Katana (37 page)

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Authors: Cole Gibsen

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Katana
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“You!” I cried, sliding my legs back into ready position and bringing my arms up to fight. “You better have a good explanation for being here!”

Dr. Wendell’s eyes grew large as he took a step back. “Kim, a little help?”

Kim slid an arm around my waist, anchoring me in place. “Relax, Rileigh.”

“Relax?” I thrashed against him until he was forced to secure his other arm around me as well. “How can I relax, Kim? This guy is a Noppera-bō!”

“Noppera-bō?” Dr. Wendell smiled. “I’m afraid you have it all wrong, Rileigh. I work for the Network.”

I looked to Kim for confirmation and he nodded, letting his arms slide free of my waist. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked Kim.

“I didn’t know until we arrived here with you,” he answered.

I felt sick to my stomach. If Dr. Wendell worked for the Network, then what did that mean for my mom? Was he even interested? Or were the dinners and flowers just an excuse to get closer to me?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” Dr. Wendell said. “My objective was classified until we flushed the Noppera-bō out.”

“Your
objective?”
I said.

He smiled. “As your handler. I’ve been assigned to train you in your new position with the Network.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t remember
accepting
a position with the Network.”

“Er, well … ” Dr. Wendell dropped his gaze to his clipboard. “Of course you’ll want to join. The Network is an elite organization. Only the best of the best are employed.” When I remained silent his voice took on a pleading quality. “With your skills, think of all the evil you can stop.”

“Right now I’m only thinking about making sure my mom is okay, finding a place to stay, and finishing my senior year.” I folded my arms.

Dr. Wendell looked to Kim. “Talk some sense into her. You were her superior once—
order
her if you have to.”

Kim snorted. “I led our band of samurai with trust and respect. If my troops are so unwilling to do something that I am forced to use orders, then I have failed as a leader.”

“This is ridiculous.” Dr. Wendell turned back to me. “You can’t be seriously considering turning down a position with us.”

Kim chuckled. “Rileigh is
always
serious.”

Dr. Wendell threw his arms in the air. “You know what? Let’s not worry about the Network right now. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, so let’s do a quick examination to make sure everything checks out.”

“Sure thing.” I thought about how happy my mom seemed lately. If Dr. Wendell was only using her, well, I’d make his life miserable—starting now. “As long as you don’t touch me.”

Dr. Wendell tossed his clipboard into the air and left the room with his shoulders hunched, muttering obscenities under his breath.

Even after getting rejected, the Network was kind enough to provide me with new jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and tennis shoes for my departure, which was a good thing considering all of my clothes were ash. My emotions were stretched in a game of tug-of-war where part of me wanted to mourn the loss of my shoe collection while the other half thought the idea of crying over footwear was ridiculous. Clearly, even after transcending, I had some issues to work out.

Quentin’s parents agreed to let me stay with them until Debbie and I found a new place to live. I’d spoken to her briefly on Quentin’s cell phone and he was right: she was a mess of sobs and shrieks. Debbie may never be in the running for mother of the year, but she was all I had, and I loved her. Her hotel was my next destination after I made one final stop.

I nudged open the door, which led into another futuristic hospital room, identical to the one I left. Michelle looked up from talking with Braden and met my eyes. Her smile illuminated the already painfully vivid room. “Rileigh!” Her voice sounded like a cat had clawed its way up her throat.

Braden stood from the chair by her bed. “Hey, Rileigh.” His smile was etched with pain. I understood. You could never be truly happy when the person you loved lay in a hospital, especially a secret underground government hospital. “I think I’ll grab a soda. Be right back.”

I nodded as he passed me by on his way out the door.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Michelle said. “Is it true? Did you really transcend?”

“Let’s see.” I walked over to her side and sat in Braden’s abandoned chair. “Yorimichi.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. “You composed haiku on parchment you kept under your sleeping mat.”

Her eyes widened. “You knew about that?”

“Braden—who used to be Kiyomori—had a scar on his right shoulder from the time Lord Toyotomi’s monkey bit him.”

Michelle giggled. “He hated that monkey. He’s got a birthmark on his arm where it happened.”

“And then there’s Drew, otherwise known as Seiko.” I smiled. “He would celebrate each victory with sake.”

Michelle clapped her hands together. “He still does!” She leaned her head against her pillow as if drained from her burst of excitement, bringing back the image to my mind of her lying motionless on my couch.

I shivered and tried to mask the movement by reaching for her hand. It felt cool and sticky, like a lump of sushi rolled in seaweed. “How are you feeling?”

Michelle frowned and closed her eyes. “Well, they say I lost a lot of blood, but I’m still alive, so that’s saying something.” She gave my hand a weak squeeze before sliding it under the sheets. “I don’t … it’s just hard to talk about, you know?”

I nodded, even though her eyes stayed closed.

Michelle cracked open an eye. “Is everything all right with you? You seem … I don’t know, quiet.”

I shrugged and stood up. “I guess. I just thought that when I transcended, I wouldn’t still feel at conflict with myself. I thought I’d either be taken over completely by Senshi or I’d get rid of her all together. But instead, the old me has been thrown together with the new me and they’re not mixing so well, you know? Like oil and water.”

Michelle opened both eyes and smiled. “We’ve all been there. I can only tell you that it’ll get easier.”

I sighed. “That’s a relief. It’s not easy having two conflicting thoughts going on in my head at the same time. So how does it happen? Do I just have to give it time?”

“No.” She yawned and sank back into her pillow, closing her eyes. “You have to choose.”

“Choose what?”

“Who you want to be.”

I grunted. “Choose who I want to be? I’m seventeen. Even if I didn’t have the memories of a past life, I still wouldn’t know that.”

Michelle answered, and the words were long and low, pulled down by the sleep sucking her in. “I never said it would be easy.”

“It never is,” I murmured back, knowing she was too far gone to hear. I gave her a quick hug before leaving the room. I knew it would be difficult figuring out how to balance my senior year with my life as a samurai. But it wasn’t impossible. Between homework assignments and past-life memories, dojos and skate parks, swords and lip gloss, I would find myself. As Lord Toyotomi always said, “A journey is just a walk without a destination in mind.”

I smiled as I followed the neon exit signs through a maze of white corridors. It amazed me how easily the memories now came. How they sprouted like seeds inside my mind, growing into something I could almost brush my fingers across.

I turned another corner and stopped when I saw Kim waiting at the end of the hall. It still felt like a dream. He grinned and my pulse fluttered, reminding me that it wasn’t. I walked up to him and slid my hand inside of his waiting one. It felt like I’d been gone forever and I’d finally made it home. It didn’t matter that my house was burned, that my things were ash. What mattered most was that we were together, even if it did take a lifetime.

Kim raised an eyebrow, as if trying to read my thoughts. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

He pushed the steel door open with his shoulder, but waited for me to go first. I kept hold of his hand as I crossed in front of him and stepped outside—where my new life waited.

The End.

Photo by Kyle Weber

About the Author

When Cole Gibsen isn’t writing she can be found shaking her booty in a zumba class, picking off her nail polish, or drinking straight from the jug (when no one is looking). Cole currently resides in the Greater St. Louis area with her husband, daughter, and one very cranky border collie.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Information

Dedication

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About the Author

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