Paranormal Realities (A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Box Set) Read online

  The hairy man who’d been angled was gone. He must have escaped the vortex just as Franky was lost in it. Forcing my head to move, I spotted the familiar red head a few feet below me and to my left.

  I relaxed my body, gave up resistance, and moved quickly to my friend. The tips of our fingers touched. His head tilted back and he gaped up at me. I’d never seen such fear in anyone…except perhaps Adam. I reached for him. Before I could take Franky’s hand into mine, the convulsions of the vortex took him down and he vanished.

  Stunned, I didn’t move. Then I saw a figure coming from below. For a moment my heart leapt in hope. But the head of this figure had long flowing black hair and even at this angle I could tell it was a woman. She sped toward me as if swimming with a current. Finally face-to-face, her exotic features of yellow eyes, high cheekbones and full red lips, fascinated me. She smirked as she gazed into my eyes. Her lips widened to a grin before parting to reveal a full mouth of pointed, razor sharp teeth. Her hand, with claw-like nails, reached for me.

  I don’t know what would have happened if the rope at my waist hadn't jerked me violently back and up. As I was dragged, the monstrously beautiful woman moved down and away. As I neared the surface, I saw Juliette sinking. Terror filled her eyes and her mouth was wide in a silent scream. I thrust out a hand to her but she was too far away for even brief contact.

  The pull of the rope almost split me in two, but it tugged me ruthlessly up. The swirling area of the vortex had shrunk to no bigger than a basketball by this time, but I made it through. As I broke the surface of the vortex, I gulped in a heaving breath. I hadn't been conscious of oxygen deprivation, but it seemed my body had. The drag continued until I lay like a beached whale on solid ground.

  I wiped the sweat from my face, pushed the hair out of my eyes and took in what was happening around me and saw the back of the great hairy figure as he lumbered away down the tunnel in the direction of the grate. Billy kneeled at the side of the shrinking vortex crying Juliette’s name over and over. Quinn hadn't moved from his statuary position in the corner. Rom and Senji wrestled with the figure I’d come to think of as the horseman. Well, actually Rom and the figure struggled and Senji hung on the side of the horseman like a barnacle.

  I managed to get to my feet and stagger to Billy.

  “Help them.” I grabbed his shoulder and shook him.

  He swiveled his head and looked up at me with moist red eyes.

  “She’s gone,” he said. “Juliette. I really loved her, you know.”

  “Get up,” I screamed. “We might be able to get her back if you help us.”

  “She’s gone.” His head fell into his hands and he sobbed.

  Turning my attention back to the fight, I saw the horseman had almost broken free of Rom. Rom threw a punch and his fist cracked against the horseman’s jaw. The horseman staggered back, stunned and Rom pushed him toward the vortex. But somehow the horseman recovered. He clutched at Rom, seizing his forearm and biting down.

  “Aghhhh,” Rom cried out.

  I dashed to one of the construction lights and picked it up by the tripod. Wielding it like a club, I struck the horseman across the back. The fixture smashed and the bulb shattered scattering glass over the horseman's shoulders. The blow forced him to release his biting hold on Rom’s arm. As Rom fell to his knees, the horseman shook off Senji. The horseman hopped over Rom and then barreled off past the remaining light before disappearing down the tunnel.

  Part II: Anarchy

  Quantum entanglement: “spooky action at a distance.” -Albert Einstein.

  Chapter Seven

  Senji stood cleaning Rom’s arm with antiseptic on one side of what remained of the morgue. Quinn finally emerged from his corner and helped Billy to his feet before the two of them stumbled out.

  I stared at the design on the floor. My mind could not process what had happened, but I knew Juliette and Franky were gone. I also knew that somehow I had caused all this.

  There was only one thing to do now. I bolted.

  “Kizzy,” Rom called after me and the echo of my name followed me as I ran.

