The Source (The Mindbender Series Book 1) Read online

  This felt like the oddest interaction I'd ever had. “Well… I'll have to ask my grandfather,” I softly offered. They didn't seem terribly disappointed, merely accepting that answer as if they'd expected it. But they were more robotic in their understanding than what I'd expected.

  “Of course. I'm sure he won't mind,” Ruben said. He stared at nothing in particular and grinned.

  “We can ask him for you, if you'd like,” Tina offered.

  “No, I think I can handle that.” I glanced at Alex to see her grinning at me in amusement.

  “Here, take my number,” Tina said. “If you need anything, call us. It doesn't matter what time.”

  “Your parents don't get mad if people call late?”

  She laughed like I'd just told a really funny joke. “No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. Call us, really, any time you like.”

  “You're suddenly the popular one, Pocahontas.” Alex smiled, coming to sit right beside me. “Creepy, isn't it?” she whispered. I glared at the two assistant principals on the other side of the cafeteria. “Look at the gruesome twosome up there. You think we can't see them constantly looking over here?” Alex said.

  “Sorry. I think I'm the reason they're here,” I admitted. “My grandfather has them watching over me.”

  “He has, has he? Well, you don't have to apologize,” Tina said, her smile stiff.

  “What? Oh, great,” Alex exclaimed. “They're gonna find out for sure that I'm skipping. Thanks a lot, Pocahontas.”

  “I should go.” I stood from the table, but Tina stopped me.

  “You should!” Alex shouted.

  “Don't be ridiculous,” Tina added, pulling me down as I tried to get up. “Stay!” Her oddly tight grip on my arm and her strained smile made me freeze.

  “Really, guys?” Alex snarled, glaring at them all.

  Tina, Ruben, and Sean offered no apology or explanation at all, beaming still from where they sat and turning to face her. Angrily, Alex rose only to drop back to her seat when she noticed the assistant principals finally approaching our table.

  “Great. Here they come,” she whispered, trying to hide her face behind her hand. “If they see me, I'll get another week of detention. Why did you bring her here, Tina? She's gonna get me in trouble.”

  “Perhaps you should have stayed put,” Sean said without glancing away from his book. Alex made a face and offered him her middle finger. “How mature,” he whispered without looking up from his reading.

  I stood, and even after Tina called out to me, I moved towards Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool. I couldn't let Alex get in trouble because of me. The two administrators greeted me with smiles.

  “She saved your ass,” I heard Tina tell Alex behind me.

  “Don't expect me to thank her, your highness,” Alex grumbled.

  “Perhaps you should,” Ruben said.

  “I like her,” Sean added.

  “Me too,” Ruben agreed.

  “Oh, fuck you guys!” Alex yelled, leaving the table as I led the assistant principals out of the cafeteria at the other end.

  I stopped in the hallway with Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez just as I noticed Alex stepping through the other set of the cafeteria doors down the hall. “Can you guys show me to my next class?” I asked them, directing their attention in the opposite direction as Alex ducked into the stairwell nearby and disappeared.

  The assistant principals had been more than happy to offer their help. I had never seen any administrators like these two, but now I was stuck with them—the gruesome twosome, Alex had called them.

  As we walked, Mr. Vasquez wouldn't stop talking about faculty get-togethers and dinners at the old man's house. Mr. Claypool, although kind and sweet, was a bit of a nerd, lecturing me on grades and schoolwork. I thought of what Alex had said about them. They seemed fairly nice to me.

  “Wait until Christmas,” Mr. Vasquez said. “We have faculty parties and then Thanksgiving dinners for the whole staff.”

  “But you know that's not what life's all about, my dear,” Mr. Claypool interrupted, glaring at Mr. Vasquez. “Good grades and studying hard are always more important than parties.” Mr. Vasquez agreed with a nod almost immediately.

  They stopped at the end of the hallway. I noticed the entrance to the gym—where my next PE class was—but I didn't just want to dart away. Luckily for me, I was saved by the bell, and even as the men kept talking, I broke away.

