Read The Unlocked (Charlie Hartley Series Book 1) Online
Authors: J.D. Stonebridge
The Unlocked (Charlie Hartley Series Book 1)
The Unlocked
A Charley Hartley
Novel Book 1
J.D. Stonebridge
Copyright @ 2014 by J.D. Stonebridge
This is a work of
fiction. All characters, places and events in this book are from the
imagination of the author or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
places, organizations, events or real people, living or dead, are purely
coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part
of this e-book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without the expressed written
permission from the author and publishing company.
Dedicated to
Nikki, Inna, Noella, and Gemma
You have my thanks and gratitude
The Charley Hartley Series:
The Unlocked, Book 1
The Enlightened, Book 2
CHAPTER 1:
Charlene “Charlie” Hartley
. 7
CHAPTER 4:
At the Crossroads
. 35
CHAPTER 5:
The Path Less Trodden
. 46
CHAPTER 7:
The Invisible Tether
67
CHAPTER 9:
Best Served Cold
. 89
CHAPTER 11:
The Consequence
. 109
CHAPTER 14:
Unexpected Alliance
. 133
CHAPTER 15:
Opportunity Costs
. 146
CHAPTER 17:
The First Spark
. 159
CHAPTER 18:
Hidden in the Shadows
. 167
CHAPTER 19:
The Sword of Light
175
“John, that black sedan’s been
tailing us since we left Plymouth Plantation at dusk,” a worried Catherine
alerted her husband, who was at the wheel as they drove along MA-3 N.
Her husband’s grim face indicated
he already knew. He glanced at the image in the rear view mirror. The driver
was unrecognizable behind the tinted windows of the car.
“Tighten your seatbelt,
Catherine.” Stepping on the gas, John went far beyond the speed limit. The
sedan picked up speed as well. He gained a good distance from their pursuers as
they merged onto MA-3 S on the ramp to Plymouth/Cape Cod.
The young mother turned to the
back seat to calm down one of their twin daughters, who was screaming as if in
pain. As she comforted, John announced, “Something’s wrong with the engine.”
Simultaneously, the street lamps
flickered as they flew past them in the little car. Catherine soon realized the
lights flickered more intensely as the baby screamed louder and louder. Smoke
billowed from the car hood and they were still moving at high speed. Was the
baby causing the street lamps and car to malfunction? She turned to tell her
husband, but his face warned her of the danger they were in. As he steered the
car around the bend, Catherine’s eyes widened in terror.
The engine exploded with a
tremendous boom, causing the speeding car to swerve and turn turtle.
Trailing some fifty feet away,
Carl Hartley, who was with his wife Sarah, screeched the car brakes and came to
an abrupt stop. They watched in horror as the vehicle flipped over before
crashing into the metal railing. The couple ran to the wreck, hoping to be of
some help. Carl bent and peered through the windows. Airbags covered in blood
held the seemingly lifeless front seat passengers in place. He broke the back
side window when he noted two car seats, but he saw only one pitifully dangling
baby girl screaming in terror. He pulled her out of the wreckage carefully so
as not to injure her.
Carl called to his wife, “Sarah,
take the baby to the car and call 911!” He dropped to his knees in an attempt
to retrieve its occupants.
But Sarah’s nostrils detected
gasoline fumes. “Carl, gasoline’s leaking! Quick, let’s get out of here!”
Carl led Sarah and the baby away quickly, just as the overturned car erupted in
flames.
Minutes after, Carl and Sarah
remained at the scene, watching the burning car, waiting for help. No cars
passed, no sirens blared the arrival of emergency vehicles. After still more
time passed, the couple grew more and more nervous. They exchanged an uneasy
look, knowing they were thinking the same thing. They climbed into the car, and
Carl quickly drove away with the unscathed child in Sarah’s arms.
They named her Charlene “Charlie”
Hartley.
1: Charlene “Charlie” Hartley
Mixed feelings of joy and sadness wrapped Charlie’s heart as
her classmates gathered at the school grounds for Joseph Foran High School’s
commencement exercises. She stood proudly watching her parents take front
seats, a privilege accorded to parents whose children were award recipients.