  * * * * *

  The next morning I didn’t wait for Mom to pry me out of bed as I usually did. I rose, dressed before dawn and opened the front door to sneak out. However, despite my efforts, Mom caught me.

  She leaned into the hall from inside the kitchen.

  “Oh, Kizzy.” She stepped fully into the hall. “Off to school?”

  Facing the open front door, I grunted.

  “Do you want me to drive you?” Her tone was sunny.

  “I’ll walk,” I mumbled.

  “Okay. Be careful, honey.”

  Too late for that, I thought and stepped over the threshold.

  During the night I’d decided I wasn’t to blame for Franky and Juliette. I’d told them not to go to the hospital. I’d warned Juliette not to go into the morgue hadn’t I? Still I couldn’t face Mom. Maybe I wasn’t so convinced of my lack of blame after all.

  “Oh and Kizzy?”

  I stopped, but didn’t turn around.

  “Have you seen Juliette?” Mom asked.

  “Not today.” Truthful answer.

  “Where is she?”

  Should I be truthful or lie?

  “I don’t know.” A little of both.

  “She said she was going to her friend Brenda’s house to study last night. I suppose she spent the night.”

  I said nothing.

  “When you see her at school, have her call me.”

  “Sure.” I closed the door softly behind me.

  As I trudged down the sidewalk, my phone pinged. Glancing at its face, I saw Petra had texted me: Senji Nsane re: lst nyt ?^?

  She wasn’t the only one with questions about what had happened last night.

  L8r, I texted back, not knowing how to explain now or ever. If I weren’t a coward, I wouldn’t go to school. I’d leave town and never come back.

  Rom waited for me at the end of the block. Great. Another person I didn’t feel ready to face. I would have passed him without speaking but he moved to block my way. Determinedly, I examined the buttons of his shirt.

  “Kizzy.” His long fingers traced my jaw line ending at my chin and exerting slight pressure to force my gaze up to his. “Discourse together is needed.”

  “Not now,” I shook my head. “I can’t right now.”

  His eyes searched my face before leaning forward. I knew he intended to kiss me. Although I longed for his lips on mine, that pleasure would have been a betrayal. I didn’t deserve pleasure or happiness or affection when Juliette and Franky were lost. Turning my head away, I avoided his lips and he pulled back.

  “I can’t do that either now,” I said. “I have to think.”

  “Accord. But I beg you do nothing concerning the vortex without prior discourse with me. Vow it.”

  Having no desire to have anything to do with the tunnel or the vortex again, a promise was easy.

  “All right.” I nodded and he released the gentle hold on my chin.

  “May I at least convey you to school?” He pointed to his car at the curb.

  Walking to the passenger door was my only answer.

  * * * * *

  I didn’t have science that day but I stopped into the classroom anyway to see if Mr. Hutson could talk to me. As I hovered on the threshold, he was gathering papers and stuffing them into a file folder. He glanced up and spotted me.

  “Kizzy.” He waved me in. “How can I help you?”

  “I wondered if you could tell me…” How could I put this? Any way I framed the questions I had was bound to sound absolutely mental. “If somebody disappears and leaves this world where do they go?” I finally asked.

  “Are you asking where we go when we die?” Mr. Hutson’s brows furrowed. “Your pastor could probably answer that better than I.” His face fell into a sympathetically wan smile. “I know you had a loss recently.”

  “No.” I took a big step forward. “I don
’t mean death. I mean...” I couldn’t help staring down. I couldn’t meet his eyes and continue. “Well. Let’s say the floor underneath you somehow opened up into this big whirlpool and swallowed you down and you disappeared. Where would you have gone?”

  “I’m not sure.” He sat there thinking as if attempting to formulate an answer that wouldn’t totally crush the teen by telling her he thought she was one of the stupidest human beings he’d ever come across. I, nevertheless, waited for his answer.

