A Shadow's Light BK 2 (14 page)

“I’m sorry for all that you’ve had to go through, I really am, but that doesn’t change much.” James’s voice had grown more even and monotone. “Alyssa, what do you want me to tell your Uncle?” His eyes remained on Test.

Alyssa gasped. She hadn’t thought this far into the future. What could she say? “Are you leaving?” she asked as she swallowed heavily.

He looked to her calmly and replied. “Yes.”

Test, suddenly becoming anxious, put on the shirt. “What are you going to do, James?” he asked.

A sideways grin appeared on James’s face as he looked to the carnage that was his truck. “I’m going to walk. I suppose I’ll have plenty of time to think about things.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” replied James as he thrust his hands into his pockets. While his voice was calm, the intent was clear and burned fiercely in his eyes.

Test responded with a silent nod of his head and a deep breath. He watched as James turned for the road and began to walk away. “James,” he called loudly. “I am truly sorry.”

James stopped, but didn’t turn. “So am I,” he replied somberly. Without looking back, he continued to walk down the road and disappeared behind the trees.

Alyssa and Test stared in silence at the spot where James had disappeared. The sun was now high over head and shining down upon them in fragments separated by the swiftly passing clouds. The wind had increased since the morning, sending the trees into a steady and constant whir of noise and movement. The entire mood of the forest had changed.

Still grasping Test’s hand tightly, Alyssa gave it a gentle squeeze. “Now what?” she asked cautiously.

Test released her hand and took a couple of steps away from her. “I’ve been here before.” He glanced back over his shoulder with a pained look washed over his face. “I don’t know that it’s wise for you to stay with me.”

She sprinted to his side, and gripping his shoulder, turned him to face her. “What are you talking about
?
I thought we talked about this?” she asked.

“You can’t understand what this is about to become.” He spoke calmly yet with a firmness that accented his point. “You have a family, people that count on you. How could I let you leave them? And for what…me?”

She grabbed his chin and pinched forcefully. Everything within her told her to get out of this situation, everything but her heart. She had known that he was the one for her since the first time that she’d seen him. She had never been able to have a relationship; unwilling, because of her gifts, to risk rejection or being ridiculed. She had now found great comfort in the fact that she didn’t have to hide, at least not from him.

“What if I told you that you didn’t have a choice?” She had suddenly become coy. “What if I said that
I
was counting on
you
?”

Test chuckled with annoyed amusement. “You can’t be serious,” he replied.

Alyssa’s face flashed hotly with anger as she gripped him with both hands by the collar of his shirt. “
You listen to me,”
she shouted
.
“I am a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions. If you can’t deal with the fact that I’ve fallen in love with you, and that I would be willing to give up everything for you, then maybe you should add lonely to your so called ‘destined’ tragic and hopeless life!
”

Her voice seemed to echo on the wind. The drama was so thick that he could barely breathe, but it was real. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he felt the same way.

She lessened the grip on his shirt and began to speak softly. “You set me free. I have never been able to…to be me, not with anyone.” She released her grip and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her cheek into his chest. “You are the one I’ve been waiting for all of my life. I need you.”

Her words sent Test’s heart to beat at a frantic pace, and he could feel the rush of heat surging through his veins.
She needs me?
he thought to himself. He had never heard anyone speak those words to him. He began to think about the first weeks after he’d left Lincoln; how hopeless and alone he had become. The pain of that time had never strayed far from his mind, but this moment had brought it back with vigorous intensity. The thought of having to leave was almost beyond comprehension, but the thought of leaving alone was impossible.

“I need you too,” he whispered softly as he exhaled. He let his rigid frame relax and took her into his arms; burying his lips into her hair and kissing the top of her head tenderly. “This is going to be comp…” he began.

Quickly she interrupted. “Shut up.” Her voice was exhausted and monotone as she squeezed him tighter. “Don’t say anything. Just hold me.”

Chapter 16

Julie sat silently on the couch. It was now dusk and she hadn’t slept since being awakened by the phone call in the middle of the night. Inside her house were half a dozen men wearing black, tight fitting t-shirts and heavily pocketed vests, all of whom wore ear pieces and spoke in a way that intimidated her. One man stood out in particular. He had identified himself as Agent Dawson. He was a menacing looking man, with an impressive physique and perfectly styled hair. He stared at everyone blankly through yellow tinted glasses and with a chiseled stone face that gave no hint of emotion.

Enrique had been sitting at the kitchen table, a cell phone in one hand and a glass of tea in the other, for hours. Upon learning that Chance was wanted in another state for murder, he was overcome with disbelief, disappointment, and grief. He had been desperately waiting for Alyssa to call. She was his god daughter and he felt responsible for placing her in this situation. He struggled with believing that Chance could have actually done that of which he was accused. He had come to see him as a gift; a second chance to guide the son that he’d lost years before. A world of confusion had now come to settle in his mind, and no one was giving him any information to resolve it.

“Enrique?’ Julie asked.

He gave her no response, instead continuing to stare blankly at the wall.

“Honey?” She laid her hand on his shoulder and was startled as he jumped side ways in his chair. Bags had formed under his dark brown eyes like shadows from a mid-day sun.

Julie looked over her shoulder and back to the living room before speaking. “I can’t make out everything, but I keep hearing them talking about some kind of test.”

With a wrinkled nose, Enrique questioned. “A test?”

