Ember
Rising Light
~The debut book of the Ember Series~
By:
C.K. Mullinax
Thank you for downloading this free eBook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
Copyright © 2011 C.K. Mullinax
Smashwords Edition
-Book One of the Ember Series-
Discover other titles by C.K. Mullinax at
For Aunt Gail
Thank you for your example of how to be a strong, independent female…
Your adventurous life and fearless steps help me to live life, unafraid…
Your unbelievable courage lights the path and blazes the trail…
You truly are an amazing woman…
For Uncle Eddy
Thank you for teaching my husband everything he knows about valor, strength, wisdom, supportiveness & humor…
He knows how to love his wife through your example…
I owe you a tremendous amount…
Part 1
There’s really no way to prepare for something like this…
Chapter One
It turns out Miss Agatha might have been right…
She was a self-proclaimed palm reader and the carnival’s only fortune teller. She wore the same costume that people expect to see. Her dress had fake jewels hanging from it. She had a big red scarf wrapped around her head. The hundred gold bracelets she wore on her wrists clinked together when she walked. Normally, I could hear her coming from a mile away; however, that night, she didn’t make a single sound. So I wasn’t ready when she grabbed me and read my future – just by looking at my hand.
Thinking back now on that spooky night, I have realized something – her haunted and mysterious whispers proved that my dad wasn’t always right. Life is not always one big ‘con’ where everything is sleight of hand and misdirection. Sometimes life gives a person a chance to see a little piece of their future. Sometimes life reveals a minute or two of the grand mystery – whether we’re ready for it or not.
I was six years old at most when this bizarre encounter happened. The gypsy fortune teller looked like she was a million years old. Her face was “seasoned with character lines.” This was something my Grandma Edie told me later that same night when I was telling her about old, wrinkly Miss Agatha and what happened.
My family traveled around with the carnival during the warmer months of the year. The carnival was known to me as the hunting grounds because our family business involved ‘con jobs’ of various sorts. We were gypsies and hunting marks was how we earned a living. The hunting grounds became my personal playground once the lights were off, the marks were gone and the rides were closed. We would follow a hunting ground until we either got ‘made’ by someone in authority or the season ended, whichever came first. If our family business was discovered, we would pack up and find another place to hunt. It was that simple.
Occasionally, we would stumble across another family like ours – in the same business. The dads would either strike a deal where the families would work together or one would move on. That’s the gypsy code of honor.
We had followed that particular hunting ground for over two months without being detected. I knew who Miss Agatha was; in fact, I knew everyone that worked for this carnival. In my world, fortune tellers are part of the norm. The only thing I had on my mind that night was getting to Mr. Mites’ tent to hear his tale of adventure. I was running fast between the Zipper and Enterprise rides through the carnival’s midway. It was well after midnight; all the rides were closed and no carnies were in sight.
Out of the dark, she suddenly grabbed me and I immediately started to wiggle and try to get away. My inner voice was telling me to be still and listen, but my body screamed RUN. She didn’t ease up on her death grip no matter how hard I struggled. I didn’t understand how important it would be to shut up and listen.
My inner voice is always right…
I yelled, “Let me go!” My struggles continued as my frustration grew. I was being held against my will, and I didn’t like it at all.
I looked up at her face while I tried to work my arm free. Even in broad daylight, she was spooky. She was a creepy old lady and the moonlight wasn’t helping. I wasn’t scared of her, I was just mad because she wouldn’t let go.
She turned my hand over to inspect my palm. The fortune teller was going to read my future – whether I wanted her to or not.
Whispering, she told me, “You run without a care and for now, in this fleeting moment, you are free. Yet, soon the days will come when you will see the darkest side of the sun. You and your sister are marked by the divine. You each have been chosen – not entirely of this world, yet not wholly of the others…”
She stopped talking for a few seconds and took a closer look at my palm. Then it was like she became scared about something because her eyes got big. She yanked me closer and her voice got louder.
“Listen to my words, child! Your footprints must lead her path. The steps you will take are heavy and filled with many challenges. All things rest upon your shoulders, so you must always choose wisely. Mistakes will be costly…”
I had no doubts that she would have continued with her crazy speech, but I managed to break free. I ran as fast as I could and hid in the shadows of a tent. As I struggled to catch my breath, I tried to sort through her words and make some sense of them. I just couldn’t figure them out.
My dad had drilled into me that I should listen to every word a person speaks. I had been trained to memorize them for possible use later, during our con jobs. So I stored Miss Agatha’s words in my mind. At the time, I thought I did it because that’s what was drummed into my head. Now, I’m starting to think I stored her mysterious words for another reason.
It didn’t take me very long to catch my breath. Before crawling out of the shadows, I carefully looked around and made sure no one was in sight. I decided the coast was clear and ran through the shadowy midway. Her words would be stored in my memory forever, so my mind rapidly switched gears to something more interesting – treasure!
Mr. Mites, better known as The Mountain, would be waiting for me. He was an adventurer who had valiantly fought his way through the jungles of Africa in search of oddities and riches. His show was called Wonders from the Dark Continent. After the carnival closed each night, he would open his tent up to the “children of the shadows.” That was his nickname for all the carnie kids.
He would tell us different stories about his many adventures. Then he would pull out the treasure and show us the proof that the story was real. (Sometimes I even got to hear an extra story or two because he would stop by our campsite to see my parents).
