chapter Seventeen
The silence inside the car was killing me, but I wasn’t going to be the one to crack. As far as I knew, my mind was too messed up for me to say anything coherent.
I kept replaying everything that had happened in the last month. I’d met Micah, found a real-life but different Victor, lost contact with Cheryl, and lost the visions of dream Victor. Freaky gods appeared in my visions, and I’d watched both the destruction of a town in Switzerland and a part of Micah’s past in visions. Plus the shining number eight.
I would give anything to crawl inside a cave and have a vision, a long and permanent vision, where Victor, the dream Victor, and I lived happily ever after. Instead, I was now on the road. My heart squeezed tight, hurting. My hands shook every time I thought about the things that were happening to me, and I didn’t understand. I was scared and alone. I took a deep breath. If only I could go home and forget about it all.
However, I was buried too deep in this mess. I had to find out what was happening. Why bats were coming for me, why there were two guys I could heal with my touch, how I could heal them … and so many other things that made my head throb.
I sent a text message to Raisa and Olivia from Victor’s phone, telling them that bats had entered our building, that they should stay with friends for a while and be careful upon returning there, and that I was going to spend a few days away with Victor. I could already see them imagining I was on a romantic getaway. If only.
After forty minutes of silent driving, he finally spoke. “Do you trust that guy?” He eyed Micah on his bike through the rearview mirror.
I sighed, staring out at the dark exterior. Besides the road and what the car’s headlights illuminated, not much else was discernible. It was like life was nonexistent. Here and there, we would pass another car or see some houses or RVs along the road. He sat in the driver’s seat next to me, but I’d never felt so alone.
“I don’t know who to trust. Can I trust you?”
“Good point,” he said. After a couple of minutes, he tried again, “How did you meet him?”
“Micah saved me from a bat attack two months ago. He appeared and the bats went away.”
“Just like that?”
I turned to him. “Just like that. Didn’t you see how the bats reacted around him back there?”
“I did. But I needed to make sure you saw it too.”
I chuckled, a hollow, sad sound. “I know the feeling, but I don’t know what is happening or why. Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind. I should face this and do what I should have done a long time ago.” Tears burned my eyes. “See a psychiatrist and ask for help. I don’t know what is real or what isn’t anymore.”
“Oh, this is real, trust me.” He glanced at me; one side of his mouth curled up.
How familiar that half-smile was. I whispered, “You sound like the Victor in my visions. How do I know I’m not hallucinating right now?”
He didn’t answer me. After a while he asked, “How is the Victor in your visions?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well.” I shifted my weight, turning to face him directly so I could analyze him. “He’s an exact copy of you, physically, I mean. Except the hair. His hair is a little shorter and it’s never messy. You dress more casually than he does too.”
He kept his eyes on the road and I kept my eyes on him. It was still hard to believe they weren’t one and the same. “He’s kind, funny, confident, elegant. He loves to dance, and we can talk for hours about anything.” Oh, I missed him. And that thought made me realize something. “When did you move to New York?”
“About seven weeks ago.”
Almost two months ago. That was when the first non-Victor vision occurred. “You know, since actually having met you, I haven’t had visions about him. Just about other unrelated events.”
“Like what?”
“Like the town in Switzerland that was burned to the ground in seconds. I saw it happening.”
“Did you see how it happened?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“What was it?”
I turned away. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
But I didn’t say anything because I was gawking at the gas station that was coming into sight ahead of us.
“Holy hell,” I whispered.
How bizarre. The gas station had colossal green neon signs with the name of the place, Al’s Corner, spread along the road, plus several tall posts with stadium-type lights around the perimeter. I bet the place didn’t cast a single shadow. The owner must be afraid of the dark.
“This is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen,” Victor muttered, startling me. Once more, he seemed like my Victor by saying what I was thinking.
He brought the car to a stop in a large parking lot alongside a diner that was as bright as the rest of the gas station. Micah parked beside us a few seconds later, revving the engine of his bike before letting it die.
As he circled his car, Victor cursed and kicked the air. “Look at this.” He pointed to the largest and densest scratch on the side of his car, right under a cracked window. He turned to Micah, who stood leaning against his bike with a sly grin. “This is your fault. You’re going to pay for this.”
