baseballs. They climbed lower on the trees, a few already halfway down the
hundred-foot trunks. I kept running, trying to block out the squeals that sounded
way too human.

The
slight breeze that came from the river was now a gust strong enough to whip my
damp hair across my cheeks and snarl it in bushes and low-hanging limbs,
slowing me down. It yanked out of my skull as I pushed ahead, pain searing my
scalp.

As I ran
closer to where my shirt hung, the master plan ended. The waterfall now rushed
into the river with so much power the rocks at the bottom were splitting and
cracking.

The
squid continued to descend, two or three sitting as low as my height. I
wrenched my shirt from the tree and double knotted the sleeves around my waist,
my attention on the squid about twenty feet from my head.

I didn't
have to think too hard about my next move.

Jumping
over the bank, I landed with a blip as the river carried me away, twice the
depth than when I first got here.

Swimming
was out. Keeping my head above water was hard enough. The water pulled me under,
the roaring sounds crushing my eardrums, as those little elephants slammed into
me.

I kicked
to the surface, finally reaching the top for a gulp of air. Squid lined each
bank, squealing, and a shadow that looked like a man stumbled through the trees,
following me down the river.

My eyes
locked on that figure. "Help!"

The
river pulled me back in, not allowing any more than a few hits of oxygen.
Muscles in my legs burned as I commanded them to keep kicking, but the river
wasn't letting go. My lungs hurt, and a vise grip squeezed my head.

I fought
until my legs refused to listen.

A keen sense
of conceding to the water relaxed me. No more energy remained to fight, and the
river knew it. As soon as I stopped kicking, the water stopped raging. Peace
washed over me as the warmth caressed my cheeks, soothing my nerves while the
fluorescent blue killed me.

Before I
closed my eyes, a vaguely familiar, raspy voice brushed against my ear.
"Hold
on..."

Everything
after that went black.

 

 

 

Lena

 

A
scream lodged in my throat as hair
held me hostage, suffocating me.

My eyes snapped
open.

Twisted
in blankets and hair, I lay in bed, the sun shooting through the open window
and smacking me in the face.

So…when
the hell did I open the window?

Untangling
my body from the polyester, I reached over to turn off the screeching alarm–6:30
.
The thing had been buzzing for fifteen minutes.

I sat in
the middle of my bed, brushing all the matted, snarled hair away from my face.
When the river, squid, and colors hurled into my brain, I scrambled to find the
floor.

The
mattress wasn't leaking or anything. Nothing seemed out of place. Probably a
screwed-up nightmare…yeah, had to be.

I glanced
down.

Tiny,
raw scrapes littered my feet, and when I pulled up my damp sweats, the cuts
continued up my legs. I combed through my hair, my fingers getting stuck in
knots twisted with twigs. Next to the blankets I had pulled to the floor was my
sweatshirt, creating a fluorescent puddle.

No
way.

I slid
against the wall until I felt the doorknob. After a few attempts to open the
door, I ran into the bathroom and flicked on the light. The image in the mirror
wasn't the usual. A thin scratch traced the line of my jaw, but that was
minimal compared to the color of my eyes, skin, lips...my hair.

Seriously…no…way.

My eyes
were the same rich color as the leaves, and my lips were bright pink, like the
squid. The dull brown of my hair was now as deep a chocolate as the tree
trunks. The ultra-white of my skin magnified all the color, my complexion as
smooth and creamy as those elephants that stung my legs.

I
touched my lips and smoothed my hair, examining a beautiful version of myself…a
cartoon character…an exaggerated Jessica Rabbit.

Oh, no.

I wasn't
crazy. A pill and a stint on the third floor at Pocono Medical wouldn't cure
this.

Nope, and
so much worse, I'd have to handle whatever was happening alone.

There
was nothing I could do if my bed or a theater seat–a toilet seat for that
matter–decided to suck me back to that place.

The
kitchen was quiet, both parents thankfully still in bed. I pulled the shears
out of the chopping block on the counter and went back into the bathroom.

