Unveiled: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Novel (The Dark Skies Trilogy Book One) (2 page)

"I don't think this is an earthquake," Ruby says, looking up at the night sky through the windshield. "It's coming from above us, not below us."

Then, as if someone raised a dimmer switch on the darkened city, the whole sky begins to glow as a huge flaming ball appears in the night sky hurtling right toward us.

"What is that?" Phoebe cries, gripping the steering wheel.

"It's coming right at us!" Ruby ducks low in her seat.

I crane my neck to look out the back window. When I see it, my heart sinks. I know exactly what it is.

And it's all happening again.

"That's a meteor," I say in a strangely calm voice as the burning rock speeds closer and closer. "Kind of a big one too."

It's coming at us so fast that it's too late to get out and run. Terrified, the sisters hug each other. Alone in the backseat, I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for impact.

But somehow, miraculously, the massive ball of flames roars right over us, practically skimming the hood of the car. A split second later, it slams into the mountainside just beyond the next peak.

Like a bomb, the thunderous impact that follows literally slams into us as a massive wall of flames simultaneously rolls up into the air.

"Astrid! Where's your uncle?" Ruby swivels around, looking out the back window. "I think that huge flaming rock just destroyed your house!"

D
id
you know approximately 25 million meteorites fall to earth every day? Most burn up when they hit the atmosphere, and the rest are way too tiny to even be noticed like the size of a grain of rice. Only five to ten meteorites bigger than a baseball make it to earth's surface each year.

Fun fact: because the International Space Station will get hit by approximately 100,000 meteoroids over its 20-year life, it's covered with a layer of Kevlar, that crazy durable material used to make bulletproof vests.

I know a lot about meteors.

As of today, in all ten towns where I have lived, a meteorite, at least the size of a baseball, has come screaming down through the atmosphere and landed frighteningly close to my home. But never too close. Never this close. They usually crash out in some cow pasture or wipe out a swath of uninhabited forest. In all ten towns.

What do you suppose the odds of that are?

Nine out of the ten towns we've lived in have been in cold climates. Apparently my family has some sort of blood-tie to the royal family of Ivalo.

In case that doesn't ring a bell, the Ivaloians were a semi-nomadic people who lived near the Arctic Circle. Cold weather gypsies.

When I was little my uncle told me that one of the traits of a real Ivaloian princess is hair naturally white as snow and eyes the color of a bright blue winter sky. Just like me.

I’ve since rebelled against my crazy white hair by dying it more interesting colors. Right now, I’m hot pink. But I’m thinking about going blue.

Anyway, apparently, I would have been a princess if the country hadn't vanished from the face of the earth like a zillion years ago. Russian or Finland or somebody swallowed Ivalo up, which means the entire culture is basically extinct.

I think it's in the Southwestern part of Northeastern Europe. Something like that. You can google "tiny-insignificant-European-countries-that-no-longer-exist" to find the exact location.

Knock yourself out with that one.

Anyway, it took until I was about fourteen to figure out that the appearance of one of these meteorites coincided with our moves.

Within a few days of each meteorite’s dramatic appearance, my bags are packed, and my uncle and I are on our way to the next town where I get to be the new kid all over again.

You'd think I would have figured this all out sooner. I'm pretty sure I didn't connect the dots because I assumed that huge flaming meteorites that rain down death and destruction are just an ordinary, everyday thing.

Hey, if you saw them on a regular basis you'd probably think that too.

It wasn't until I studied astronomy in 8th grade that I realized the odds of being around ten large meteorites in one lifetime are staggeringly, jaw-droppingly, super-improbably high.

In fact, ten in ten years is statistically impossible.

Yet, here I am, breathless with fear in the backseat of Phoebe's cushy car. This is by far the closest I have ever been to one of them. Does this mean something? It has to mean something, right? Something terrible.

"Oh my God! Ruby's right." Phoebe swivels around in the driver's seat fumbling with her phone. "That comet-thingy hit your house!"

"My house?" I repeat numbly. Can a meteor act like some laser-focused missile targeting a particular house? “No way…”

"Yes, your house," Ruby answers. "The house we just picked you up at."

"...some sort of asteroid or something." Phoebe's now on her cell phone talking to 911. "It just landed near Outlook Drive and Laurel Terrace... like two seconds ago. The whole hillside is on fire."

"My Uncle Conrad is in that house," I hear myself say. Next thing I know, the three of us are scrambling out of the car, moving to a clearing in the trees in order to get a better look up the mountain.

