The Breaker's Promise (YA Urban Fantasy) (Fixed Points Book 2) Page 5

  “Perhaps,” Flora conceded, biting her lip. “Woody Allen was in the Matrix films, correct?”

  “Uh…sure,” I answered. “And it doesn’t matter. So what if you did flunk? It’s just a test.”

  “I disagree,” she answered, shaking her head fervently. “Our progress here determines our placement once we advance into Breaker life. It’s very important that I place well.”

  “You got a lot of pressure on you?” I asked, patting her back; suddenly feeling a little self-centered.

  “Life is about pressure. Pressure turns coal into diamonds. Pressure creates pearls in the depths of the ocean.”

  “Did you learn that in you ‘Introduction to Hallmark cards’ class?” I grinned.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she answered.

  “It’s not important,” I said. “I’m just saying that giving yourself a little bit of time to unwind might not be the worst idea in the world.”

  She smiled at me, nodding a little. “I appreciate the sentiment, Cresta. But I’m afraid my family would likely disagree with you. The Atrum line is one of oldest and most influential in all of the Hourglass. My bloodline has been influential in shaping the Breaker society as we know it today. In total we’ve had 14 Council members; including one that’s currently serving. So, their expectations are understandably high.”

  Listening to her, I couldn’t help but think of Owen, of the pressure I felt while surfing through his memories. Maybe this sort of self-inflicted tension was standard inside the Hourglass. Of course, after that my mind went to the most pressing revelation in Flora’s little diatribe.

  “Wait, you have a family member in the Council of Masons? Like, right now?”

  “I do,” she answered.

  “So, when I talk about the Council members who are perma-stalking me through Merrin’s eyes, I’m actually talking about-“

  “My uncle Jasper,” Flora answered. “Among others.”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered, pushing through the doors into the cafeteria. “No offense, but this doesn’t make me feel any better about you knowing my secret.”

  “None taken,” she smiled.

  As soon as I walked through the door of the cafeteria, my mouth started to water. I had skipped lunch in favor of studying for Dr. Static’s upcoming ‘Medical Sciences’ exam, and judging by the strong and delicious aroma, it was meatloaf night. So, of course, I couldn’t wait to grab a plate and dig in; that is, until I saw them.

  The cafeteria was loud and full. It was about seven o’clock; prime dinner time for Breakers. But, even given the throngs of people surrounding us, and the fact that he wasn’t sitting in his usual spot, I had no problem spotting Owen immediately. He sat with a plate in front of him. His fork was up in the air, letting a hunk of meatloaf dangle as he talked. Of course, Merrin was next to him. She wore a deep red flowery dress; which really pissed me off. Because, not only had she worn a different outfit each of the four times I had seen her today, she looked frustratingly flawless in all of them.

  I bristled a bit, like I always did when I saw them together. But it was what came next that really sent a dagger into me. Owen laughed, and not that fake laugh that he gives people when he’s trying to be polite or talk his way out of an awkward situation. This was the real laugh; the deep in his bones, Owen bearing laugh that lit my day up and made me feel worthy whenever I earned it. And maybe it shouldn’t have upset me the way it did. It made sense, I guess, that Owen and Merrin would have a connection. They had known each other a hell of a lot longer that Owen and I had, after all. And maybe having the Council behind her eyes didn’t make her automatically evil. But that wasn’t the point. That was my laugh; mine. And he was giving it to her.

  “You know what, I think I lost my appetite,” I said to Flora and backed out of the room. Owen must have seen me too, because I wasn’t three feet down the hall and his voice was in my head.

  Cresta, what’s wrong?

  I didn’t answer.

  Cresta, I know you can hear me. Just tell me what happened.

  I took a left, toward my room, and kept ignoring him.

  Cresta, you’re scaring me.

  I sighed. You can’t talk to me like this. What if she can sense it?

  She can’t, he answered, his ‘voice’ sounding much softer now.

  You don’t know that, I responded. I pushed into my bedroom and plopped down on the mattress.