“It’s not my fault the bats want your blood,” Micah said, shrugging.
“And why do they want his blood?” I asked. I crossed my arms and quickly scanned the place. It was almost empty except for one customer and two attendants inside the diner.
“Not only his,” Micah said. “Yours too. And mine, but for some reason, they prefer not to come too close to me.”
“What else do you know?” I asked.
“Not much more,” he said. “Since my parents died, I’ve been experiencing certain things. Weird things. One of them is the ability to feel when a person has a different and strong aura. And the three of us have strong, unusual auras.”
“Three beacons,” I whispered.
“Yes, our auras together become like beacons, calling the bats and whatever else,” Micah said.
Victor gave him a sidelong look. “Do you expect me to believe this shit?”
“Believe what you want,” Micah snapped. “I’m just telling you what I know.”
“And the pain?” I asked, interrupting them before the bickering increased. “Did it start after your parents’ deaths too?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “It started a few days earlier.”
“Wait.” Victor raised his hand as if he was asking for a time out. “You also have pain?”
Micah’s brow creased. “What do you mean, also?”
I answered before Victor could. “You two have pain. And, so far, I’ve been able to take it away with my touch. For both of you.”
Both guys gaped at each other.
Micah stepped closer to Victor. “Back to your question: Do I expect you to believe all that? Hell yeah! If you’re like me, the aches you feel are inexplicable, and yet you won’t believe the bats want to chew on us specifically?” He snickered. “If you didn’t believe, why did you come?”
“You want to know why I’m here?” Victor asked, clenching his fists. “I’m here because she”—he pointed at me—“has visions about me. She knows everything about me and I just met her. I gotta figure that out. Besides, she’s the only one that can lessen the ache.”
Well, that hurt. Deep down, in the darkest corners of my soul, I’d hoped he’d say he came because he wanted to be with me. I was so naïve. Of course he was here for himself. Why else would this Victor do anything?
“Visions?” Micah turned to me. “What visions?”
“Like the one I had where I saw when your parents died.” I stared at my feet, afraid of his reaction. “I’ve been having visions of Victor for quite some time. Though, this past month or so, my visions have become more delusional, less … ah … personal.”
With his typical smile, Micah said, “You won’t try to tell me the visions about him”—he nodded toward Victor—“weren’t delusional, will you?”
I almost laughed, as if it didn’t hurt to be here and believe I was in the craziest vision ever.
“If you made us come here to tell us bats are after us, can I go home now?” Victor asked.
“If you want to die, be my guest,” Micah said, flinging a hand toward the road that led back to the highway.
“You make no sense,” Victor muttered, turning his back to us.
“Can’t you see something is going on here?” Micah asked, his voice strained. “I’ve been wandering Earth for the last four years, looking for people who could explain things to me, people who were like me. And I found you two. I couldn’t believe it when you healed me.” He stared into my eyes, so grateful and so hopeful, he took my breath away. “And then you.” He pointed at Victor, who turned to listen. “Your aura is comparable to mine, but it’s also different. I can’t explain. And you feel the pain and the dizziness like I do.”
Victor shrugged. “That doesn’t explain things.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Micah said. “But aren’t you wondering why we are the way we are?”
Wait. “You left,” I said, turning to Micah. “You said you had something to do abroad. What was it?”
“I followed the lead of a strong aura,” he confessed, regret and rage filling his features. “But it was a trap. Someone wanted me away from here. From you.” He stared at me, sending chills up my spine. Away from me? “I was attacked, but I managed to escape.”
“Attacked?” I advanced toward him, my hands rising to search him, to see if he was okay, but I caught myself before getting too near. I cleared my throat. “By whom?”
“I don’t know!” He raised his hands in exasperation. “I couldn’t get a good look at them, but one thing I do know—whatever it was, it didn’t feel human.”
“What?” A hysterical laugh was stifled in Victor’s question. “You’re kidding, right?”
“All right, Nadine.” Micah offered his hand. “Leave this damn skeptic behind and let’s try to save ourselves.”