After
ten minutes of brushing out bits of trees, I braided my hair. One deep breath
and I held the shears at the base of the braid and cut through it.

Tangled
hair wouldn't slow me down again during any other future episodes.

God, I
hoped there would be no future episodes.

 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

I made
it to the bus stop as it pulled up to the entrance of the park. I shaped my
hair the best I could. No doubt when it dried it'd be standing up all over the
place. Unfortunately, my new look accomplished sneers from most of the girls
and unwanted interest of some guys.

"Take
a picture, assholes." I sat in the back and closed my eyes as the bus
grumbled to school.

Last
night, I almost died, and the biggest question I had was,
what the hell?

Answers
were an imminent necessity, and the best I could come up with was Internet
research. I didn't know what to Google, maybe start with something like people
getting sucked into their beds, colorful places, or another stupid Boolean
phrase.

Whatever.

I'd try
them all and hope something would pop up.

After
handing off a bag to Jake, who kept commenting on how different I looked, I
went to homeroom and found Zander waiting with breakfast. The familiar fog he
usually created crept into my brain and seeped into my muscles.

"Hi,"
I said, strapping my bag on the back of my seat.

His wrinkled
clothes and stress-lined dark face surprised me, and before I could sit, he got
up to kiss my brains out.

Definitely
surprised–actually, sliding more toward shocked.

"Hi."
His chest heaved. "You're beautiful."

Shy, I
looked down at my shoes. "I missed you," I said, forgetting that I
hadn't given him a real thought since after my run the day before.

"And
I can't tell you how glad I am to see you right now." His fingers shook as
they pressed against my cheeks.

"It's
only been a day, Zander."

"Well,
it feels like years. I…I hoped you'd be here."

I laced
his fingers with mine, tugging them from my face. "Where else would I go?"

On our way
to Gym, I told him about my dad's sudden change–not willing to bring up the
nightmare from last night. That incident definitely fell into the theater seat
department.

The
stress tightening his face worsened. "That's great, Lena. Maybe you guys
can work things out, save the hassle of movin'."

So
New Zander was a comedian? Or just an asshole?

"Work
things out?" I pulled my hand away from his. "Are you serious?"

"Well,
if he's not hittin' anybody and wants to work things out, why not?" He
shrugged even as sweat beaded on his forehead. "Do you really think ya'll
are gonna make it without him? I mean, your mom's kinda weak, and you…"

"What're
you saying right now?" I stopped in the middle of the hall, making people
walk around us. Rage stained my voice. "
What the hell are you saying?
"

He tried
to pull me close, but I squirmed away. He sighed. "I'm just sayin' maybe
give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he's changin'."

Betrayal
ripped my heart. One of the only people on the planet who I assumed actually
knew me thought I was a weakling. Thought I was better off living with a
monster. "I... need to be away from you."

"Wait.
Lena!"

"No,
Zander. Seriously, just…leave me alone." I left him standing in the hall,
not bothering to look back.

 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

Coach
Stump understood my predicament–a family trouble line of shit–and agreed to let
me skip tryouts. Tryouts were just a formality for me, really. I'd secured a
permanent spot on the team when I was in ninth grade and Stump caught me racing
all the kids in class for money.

I wouldn't
let Dad take my future away, no matter how much he wanted to repair our broken
family. It didn't need to be repaired–it needed an amputation. An alcoholic,
abusive prick amputation.

I
avoided Zander in Gym and English, even though he made it difficult. I still
felt that tug when he was in the same room, but I shook my head when he tried
to talk to me.

He
skipped lunch. Good. When I finished eating, I'd cut the rest of the period and
Chemistry to go to the library, do some research. Having him around would only
piss me off, and it'd make it hard to come up with an excuse to leave without
him, too.

The last
time Belva sat in the cafeteria she shoved my lunch on the floor–and shit her
pants afterward. Today, she sat by herself. There were plenty of jokes directed
her way. Most people didn't even bother to hide it. She just sat there, in her
sweatpants and hoodie, ignoring everyone. Against my better judgment, I felt
sorry for her. Maybe I'd sit with her, force her to talk to me.