  “Some physicists have theories about multiple dimensions or universes," my teacher continued. "Depending on who created the theory, they are called by many different terms. Parallel dimensions, multiverses, etc. There are dozens of different names, each with a different hypothesis on how these multiple dimensions exist and why and what sorts of physical laws relate to their operation.”

  “I see.” Not really. “So what you’re saying is that if you were swallowed up into the floor you might have actually traveled to another dimension or universe.”

  "Yes." He nodded.

  “What if...What if something came out of the floor in your place.”

  “Wow,” Mr. Hutson said. “You really are in science fiction territory.” He placed a hand to his temple. “The only scientific explanation I can think of is the quantum mechanics theory of entanglements. The theory was developed from a phenomenon observed by scientists wherein a particle may be tweaked and another moves miles away. They’ve seen this movement and without any discernable connection between the two. Scientists have theorized the connection between the particles is in some other dimension.”

  “So what you’re saying is if someone were sucked through the floor and replaced with someone—or something—else, then the two may have been entangled together?”

  What if Juliette and Franky were entangled with those monsters? What would that mean?

  “There’s a book about string theory that might interest you called The Elegant Universe. I'll lend it to you if you like." Mr. Hutson laughed again. “Of course, there’s a totally different explanation. Some ministers they might say if such a whirlpool had opened under me I was probably sucked into hell.” He stood up and placed another file folder in his briefcase. “Good thing the floor can’t open up and swallow me down.”

  “Yeah. Good thing.”

  Wandering the halls while my mind raced, I almost missed my locker. As I rummaged inside it, Petra bound up and skidded to a halt.

  “Senji told me some batshit crazy stuff about last night,” she said in a disgusted tone. “Oh there he is now.”

  Glancing over my shoulder I saw Senji barreling down on us.

  “WTF?” Senji pushed his glasses up and fidgeted with agitation. But he seemed excited too. Happy in a way. The science geek probably enjoyed this. “Wasn’t last night unbelievable?”

  I said nothing. I couldn’t.

  “Juliette and Franky. And those things? What were those?” His excited tone made me want to punch him in this Asian nose.

  “I’m not buying, Senji. It’s crazy,” Petra said.

  “Man. It was so totally crazy but so completely true.” He pushed his glasses up again.

  Petra turned to me. “He’s just trying to punish me for convincing Chase to go on our date rather than the spelunk, right?”

  “No.” I found my government class text but needed my notebook. “He’s not lying.”

  “How would you know anyway?” Petra playfully hit my arm with her calculus text. “You weren’t even there. You were out with Rom.”

  “Rom and I had a fight so I went to the spelunk.” The notebook had slipped to the back and I pulled it free. “I wish I hadn’t.” I closed the locker. In the process I fumbled and my armload fell to the floor. The notebook landed open.

  “Come on, Kizzy. Enough is enough. This is taking a joke too far.”

  My eyes met Petra’s. “It’s not a joke.”

  The smile slipped off her face. “Omigod.”

  I bent to gather my stuff from the floor and saw the notebook had opened to the page I’d stuck the post-it to yesterday. Harold Anderson along with a telephone number and address. What had the librarian said? Anderson knew about “oddities”.

  “What are you going to do about the tunnel?” Petra asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You have to,” Senji insisted. “What about Juliette? What about Franky?”

  “Why is it on me?” I yelled. “Why don’t you two do something?”

  “But—” Petra began.

  “Enough!”

  Running away from them and down the hall, I spotted the women’s restroom. It beckoned like a sanctuary and I darted inside. Standing before the bank of mirrors over the sinks, I examined myself. The pallid and drawn face in the mirror couldn’t be mine, but it was.

  The door swung open and Petra rushed in. Before she could say anything I scooted into one of the stalls and pushed the metal door closed in her face. Lowering the lid on the toilet I sat down.

  Scratched into the metal stall wall, graffiti bore the message: Tara sucks.

  So does Kizzy, I thought. Kizzy sucks.

