Secrets in the Dark Read online

  Secrets in the Dark

  Chimera Chronicles

  Book 1

  Copyright © 2012 K D Blakely

  Published by Kat-Tales.Net at Smashwords

  Cover art from phatpuppy.com and bookish-brunette.com

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover art from phatpuppy.com and bookish-brunette.com.

  ISBN: 978-0-9886626-0-5

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’ve learned that writing a book takes more than the efforts of just one person. There are many I need to thank for the book you are about to read. Ruth, Cheryl, Steve, Scott, Matt and all of my Stonehenge friends deserve a great deal of the credit. (Or blame, depending on how much you like this book…)

  I am grateful for my Mom and Dad, who always encouraged my love of reading and writing.

  I hope you have fun reading this. I certainly enjoyed writing it!

  Chapter 1

  What The…?

  I’d never actually had my face pushed into a bowl of jello, but I was pretty sure it would feel exactly like this. My whole body was being shoved through something rubbery and clammy. Totally disgusting!

  Note to self — You can’t breathe jello!

  My lungs heaved as if I’d run a mile, but I still couldn’t get my breath. It wasn’t fair! All we’d been trying to do was get away from that creep Andrew and his friends. How could this be happening?

  Not breathing was bad, but not seeing made it worse. Much worse. I was lost in the dark, as if I’d gone blind. It might only have been a few moments, but each moment felt like forever.

  I couldn’t see my friends Faith and Olivia. Were they lost in this strange place with me? Or was I all alone?

  I waved my hands in front of my face, but couldn’t see them, either. Fear spread through me and leaked out in a long moan, like air escaping from a balloon. I felt it pass my lips, but couldn’t hear it. I wasn’t just blind. I was deaf.

  My heart raced, like it was trying to beat its way out of my chest. I’d never been this scared.

  So what can make you more frightened when you’re already terrified? Start falling, plummeting through space, when you can’t see where you’re going.

  This morning, the nightmare that woke me had seemed terrible. But compared to being in this place, it was no more than a stupid dream. I wished this were just a nightmare —then maybe I’d wake up.

  How could this day go so wrong?

  

  How could I have known it would be my worst day ever? Maybe the beginning should have been my first clue. I didn’t even make it out of bed before the day went wrong.

  My eyes popped open and I lay on my back, gasping like a fish. Tears were drying on my cheeks, leaving my skin itchy and tight. The dream had been really messed up, and I’d never been so glad to be awake.

  My two best friends, Faith and Olivia, said they were done — they couldn’t be friends with a kid anymore. They turned and left me, ignoring when I begged them to come back. I kept calling while they walked away. As they grew taller and older with every step they took.

  While I remained behind. Still twelve.

  Knowing it was a dream didn’t make it any better. My friends really were changing and I couldn’t do anything about it. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying not to feel hopeless. The weather certainly didn’t help. The pale January light barely reached into my room, turning the bright pink paint I loved as dull and gray as my mood.

  I sat up, scrubbing my hands over my face, and waited for my breathing to slow.

  I was still thinking about the dream while I staggered to the bathroom, only half-awake. Mom would say I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. But I just couldn’t see the doorframe in the gloomy light. That’s why I caught my toe and stumbled, smashing my elbow against the door.

  “Dang!”

  This day can’t get any worse. Can it?

  The sound of my mom’s voice calling me to breakfast answered that question. “Katherine Alice Taylor! Get down here. This. Minute.”

  Uh oh. Full name. How many times had she called me?

  Okay, so this day could get worse.

  “Coming!”

  I raced down the stairs, worried about why she’d been calling. This time, Mom would’ve been right — I wasn’t paying attention. Not good! I tripped halfway down the stairs and nearly took a header onto the living room rug.

  Note to self – Always pay attention going down stairs!

  “Super-OW-i-fragil-istic!” This time it was my knee that got smashed as I made a desperate grab for the handrail. At this rate, I‘d be too bruised for school. Although, that might not be such a bad thing. Maybe I could get excused for terminal klutziness. I almost laughed out loud when I pictured asking Mom to write that excuse for me.

  As if.

  With my knee throbbing in counterpoint to the ache in my elbow, I hobbled carefully down the rest of the steps. Man, I was glad my brother Christopher hadn’t seen me do that!

  Then I rounded the corner to the kitchen where only three places were set at the table. My steps slowed even further, and my legs felt like they’d turned to lead. Chris wouldn’t be at breakfast. He wouldn’t be teasing me, messing up my hair, or calling me a klutz.

  He was supposed to have returned from his honeymoon yesterday. Today he’d be in his new house. With his new wife. Not that I didn’t like Ronny — exactly — but she was the last of way too many changes.

  Why does everything keep changing?

  “There you are, Kat.” Mom sounded cross and I wasn’t sure why until she said, “I never have to get you out of bed, so I didn’t notice the time. Now you’re going to be late for school.”

  I glanced at the clock in disbelief, and my stomach felt like it had fallen off a cliff. I never overslept. How could it be so late?