I rushed into his tent and barely made it in time to hear how the Mountain fought off two alligators while exploring an island marsh. The other five kids left after he showed us the proof – an alligator’s tooth from one and a claw he took from the other. Of course, I stayed behind because I wanted to ask him some questions about the island, the alligators, the marsh and anything else I could think of.
The Mountain was the only adult in my world that I could question – well, besides my Grandma Edie. My dad didn’t believe in free speech where kids were concerned. I had been smacked enough times to know not to ask him anything! My jobs were to listen, act, and obey – no questions allowed for any reason.
I could feel the excitement, when the Mountain motioned for me to come up on stage. He opened his treasure chest again so I could look inside. I watched as he pulled out a rare amethyst and handed it to me. He told me another story about how it was hidden by pirates and he even let me see the treasure map he used to find it.
The sun was rising when we finally left his tent. The Mountain walked with me back to my campsite. He was still talking to my parents when my Grandma Edie called me inside to go to bed. My baby sister Ember was already asleep for the night. So I tried my best to keep my voice down, but that’s easy to say and hard to do.
While I got ready for bed, I excitedly told my Grandma all about creepy Miss Agatha and my night of treasure maps and jungle adventures. My dad had been standing outside listening to my tales. He opened the camper door and sternly reminded me that I shouldn’t be ‘taken in’ by anyone’s con job. That certainly was not unusual advice, especially from him. My Grandma whispered that she loved me and winked as she agreed that pirates are real.
I fell asleep and didn’t give Miss Agatha’s words a second thought until now, seven years later. They came flooding back to me and I remembered them just like she had said them yesterday – yesterday, when the world went crazy…
I suppose if I had understood Miss Agatha’s words that night I might have been able to see this coming. Instead, I was running on the ‘gypsy fly’ – escaping from something huge with no real plan and I was hoping for the best. After all, I’m still just a teenager myself. I sighed and tried to make myself feel a little better as I stated “you can do this” over and over in my head.
So this is what the darkest side of the sun looks like...
The facts remained the same no matter what I thought or how hard I tried to encourage myself. I had no idea what I was doing or even how to do it if I did eventually figure it out. I couldn’t think of another thirteen year old boy that would have chosen this particular path. Most guys my age are into sports (playing or watching), sneaking peeks at half naked girls or trying like a fool to impress some hottie. Guys my age don’t pay much attention to anything beyond their desires.
Well, I’ve never been what one might call a typical teenage boy. This fact becomes more evident with every passing minute that I sit here on the hard-wood floor…
My life never would have been considered ‘stable’ even before my Grandma Edie died all those years ago. I’m not sure there is such a thing as a stable life. When I told my last guidance counselor this fun and interesting factoid, she got this look on her face of something between horror and anxiety. It’s very easy to read adult facial expressions unless they know how to con. Ms. Flagstaff continued to give me the “How on earth did you figure that out at your age?” look while she jotted down another long note into my student profile.
My guidance counselor had been an everyday fixture in my life at school for the last few weeks. I couldn’t even imagine what she might have been writing about me, but it didn’t matter much either way. I knew I wouldn’t be at her school much longer and my records never followed me around. The longest I had ever attended any public school was five weeks when I was in first grade. This crazy sporadic school attendance happened because we moved around constantly. During the carnival’s off-season, my parents would rent different houses and my dad would work on various con jobs. That meant I would sometimes go to school (A.K.A. Tray’s babysitter). It was used just to get me out of his hair.
The only important schooling I needed, he had already taught me. Mostly, my dad “home schooled” me and I use that term very loosely. Most children are taught to say “da-da” and “ma-ma”. My first life lesson was how to cry on demand so I could create a diversion. When most children are learning to walk, my father demanded I learn how to run lightly and pick-pocket a wallet. He skipped all those steps in-between. By the time I was three, he even taught me how to steal a watch right off a person’s arm. It turns out that small children make great thieves and are easily taught.
My dad schooled me in many things, but reading, math and science weren’t among his lessons. Most of my father’s “lessons” were etched in my mind. They were seared into my brain forever – whether I wanted them there or not.
I was well into my dad’s schooling by the time I was eight years old – that’s how old my sister Ember is right now. I only hoped all this schooling would help me figure out a plan of some kind.
There is a price to pay for every decision. Unfortunately, most people don’t understand this little chunk of wisdom until they find themselves in the middle of chaos brought on by their own actions. They look around at the commotion, slap themselves on the forehead and curse a blue streak. Stupid deeds are rarely worth the hefty price tag, but the wheel of fate has already been spun – the devil gets his pay day. I knew I would never consider my decision to run away with my baby sister stupid. I was jaded enough – even at my young age – to know that someday I would surely have to pay the devil for choosing to take off with her.
Well technically, protecting Ember couldn’t be considered a choice that I made – it was something I had to do. Our relationship is nothing like typical siblings and it never has been. For one thing, she has me wrapped around her pinky – scary but true. And two, from the minute she was placed in my arms, I was her protector.