Scanning the hillside, I try to get my bearings, mentally calculating exactly where my house sits in relation to the growing wall of flames.

A distant chorus of barking dogs, accompanied by the wail of sirens, fills the air as darkened houses light up like fireflies all over the canyon. At the mountain's peak, a quarter mile up the road, the flames shoot higher and spread wider.

"We’ve got to get up there." Ruby grabs my arm and pulls me back to the car. "To see what happened."

"What?!" Phoebe reacts, her eyes darting to her shiny new BMW. "No, no, no. That's not safe. Not to drive."

"Dude, don't even." Ruby rolls her eyes and keeps walking. "If you're thinking about your precious damn car…"

"Dad will kill me if something happens to this car. I've had it for less than a month."

"Um, that's why you have insurance," Ruby counters.

"Insurance doesn't help if you're dead," Phoebe snaps back, and I silently have to agree with her on that one.

While the sisters argue on the side of the road, I pull out my cell phone and call my uncle. Voicemail clicks on allowing me no time to deliberate. Do I leave a message?

"Hi, it's me. If you weren't instantly killed by the impact of a flaming rock that just slammed into the mountainside, give me a call. Where am I, you ask? Ha, funny story! I kind of snuck out to go to a movie. But I'm totally fine so no worries. Okay bye now."

Instead, I hang up.

"Let's just wait for the fire department. They're equipped to head into that." Phoebe points at the flames now devouring the dry grass as they creep down toward the road. "We can explain we think Astrid's uncle is still in the house, so they’ll check there first."

But Ruby's already on the move. "We can't wait. It's her family," she argues, her eyes flick in my direction then back to her sister. "Or... you know what I mean."

In the glow of the headlights, the two girls look so much alike. Like sisters do, I suppose. I've never felt that kind of connection, that authentic family bond.

So many times, I've secretly wished I came from a regular mom-and-dad-throw-in-a-sibling-or-two family. Especially a sister. The entirety of my family consists of Uncle Conrad and me. I don't even have some random cousin.

Despite the fact that he's infuriatingly strict and controlling, and notwithstanding the fact that all I do is complain about him and dream of a day when I can move out, I can't deal with the thought of losing my uncle. I can’t deal with the idea of being alone.

Before I know it, I take off running. Sprinting up the center of the road with the crumbling blacktop passing beneath my feet. I don't exactly have a plan once I get to the top of the hill. All I know is that I have to get there.

"Astrid! Stop!" Ruby calls after me. "Are you crazy?"

"You can't run into the fire!" Phoebe yells as the road curves to the left. Her words echo as I leave them behind, "You'll get yourself killed."

I guess that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

Gradually the road grows steeper, wrapping itself around the side of the mountain. When I'm certain I’m out of their sight, I kick up my speed, running faster and faster; faster than a 16-year-old girl should be able to run.

When I turned 13, I began noticing that I was different. I started to change in ways that no one would notice except me. I’m faster, stronger— sometimes even smarter – than kids my age.

And that’s the least of it. I have a couple other seriously strange traits that I don’t care to discuss with anyone.

More than once, I’ve tried to talk to my uncle about it, but he just smiles and tells me that I’m special.

Um, special?

How about a big freak? Because that’s exactly what I feel like.

Thirty seconds later, I force myself to slow down, back to a normal, non-freakish pace, when I hear the growl of the big BMW engine creeping up behind me. The car slows, gliding along right next to me.

"Jeez, you already made it this far?" Phoebe’s eyebrows arch. She's most likely mentally calculating that I shouldn't have been able to cover this much distance so quickly. And she's right.

"Get in," Ruby says, leaning out the driver's window. She must have commandeered her sister's car.

"Don't follow me." I keep jogging. "Your sister's right. It's not safe."

"Get in the damn car, Astrid." Phoebe looks ticked, cross-armed in the passenger seat. "Now we're just wasting time."

When I don't immediately comply, the BMW swings around in front of me, blocking my path and forcing me to stop. I hate to put them in danger, but I really need to get up to the top of the hill.

Reluctantly, I slide into the backseat. Ruby floors it before I can get the car door totally closed.

"You're going to be in so much trouble when mom and dad find out you hijacked my car." Phoebe shakes her head as we sail through the darkness up the winding mountain road.

"So don't tell them, and I won't tell them about you and Anthony Santorini in the pool house last week," Ruby grins, ending the discussion.

As we got closer to the top, we encounter a dense green mist, the color of mold, rolling down the hill and clinging to the ground as it wafts past us.