Being the recipient of Best in Writing, she knew her parents were thrilled to
be congratulated on their daughter’s achievement. It was the first time in
school history that Joseph Foran High School had won a national award, thanks
to Charlie.
Charlie wondered how these four
years could have gone by so swiftly. Her senior class boasted a fun group of
people and she loved them all. “I will miss high school but I’m definitely
looking forward to attending Harvard. I’m going to make waves on the global scene
as an exemplary journalist and make my country proud,” the young girl promised
herself.
Her Gang of Five posed together
for a posterity shot. “Come here Charlie Girl,” Joan called out. “Stand beside
me. When you’re rich and famous, I’ll sell our photos to Time Magazine.”
Charlie’s other best friend,
Liz, Missy, and Ginger, howled with laughter at Joan’s remark. First they posed
as the serious graduates they should be.
“Ok, now for the wacky pose,
girls,” ordered Joan. On cue, the five of them crossed their eyes, stuck out
their tongues, and puckered their lips as they waved their red graduation caps
and showed off shapely legs.
“We better get to our seats,”
Liz commented as the other graduates began to settle down. The girls slowly
parted and moved to their proper alphabetical places.
Time was running out and the
graduates knew it. Goodbye was such a small word, but it carried a lot of
sadness when uttered. Emotions ran high and before the day ended, they expected
to cry buckets of tears while hugging each other tightly.
Blue summer skies and the
school’s manicured lawn complemented the outdoor graduation venue for the two
hundred fifty graduates in their red and blue gowns. Archibald Grappe left the
podium after his valedictory address amidst the audience’s thundering applause.
The graduates were proud of him and of each other. Their senior year started
out roughly with losses in girls’ volleyball and boy’s football. But as the
months progressed, luck became theirs when Charlie brought home the Norman Mailer
Creative Non-Fiction Writing Award. Connecticut bested all other states,
resulting in Joseph Foran High School and Milford garnering more Internet
search hits than at any other time.
After the speeches, the
administration rose to distribute the diplomas and awards. Music played softly
as the graduates were called one by one. “Hartley, Charlene.” Her name echoed
through the outdoor loudspeakers. “Woo…hoo! Woo…hoo!” they chanted in
succession with easy laughter and rounds of applause. Then the entire graduating
class stood to honor Charlie as she ascended the stage to receive her diploma,
awards and certificates of recognition. Sarah and Carl also got up to applaud
their daughter for a job well done.
On top of graduating in the top
ten percent of her class, Charlie had completed Advanced Placement courses in
Literature and Composition, American History and Biology. She’d also
participated in several extra-curricular activities and had been Vice President
of Natural Helpers, contributing over two hundred hours of tutoring middle
school students in composition writing. Most notable in the young girl’s
academic performance was receiving the National Press Club’s Richard Zimmerman
Scholarship, one of the most prestigious scholarships, available to only one student
nationwide each year.
After the last graduate left
the stage, the young men and women chanted the school motto: “Strive and
Thrive, Joseph Foran High School Grads!” Incredibly excited and extraordinarily
happy, Charlie, together with all the graduates, flung her cap as high as she
could into the air. Phone video cameras captured the once-in-a-lifetime scene
as beaming parents watched with big grins.
Like all the others, Charlie’s
eyes were looking up, her hands in the air to catch her cap, but the caps
remained suspended in mid-air.
“Look! Look!” a group of
juniors shouted from the sidelines, pointing at the caps frozen twelve to
fifteen feet in the air above the graduates. While all the other caps had gone
down, twelve hung in the sky for the whole of Milford to see. Five seconds
seemed like eternity! A few were quick to notice and took photos with their
mobile phones, but for most, their astonishment kept them frozen as well.
Only Carl and Sarah knew the
explanation. They squeezed each other’s hands as they watched Charlie’s
reaction, glad the phenomenon happened too fast for anyone to make a big deal
out of it.