I’m only a thirteen year old boy, but I’m the closest thing to a parent Ember has. This is especially true since my grandma passed away. My mom and dad were never into parenting, unless it was part of a con job they were running. Otherwise, all the parenting (both of myself and Ember) was left up to me. So, I’m the one that takes care of her – that will never change. The first word she ever spoke was “Tay” and she repeated it until she learned how to pronounce it the right way – less than twenty four hours later…
Most gypsies are extremely loyal to their family and live together as a band. Of course, my parents were the exception to that rule. Beyond my grandma Edie, I never met any other family member and didn’t know if we even had any. My parents were devoted to money, conning and various other things, but gypsy family loyalty wasn’t something they believed in. Unlike my mom and dad, I’m every bit a gypsy. Ember is my only family.
I have always known I needed to get her out of that situation. No way did I want her to endure the abuse I knew would be heading in her direction. Since the day my grandma died, I had been looking for a chance to escape with her. Without my grandma to stand in their way, Ember wasn’t safe from my mom and dad’s abuses anymore.
I’m big for my age. In fact, most people assume I’m in my early twenties. By the time I turned eleven, I was almost as tall as my dad. That didn’t stop him from teaching me painful lessons. I could handle his beatings and violent outbursts without too many problems. But my little sister is very tiny and fragile. One good smack from my dad and he could kill her without any real effort. So, I had spent lots of time trying to please my father and keep his focus off of Ember.
The opportunity to get her out of that abusive situation happened without giving me any warning. I didn’t have any plan together or anything. It just came down to simple survival. Everything in my life was now about that basic instinct that sleeps quietly until necessity wakes it up with a vengeance. I didn’t know where we were going or where we would wind up. For better or worse, I grabbed the money, my little sister and we ran!
So, there I was sitting on the cold, hard floor in an abandoned farmhouse. It was out in the middle of nowhere USA. Ember was curled up in the fetal position with my jacket carefully tucked around her. I had no clue where our mom and dad might be and I really didn’t care. I only hoped they would never find us – if they somehow managed to survive, that is. I also had no idea what happened back at the house on Big Whiskey Lane.
I had this strange eerie sense of impending doom when I came home from school yesterday. The dark thoughts had raced through my mind and made me shiver. It’s the creepy feeling of knowing the danger’s there, but not where it’s hiding.
The day had started out like any other. Maybe that’s what made the events of that afternoon so unbelievable and outrageous. I certainly wasn’t prepared for what I saw when I walked through the kitchen door.
There’s really no way to prepare for something like this…
Chapter Two
I felt it the second I stepped off the bus, that horrible feeling of dread. Our house looked normal from the outside – well, as normal as the day we moved in. The paint was virtually nonexistent, the concrete steps were cracked and the carport was caved in on one side. The heavy, ragged plastic that had been taped up to ‘fix’ the broken window was blowing like a battered flag. The house was definitely a dump. The outside didn’t even give a hint about what the real problem was, but I knew something was wrong – very wrong.
The bus was long gone when I looked up the street. I surveyed the neighborhood, but I saw absolutely nothing. My blood turned to ice as I was suddenly chilled to the bone. The world had apparently stopped spinning. I didn’t hear a single dog bark, no children were playing and no breeze was blowing. I saw no other living thing anywhere at all. The only way I could describe it is the way it feels right before a terrible storm – calm and eerily quiet.
I was filled with a sense of alarm as I turned into a statue in my driveway. I was frozen, right along with the rest of the world. I tried to force my fingers to move, but they refused. I was stuck in a time warp. Then, my vision did something crazy. It seemed to fog up around the edges and the world narrowed into a hazy tunnel. I would have been intrigued by the mystery of it, if I weren’t stuck in suspended animation.
My thoughts clouded over with darkness. I became terrified as an inky black fog started to surround me. It felt like I was being hypnotized – lulled into some type of weird, twisted dream. Near the edge of the fog bank I saw, animals…no…a ‘dark being’ of some kind. It began to take shape and form. It reminded me of a haunted, wicked entity like I had seen in a horror movie. I considered shouting something, but my voice had become as useless as the rest of my body.
The dark entity grew into one tremendous being. It had four different heads and what looked like the body of a dragon. I watched in freaky awe as the talons formed into sharp, black razors. The huge being arched its back and took flight. It was hovering at least twenty feet over our roof and was preparing to strike.
I could tell that the dark entity was getting ready to attack, but I didn’t see anything for it to fight with. Of course, I was stuck in one place so I couldn’t scope out the area.
The silence became deadly…
Then, I saw another ‘entity’ start to form…a light…an image. It appeared from out of nowhere, just like the dark entity. My eyes struggled to focus on the newly forming image. The dark entity headed toward the ground like a rocket. It attacked its newly forming enemy.
The epic battle was being fought in front of my eyes. It took a few seconds before I finally realized what the dark entity was fighting – a being of light. The blazing light entity was definitely winning the war. It was penetrating and slashing the dark entity to shreds. The dark entity was twisting and desperately trying to defeat the blinding light, but it was getting blocked at each turn. Every time the dark entity would do something to get the upper-hand, the light entity would stop it.
There I stood, still a fixture – Traywick Shane Pateman, the great human statue. I watched in helpless fascination, as my eyes were being blinded by the light entity. The dark entity bellowed in rage. The noise was so loud that it sliced through my ear drums and thundered around inside of my mind. My ears started to trickle blood. I felt the warm blood spill, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it! I saw a zillion sunbursts as the light assaulted my eyes.