  “That's me. Thanks for the help,” I said and rushed toward the doors.

  Chapter 10:

  The Man in the Black Suit and Red Tie

  Unfortunately, PE was required for every student, but since I didn't have any real athletic skills, I figured I'd just sit on the bleachers to pass the time. And maybe the teachers would be sympathetic to that and the fact that Dr. Edwards was my grandfather.

  But when I arrived, the gym was empty. I glanced at my schedule card to double check; yes, I had gym this period. So where was everybody? I took only a few steps into the quiet, empty gym before a hand came down on my shoulder, startling me. I spun around to meet the round blue eyes of the gym teacher, who just stared rudely.

  “You're late,” she said, waving for me to hand over my schedule card.

  That didn't make sense; the bell just rang, making me fairly early, if anything. The gym teacher looked over my schedule card, then handed it back to me. “I was at the principal's office,” I said, but the woman, dressed in a blue and white shirt two sizes too small and tight blue shorts, obviously didn't care for excuses.

  “Go to the locker room with the rest of the girls,” she snapped. I tried to smile, even when she didn't in return, and slowly walked towards the locker room door.

  “Oh, and Miss Belle,” she called after me. When I turned, she placed her hands on her hips, looking intimidating and still very gawky—taller and bigger than most women. “Let this be the last time you're late to my class. Understood?”

  There was obviously no sense in arguing with her. I nodded and hurried to the locker room, feeling her eyes on me until I finally ducked inside.

  The girls' locker room was a mess of lockers and benches, showers and individual bathroom stalls. The room was covered in a grey, checkered tile stained with years of teenage sweat and adolescent hardship. The walls were fifthly and covered in pen and pencil markings, as were the bathroom stalls, inside and out. The lighting inside was poor; bulbs were loose, some were missing, and a few had gone out and not yet been replaced. Only some of them now worked, and even those flickered. It seemed more like a dungeon than a high school.

  The other girls were all getting dressed; some already knew the routine and had quickly changed into their gym uniforms. When I found an empty bench beside the lockers, a few girls merely glanced in my direction; no one smiled at me or made eye contact, and if they did, it was followed by roll of the eyes or a grimace of dislike.

  But I was accustomed to the stares of others.

  I opened an empty locker and pulled out my gym uniform from inside of my school bag. A few girls looked in my direction while I changed, and I didn't need to be able to read minds to feel what they were thinking. I sat there tying my shoes and pulling back my hair, hearing their giggling whispers behind their hands and feeling their glares. My face grew hot, and the few working lights flickered even more intensely. The pipes rattled, and I told myself to calm down and ignore their judgements, stuffing everything into the open locker.

  The coach's whistle startled us all, and everyone scattered out of the locker room toward the basketball court. I closed the locker and made to follow them until I heard footsteps across the tiled floor to my right. I glanced around the locker room and caught sight of a dark-suited man walking towards the back.

  At that moment, I had no doubt what I saw. I stepped farther back into the locker room, curiosity pulling at me, and glimpsed the edge of a dark suit disappearing behind a swinging door.

  I hurried towards the metal door, its glass window reflecting light on w
ater from the other side. Only briefly did I look back to be sure everyone else had left the locker room; I was alone. It wasn't hard to picture the gym teacher's face, hear her voice and that whistle going off again in my head. I should have headed to the gym with the rest of them, but I didn't.

  Quickly and silently, I pulled open the door and walked into the pool area. The pool sat only a few feet from the entrance, dark and still. The black water rippled as if a breeze had blown through the room. The scant light was dim, and those few bulbs hardly lit the large, grey room. Some had broken, and shattered glass lay scattered beside the pool, dangerously close to the dark water. I felt a cold breeze touch the back of my neck—almost like a hand, but that was ridiculous. Nevertheless, the thought made me shiver.

  I stepped closer to the edge, trying to see the bottom of the pool, but that was surprisingly difficult. There was no visible bottom from where I stood, and I cringed. When I took another step, the water seemed to grow even deeper and darker. In an attempt to make light of my discomfort, I stuck my tongue out at my own hazy reflection, wondering how anyone could swim in that very murky water. It looked disgusting.