  She doesn’t mean anything to me, Cresta.

  Don’t lie to me, I answered.

  Fine, she doesn’t mean what you think she means, he relented. She’s important to me Cresta. We shared a lot of our lives together. Of course I care about her. Of course I care about what happens to her. Do you want me to be the type of person who wouldn’t?

  The room was quiet and still. Staring up at the ceiling, I remembered last year; being locked in a room just like this, staring up at a ceiling just like this one. Did I ever really leave that place?

  I’m just tired of her winning all the time, I answered. She’s beautiful. She’s confident. She knows who she is, and her future belongs to her. The rest of us are being investigated and, for some reason, the Council rewards her. She always gets what she wants Owen.

  What are you saying?

  I swallowed hard, as if the words I was about to say were actually going to come from my mouth. We’re not the same, Owen. I know we’re both Breakers, but it’s different for me. We come from different worlds. And it’s not about you loving me. I know that you love me; really, I do. But how do you even know what love is? You spent most of your life believing that the person you belong with was going to be picked by some machine or whatever. And that person; she isn’t me. What if, in the end, you realize that it’s the Breaker life that you really need?

  I know what love is because you showed me, he answered. I could picture him, sitting next to Merrin in the cafeteria trying to keep a nonchalant smile on his face; making sure she didn’t suspect that anything was amiss. And if you think that what the Council did to Merrin was a reward, then you haven’t been paying attention. They’re in her head all the time, every day. She can’t have a minute to herself. Everything she sees, everything she hears; even her thoughts are recorded and combed over by the Council. She acts like it’s an honor because a piece of her has to believe it; because the Council looks at even that. But I promise, I know her well enough to know that she isn’t honored; not at all.

  I’m-

  Let me finish, he interrupted. And as for this other nonsense, if you think that there could ever come a day when I’d turn my back on you, that I’d want for a different life, then you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Genetics be damned. There is no one in the entire world more perfect for me than you. I don’t need a machine to tell me that; not that that’s how we do it anyway. I know we’ve spent a lot of time hiding the future, hiding each other. But that won’t last forever, Cresta. One day, the future will be here. It’ll be wide open for the whole world to see. And my future is you. Okay?

  Okay.

  Good, he answered. Now come get some food.

  Okay, I smiled. I started to stand, but something wouldn’t let me. It was as if all the energy poured out of me like running water, leaving my body heavy and useless. My eyes started to sting as water filled them. Was I tired? Maybe. I had certainly be up long enough to warrant a little fatigue, but this was something different. I tried to lift my arms. Too heavy. I tried to open my eyes. Impossible. What was happening to me? How does a person go from perfectly fine (if a little upset) one moment, to practically comatose the next? This had Breaker hijinks written all over it. Was it the Council? Had Merrin heard Owen’s conversation with me? Was the jig up, and this was some sort of insta-punishment?

  A warm calm crept over me. It filled my head with fog and, though I really tried to fight it, made me feel less stressed about the whole thing. Like a lullaby, the calm sang to me. It told my arms that I would be alright. It told my legs not to run, not
to move. It told my eyes that I had seen enough for now. And finally, it told my mind to sleep.

  The next thing I knew, I was standing. The calm was gone, and my body was mine again. The walls and ceiling of my room in Weathersby had been replaced with a long familiar road. I didn’t have to look at any of the buildings lining the street to know where I was. I had been on this street too many times to ever forget it. It was in my bones, a part of me.

  “Crestview,” I muttered, staring at the general store where Casper used to swipe packs of cherry cola flavored gum for me, at the parking lot of Desoto High, where I had spent too many afternoons watching Owen from the corner of my eye, at the side street that led down to the place where my house used to be. “This isn’t real.”

  I felt a presence beside me, a small figure resting on my right side. I turned, though something inside of me told me who I was going to find before I even saw her. And there she was, with her straight dark hair, pale, near translucent skin, and odd, pupil-less eyes. Wendy stood beside me, smiling and staring off into the distance.