Leave Victor behind? Even if he wasn’t exactly my Victor? I looked between them, my mouth open, words absent. “We can’t just leave him behind.”
“What if I want to be left behind?” Victor asked, his eyes raging.
“But—”
I didn’t need to continue. Putting his hands to his temple, he gritted his teeth as the enigmatic pain assaulted him. He started shaking and his breathing became erratic. He fell on his knees and lowered his head, gripping his chest like he could take the pain away with his hand.
But it wasn’t his touch that could take the pain away. It was mine.
I knelt beside him, my hands on his face. Instantly, warmth from my palms spread through his smooth skin, saving him from losing consciousness. Victor inhaled and his cheeks flushed; he stared at me, his eyes revealing the frustration that consumed him.
“You may find a way of surviving the bats and other creatures that might come for you,” Micah said. “But you won’t survive that.”
“He’s right,” I whispered, trying to put all my charm and hope into my eyes to move him into agreeing. “We don’t know what’s happening, but you need my touch. We should stay together until we find out more about it.”
Either my charm worked, or the relief from the pain was too attractive.
Victor nodded and stood up with me. “What now?” he asked, eyeing Micah.
“Now, I don’t know.” Micah shrugged. “We keep moving? I try to sense someone else like us?”
My stomach growled. “How about we eat something while we think,” I suggested, glancing at my wristwatch. It was almost three in the morning, and I had barely finished my snack the previous evening.
“I’m in,” he said, offering me his arm.
I felt the urge to glance at Victor, but instead, linked my arm with Micah’s, turning toward the diner.
There was a colorful neon sign in the window, advertising snacks and drinks, and listing prices. Each letter or number was a different color. There were two number eights among the listed prices, and it was a relief to see they were not glowing or sparkling or anything else weird.
“That’s new,” I said, frowning.
“What?” Micah asked, following my gaze and examining the sign.
“The eights aren’t shining,” I said. The fives were pink, the ones were blue, and the eights were lit by white neon light. “No more than the other numbers.”
Micah chuckled. “Of course they aren’t. The two eights are burned out.”
What?
The eights were shining after all.
We took a table near the window. Micah sat by my side, and Victor sat across the table from us. The waitress came soon after, and we ordered a mochaccino and a cinnamon roll for me, a Pepsi and a chocolate doughnut for Victor, and beer and French fries for Micah.
Victor turned to me. “What was that about the number eight?”
I sighed, considering if I should tell them. Well, I was up to my neck in things I didn’t understand. Telling them one more bizarre thing couldn’t hurt. “Since my visions started, every number eight I see shines. In magazines, painted on walls, in books, on shirts, wherever. It’s like they have a white backlight.”
“Do you know what it means?” Micah asked.
“I wish,” I muttered.
Victor tapped his fingers on the table. “Forget glowing numbers. We have to think about what to do. We can’t just wander around trying to find whoever can help us. If that’s the case, then I would rather go home until Micah senses someone. Or something.”
God, his pessimism and rudeness was starting to irritate me.
“Are you always this much of a naysayer?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Most of the time, I’m worse,” he snapped, leaning closer.
“All right, children,” Micah chided. “We do have to think about what to do. I’m certain we shouldn’t remain in one place for too long though. Together, our auras are intense flares for anyone who might be after us.”
Anyone? Besides the bats, who could be after us? Even so, I wanted to know why the bats were after us.
Their voices grew dim and the world around me swirled. I closed my eyes against the rushing dizziness and saw in my mind’s eye a large, beige-colored stone room. Multiple white flags popped out on top of stone pillars, lit candles spread throughout the perimeter, and an altar stood at the back, where a poster I couldn’t clearly see was on display. Descending the altar stairs, a blond man, about average height and dressed in white robes, appeared before me. From his pocket he pulled out a card. I looked closer. In his hand, he held the same card Micah had picked up from the drawer in my room.
“Nadine?” I heard Victor call me. “Are you okay?”
The vision faded and I returned back to the diner, panting. I frowned, confused at the worry in his tone.
“What did you see?” Micah asked.
I sighed. “I know who can help us.”