  I mumbled, “Sorry, Mom.” I wished I could start this day over. I was going to get a tardy in homeroom. That totally sucked.

  My day didn’t get any better after that. Mrs. Wilson liked to make tardy students stand at their desk until she marked them down. And she always took a lo-o-o-ng time. I ground my teeth together knowing everyone would be staring at me while I waited. And waited.

  What a terrible morning! At least it can’t get any worse.

  I hate it when I’m wrong…

  Chapter 2

  Blood Sister Request

  In 1st period, our Science teacher, Mrs. Hernandez, started in about the year we were born. I know it probably doesn’t matter in most towns, but when you grow up in Santa Ramona, the year you’re born changes everything. That is, if you were born twelve years ago.

  “Okay class, settle down. Let’s discuss possible scientific reasons behind so-called strange events. Who wants to tell their favorite story about THE-STRANGEST-YEAR-EVER? Anyone? Come on, it should be exciting to be born during such a special year. No one? How about you, Kat. Tell us your favorite story.”

  Me? Was she kidding? I didn’t have a favorite T.S.Y.E. story!

  I’d listened to the town’s ridiculous stories my whole life. Over and over. Again and again. The way people talked about it, you’d think they’d all manag
ed to live through the ten plagues of Egypt or something.

  How many times had I heard about the entire town going crazy that year?

  How every rose in town withered and died one night.

  How dozens of people saw flocks of birds flying backwards.

  How the trees lost all their leaves the first day of every month for the entire year. Only to grow them all back a week later.

  And, depending on who was doing the telling, hundreds, or maybe thousands, of warty brown toads fell from the sky in the middle of Main Street. When the sky was cloudless and blue. Seven different times.

  It got so old.

  People kept talking about hundreds of strange events that supposedly happened that year. Too bad there weren’t any cell phone cameras back then. I might’ve believed some if there was any proof. Instead, I was sure most were I-made-up-a-weirder-one-than-you stories.

  I call all that talk having a TSYE — yeah, like tizzy. Mrs. Hernandez could just forget it!

  When I didn’t answer, she said, “You don’t have one? How about you, Olivia? Tell us your favorite story.”

  Why do they have to keep talking about it? I think everyone should just get over THE-STRANGEST-YEAR-EVER. Okay, so I’d never actually seen it written that way. But it’s how everyone said it. All-one-word. ALL CAPS.

  Was I excited to be born during such a ‘special year’? Heck no, I wasn’t excited. It was a total pain.

  

  On the way to 2nd period, Andrew Sawyer started in on Faith.

  Again.

  Andrew acted offended by her very existence. It didn’t make sense — she’d never done anything to him. But he took every chance he could to humiliate her.

  This time, he tripped Faith when she tried to pass him in the hall.

  Note to self — Avoid Andrew, no matter what.

  My muscles quivered with my desire to slap the nasty made-you-look-stupid grin right off his face. I might’ve done it, but it would just make Faith feel more unhappy. She thought Andrew would act worse if we did something to make him angry. I thought she was wrong — how could he get worse?

  Olivia agreed with me. She and Faith argued a lot about Andrew. So I wasn’t surprised when I heard Olivia’s teeth grinding together, so loud I expected them to break.

  Faith stumbled down the hall, taking a half dozen weird staggering steps to keep her balance. She didn’t fall, and she didn’t smash into the lockers like Andrew intended, but she looked pretty strange. The hallway rang with shouts of laughter. I was actually amazed she’d been able to stay on her feet. All those hours of soccer practice had paid off, so I wouldn’t be able to make fun of that anymore.

  Andrew laughed the loudest. “What a stork. I mean dork.”

  Andrew and his stupid jokes!

  Sure Faith’s legs grew a lot this year, and at times, like now, she looked all knees and elbows. And okay, those steps had looked weird. But no way did she look like a stork.

  Faith put her head down and pushed through the crowd that had gathered. When Olivia and I caught up with her, she was bent over the sink in the girl’s bathroom. It was the one place Andrew couldn’t get her.

  I stood there, feeling useless, as Faith rubbed her hands over her eyes, muttering, “No crying in school.”

  Olivia growled in frustration and kicked the trashcan once, hard enough to cause a metallic clang as it hit the tile wall. She chanted, “Andrew sucks. He really, really sucks!”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say. Not even a good line from a song or a movie. Finally, I muttered, “Good save. I’d’ve planted my face in Carly’s locker.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes at me and I glared back. It wasn’t that lame. Was it? Maybe I should say something else. Yeah…like what?

  The normally harsh buzz of the bell calling us to class had never sounded so good. Totally saved by the bell!

  We just made it, rushing in as the second bell rang. Turns out, we shouldn’t have bothered. Andrew might have been in his seat if we were late. Instead, the entire English class got to see him bump into Faith as she took her seat. Her backpack fell off her shoulder with a bang. At least people had to laugh a lot more quietly in here than they had in the hallway.