The dark entity had been torn to shreds by the light. The remaining pieces were uselessly attempting to reassemble into some type of a fighting form. The shreds of darkness whipped and swirled together into a frenzied storm! The wind howled in response and its outrageous wail climbed to a high-pitched, endless shriek.
I was still stuck to the ground when suddenly something seemed to snap loose inside my body. I thought it might be an internal organ being torn in half. Then, I felt it being ripped away from me! The missing part of me streaked toward the house and sailed through the wall. It must have landed somewhere inside, but I had no idea where. I was terrified! I tried to decide if my brain had just fractured – that just had to be a mind trick, right?! I would have squeezed my skull between my hands to check for damage, but I still couldn’t move. Instead I performed a quick mental inventory. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was still breathing and I figured that had to be a good sign…
Then I remembered something critical. My mind cleared for a brief second as one word rocketed through it…
Ember…
I still couldn’t move my body, but my mind screamed my sister’s name hysterically. Although I didn’t know what was going on outside, I somehow knew that danger lurked through the doorway of our house.
My sister’s not allowed to go to school or anywhere for that matter! She has to be inside with the unknown monster! EMBER, EMBER, EEEMMMMBBBEEEERRRRR…….
Her name continued to echo through my brain as I urgently attempted to force my feet to move. My body refused to cooperate.
The dark shreds eventually gathered into some kind of form. The dark entity made one last attempt to fight the light entity and destroy it. The light would not be defeated. A brilliant beam drew the battle up toward the sky. The evil howls doubled in intensity as the light entity consumed the dark entity. The final black shred was absorbed into the center of the brilliant light storm.
For one flicker of a second, the sky lit up like it had been hit with a nuclear bomb! It reminded me of one of those supernovas that I had seen in science class. Every color of the rainbow bathed the entire landscape. I felt the colors as they burned my eyes, but I had no way to look away from them.
The sky returned to a normal shade of blue as the earth righted itself again. Well, almost everything around me returned to normal. My shrieking brain and frozen body remained…
“EMBER…” I managed to force her name from my lips eventually and my invisible chains released me at the same time.
As I ran like a wild person toward the kitchen door, I was single minded toward my goal – an urgent pressing need. I could not think about the dark entity that had just been destroyed or the blinding light being that killed it. My own injuries or what might be behind that door just waiting to attack me would be forgotten too. I was running on blind instinct – it would have to do…
The door knob vibrated with a strange energy. I yanked my hand away from it at first – it was a reflex reaction. I pulled my shirt sleeve over my hand because I didn’t want to risk getting fried or zapped with electricity. The metal seemed to be surrounded with a bizarre, unearthly power. I could still feel it as it vibrated through the fabric. Panic overwhelmed me as I pushed the door open, but I forced myself to walk inside slowly.
She might be in the kitchen…I don’t want to scare her…
I wanted to break down the door, rush inside and yell for her like a crazed madman because I was terrified for her safety! I somehow fought that insane compulsion as I pushed the door open quietly and deliberately. What I found behind that door would haunt me for the rest of my life…
The scene I was looking at was something out of a nightmare…it was impossible…it couldn’t be happening…but it was…
Every last item, not physically attached to something, was scattered across the kitchen floor or suspended from the ceiling. All the pots and the dishes were destroyed. The plastic cups that were in the dish drainer that morning were shattered like they had been made of fragile crystal. Green slime was splattered across the walls. The room was filled with thick, nasty smelling smoke. My eyes watered from the stench and I started to cough.
The microwave and the toaster were on the floor, near my feet. They were going haywire. Sparks were flying in every direction. It sounded like a maddening electrical symphony. I felt like I was losing my mind. The crazy, spark shooting appliances weren’t even plugged into electrical outlets!
I looked at the scene in awestruck wonder until I saw something horrifying. My heart pounded in my chest when I saw that the knives and silverware were buried to their hilts in the doorways and the walls! My thoughts raced around in crazy circles as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
Of course, that is never going to happen because toasters can’t make sparks without electricity!
I still don’t know how long I stood and stared at all the craziness in that kitchen. It could have been minutes or hours. Once I saw those buried knives, I remembered my urgent need to find Ember.
Waving as I tried to clear a path, I lowered myself to the floor. I was hoping to be able to see clearer. My eyes continued to water from the smoke as I looked around for her.
The house could collapse at any moment and crush me to death. I wasn’t worried about whether I would get killed though – my only concern was for my baby sister. Terror threatened to consume me as I noticed streaks of blood and what I thought might be bits of flesh on the splintered dining room chairs. I struggled to regain some control over my panicked state.
“Ember…Ember…EMBER…” I managed to choke out her name in between the coughing and gagging.
I saw everything and nothing all at once. It looked like everything inside the main part of the house had been destroyed.
Just when I thought I would go over the edge, I finally saw my sister’s small body crouched in the far corner of the living room. Ember’s unblinking eyes were wide open, but they had this vague and empty look.
It was like she had been robbed of her soul…
There’s no way to explain how I felt because the word ‘terror’ didn’t even come close to describing the feeling. She looked empty and hollow. I had to forcibly shove that thought out of my mind or I would have started shouting like a lunatic. I had to get my sister out of this house and to safety.
The stupid smoke picked that exact moment to cloud my vision. I could barely see her; and I couldn’t even tell whether or not she was breathing.
Please let her be okay!
