Among the Shadows: Part 1, Chapter 13
Luke must have believed me this time for he nodded with satisfaction. Turning to sit correctly, he started the car and headed for the highway. I saw the box of tissues in the back seat, so I used some of them to wipe my hands and feet, trying to clean off most of the dirt. My clothes were not exactly spotless either. With nowhere else to put them, I left the dirty tissues in a pile on the car floor, and sat on the other side.
While Luke had been rough and resolutely insistent on taking me wherever he was going, he had not harmed me. The promise of information about my parents had my curiosity, and he knew it, grinning at his small achievement. I wanted to pester him with questions, but I let him rest a little with this minor victory.
As the car moved steadily forward, it became increasingly clear that I was being taken away from school. In the back of my mind, I remembered I had a final in two days. He had packed my purse, which held a credit card and some cash in there. I knew I could easily take a Greyhound bus back to school, assuming I was dropped off at a reasonable city and not the middle of nowhere. Depending on how far we went, I could still make it back in time. It didn't give a whole lot of time for studying, but at least I wouldn't outright fail the exam. I doubted that he had packed the books I needed seeing as how I watched him empty my book bag. If I had a chance with my phone, I could try to contact the professors and ask for a make-up exam and an extension on the paper. I didn't think anyone would believe a kidnapping excuse, especially if Susie thought we were friendly.
Finally, we were coasting on the highway, and I decided it was time to demand some answers. "So who are you, really? What do you know about my parents, and how do you know them?" I asked. "Wait, I want to see your face," I insisted, climbing my way to the passenger seat. With his hands on the wheel, Luke couldn't and didn't try to stop me. Since he made no move to dissuade me, I assumed that he believed my excuse. Seated in the front, I felt less like a hostage. Although I was still trapped in the car, Luke wasn't physically holding me anymore.
Once seated, I buckled my seatbelt and waited for him to speak. Even if he did not lie to me, it was going to be hard to confirm what he said. Anything he said. At the very least, the way he talked about himself and about shadows seemed like he believed it as truth, and I had seen him in action. There had to be some truth in what he claimed.
"I was eighteen when my parents were killed. I had a brother too," Luke began. Why was he talking about his family? I didn't care what happened to his family; I wanted to know about mine. But I kept my mouth closed and let him continue. At least he was talking.
Luke kept his eyes on the road as he continued his story. The shadows had always been careful to blend in with the humans. After the Salem witch trials, his kind lived quietly, trying not to raise any flags. About a hundred years ago, a group of extreme fanatics had formed. They had somehow figured out what the witch trials were really trying to do, and their followers pledged themselves to rid the earth of such demons. They called themselves 'Followers of the Eternal Flame'. The group he described sounded like a cult. My parents had been Catholics, though they did not try to push their beliefs on me, and I appreciated that. I thought about the name of the group, and why they would choose it. The name sounded familiar, though I couldn't place it.
At first, the shadows didn't pay any attention to them. After all, no shadow actually died in Salem. But the Followers grew in number and their resolve remained unbending. Although the exact count is unknown, shadows were presumably found and killed by the hand of the Followers. Around twenty years ago, their actions became more and more aggressive.
Luke added the information from the beginning, "That's when my house was attacked." He was quiet for a while, letting me absorb his story.
Finally, I asked, "But what does your history have to do with my parents?"
Furtively, Luke glanced over at me. I didn't know what he was looking for, or if he found it. "I didn't know them personally," he admitted. "So, I can't really tell you what they were like." Luke continued, "I do know that your parents loved you and tried to protect you as best they could." He may have been telling me what I wanted to hear, but it still felt good. I might be able to convince myself that they must have chosen to give me up for a good reason, or else, there was something else Luke hadn't told me yet.
"Your father Dr. Nicholas Lane was a scientist," Luke announced. Was. The usage of past tense would indicate he was no longer around, but there was always the chance he had merely given up the profession. "He studied perception, primarily through visual means. He did a lot of research on optical illusions."