Early seven o’clock the next
day, Carl opened the front door of their home at Claremont Circle to pick up
the local paper. The headlines stared at him.
Foran High School Graduates’
Caps Suspended In Midair.
He stepped back into the kitchen, the smell of
coffee rising to his nostrils. He sat across the table from Sarah after making
a cup and filling hers to read the news. He looked over the paper at his wife,
who grinned at him after seeing the headline about the strange occurrence at
graduation the night before.
“This is by far the most daring
she’s done,” Sarah commented. Carl nodded his head, knowing his wife needed no
reply. She stood and headed upstairs to Charlie’s room.
“Wake up, Princess. You’ve got
some explaining to do.” Charlie stirred and smiled at her mom Sarah, a lovely
svelte woman she was, and in her mid-forties, too.
“Good morning, Mom. It’s not
like you to wake me up on my first vacation day. What’s up?”
“Well, jump in the shower then
join me and your dad for homemade macadamia cookies and some fresh milk.”
“My favorite!”
“See you in half an hour,
Princess.”
Hair still damp from her
shower, Charlie joined her parents for breakfast. “Morning, Dad.”
Carl looked up to greet his
daughter as she planted a kiss on his forehead. She poured herself a glass of
milk and looked over his shoulder. “What the... Oh my…”
She stared at the headline
photo and read the caption. Sarah noted the same expression when as
three-year-old preschooler, Charlie’s pencil rolled to her of its own accord as
she crawled under the dining room table to get it.
Charlie looked at her mother and
flashed a guilty grin. “Whew...the caption says it’s a clever optical
illusion.”
Carl was thoughtful. “It sure
looked like a good trick. You pulled that one off well, Princess. Plus points
for Foran High grabbing the headlines, but young lady, you are beginning to
worry your mom and me.”
Sarah used her serious tone
when she spoke. “Charlie, I hope you don’t mind, but your dad and I would like
to discuss options the family can consider in handling your special powers. We
know you haven’t done anything to harm yourself or others, but it may one day
get out of control.” Sarah paused to measure her words, knowing how her
daughter could get touchy when she felt underestimated. “You know, better safe
than sorry.”
“Oh Mom, you’re overreacting. I
appreciate your concern, but really, what I have is nothing. It’s not strong
enough to wage a war or harm a community.”
Carl chuckled at his daughter,
who often underestimated herself. “You’re absolutely right, Princess. Guess
what, I did some sleuthing on my own – I went online and looked up Telekinesis,
which is the closest thing I can find to explain what you do. Apparently, there
are opposing ideas about whether or not it exists, but we all know yours is
real.”
Though Charlie was curious
about what she could do, she did not pay much attention to her powers,
regarding them simply as neat little tricks for her personal fun. “It’s not
like I’m some kind of Jean Grey in X-Men. I promise to be more aware of what’s
going on so I can anticipate things before they happen. I’m pretty much in
control of making small objects move. I just need to increase my awareness of
intense feelings that seem to trigger more power and manifesting in some
unexpected way. Now I realize the degree of excitement and joy on graduation
day sparked an event.” She went on, “For now, let’s just put this behind us and
have fun before I leave for college.”
“Oh Princess,” exclaimed Sarah.
“You make me feel ancient! We are going to miss you so much.”
“I promise to phone you all the
time, Mom. And Dad, I promise to call you for extra pocket money every week.
Deal?”
Carl bellowed out his Santa
Claus laugh, “Ho Ho Ho! We’ll see about that, Princess!”
Excusing herself to her room,
Charlie dialed Liz’s number on her mobile phone. “What’s up, girl?” a sleepy
sounding voice answered.
“Wake up, sleepy head. We made
Milford Mirror’s front page!” Charlie wanted feedback from her school buddy,
who was known for not mincing words.
“I already know. My mom shoved
the paper in my face when I was still snoring.”
“What do you think about it?
Did you even notice anything yesterday?” Charlie tried to sound casual.
Liz replied in a bored
monotone, “I was occupied with all the hugging and picture posing. I had no
idea there was a commotion at all. Did you see it happen?”