My instincts told me to approach her with tremendous care. So I crawled slowly in her direction and held my breath in anticipation. I inched my way toward her frozen form until I was close enough to see her breathing. I knew my sister would most likely be damaged. Relief washed over me as I realized that she was at least still alive. I quickly thanked heaven.
“Hey little girl,” I stated softly and reached out my hand in her direction.
Her eyes remained empty and haunted, and she didn’t say a single word. She didn’t even blink in response to me. This terrified me all over again.
“Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here. It’s not safe to be inside this house anymore.”
I had no clue how I managed to sound cool and calm because I felt a crushing need to shout in the middle of the chaos. The stress needed to be released. Ember still didn’t respond so I inched a little closer and watched her for any further signs of life. I felt the madness as it started to rise in my throat. I had to resist the urge to let that sound escape from my lips. It probably would have frightened me just as much as it would her.
“It’s okay. Ember, everything’s fine, just fine. We need to leave now. It’s all gonna be alright, I promise,” I soothed her the best way I knew how and hoped it would be enough.
I expected her to reach out and acknowledge me in some way because she ALWAYS does. She looked through me as if I weren’t even there. I stopped talking and tried to think of something I could do to make her return from her dark hiding place.
I need to find her soul somehow…I don’t know where to start looking…
After another few minutes of terrible silence, Ember gradually lifted her arm and wordlessly pointed toward the opposite side of the living room. My sister still had that vacant stare like she was looking through me.
I would have been lying if I said I wanted to look at what she was pointing at! I had no clue what kind of nightmare lurked behind me!? And would that nightmare rip us both to shreds, if I looked in its direction!?
All I wanted to do was grab her, and run away as fast as possible. I needed to take her and leave this house of horrors behind us. I also didn’t want to take my eyes off of her until we were safely outside. I have never been able to deny her anything and I wasn’t going to start now. So I reached out and held her tiny hand as I surrendered to her wishes. I turned around cautiously to find out what she was pointing at.
I blinked several times in total shock and disbelief. My mind tried to wrap itself around, yet another impossibility. In the corner where a chair used to be was a small mountain of cash! It would have been a fortune, because from what I could see, the bills were 50’s and 100’s. Unfortunately, the money was all going up in flames by the time my brain caught up with my eyes.
Of course, the fire matched all the other loony things in the house. The bills were engulfed in purple colored flames and the smoke that was rising was gold instead of gray. I couldn’t seem to react to put it out either…can a purple fire even be extinguished?!
I wouldn’t have much time to consider it because something insane happened and my question got answered.
The purple fire started to die down even though nothing was there to put it out!
All the purple flames suddenly vanished and the shimmery gold smoke disappeared too. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. But my reality didn’t change at all.
I was staring at a huge pile of unharmed cash. All the bills were perfectly fine…
Chapter Three
I managed to shift my body a little bit, but it didn’t help much. I had been in this same awkward position for hours. I didn’t want to risk waking Ember up, so I would just have to suffer and stay still. We had been walking for nearly thirty hours and our only stops had been for food and bathroom breaks. Otherwise, we had kept moving.
After discovering this abandoned farmhouse, Ember had still stayed awake for a long time. She stared into nothingness and didn’t make a sound. Eventually, she rolled over on her back, so she could look up at my face. That was the first sign of awareness she had given to me since being on the run. I managed to keep my expression “gypsy neutral” although I don’t know how I did it. I was so excited because I thought maybe she was going to come back to me at some point.
We would stare and study each other’s eyes for countless minutes. It was something we had always done throughout her life. Even as a newborn, she would stare into my eyes every chance I gave her. Now her wide blue eyes seemed to be offering me something – maybe like a deep, dark secret. I searched her eyes, and thought I might have seen a flicker of her spirit behind them.
I believe that Ember can look beyond what other people see…
Her head was propped against my chest and she eventually placed her hand over my heart. This is also something she’s done her whole life too. I think it makes her feel safe. She finally fell into a peaceful sleep. As I sat watching her, I briefly wondered what happened to our parents. Maybe they were struck by some flying object in the house, or shocked and torched to ashes by the toaster.
Those dark thoughts made me smile...
My only hope was that if they did somehow survived what happened on Big Whiskey Lane, they would never come looking for us.
I shoved the thoughts of my parents aside because they are now a thing of the past. My mind turned to the future and our seemingly endless options. The silence was making me crazy and I had no idea what time it was. I had left my watch in the chaos that was my bedroom. I could have kicked myself for not getting it before we bolted from the scene. It would be nice to know the time.
A tree branch scratched against the side of the house, making a creepy noise. I closed my eyes then because my thoughts were racing and my pulse was pounding. We needed a better place to stay and transportation – thanks to my overstuffed duffle bag at least we could afford it.
I didn’t feel tired as I worked through my choices – or at least I thought I wasn’t. As my vision started to get hazy and my thoughts were drifting around, I wondered how long a guy could go without sleep. It felt great to think about something ordinary – like how to never sleep again…
Chapter Four
I was jolted awake by the ‘dark being’ eating me alive…
I thought I might have screamed out in terror, but I wasn’t sure. The dream had been so real. As my mind became more alert, the dream started to slip away from my memory. Although I felt like it would be important to remember the details from that nightmare, the dream was fading fast. I tried to hold onto it, but that would be wasted effort. It slid beneath the surface of my awareness – lost forever.