  “Talk to me.” Petra spoke from the other side of the metal door.

  “Leave me alone,” I said. “I’m trying to pee.”

  “You are not. You’re trying to avoid me. You wanna close yourself off like you did when Adam…” She pounded a hand on the door and I jumped. “But I’m not letting you.”

  The outer door of the restroom swung open with a swishing sound and I heard Senji come in.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he called to me.

  “Get out!” Petra ordered.

  “Okay. Okay.”

  When the swish of Senji's leaving sounded, I rose, opened the door and stepped out.

  “All right. Here it is," I snapped. "You want to know what I’m going to do? I'm going to do nothing.“

  Petra started to speak and I interrupted her.

  “I keep failing.” My voice broke. “I failed Adam and now I’ve failed Juliette and Franky. I know I’m a coward but in the long run it’s better for everyone if I stop trying. I’ll only make things worse. So I’m going to do nothing.”

  “You don’t fail. The thing with Adam...Who could have done any better under the circumstances?”

  I would have spoken but she stopped me. Unlike the typical Petra, this one was totally serious as she gazed at me.

  “And if even half of what Senji said about last night is true, you did all you could. You are so not a coward,” she said. “You’re whatever the polar opposite of coward is."

  Her words struck me. Petra considered me brave?

  "But you never ask people to help you," she continued. "We’re here.” She gently shook me. “I’m here. You don’t have to do everything alone all the time.”

  The words echoed against the tile walls before the room went silent. Could I trust myself to do something to get Juliette and Franky back? Could I trust my friends to help? As much as I wanted to forget the vortex and everything associated with it, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try to get Juliette and Franky back. Just as I would never forgive myself for losing Adam...but there was nothing I could do to save him now. One death on my conscience was enough.

  “Even if I wanted to do something I have no idea where to even start,” I said. Then a thought struck. “Wait. Maybe there is something or someone.”

  After flipping the notebook open, I paged through until I found the post-it.

  “I could start with him.” I pointed to the name.

  "We," she emphasized.

  "We," I affirmed.

  “Him who?” Petra asked.

  “Remember the historian the librarian told us about yesterday?”

  “Yes. No. I wasn’t really listening,” Petra admitted.

  The second bell rang signaling class had started. I knew what I had to do. And it wasn’t going to class.

  * * * * *

  Petra insisted on going with me. I
let her help since she had a license and a car whereas I didn’t. The address I had for the historian was in Pooler about ten miles away. We found an old faded green farmhouse at the end of a remote dirt driveway. The overgrowth on the property around it shielded the house from view on the adjacent street. We almost missed it but, at the last second, I saw the mailbox mounted on a tilting wood post bearing the address.

  We exited the car. At least two separate dog “voices” barked from inside the rundown maintained house. Big dogs, I thought. Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea after all. But since this was the most hopeful I’d felt since Juliette and Franky disappeared, I resolved to talk to Anderson. So despite the trepidation I had about a possible dog bite, Petra and I ascended the wood steps to the wrap around porch and approached the door. Lifting a hand, I prepared to knock.

  “Get off my property.” The shout came from inside.

  “Mr. Anderson?” I called. His words freaked me out but I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Can we talk to you?”

  “I don’t wanna buy no girl scout cookies.”

  “We aren’t selling anything,” Petra said.

  “What do you want?”

  “The librarian at the Georgia Historical Society gave me your name and address," I replied. "She said you might be able to help us.”

  “That ugly crone should mind her own business.”

  I imagined a grizzled old curmudgeon of an academic on the other side of the closed door.

  “Instead she violates my privacy.” A thump of impact from the inside against the door made us jump. “Go away.”

  “Please, sir,” I said. “We need information about the tunnel at the old hospital.”

  The silence that met my words lengthened.

  “Hello?” I shouted. “Are you still there?”

  “Why do you want to know about the tunnel?” His voice was so quiet, I had to lean in to hear him.