Read Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1) Online
Authors: Sarah Noffke
Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1)
One-Twenty-Six Press.
Awoken
Sarah Noffke
Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Noffke
All rights reserved
Copyeditor: Christine LePorte
Cover Design: Andrei Bat
All rights reserved. This was self-published by Sarah Noffke under One-Twenty-Six Press. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you are seeking permission send inquiry at
http: www.sarahnoffke.com
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Summary: Humans sleep at night unaware that an ancient evil man is preparing to steal their consciousness, but the person he needs to do it is the only one who can stop him.
Published in the United States by One-Twenty-Six Press
ISBN:
978-0-9862080-1-0
For Luke, because I wrote every one of these words hoping you’d like them.
Table of Contents
Prologue
T
he howling wind always marks his arrival. Tonight I’m not sleeping when it shakes the trees and sends debris flying around outside. The recurring nightmare woke me an hour ago. I wipe away the sweat beading my hairline and steal a glance out my window. The figure lurks in the shadows. He’s never any closer than the old oak tree, but that’s near enough. A chill shakes my core. I can’t do this one single night more. Shaking fingers scroll through my phone contacts until I find the right one.
“Hello,” a groggy voice says on the other end.
I speak in a whisper. “I’m not sure I believe what’s happening, but I’m ready to let them protect me.”
“Good,” the voice says with relief. “You’ll be glad you did.”
“What do I do now?”
“They want you to meet someone. He’ll explain what happens next.”
Chapter One
Forty-eight hours later
I
wouldn’t believe any of this was real if it wasn’t for the two-inch gash in my arm. Still, denial has rented a room in my head and frequently stomps around slamming doors. I have never considered myself normal, but only now do I fully realize how extremely abnormal I am. That’s not the part I’m denying anymore. It’s my potential fate.
Now I have to do the one thing that feels impossible: focus. It’s difficult when my life has quickly turned into a mass of confusion. I force myself to shake off the distractions. The answers I seek reside in a place I can only get to if I let go.
With immense effort, I relax enough to concentrate. In my head, I see the dam. The concrete stretches out like a barrier, pushing the water away. I pay attention to the water, how it voyages down the spillway. Slow breaths intensify the meditation, giving it color and sound. I continue to visualize until I sense the change. It’s polarizing, in a good way. My body remains planted in the comfy bed while my consciousness dream travels. Now I’m racing through the silver tunnel—my transport to the other dimension. Adrenaline tastes like salt water in my mouth. And too quickly the journey is over, leaving me panting as I’m tossed into a vast space.
The tunnel deposits me at the edge of the spillway on a concrete embankment. A cursory glance behind reveals a calm lake reservoir; ahead the spillway plummets for a hundred feet or more before cascading into the lake. The moon overhead is full. Beside me is a woman.
“I was beginning to think you were lost again,” she says.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I say.
“I assumed you already knew my name.”
Apparently the Lucidites don’t believe in greetings. “Well, some ID wouldn’t hurt.”
Shuman’s black hair resembles strands of silk. She wears a leather vest and blue jeans. I straighten, feeling smaller than usual next to her.
“Did you decipher the riddle on your own?” Shuman says, ignoring my comment. The moon reflects off her high cheekbones, making her appear angular.
“No,” I admit, “Bob and Steve helped.”
I’m confused why Shuman gave me a riddle instead of just telling me where to dream travel to meet her. I guess as the Head Mentalist for the Lucidites she has to make everything as perplexing as possible. She must be great at her job.
“Yes, it was forecast that they would assist you,” she says.
“Right, of course,” I say, not masking the irritation in my voice. It isn’t Bob’s and Steve’s help I resent, it’s that the Lucidites are privy to my life through psychic means.
“And we are here because of a different prediction.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about it.”
“Have you also heard that it involves you?”
“Well, I know there’s a
potential
I’ll be involved.”
“We have new information. Your name is the only one in the forecast now.”
“What?” I breathe with quiet disbelief. “No, that’s impossible.”
“It is possible and I assure you it is true. The speculation of predictions solidifies as the approaching event draws closer. Now forecasters see you as the true challenger.”
“No,” I say too fast, denial evident in my tone. “And I’m not here because of the forecast; I’m here because they said you’d help me.”
“They are correct. The first way I can help is by getting you to accept what has been predicted.”
“Predictions are just guesses though. What if they’re wrong?” I say.
Shuman raises her eyebrow in disapproval, shakes her head. “Roya, do you doubt it because it involves you?”
“Mostly I doubt it because it’s absurd. None of it makes sense.”
“Maybe not yet, but it will,” Shuman says. “Unfortunately we are running out of time. The forecasters have determined the static moment to be twenty-one hundred hours on June thirteenth.”
That’s in a month.
My throat closes and my chest shrinks in on itself. “What? I can’t…There’s no way…” I trail off, lost in morbid thoughts of my impending death. “Why not you or someone else more qualified?”
“If I was chosen I would be honored, but I was not. You were.” Shuman gazes at the full moon, her silver earrings highlighted by its white light. “I have tracked Zhuang for decades without success. Many of us have.” She turns and looks at me for the first time. Her dark eyes resemble amethysts. “This fixed point in time is the only chance anyone will have the opportunity to challenge him. And the forecast states you are the person with the best opportunity to end his brutal reign.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not a threat to anyone.”
“A few days ago you saw yourself very differently than you do now, is that right?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then consider it possible that in a month you will be a deadly force.”
After what I’ve learned, I’m almost willing to believe this might be true. I sigh. “So what do you really want from me?” I ask.
“Make a choice,” Shuman says at once. “You must decide whether you accept this role. If you do, then I can give you the help you asked for.”
“If everything you’ve said is true then I
don’t
have a choice.”
“It is all true,” she says through clenched teeth. “And in waking life and dreams, you
always
have a choice. This is what makes Dream Travelers different from Middlings. We do not sleep and fall into dreams that happen to us. We create our dreams. We choose where we travel.”
I rub my eyes, frustrated and strangely tired. “It’s just facing Zhuang sounds like a death sentence. I don’t want to go through all this just to die in June.”
“If you make the choice to be the challenger then you will face many dangers. You may not even make it to June. You may die tonight.” Shuman’s face lacks any compassion.
“If you’re trying to convince me to do this then you’re not doing a very good job,” I say.
Shuman stares at the moon for a minute as if she’s calculating something. “I will need your answer.”
“What? Now!?” My voice echoes over the spillway. “Just like that? I don’t get a minute to think it over or go home and weigh out my options?”
“You do not have a home,” she reminds.
My foot connects with the concrete curb in front of me. I want to throw an all-out tantrum. Running and hiding also sounds like a good idea. Shuman’s oppressive demeanor, indifferent to my predicament, makes it tough to think. I wait for her to say something, but she just stands motionless watching the moon. She’s starting to creep me out.
“What’s going to happen to my family?” I ask, the last word sounding strange as it tumbles out of my mouth.
“I suspect Zhuang will maintain his hold on them, but who he really wants is you,” Shuman says indifferently. “Your family is officially classified as hallucinators. He has the ability to keep them like this for a long time. Or he could finish them rather quickly.”