  Andrew gave her a disgustingly fake apology. “Gee Faith, I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice you there.” He smiled his mocking my-dentist-whitened-my-teeth-way-too-much smile. Then he widened his narrow brown I-am-such-a-great-liar eyes, and piled sarcasm on his voice so thick he should be choking on it.

  The teacher, Mr. Carter, bought it of course. Grown-ups always believed Andrew when he acted all goody-goody. I dug my nails into my palms. If I didn’t, I was afraid I’d jump to my feet and call Andrew a dirty rotten liar. Right in the middle of class.

  It was bad enough that everyone laughed at her. But after Faith scooped up her backpack and rummaged through it, she stared in misery at her pencils. They were all in jagged pieces.

  Too bad we sat on opposite sides of the room — I’d have given her one of mine. Instead, her red cheeks clashed horribly with her auburn hair as she made her way to the front of class to borrow a replacement from Mr. Carter.

  Andrew had been pretty mean that morning, but on the way to fourth period, he shoved Faith out of his way. He pushed hard enough to make sure she hit the lockers this time. He raised his voice so everyone in the hall could hear him, “Why is this stupid giraffe standing in the hallway like it belongs here?”

  Stupid giraffe? Faith isn’t that tall.

  Before the laughter could start, Olivia snorted. Loudly. “Why is this ugly hippo blocking the hallway? I’d like to get to class.”

  My palms began to sweat as Andrew’s face grew dark and tight. He glared murderously at Faith — Faith, not Olivia.

  Faith couldn’t miss that look in his eyes. She muttered, “I hate him!” as she lowered her head and pushed past him down the hall with Olivia and me on her heels.

  As we passed Andrew, he murmured, “Watch your back goin’ home. We’re not gonna let stupid giraffes wander around loose.”

  Getting picked on at school was bad enough. Now they were going to mess with us on the way home?

  Perfect.

  Hopefully the smile I gave Faith looked better on the outside than it felt on the inside. “Ignore him. Who cares what he says.”

  Okay, that really was lame.

  Faith shook her head, biting her lip, looking from Olivia to me. She rubbed her forehead like her head hurt. The defeated look on her face made my stomach ache. She lowered her hand and shook her head. “Forget it, okay.”

  Note to self — Do not say lame things to your friends.

  

  It was a minimum day. Normally that would be great. But now, I couldn’t get excited, not when Andrew would be waiting for us. Faith grew more and more nervous as we gathered our stuff to leave. Her hands shook so bad Olivia grabbed Faith’s backpack and shoved her books inside.

  Faith hung back when we left school. Her eyes searched warily, looking for Andrew. But we wouldn’t be able to see him until we stood right next to him. The weather had grown increasingly cold and miserable during the day. Now the wind picked up and whipped my hair into my eyes. Clouds pressed close to the ground, mixing with the thickening fog. How could we avoid him if we couldn’t see him?

  Faith grabbed her long curly hair. She dug the heels of her hands into her temples so hard her dark brown eyes pulled into narrow slits. “Help me! Keep me away from Andrew today!” She stared at us desperately.

  Olivia’s green eyes narrowed in frustration. “When’re we gonna stand up to him? That’s whatcha gotta do with a bully!”

  Faith clutched her hair so tightly I was afraid she was going to rip it out of her head. “Keep me away from him. Please. I’m asking as your Blood Sister!”

  That did it!

  Chapter 3

  All For One

  What do you remember best about being eight? I remember taking our Blood Sister oath, camped out in Faith’s backyard
, under a tent made of blankets. It still made me feel queasy.

  Now, people just call us The Three. But it started as The Three Musketeers, so long ago we couldn’t remember why. What I did remember was Olivia’s dad laughing when he heard about it. I got mad at him for laughing at us, but forgave him when he taught us, ‘All for one and one for all’. That sounded pretty cool.

  “It’s what firemen do,” he’d told us. “Olivia never has to worry — my guys and I are there for each other. If you girls are Three Musketeers, it should be your motto.”

  When you’re eight, taking a motto demands an appropriate ritual. We planned a secret ceremony, and created an oath to chant together. I still remembered every bit of it, but what I would never forget was the ‘blood’ part!

  Olivia brought a pin, I brought rubbing alcohol, and Faith supplied the campsite. After swishing the pin through alcohol, I jabbed it — carefully — into my finger. Too carefully. My finger burned where I’d stuck it, but no blood came out. Not one drop. No amount of squeezing helped.

  I couldn’t believe I had to stab myself a second time. Grosserific! And the second time stung even worse. No way was I ever doing that again!

  After watching my example, Olivia got a little too enthusiastic. Her finger actually dripped blood.

  Ugh!

  Faith was much better, quickly squeezing up a single drop of blood. She shook her head at Olivia, who was trying to keep hers from getting on her shirt. “Keep it off the blanket or Mom’ll kill me!”

  Olivia had rolled her eyes. “Then hurry up already.”

  The three of us stepped into a circle and touched our fingers together, chanting the motto we’d worked on all afternoon.

  “All for one and one for all,

  Blood Sisters will answer your call.

  This I promise, friend to friend,

  To stick together ‘til the end.