I slid
my tray closer to Wilma and noticed the dark bags under her eyes. Everyone in
front of me handed her their money without her acknowledgment. She kept her
hand out and shooed them along when money landed in her palm.

"Ah,
hi, missed ya this morning. Had to ride with the rest of the trash." I
handed her my ticket. My grin faltered as she pinned me with her blue darts,
refusing to accept it. "What's wrong?"

Her
voice was flat as she shook her head. "You have fun last night?"

Chattering
sounds at the round tables began to sound slushy in my ringing ears. "What're
you talking about?"

"When
are you going to learn to control your fear?" She slammed a fist on her
register. "Better yet, when will you stop chasing it?"

I shoved
my ticket closer to her, trying to hide the shakes attacking my sweaty hand. "I
don't know–"

"You
know damn well what I'm saying." She kept her voice low, hissing like a
rattler.

I scanned
the cafeteria, no one interested in our conversation. When I faced her again,
the expression on her face reminded me of that calm in the atmosphere before a
tornado ripped through.

Like any
smart human being, I wanted to get as far away from the storm's eye as
possible. "Just punch my ticket. I'm hungry."

She held
her hand out to another late straggler as he paid for his lunch, continuing
with the crazy as soon as he left. "Do you think you're safe, Lena?"
She gestured toward my face.

Numbness
taking over my lips made it impossible to answer.

"Tell
me, was it the squid or the river you liked most?" Her face was no longer
dull, but bright red, combustible.

"How'd
you know?" Oh, shit.
Hold on…
"You were there."

The
panic racing through me must've transferred to my face because she softened her
voice. "There's a lot I know, and a lot you need to know. Things you
should've never found out." She adjusted in her seat, keeping her voice
low.

"Jesus,
tell me! I'm going crazy, right?"

Wilma
punched my ticket and collected her things. "Come by the house tonight."
She stomped into the kitchen, not waiting for a reply.

 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

"Can
I come over after work?" Zander pasted that ridiculous half-grin on his
face, but it didn't have the same effect. As usual, he managed to get me
talking by the end of the day. His apology was weak, but fighting with him took
too much energy. Besides, the brain fuzz…so totally like a drug.

"Not
a good idea right now. Dad's on a mission." I did my best to sound bored,
but Wilma confirmed there were bigger monsters out there than my born-again
dad.

"Well...how
about I sneak in your window." He pulled me closer. "I could help
keep you warm, maybe stay until dawn."

All I
wanted to do was get away from him, withdrawal from the Zander heroin. "Ah,
don't think so."

"Well,
when can I see you again...outside of this place?"

I shook my
head, trying to clear the fuzz, and stepped back. "With my dad and
everything, I need some time. Alone."

"That's
not what I think, Lena." He squeezed my upper arms, staring over my
shoulder. I gave a subtle shrug to indicate how tight his grip was, but his
hands didn't relax.

"Let
go." I shrugged again, but he kept his bruising hold on my arms.

"I
can't be away from you that long."

I tried
to sound mad, but his weird act made it come out as a whimper. "You need
to let go." My voice sounded frail, pissing me off.

His face
lightened and his grip finally loosened. "I'm sorry. It's just that I need
to be around you."

I wouldn't
admit he made my skin crawl for the first time ever.

Stalker,
co-dependent boyfriend, anyone?

"It's
complicated right now. Dad wants me home a lot."

"I
know, sorry. It's our fight today...I can't lose you."

Being
close to him was no less overwhelming than it was Saturday, when he kissed me. But
unlike then, dread sat in my stomach.

 

∞ ∞ ∞

 

I ran
home. By the time I made it there, the bus had come and gone. Some kids still
hung out at the park entrance, smoking and practicing their insult skills with
a witty jab or a sarcastic uppercut. The laughter sounded soothing, normal.

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