"Kyra worked as a pre-school teacher. Dr. Lane met your mother, they were married, and eventually you were born," Luke said.
I thought about his statements. If my parents were educated citizens, why did they not want me? The mystery of their identities and their reasons had always been on my mind. I had always wondered if my mother was a drug addict who didn't want or couldn't deal with an unwanted pregnancy. It was easy to reason that if her situation had been better, then she might have kept me.
Grimly, he said, "They died when you were a year old." What? If I acknowledged what he said as true, my birth parents were dead. Dead. Gone. Both of them. I had been lured by the promise of their identities, and I couldn't meet them. I felt cheated and angry. When I realized I had been gripping my legs with tense hands, I relaxed them and took a deep breath.
Luke glanced at me before he continued, "It was a fire in the home." The news grew worse. A fire. I was officially a magnet for fire hazard accidents. But I heard the information: Kyra and Nicholas Lane died in the fire. Why didn't I feel like crying? I had cried countless tears for Emily and John. Every now and then, I still shed tears for them.
Slowly, I accepted the truth: I had never met them. I hadn't known these people, so I didn't feel sad. These people I didn't know were dead, and had been for twenty years. Suddenly aware of the tragedy, my heart plummeted as I accepted I would never meet them even as I felt relief in knowing they hadn't given me away. Luke quietly watched me process. Clearly and succinctly, Luke stated, "It wasn't an accident."
I worked slowly through his statement. If the fire was not an accident, then it happened on purpose, with intention. Murder? Was he suggesting my birth parents were murdered? The idea seemed preposterous. While I knew bad things happened all over the world, I couldn't understand how something so terrible could happen to people so near. I searched his face, but I didn't think Luke was lying about declaring their deaths not accidental. Anger welled up again, but I recognized that it wasn't Luke's fault that they were gone; he was just the messenger. I fervently hoped that he wasn't going to next admit to being responsible for their deaths; I didn't think I could handle it.
Pulling off the highway and off the exit ramp, Luke guided the car to the nearest gas station. "Remember what happened twenty years ago," Luke said.
What had he said? Twenty years ago, Luke's family had been attacked. I recalled something about the cult being more aggressive. I swallowed the questions I dared not ask aloud. Perhaps my birth parents' house was near Luke's house? Were my birth parents merely innocent bystanders in the cult's search for demons? More ludicrous thoughts drifted through my consciousness.
The car stopped beside a free gas pump, and Luke turned off the engine. He looked straight at me. "Alena, think." His tone hadn't changed, but it almost sounded condescending. I could tell he was tired of this conversation. Think about what? One of my philosophy professors was a huge fan of the Socratic Method, which I swore vehemently never worked with college students who just wanted to sleep. He never did figure it out, and most of his classes ended up being a huge waste of time. I felt like Luke was pushing in all the wrong directions. I crossed my arms and looked away. The mini-mart nearby probably had a payphone. Whatever craziness Luke was talking about, I didn't want to hear anymore.
"The candles last night. How did you feel?" Luke asked enigmatically.
The candles? The bitter taste surged anew at the mention. How did Luke know about the candles? I turned to stare incredulously at him. I hadn't even told Susie yet. "Stalker," I accused. How else could he have known? I could think of no other explanation. I remembered reeling outside on Kyle's porch. With the door wide open, the lit candles had been visible.
Sighing loudly, Luke persisted in his questions. "What did you taste?" he asked. "What do you taste now?" I didn't understand why he was asking. These questions didn't make any sense, nor did they have anything to do with my birth parents' deaths.
Bitter. I tasted bitterness. I shook my head. That taste was probably just a reflex. Some kind of Pavlov training. Maybe I psychologically associated potential fire hazards with eating ginger. This was all too strange.
Unbuckling his seatbelt, Luke seemed to move to get out of the car. I wondered if he would leave me unattended while he refueled the car. I unbuckled mine too. Instead, Luke turned quickly to grab my left hand, and his other hand deftly sliced my palm with the familiar kitchen knife.
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