"Whoa. That is some weird-ass smoke." Phoebe squints out the front windshield.

"It doesn't look... natural," Ruby adds. It's quickly getting so thick we can barely see beyond the strange wall of green. "I mean, what burns making green smoke?"

Approaching the driveway that slopes down from my house, my stomach twists in a knot, and I’m suddenly afraid I might hurl all over Phoebe's new car. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, concentrating on breathing and not puking.

"Astrid, check it out!" Ruby points up the hill. "I think your house is okay. The fire is passed it. Higher up in the canyon."

My eyes pop open, and I plaster my forehead against the cool window glass trying to get a glimpse of my house through the hazy green air. There it is! Relief washes through every ounce of my being.

"Where exactly is the fire department?" Phoebe wonders aloud. "They should be here by now."

Suddenly, from behind us, we hear vehicles approaching. But it’s not the fire department. An ominous fleet of big black SUVs with darkened windows roars around the bend and races past us. The smoky windows make it impossible to tell who’s inside each car.

"Whoa!" Ruby exhales, as the seventh and final SUV speeds by. "Who are they?"

"Not the fire department. That's for sure," Phoebe replies as the caravan of shady black SUVs disappears around the bend in front of us. "No lights or sirens."

“And how'd they get up here so fast?” Ruby adds.

"Well, they're not going much farther in that direction," I explain. "This street dead-ends in like a thousand feet."

"Wait, so, there's nothing up there?" Ruby asks.

"There's a locked fence that surrounds this tiny unpaved fire road. I think it curves back to some sort of water main or sewer line or something."

The paved road beyond my house continues around one more turn, then it's truncated at a dead-end marked by a serious twelve-foot high chain-link fence locked tight with possibly the biggest padlock ever made. Then it's topped with so much razor wire that birds don't even try to land on it.

With a crooked little grin on her face, Ruby throws the car into gear, and we surge forward up the road. I know that smile. It’s her signature I’m-looking-for-trouble smile.

Ruby accelerates, and Phoebe reacts. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

Ruby shrugs lightly, like it’s no big deal, as we trail behind the caravan of spooky SUVs. "To go have a little look-see."

"You are crazy," Phoebe mutters, shaking her head. "If you get so much as a scratch on my car, you're so dead."

"Oh just chill," Ruby replies as we come around the last curve before the dead-end.

I'm shocked to see the tall gate standing wide open. I've never seen it open before. But the line of SUVs is rumbling down the fire road.

“Let’s see where they’re going.” Before either of us can object, Ruby punches the accelerator. Unfortunately, the car lurches once then unceremoniously dies; the engine frozen, the dashboard lights fade, and the radio abruptly cuts off.

"Hey!" Phoebe's eyes flare with anger. "What’d you do to my car?"

"I didn't do anything!" Ruby steers the still rolling car onto the shoulder as it slows to a stop under a sprawling California Oak a few feet away from the open gate. Twisting the key in the ignition, she tries to restart it. "It just conked out."

"But it's only a month old,” Phoebe says, unable to believe her fancy car could possibly malfunction.

"Maybe it's this freaky smoke," I suggest, looking out the window at the strange green smoke growing thicker and thicker by the second. "Maybe it gummed up the engine or something."

“I think we should get out of here,” Phoebe suggests. “Before we get burned up alive.”

“Yeah, let’s walk down to my house and call for help,” I say, feeling very nervous.

“The fire is gone.” Ruby’s just staring at the red glow of the SUVs’ taillights. They’re just about to vanish into the green veil-like smoke about 100 yards down the fire road. “I think we should follow them. They wouldn't be here if there wasn't something good going on back there.”

She’s right. The fire seems to be gone. It seems like this whole area should be engulfed in flames, but there's no visible sign of flames. However, the sickly green smoke continues to drift out from somewhere down the fire road.

"You're not actually following that scary line of SUVs into a fire?" Phoebe replies.

"What fire?" Ruby smirks, daring us to do something. “Look around. It’s gone.”

“Wait. What? You’re right.” I roll my window down. The fire that was blazing back in the canyon a moment ago appears to be out. "So if there’s not fire then where's the smoke coming from?"

"Only one way to find out." Ruby pops the door open and slinks low out of the driver's seat. "I'm going to find out what's happening."

For a split second, I can't decide what to do. It doesn't seem safe. But I'm more than a little curious to see this meteor up close. Especially, if it's going to be responsible for me moving again.

And now that I know my uncle is all safe and sound back at our house, I don’t mind postponing the inevitable lecture I’m going to get when I go home.