I reached out for Ember, but she wasn’t there. I made some frantic move in an effort to get to my feet. I desperately needed to find her! My body felt bolted to the floor like it was stuck chest deep in cement. I must have stayed in this same awkward position the entire night.
The panic started to rise as I quickly scanned the room. It took a few seconds, but I finally saw her. She was sitting on the rickety ledge of the window sill and staring through the cracked window pane into the bright sunshine.
“Morning little girl, whatcha doing?”
I tried to sound casual, like we did this every night of our lives. Ember didn’t respond to my question. She continued to sit motionless. I tried to hide my disappointment, realizing I possibly could have been wrong last night when I thought she might come back to me. She hadn’t said one word since we had been on the run. I didn’t much blame her for retreating into silence after all the insanity of the past few days.
My sister had never been this quiet or still in her entire life and I was starting to worry. I watched her closely, but she didn’t move an inch. So I tried my best to hide my concern and decided to act like everything was normal.
I really miss the light of her spirit shining through her blue eyes…
I knew we weren’t going to spend another night in this creepy old farmhouse. All I knew is that I wanted to get us out of here. So with my legs still asleep, I walked over to Ember and stood beside her at the window. I promised her that we would find a much nicer place to stay – a place with a bed. Then I reminded her that everything would be fine. I knew I could keep the first promise; I was still praying that I could keep the second.
My army duffle bag felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I took Ember’s hand in mine. I opened the front door and we stepped out into our future.
Whatever that might be…
Part 2
There is a price to pay for every decision made…
And the devil always gets paid…
Chapter One
This particular move was very different from the previous ones over the years. Tray had come home early from his part time job as a mechanic and informed me that we were leaving Chicago, immediately. I didn’t ask him where we were going or why we needed to leave. Thirty minutes later, we were already on the road and headed south. It was unusual for Tray to be the one to decide that we needed to relocate. Our moves were generally my idea.
We had moved so many times over the last seven years that I couldn’t even count them anymore. The longest we had ever attended any school was six weeks. A certain, small part of our wandering lifestyle came from being gypsies and the need for the freedom of the open road.
I had always been able to sense things, even when I was little. When Tray ran away with me, my ‘sixth sense’ developed rapidly. So, most of our relocations were based on that. The pattern would always begin the same way, as an uneasy feeling inside my spirit. I could sense an ‘evil’ lurking somewhere in the shadows, preparing to strike and destroy us. When this internal warning sounded, I would announce that it was time to move on.
Tray had never once hesitated to comply with my request or asked me a single question. We would simply pack up and leave. So when he announced it was time to move now, I didn’t question him about the decision.
When I opened my eyes, it was still dark outside. Sitting in our well-traveled station wagon, I found myself staring at the roof of the car just like I had done a million times before. The fabric had the same holes, rips and stains that were comforting to me. That old, frayed roof was like a security blanket.
Tray looked exhausted as he gripped the steering wheel and stared at the winding dirt road ahead. It was almost four in the morning. Experience tells me, he will not stop unless it is for my benefit.
I was worried that he had chosen some destination in central Florida to move us to. That could mean we would be traveling for another ten hours. He would ignore his own needs if he was focused on getting to a destination. Whatever had prompted him to leave Illinois so quickly still had him in a panic. So, if I wanted him to pull over, I would have to suggest it as something I needed. Otherwise, he would continue to fight off sleep and keep on driving.
“Morning,” I finally whispered.
“Sure is,” Tray responded with a small laugh.
“That wasn’t supposed to be an observation ya’ know. It was meant to be a greeting. How long was I out this time?” I questioned him.
“Probably just two or three hours...” Tray hedged.
“I’m sure it was more like seven or eight, but thanks for not making me feel bad about bailing on you. I haven’t been sleeping very well with all the nightmares I’ve been having…”
Revealing this fact only out of necessity, I really hated being forced into sharing it with him. Tray had spent his life protecting me, taking care of me and providing for me – like any good parent would for their child. He also worries about me constantly. So, adding this concern on top of everything else, made me feel guilty. It hurt my heart to see his brow crease as he processed this newly discovered information.
He needs to stop and sleep in a bed. This was the only plan I could formulate on such short notice.
Even feeling guilty, I figured my gypsy con might just work…
“How long have you been having them? When did they start, exactly? Why haven’t you said anything about them before now, Ember?! Did something happen to you at school that you're not telling me about?!” Tray fired his questions without waiting for an answer.
He tends to turn into an inquisitor when he gets nervous or upset. I’m not sure if it makes him feel better or worse, but this routine was what he always falls back on in times of stress and crisis. Five minutes later, I managed one interruption.
“I’ve been having nightmares for the past few weeks or so...”
“I wish that you would’ve told me that you were having bad dreams. Maybe I could’ve done something to make you feel better…”
“That’s an interesting concept. What, precisely, do you think you could’ve done about them?” I forced in my question before he could resume his inquest.
His brow creased deeper as he realized I was right. There was no way for him to stop my nightmares.
“Don’t worry about it too much. They don’t happen every night…” I said – now it was my turn to hedge.
My brother continued to drive with a troubled look clouding his face. His endless silence and concerned expression made me feel so guilty that I wanted to blurt out something like “I was just joking around.” The fact is I wasn’t joking about having nightmares – I would never outright lie to him. I had already revealed the information, so I decided to continue forward with my plan.