  “I suppose real is all a matter of perception.”

  Chapter 6

  Mother’s Man

  This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. I was there when Wendy died. I watched her lasts breath, heard her last words. She couldn’t be standing here talking to me, not really.

  “You’re dead,” I said, looking at her.

  “Among other things, Cresta Karr,” she answered. Hearing her say my name like that, flat and matter -of-factly, the way she did in the days before her death, sent a pain of fresh hurt through me. “But I’ve come to believe that there are worse situations one might find themselves in.”

  A stiff breeze trickled down Main Street, sending Wendy’s bangs dancing across her smooth forehead. “You’re just a dream,” I said.

  “We are all someone’s dream, if we are lucky enough.” Her lips pursed together. “If not, we are their memory.”

  “Did you pull me in here somehow? Did you do something to me, Wendy?” A door opened, and Mr. Carter came shuffling out of the general store; a sausage dog in each hand.

  “Do you give a dead dream power over you, Cresta Karr? You will make a lacking Bloodmoon indeed.” She still wasn’t looking at me. Her clear, pupil-less eyes focused dead ahead. Suddenly, Main Street came to life. The coffee shop, the filling station, even the long closed cinemas opened up. People came pouring out them and filled the sidewalks. I recognized them all; my almost friends from Desoto High, the ladies from the Methodist church Women’s League, the old men who sat on benches all morning and talked about how there was never anything to do. “If this is a dream, show me the proof, Cresta Karr.”

  I bristled. “There is no proof. You can’t prove a dream is a dream, not when it looks as real as this.”

  Wendy shook her head. “When you look with your eyes, you shame your teachers. There are other ways for Breakers to see.”

  I sighed with the familiar frustration that I had only ever experienced when in Wendy’s’ fortune cookie speak’ presence. “Oh my God. Just once, would it kill you to be direct?”

  “Look for what does not exist. Look for what does not belong,” she answered.

  “You mean other than you?” I muttered. I scanned the area. Everything was the same as I remembered; dusty, dry, boring Crestview. The only thing that seemed different was the fact that, instead of being frustrated with this place, I actually sort of missed it.

  “Look for what never belonged,” Wendy said.

  The old stop signs were the same. The unpaved dirt lanes that fed off Main Street were unchanged. Even the people, down to their clothes, were exactly as I remembered them. That’s when I saw her; Mrs. Goolsby hobbling down the sidewalk with her walker in front of her and her oxygen bottle trailing behind, just as slow as she had ever been.

  But that wasn’t right. She had never been slow because she had never existed. Mrs. Goolsby was an illusion; a figment Owen created so that he could get close to me without drawing attention. “It’s her. It’s Mrs. Goolsby,” I said. Turning to Wendy, I found that she was gone. I ran toward Mrs. Goolsby. The old woman flinched when she saw me coming, and turned to run. Luckily, old women with walkers and breathing disorders don’t run very fast, even if they are just figments.

  I grabbed her and spun her around. Normally, I wouldn’t be so rough with senior citizens but, given that this was all fake anyway, I figured I might as well vent a little frustration. She was crying when I met her eyes. “It isn’t true,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. He wants it to be, but it just isn’t. Sebastian isn’t who he says he is.”

  “Who’s Sebastian?” I demanded. “I don’t know any Sebastian.”

  “You will,” she cried through gritted (and very likely false) teeth. “He has secrets. And everything changes after that.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked and, apparently venting a little too much frustration, started shaking her. “What does it mean?!”

  “The time hasn’t come for that yet.” Wendy was beside me again now. “And doing things out of order can leave everything in a mess. You don’t want things in a mess, do you?”

  “I want to know what’s going on,” I said, looking at Wendy. My hands were still on Mrs. Goolsby, but when I turned back to her, there was nothing but stuff; clothes, a walker, and an oxygen tank, but no Mrs. Goolsby. And I wondered if that was how it had always been. Had I looked at nothing, at stupid things and seen an old woman in their place?