Like a ghost, Agent Dawson suddenly appeared from the next room. “I sincerely hope that you are not withholding information, Mr. Franco.”

Surprised, Enrique quickly jumped to his feet and turned to the agent. “What are you talking about?” he asked, genuinely confused. “What’s this about a test?”

The agent removed his glasses and leaned into Enrique, placing his nose only an inch or so away from his face. “
You
tell
me
, Mr. Franco. What do you know about Mr. Davis?”

Enrique winced in confusion. “Who in the hell is Mr. Davis?” He briefly looked to Julie as she sat dumbfounded in her seat. The frustration had worn on him and he had begun to run out of patience. He turned back to Dawson, his voice booming through the house. “You aren’t making any damned sense to me at all.”

“You are honestly telling me that you have no idea that the young man you know as Chance Johnston is actually Test Davis?” Dawson stood over Enrique menacingly. Though Enrique was much more muscular than and twice as wide as the agent, Dawson stood a good six inches taller.

Enrique’s mind stumbled to process the information that was just given to him.
Test Davis
he thought to himself. He somehow knew the name, but couldn’t fit it.

“Oh my God!” yelled Julie in a fit of recognition. “Are you saying that Chance is actually that boy with the powers; the one that killed his own mother last year in Nebraska?” She stood quickly, her thigh bumping the table causing Enrique’s tea to spill.

Agent Dawson grinned, seemingly pleased with Julie’s unrest. “That is correct, Mrs. Franco. That is
exactly
what I’m saying.”

Enrique plopped into his chair. The spark of anger had left him and in its place sat a deflated human being. His dark complexion had turned a couple of shades lighter.

“Dear Lord ...Alyssa. What have I done?” He looked up to the agent nearly in tears.

“I sympathize with your situation, Mr. Franco. Really, I do.” Dawson’s demeanor had suddenly softened. “That’s why it is so important for you to share everything that you know with us.”

Enrique nodded his head in agreement. “The cabins,” he began. “I had my foreman go and check the cabins that we have completed recently. Chance …” he paused. “That kid knows all of them.”

Dawson quickly turned and silently signaled to the agents in the other room. The room burst into a flurry of activity as each of the men checked their weapons.

“You did the right thing, Mr. Franco,” said Dawson as he held his cell phone to his ear. “Sergeant Gibbs,” he spoke commandingly into the phone. “All units on the ready. Location of target narrowed. Be advised it is believed target is in difficult terrain.”

Julie watched as her rock solid husband began to break down. His body was overcome with tremors; sweat streaming from every pore in his skin.

“This can’t be happening, can it?” he asked his wife weakly.

Julie stood behind her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck. “She’ll be fine, honey. I know in my heart that she’ll be fine.”

Behind them the front door opened. Julie turned to see who was coming or going.

“Oh my God! James!”

Enrique burst from his chair and turned to see James standing in the doorway. He stepped into the home resembling a zombie; arms draped limply to his side, head angled to the right, and his hair standing in all directions. As he looked up to Enrique, his blood red eyes seemed to blaze in the light of the room.

“No!” yelled Enrique as he took a couple of quick steps towards James. Before he could reach him, he was abruptly stopped by an agent.

Dawson walked confidently to James. “Where is he?”

James’s face appeared as if he were a lost child in the middle of an amusement park. With a look of shame, he looked around agent Dawson to Enrique and waited for direction.

“Tell him, James! For God’s sake, tell him where to find Alyssa!” yelled Enrique.

James’s stare remained blank. He stammered for a moment, his words inaudible to the rest of the room, and then he answered the agent while staring at Enrique. “Number two.” He looked back to Agent Dawson. “They’re at site number two.”

Dawson quickly turned to Enrique. “I need a location, Mr. Franco.”

Enrique turned and ran down the hall to his office. Within seconds he returned and unfolded a map. He hastily spread it out onto the kitchen table and the map quickly began to soak up the spilled tea.

“Damn it!” he yelled in frustration as he yanked the map off the table.

Julie scrambled to the stove for a towel and frantically tried to clean up the mess.

As she smeared the liquid off the edge of the table, Enrique laid the map back down. “They are here,” he pointed aggressively, his finger thumping the table through the map like a hammer.

Dawson gripped his hand-held tightly and spoke feverishly. “All units, be advised that the fugitive’s location has been determined. Strategic assembly to occur in one half hour at Chimney Park.”

Dawson began to walk away, and as he did, Enrique grabbed at his shoulder. “What about Alyssa? Promise me that she won’t get hurt. Please?”

“We’ll do all that we can, Mr. Franco,” replied Dawson coldly. The agent quickly gathered his men from within the house and all but one of them exited abruptly.

James looked over his shoulder towards the agents to make sure that they weren’t watching them. He looked back to Enrique. “Do you know?” he asked in a low voice.

Once more James nodded his head. He walked gingerly to the table and took a seat. He motioned to Julie for a paper and a pen, pretending to write on his palm. He then held his index finger to his lips.

Julie responded with a wrinkled brow in confusion.

James once more pretended to write on his hand as he looked to the lone soldier in the living room.

Still in a bit of a haze, Julie realized what James was asking. She slowly glanced to the soldier and then casually made her way to the kitchen counter where a pencil and paper were sitting next to the phone. She handed him the pad and asked once more, “Is Alyssa okay?”