Charlie replied, “No. I was too
happy to notice anything. I guess that makes me a poor journalist, huh? I’ll
let you go so you can go back to dreamland.”
The conversation sent a wave of
relief through Charlie. No big deal, she told herself. She turned to her laptop
to do a little research of her own. “Oh my goodness, there’s almost a million
results on telekinesis! Why did I never even consider reading about this
before?”
Charlie continued her research
about her special talent. Telekinesis, also known as Psychokinesis, was the
ability to physically influence something without any physical contact, but
only with the control of the mind. Many articles claimed such ability was
fictional, practiced with strings attached and camera tricks. But others
claimed the talent to be the evolution of the human mind. Charlie listed few
notable films and novels that tackled the idea of telekinesis, one of which was
Stephen King's
Carrie
.
Well, that's one way to
motivate me to learn how to control my powers.
Charlie thought grimly,
seeing the synopsis of the novel-to-film adaptation
.
She put away her laptop after
about an hour of reading, looked around, and selected some light objects to
spread on the left side of her desk.
Alrighty, let’s see. A paper clip, an
eraser, a pencil, a rubber band. Charlie Hartley, make these things move to the
opposite end.
She stared at the four objects one by one. The eraser
didn’t budge at all but rubber band moved with little effort.
Come on pencil, you can do
it. Roll for me like you did when I was three
years. The pencil did
as she willed it. Charlie got excited and blurted, “Cool! Now, paperclip, at my
command, jump off the table!” Toink! An invisible force hurled the clip against
the wall before it landed on the floor. “Whoa!” an amazed Charlie cried out.
Encouraged, she chose heavier
objects - a shoe, a hardback book and a bar of soap - and lined them at her
feet.
Focus, Charlie Girl, and visualize these objects moving like a
choo-choo train across the wooden floor.
Five minutes went by. No
movement. “Concentrate,” she told herself. Twenty minutes later, still
nothing but mounting frustration. She wondered if she should concentrate
longer, but her impatient nature won.
“Oh well, there goes the limit
of my powers.” Disappointed but somehow relieved, Charlie concluded that her
telekinetic abilities worked only on light objects. It was not powerful enough
for Mom and Dad to worry about her.
“But Charlie,” she said to
herself, “what if you could hone your powers and make them work for you when
you want them to?” She let out a chuckle, “Oh I know, I can write about
telekinesis one day. Maybe I should dabble in fiction writing and become the
next J.K. Rowling.”
She remembered how Carl had
been her biggest influence in her affinity with fiction novels. Like a
daily ritual, her father would wind down his day getting lost in a book for an
hour or two before retiring to bed, and she wondered how ecstatic he’d be to
read a novel she wrote.
At his bedside reading his book
while Sarah lay with her eyes closed, Carl noticed the slumber he anticipated
did not arrive. “How come you aren’t dosing like you usually do at this time?”
“Hon, I can’t. Something tells
me we should be more cautious with Charlie and her powers. My guts tell me they
will manifest more frequently as she gets older and may get stronger.”
Sarah sat up and they talked
about that fateful night in 1996. “Remember how shocked we were watching that
car turn turtle almost in front of us? I sometimes wake up in the middle of the
night with my pulse racing like crazy – the same feeling I had that night.”
Carl mulled over an idea, “I
wonder if the accident had anything to do with Charlie’s powers? But then,
Charlie’s powers aren’t so strong as to pose any danger to herself or anyone.
She’s almost eighteen. So far, what we’ve seen from her are entertaining acts
that make us smile. In fact, it makes me proud my daughter taps a part of her
brain most people, us included, can’t. Unfortunately, I can’t boast about it.”
Sarah pinched Carl. “Oh Hon,
that is absurd! You would never do that, would you?”
He turned to kiss and assure
her, “Of course not, my love. You and Charlie are so precious to me. I wouldn’t
do anything to cause harm to either of you. You know that.”
Sarah asked him if they should even
tell Charlie the truth. “I haven’t thought about that in a while. Why do you
ask?”