“Actually, I think sleeping with you nearby would help me feel safe and keep the nightmares away…”
Tray remained silent as he stared into the distance. The worry line was creased firmly into his brow. In order to keep myself quiet I reached over and turned on the radio to distract myself. If I didn’t, I would keep on talking. He needs time to process what I said and shutting up doesn’t come naturally to me.
I scanned the stations until I heard a familiar song playing. Then, I closed my eyes and got lost inside the music. I would wait on him to decide if we were going to keep traveling or stop at a motel.
My statement about not having bad dreams every night wasn’t exactly a lie because some nights I was too frightened to go to sleep. So technically, my words would be considered more like a ‘creative-Emberism’. I had become fairly inventive when it comes to rationalizations since my life is full of unusual choices and interesting (although mischievous) adventures. I had to be good at excuses since I always seemed to find myself in middle of something fascinating.
Trouble never has to come looking for me…
I thought about my nightmares and started to shiver. I wrapped our blue blanket around me and hoped my brother wouldn’t notice. I had at least two nightmares every night and they would terrify me. I would wake up with the feeling of doom on the horizon. Demons hunted me endlessly in my dreams.
The song ended and I opened my eyes. The starless night made it almost impossible to see anything. We were currently traveling on the back roads. I knew we were surrounded by mountains because the road had sharp, winding curves.
The early September landscape must be beautiful this time of year with the leaves changing. I squinted, but that didn’t help me see them. The trees were still shrouded in inky shadows. So I tried by sheer force of my will to make the sun rise on my command – of course, nothing happened.
I looked around the interior of the car in order to find another distraction – something else to think about. My ‘memory box’ was on the floorboard between my feet. I smiled to myself when I thought about its contents. It’s strange how certain small items can carry so much sentimental value. My old hat box full of little mementos was always with me every time we moved. It held bits and pieces of me. They represented parts of my life and those were memories I intend to keep. Occasionally, I would lose chunks of time and my memories would fail to stay within my reach. I had always been preoccupied – even when I was young.
My inattentive nature doesn’t usually lend itself to helping me keep my cherished memories – only a few select ones seem to be intact. Sadly, my endlessly wandering mind doesn’t always block out the bad memories either.
Everyone should have the luxury of being able to erase a memory or two…
My thoughts churned when my mind returned to the demons in my dreams. It took some major effort, but I finally forced the evil away.
I looked at my brother and tried to interpret his facial expression. It appeared to be blank in my estimation. Of course, I have come to understand that I really stink at reading people. That thought was very ironic considering the fact that I’m a gypsy. Gypsies are supposed to be excellent con artists. Those ‘gypsy skills’ are not among my talents yet although I hope they will be someday. I am praying they will eventually develop like some dormant inborn ability. Maybe, I will just wake up one morning and discover I have them.
Tray doesn’t discuss our heritage with me. He has never offered to teach me any gypsy tricks or cons. So if I don’t wake up with those skills like I am hoping for, then I plan to pout and plead until he teaches me.
Tray and I could never be considered normal or average like other people our age. It took years of moving and being on our own before I realized that fact. We are very different from other gypsies and everyone else on the planet for that matter.
Traditional gypsies take care of their own kind. Normally, Tray and I would have joined another traveling band after we ran away. My brother never considered it to my knowledge. In my world, it has always been just me and Tray. He is a combination of my parent, protector and hero. His life has been spent taking care of me. He was forced to grow up fast because of this.
I sometimes wonder if it is regret that swirls behind his ocean-colored eyes. That thought felt like the blade of a sharp knife being twisted deep in my heart and fracturing my spirit. Fighting back the resulting tears, I shoved the thought away as quickly as I could.
Darkness has a way of warping the very best of things and shrouding the soul...
The many trials in my life have left me altered forever. I’m not jaded, just different. Fifteen year old girls usually giggle and are filled with idealistic hope. I have never giggled once to my knowledge and idealistic hope is unrealistic – a foreign concept to me. Sometimes I feel so much older than I am.
I look deeper into the night and wish for something…
Tray eventually turned right onto a paved road. The state sign posted up ahead read that we were only six miles from the highway.
Woo-hoo I may have pulled off my gypsy con! If he stops, then Ember-girl, you really are the freakin’ STUFF!
I started to get excited when my brother exited onto a ramp with lodging. I didn’t feel quite so guilty anymore. We passed by two large chain motels before he pulled into a privately owned one called the Mountaineer Motor Lodge.
We live life on the gypsy down low. This means we keep to ourselves and out of the spotlight at all times. So Tray would only choose a chain motel as a last resort. The reasons behind this choice were few, but vital, if we hoped to remain unnoticed – not to mention out of the hands of social workers and other authority figures.
Hotel chains have security cameras, ask for a credit card and look suspiciously at two young people traveling together with no adult in sight. So we usually selected small, obscure motels and motor courts. These places are never concerned with who you are – just how green your cash is.
The Mountaineer Motor Lodge looked like a bunch of tiny log cabins all stuck together and situated around an outdoor pool. The owner switched on the light in the lobby when Tray pressed the after-hour’s buzzer.
