Rua (Rua, book 1) (2 page)

As she landed, the shape abruptly collapsed into a large ball and raced down the street under the pavement.

She sprang up as quickly as she could.

The black lump sped down the road, the round shape flattening like a rolled piece of dough, turning almost seamlessly into wings. Her backpack slid off her now slack shoulder as a giant black bird flew out of the pavement.

She screamed.

Chapter 2

She snapped her mouth shut, but it was too late. Up and down the street, curtains moved and doors opened as people investigated the screeching noise she’d just made. A tiny black dot in the sky was all that was left of the flying pavement bird thingy.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” the owner of the lawn called out from her front porch. She shaded her eyes with her hands and peered into the sky where Celeste had been staring a moment before.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I, um, thought I saw a scorpion.” Celeste brushed the leaves and twigs off her backside. Her butt was wet and muddy, and she was standing in front of stranger’s house.
Great.

“A scorpion, hon? You won’t find any of those around here. Are you okay? Do you need a ride home? Can I call your mom for you?” She moved off her porch into the front lawn. Her eyes were big, brown, and kind.

“No thanks. I’m okay. I’m afraid of bugs, that’s all.” She picked up her backpack. “I’m only half a mile down the road. I’m fine. Thanks.”

“How about a glass of water?” The lady moved forward again. She still looked worried.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“What is going on here?” Miss Perfect stood on the porch, behind the woman. Oh. This was her house. The nice woman on the lawn was her mom.

“Oh, you.” Her eyes swept up and down Celeste.

“Jennifer! Watch your tone,” the woman said. She took another step in Celeste’s direction.

“Um, I better go. Thanks.” Celeste turned away as confidently as she could with her butt smeared with mud.

“Loser,” Jennifer said as she walked away.

Celeste didn’t catch the mother’s sharp retort because she was staring at the pavement again. It looked normal; some potholes, some unevenness, but normal. What the hell had just happened?

She shook it off and walked as fast as she could. The pale green craftsman bungalow she now called home soon appeared.

The smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies greeted her as she walked in.

“Mom?”

“In the kitchen.” She waited for Celeste with a cookie wrapped in a paper towel. “Careful. It’s super gooey and hot.” She passed off the warm cookie.

“Just the way I like it.” Celeste threw her backpack on the floor and plopped herself down on one of the barstools, belatedly remembering the mud covering the back of her jeans.

“So, tell me. How was your first day?” Her mother returned to her task of rolling the cookie dough into balls and placing them on a cookie sheet.

“Not so bad, I guess.”

“Okay. In teenager talk that means…?”

“Fine.” Celeste stared at the melted chocolate chips in her cookie. There was something weird about them. She brought the cookie near her face. The melted chocolate chips were all different sizes, but they had the same shape: a bird in flight.

The cookie hit the wood floor with a light thunk.

“Celeste!” Her mom tossed her spoon in the sink before walking around the counter. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

Celeste dropped to her knees and scooped the cookie into a napkin. “Sorry.” She stared at the tan and brown mass in her hand. The chips didn’t look like birds anymore, making her feel better.

A light touch on her shoulder. “Honey, are you all right?” Her mother crouched next to her.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“How did that mud get on your jeans?”

“I fell on my way home from school. Stupid mistake.” She stood.

Her mom stood too then took the mash of cookies and napkin out of Celeste’s hand. “What happened there? Do you feel sick?” She placed her cool, brown hand on Celeste’s forehead. “Well, you feel all right.”

“I’m fine, really.” She ducked out of her mom’s touch. She hovered over the counter, afraid to look at the cookies cooling on the wax paper. She closed her eyes, counted to three, and opened them.

The cookies were normal. Nice and gooey looking, with no bird shapes.

“What’s wrong? Did the cookie taste bad?” her mom asked. She flicked a long braid out of her face. “Speak to me, kiddo.”

Celeste stared at her mother. She was beautiful; smooth brown skin, waist-length braids, and large dark eyes. Her parents had adopted Celeste when she was just a baby. Why they’d chosen a pasty, red-headed girl was beyond her, but she was sure glad they did.