  “I wonder how long they've gone without cleaning this dump?” I whispered.

  I glanced around again, feeling a little better when I did not find the man in the black suit and red tie. Where had he gone? I was only one here, and there were no other doors besides the one I'd entered. I turned to head back to the locker room, and the building groaned around me, the floors rumbling.

  A bucket clanged to the ground and rolled out into the dim lighting; I nearly squeaked in surprise. I slowly backed away, and in the shadows, I caught a glimpse of an unnatural, shadowy figure standing there amidst the darkness, looking at me.

  My sudden panic made it impossible to move.

  “Hello?” I croaked, realizing how stupid that was given how many times I'd scolded hapless victims in horror films for doing the same thing.

  Really? Just run!

  The water in the pool stirred; a mass of bubbles gathered, emerging on the surface. Finally, I turned to leave, but the shadowy appeared directly in front of me. A scream escaped my mouth, the figure lunged, and I stumbled backwards into the cold water.

  Then everything went black.

  * * *

  My body trembled, and a shudder raced up my back and shoulders, raising the hair on my arms. I opened my eyes. Another current vibrated through my body, this time into my hands, and I'd never experienced a sensation quite like it.

  Then I sat up, finding myself lying on the cold wet floor, inches from the dark pool. My reflection mocked me from its edge. I pulled away. It was too quiet here; too dreadfully quiet. When I realized I hadn't heard the bell ring in what felt like a really long time, I wondered what exactly had happened.

  An eerie ringing echoed all around me, and while I couldn't place its source, I had the feeling it was meant to warn me of something.

  I rose, unable to look away from the dark water of the pool, and a strange dread consumed me. I stumbled away from the ledge and fought to breathe; there was something in there.

  The world around me bent, then expanded. The tile floor cracked in front of me. Piece by piece, the tiles fell away into nothing below, finally stopping inches from my feet. I turned the other directly and tried again to head toward the door, but the floor crumbled away again around me. Someone—or something—didn't want me to leave. Swallowing, I glanced once more at the edge of the pool, where some unknown thing called to me.

  Unseen hands rippled through the surface of the water, massive bubbles gathering at the center. Time seemed to slow their forming, and I backed away until there was nowhere else to go. Pinned against the back wall, I witnessed a figure slowly emerge from the dark pool.

  Locks of blond hair fell neatly from his head. His closed eyes opened, arms extended as he slowly rose before me from the water. He hovered briefly in the air, our eyes met, and a smile curved his lips.

  I shivered. It was the man in the black suit.

  The figure slowly drifted away from the pool and lowered his arms as he came to stand only a few feet in front of me. Nothing about him seemed natural—a pasty, plastic doll. “You?” I breathed.

  He moved toward me, then froze, turning slightly as a bright light streaked between us and engulfed him. It knocked him across the room and through the far wall, which collapsed with a thunderous roar.

  I just stared for a moment, unable to process what had happened, until phantom hands reached from the wall to grasp at me. I darted away, screaming. The ghostly hands shriveled back like dried weeds and disappeared.

  All around me, the room began to collapse; part of the ceiling crashed down, blocking my path. The water stirred again, and once more, something rose from its depths. It seemed impossible, but I had a feeling the man would return from there, and the thought terrified me.

  In a panic, I tried to scramble over the fallen ceiling, desperately searching for an escape. With a splash, another ghostly figure leaped from the dark waters to land on the stained floor in front of me. He gazed down at me, and I shriveled back, too frightened to move. His radiant purple eyes drew me to him, staring deep into my soul.

  'Don't be afraid.' His lips never moved.

  Confusion and fear ran through me, but I was absorbed by his stare and couldn't move. Our gazes remained locked by an unknown force, and through the swirling purple eyes of his, a current connected us—an overwhelming energy flowing from him to me and back again. He was here to protect me.

  'Hurry. He draws near. He will not give up. Take my hand.' I gazed at him, perplexed. 'Yes,' his voice hissed in my mind. 'Hurry.' He extended his hand and smiled.