  “You can’t know. No one can until they get where they’re going. You have to understand, the knowing is what makes it so dangerous,” Wendy answered.

  “Who are they? Where are they going?” I asked.

  Wendy pointed forward, toward the old sign that let you know you were leaving Crestview and told you to ‘Come back, should you get the itch to!’ A man stood by the sign. He was tall, probably middle aged, and sorta hot for an old guy. He had dark brown hair and a strong chin. And his eyes, swear to God, they were gray. “They are going where you need to be,” Wendy said.

  “Him?” I asked. “He’s just one guy.”

  “Some can be many if they choose to be,” she answered.

  Adding that to the list of things Wendy has said that I would never be able to understand, I asked. “Who is he?”

  “Mother’s man,” she answered. “It won’t end until you find him.”

  “Wendy I need more-“

  “There is no more,” she interrupted. “Not yet, not with the pieces start falling out of place.” There was a frustrated edge to her voice that didn’t mesh with my idea of Wendy; like she was fed up with me.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you about Casper,” I said.

  “That die is cast. That road is set. There is nothing left but to drive it.”

  “Cars drive on roads,” I said reflexively, thinking of Casper and what he used to say to me whenever things got tough.

  “They used to,” Wendy said, scolding me with her eyes.

  “Will they ever again?” I asked. I knew she wasn’t real. Wendy was dead, and this person standing next to me was just a product of my guilt and the stressing situation I had found myself in. But if she told me that, one day, there was even a chance that Casper and I would be together again, it would be enough to keep me going; whether she was a real seer or not.

  She stared at me a long time, her vacant eyes seeing whatever weird stuff it was that seers saw when they looked at you. She cleared her throat and, with dread in her voice, said, “Hey there Sunshine.”

  “What?” I asked. Heat rose in my face. “Just tell me! Tell me that I’ll see him again!”

  “The doctor searches. Find Mother’s man and it all falls away.”

  “I don’t care about Mother’s man. Just tell me about Casper. Please,” I begged.

  She leaned into me, pressing her hands against my chest. “Hey there Sunshine.” Then she pushed me. Hard. I fell back, but instead of the streets of Crestview, I fell onto my bed.


  “Sunshine,” Flora’s voice echoed in my ear. I looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  “Be visible,” I croaked. My throat felt raw and burned. My joints ached something fierce. “Now what did you say.

  “Sorry.” She came into view dressed in Breaker battle fatigues; a skintight black and white suit with accents of gold at the shoulders. She was holding a bottle of water in one hand, while her other traced her hair nervously. “It’s time to get up. You’ve been asleep for almost seventeen hours. Breakers get up with the Sunshine, especially today.”

  “Seventeen hours?” I moaned. “It’s tomorrow already?”

  Flora tilted her head. “I’m unsure of how to answer that question. Yes, it is the day after the one that you’re inquiring about. But, as we are currently living in it, tomorrow is technically…well, it is technically tomorrow.”

  I sat up, spasms of stiffness wrenching at my body. “Why’d you let me sleep for so long?”

  “Because I was unaware that your sleep patterns fell under my jurisdiction,” she answered flatly. “And you looked just plain adorable.” She gave me a crooked smile. “Who is Casper?”

  My heart jumped. “I was talking in my sleep?” I asked, as the pieces of my dream came floating back into my consciousness. Flora nodded. “He’s someone that I used to know.”

  “Someone from home?” Flora asked.

  I nodded. “He came with me here though; was here during the whole Allister Leeman thing.” My eyes flickered down to the bed. “He got freaked out though, not that I blame him. He left afterward. I have no idea where he is now.”

  Okay, so yes, I was lying to Flora. Knowing my secret was one thing, but the Council had asked about Casper’s whereabouts pretty immediately after that night in Crestview. And letting anyone, even Flora, know where he was or that I knew where he was might lead the Council to him. And I wasn’t about to risk that. Lord only knew what those crazies would do to him if they had the chance.