“I think I’m just tired, really tired.”

Her mother’s face relaxed into sympathy. “I bet you are. It’s hard to sleep in a new home, but soon everything will be familiar.”

Celeste returned to her bar stool, paper towel in hand to clean up her mess. Her mom placed a glass of water in front of her before returning her attention to the cookies.

“We probably should stop moving, let you put down some roots. Let you make some friends.”

Celeste forced a half smile. “Oh, come on. I’m almost seventeen and now you’re worried about my ability to make friends and put down some roots?”

“You know what I’m saying. This isn’t fair to you. Your dad’s company has moved us around so much and we just go and go and go.”

“I’m okay, Mom. School wasn’t so bad. I think I already made a friend.”

“You did? Tell me all about it.”

“After I change,” she said.

***

It was dark outside, and Celeste was in her room. Dinner was over, dishes were washed, and all was quiet except for the faint sounds of a TV on somewhere in the house.

She felt the dark night outside calling out to her. She propped open the window and leaned out into the cool air.

Her cell phone beeped back in her room. It was a text message from Tink.
Don’t wear purple tomorrow. I will effin’ kill you if you do because it will ruin my look.

She texted him back.
No worries. I’m too cool for purple anyways.

She tossed the phone aside and climbed into bed. She turned off the light and pulled the black comforter up to her chin. Light from outside her window crept across the ceiling. She stared at the shapes the shadows made, hoping one wouldn’t morph into a bird or anything else weird.

A shaft of yellow light split her comforter in half.

“Celeste, are you awake?” Her mom stood in the doorway.

“I am now.”

She clucked her tongue and shut the door behind her. “It’s cold in here.” She hugged herself. “Is your window open, child?” She shut it.

“Hey. I liked it open,” Celeste mumbled from her bed.

Her mom sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hand on Celeste’s face. “You have always liked nighttime. When you were little, you always used to ask to go outside when it got dark.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak.” She wrapped a curl of Celeste’s red hair around her finger, something she’d done for as long as Celeste could remember. “You okay? How are you really doing with all this moving around?”

“I’m okay, really. I’m fine. I make my adjustments, make my friends, then go on my way. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” She tucked a curl behind Celeste’s ear.

“When is Dad getting back?”

Even in the dark, Celeste saw her mother’s face brighten at the mention of her husband of twenty years.

“Well, I just got off the phone with him. I would’ve let you talk to him if I had known you were still up. He’ll be back from China soon. He’ll be here for sure for your birthday.”

“Cool.”

The room grew quiet. Her mother sat there, breathing evenly, but not saying a word. Celeste sighed and rolled over so she faced her mom. “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

“Okay, baby. I just want you to be happy.”

“I know. I’d be really happy if I could get some sleep.”

“Okay.” One more gentle pat on the cheek, and she was gone.

Alone in the dark, Celeste felt better.

***

She stood in the middle of the street. Her house was a few blocks away, a gray shadow in the night. Moon-lit clouds painted wispy shapes in the black sky.

It was so quiet, almost too quiet. All the houses and streetlights were dark. No cars were parked in the narrow driveways or on the street. There was no traffic.

Where is everyone? How did I get here?

An unnatural, multi-directional wind mussed her waist-length hair, sending it billowing around her.

The ground trembled beneath her feet. The pavement below her began to form bumps under the surface, pulsing in strange rhythmic waves. She yelped in fear before running to the sidewalk.

The ground surged its black tar, morphing to fill the street with strange humanoid shapes. They moved in all different directions, surging and twisting around each other.

She screamed and backed up. She was in Jennifer’s yard again. She pounded on the front door. “Please, let me in!” She thudded and thudded, but there was no response.

She turned back to the street. The humanoid shapes were all still there, some short, some tall. Except now, they weren’t twisting and turning. They were all perfectly still, facing her.

She ran down the street, looking for an escape. The shapes, in perfect unison, turned to face her as she moved.