Mr. Bartlett was wearing a washed out robe when he walked out to greet us. His gray hair was tousled with a serious case of ‘bed-head.’ He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he pulled out the paperwork. Just as I expected, he didn’t ask us any questions or pay us a sideway’s glance as he exchanged the key to the room for our money. Tray apologized for waking him up and then asked him what time we needed to check out before we left the small lobby.
“Son, whenever your eyes decide to open and you wanna leave – that’s your check out time,” the owner stated with a smile.
I felt tears threatening to spill again for the second time that night.
Never underestimate a kindness…
We could barely read the faded number on the worn key tag. Once we stepped inside the room, Tray double locked the door and folded over the extra security latch at the top. Then, he moved his bed and shoved it against the door. He had performed this same motel door security ritual for years. I found comfort in the gesture.
My brother is the lightest sleeper on the planet. If someone walked by our motel room outside, he would be on his feet and fully alert in less than ten seconds. So he requested a room at the far end of the motel. His exhaustion was obvious because he didn’t even take off his shoes or get underneath the covers. I think he fell asleep before his head touched the pillow.
I was still sleepy too, but my desperate need for a shower ruled my thoughts. Long car rides made me feel sticky. It is a well known fact that I have always hated being dirty or sweaty. I had a ‘we’re moving right this instant’ bag with everything I need for two days on the road. Tray taught me to always be prepared to leave on a moment’s notice.
Pulling two bath towels and a wash cloth off the rack, I stepped into a very hot shower. I thought about the two friends I had to leave behind in Chicago.
Once we move, we never look back. We have never even stayed in the same city twice.
This relocation would be a little harder because I had made two friends – something I had never done before. Tray had decided at our last school that I needed to come out of my shell through any means necessary. He can be really annoying when he wants me to do something I would not normally choose to do. Even after assuring him I was content living inside my own world (reading, listening to music and talking to him), he said it was time to join everyone else. Relentless in this pursuit, he claims to know what’s best.
It’s irritating when he pulls his ‘parental-card’ and uses it against me…
His mind was made up. So I slipped out of my own world, with his assistance, and made two friends named Garrett and Emily. I even managed to get one picture of them together and it’s stored in my memory box. At least, I wouldn’t lose them to the sands of ‘Ember-time’ entirely.
The bathroom was hot and steamy by the time I turned off the water. I used one towel to dry my body and wrapped the other one around my drenched hair.
I dressed in two tank tops, a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants along with socks, to sleep in. I wear layers of clothing, day and night – I have an obsession with modesty too. Slipping underneath the covers, this must be heaven for sure…
Neither of us woke up until late in the afternoon. I was amazed that I had fallen asleep so quickly and astounded that my sleep was dreamless. It appears that my brother might be able to keep me safe from the demons in my dreams…
“Wakey, wakey sleepin’ beauty…or maybe I should call you Rip Van Winkle instead– hmmm I dunno which is better…” Tray said with a genuine laugh.
I pulled a pillow out from underneath my head and threw it at him. Of course, he dodged my pillow attack and continued to enjoy his joke. I buried my head under my one remaining pillow and tried to make my brother believe that he was irritating me. I probably didn’t fool him because he knew that I loved to hear his laughter. In fact, I could lie here all day long and just listen to it.
“Alright, alright you win! I admit it – I’ve only been up for a few minutes. It’s nice to watch you sleep in for a change,” Tray stated.
“Whaddya mean ‘for a change’? You watch me sleep all the flippin’ time,” I replied then I removed the pillow from my face and rolled my eyes at him for effect.
“Oh yeah, by the way, thanks for leaving me a clean towel to dry off with after my shower. That was very sweet and sisterly of ya’…” my brother said, dramatically.
I listened to the playful sarcasm and realized that I had used the only two bath towels last night. As big as he is, a hand towel would never work. It’s barely big enough for his hand. I couldn’t suppress my laughter anymore.
“Yeah, yeah very freakin’ funny,” Tray stated in a serious tone, but even with all his gypsy skills, he could barely keep a straight face.
Tray is huge – I don’t mean fat, I mean HUGE – like a linebacker that lifts weights constantly. He is at least 6’3” with a strong, muscular build. He usually keeps a tan year round and has ocean colored eyes. At least I think they are because I have never been to the ocean to prove it. His hair is black just like a raven’s feathers.
My brother is extremely handsome. That’s a fact I can prove because I recently watched a girl walk into the side of a brick building while she was checking him out. I tried to yell at her to pay attention, but it was already too late. Tray turned around instantly when he heard me gasp in shock. He discovered what was wrong and ran over to the girl to make sure she was okay. The girl couldn’t seem to find her voice when he helped her back up to her feet. She did manage to nod, blush and smile at him though.
I explained what I witnessed once we were in our car headed home. Tray looked at me like I was being silly as I told him why she ran into a building. He didn’t say anything, just shook his head in wonder.
Mine and Tray’s facial features are an uncanny match for each other, but the similarities stop there. I am barely 5’4” and weigh an impressive 85 pounds. I have light brown hair that turns almost blonde in the summer and light blue eyes. It is very entertaining to watch people’s reactions when they see us together for the first time. It is indisputable that we are related to each other, but nothing could compete with the mere size of my brother – the incredible handsome giant.
We were in a small city in Western North Carolina. The surrounding mountains were more breathtaking than I could have ever imagined. I tried to contain my excitement when Tray told me that he thought we might stay here for a while.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-27 show above.)