  I slowly reached for his outstretched hand, and he carefully drew me toward him until our bodies pressed together, our faces just inches apart. An overwhelming sense of safety flooded through me, and I felt myself blushing in his arms, absurdly unable to think of anything in these tense circumstances but how much I wanted to kiss him. I tried to speak but could not form any words I understood.

  “Who are you?” I finally managed.

  The man smiled, his eyes sparkling like rare gems. “You know me…” he whispered.

  “I do?”

  The words had barely left my mouth before a dark figure emerged behind us. The man with the violet eyes shoved me away and turned to face the newcomer, who moved impossibly quickly to grip my protector by the throat and lift him off the ground. The neatly tailored black suit and red tie were the only things visible in the darkness.

  My rescuer clutched at the hands around his neck, fighting to escape.

  “Stop!” I cried. “Leave him alone.” I grabbed a nearby chunk of fallen ceiling and tossed it at the dark figure. A growl escaped its unseen lips, and I cowered away again. The dark figure's mouth opened and grew wide, his hold hardened tightening on my still-struggling rescuer. Billowing appendages like tentacles emerged from the widen opening of his mouth. I panicked when they reached toward my rescuer's face.

  “Stop. No!” I yelled again, hoping for a distraction.

  At once, my rescuer raised his open palm toward the dark figure, and the sickening, waving appendages slowly pulled back into the gaping hole. The figure's mouth shrank to a normal-looking line upon his face. He turned his head and suddenly released the stranger who had come to save me.

  My rescuer dropped to the floor and onto his knees, gripping his own hand. Had he been hurt? I didn't understand what had happened but soon found the dark figure's gaze upon me once more. Then it stepped slowly backwards and faded into the darkness.

  The new stranger rose and approached me, where he knelt again at my side; a sweet concern consumed his strangely pale, diamond-shaped face. His strong jaw and dark, matted locks contrasted even more with such a pallid complexion. I found myself drawn powerfully to him once again. What was happening? Who was he? Why did I feel so connected to him? His large, strange purple eyes regarded me with curiosity. I felt like he needed m
e.

  Then he smiled, as if I'd spoken these questions out loud. His concerned frown softened, gentling into a surprising innocence, like a beast tamed by the guidance of the richest nectar.

  He reached out his hand—something I sensed he had longed to do. Then he leaned forward, drawing closer until he nearly fell upon me, pressing his lips against my own without warning. Startled, I made no attempt to pull away, and his hand aggressively pressed the back of my head towards his soft, gentle mouth. I collapsed into the warmth of his delicate kiss, breathing in a deep taste of him.

  Under his spell, an image of my grandfather entered my mind. He sank deeper into the darkness of the pool, trying to reach out but sinking all the faster for how desperately he fought. I tried to grasp a hold of him, but I couldn't quite touch his outstretched hand.

  Our fingers came close briefly before he slipped from my grasp. Then a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the darkness in which I was losing my grandfather. He sank until I no longer saw him—until the darkness consumed him.

  As the stranger holding me pushed me back, I opened my eyes and stared deep into his, trying to enter his mind. But I only found a mixture of images I couldn't make sense of, feeling suddenly dizzy. The nausea overwhelmed me, a rising pressure building in my stomach, and I choked. An unexpected surge of water poured from my mouth. The new stranger watched in passive patience as I fought the urge again, but my stomach lurched, making me gag.

  Instead of vomiting again, I collapsed to the floor, coughing violently until another rush of water left my body and spilled across the floor. Then I thought I understood; I had drowned. And this beautiful protector with the purple eyes had brought me back.

  Chapter 11:

  The End is Always the Beginning

  When I awoke, I lay on an uncomfortable cot, the springs digging into my upper back. I looked around and realized I was in the nurse's office. Mr. McClellan, the man I had briefly met the day I'd met my grandfather, sat beside the bed. Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez stood nearby. All three watched me, eyes wide with worry and concern, and only moved when they realized I was awake.