She stopped on the sidewalk. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and counted to ten.
I must be dreaming. I must be dreaming. I must be dreaming.
She repeated her mantra out loud.

She opened her eyes. The shapes were still in the street, still watching her.

“Mom? Dad? Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear me?” She was crying now.

A figure stood in front of her house. His face was obscured by the night. She walked to him. The humanoids tracked her movement with their featureless faces. As she approached, she recognized him: Rylan.

“Rylan? What are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds issued from his lips.

She was near him now. “Rylan. I can’t hear you. I can’t understand you.”

Veins bulged from his forehead. He gestured wildly. He was screaming, even though he was mute. He pointed to something behind her.

She spun around. A huge, black bird flew in her direction, coasting a few feet above the ground. The bird dwarfed her with its massive size. It moved closer and closer, and as it did, the shapes in the street advanced around her. The darkness closed in on her. Rylan was gone, and she was alone.

The sound of her own screaming woke her up. Apparently, it’d woken her mom as well.

“Celeste?” She ran through the doorway, braids and white nightgown flying. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She sat up in bed and wiped a shaky hand across her forehead.

Her mother sat on the edge of the bed. “Nightmare? You were screaming like crazy.”

“Yes. It was one of the nightmares where you are aware you’re dreaming because it can’t be real, but you can’t wake up, you know?” She stared at her shaky, white, hands.

“Do you remember it?”

“Not really. Something with giant birds in it or something.” The lie came easily. She was losing her damn mind, but it’d probably be best if she kept her crazy to herself for the moment.

“Giant bird, eh? That’s weird.” She patted Celeste’s hand. “Come downstairs and have some tea. I ordered it from Sri Lanka. It’ll help you relax.”

“All right.” Celeste flicked on the light and pushed her feet into her slippers. She followed her mother’s slight frame to the kitchen.

Her mother pulled out the battered red teapot, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove. A few minutes later, Celeste wrapped her hands around the warm tea. It smelled like lemons.

Her mom sat opposite from her, watching her as she drank. “Your nightmares are getting worse.”

Celeste shrugged and stared into her the pale yellow tea.

“What are your other nightmares about?”

“I don’t know. I wake up knowing I had a scary dream, but I don’t remember what it was.” Celeste shook her red curls.

Her mom carried her tea over to the sink. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I remember having vivid dreams when I was a teenage girl. Probably all the hormones.” She jerked her head in the direction of the back of the house. “Back to bed with you.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Celeste returned to her room and hopped back in bed. The dark was comforting, but not as safe as it normally made her feel. She wrapped herself up in her blankets and shut her eyes. She was determined not to think of anything weird, so she let her mind wander. It flitted over the school, Tink, and Rylan. Rylan with his green eyes, his smile, and his pointed questions. Rylan, who’d made appearances in otherwise frightening dreams. Rylan, who’d started school just a few weeks before she did.

Who was Rylan? And why couldn’t she get him out of her head?

Chapter 3

She woke when the bright light from her window hit her bed. “Ugh.” She headed to the shower. Thirty minutes later, after the obligatory peck on the cheek from her mom, she set out to school on foot.

She walked in the road instead of the sidewalk, staring at the pavement as she went. It looked normal.

A loud double honk pulled her out of her intense pavement inspection.

“Hey, pretty lady. Whatcha’ looking at?” Tink idled next to her in his car, window down, elbow jutting out the window, big smile on his face.

“Hey yourself.”

“Get in, sister. I’ve got some candy for you.” He punctuated his invitation with an exaggerated evil laugh.

She snickered. “Mister, I don’t think you have the kind of candy I like.” She got in the passenger side.

“Yeah, I think I do.” He reached behind him to extract a box from the backseat and opened it. “See? Doughnuts with sprinkles. Who doesn’t like sprinkles? They’re so happy-looking.”

“Hmm. Tasty.” She grabbed a doughnut.

“What kind of candy did you think I was offering, you nasty girl?”