Death's Awakening (Eternal Sorrows, #1) Read online

  The man collapsed, then his body began to convulse.

  Parrish’s eyes grew wide with fear. She took a step toward the man, but Noah reached out and locked his hand around her wrist.

  “Don’t,” he said. His mouth was tense and his grip was firm. Serious. It scared her. With his free hand, he pulled his cell phone from his jeans. “I’m going to call an ambulance.”

  She shook her head and looked back toward the man. “Shouldn’t we try to help him?”

  Noah released her wrist. “I don’t think you should go anywhere near him,” he said. He glanced toward her house. “Go inside. Stay away from anyone who looks sick.”

  The image of the woman near the shrimp bowl flashed through Parrish’s mind. She swallowed hard. “What’s going on?”

  Noah shook his head. “I’m not sure, but—” His words broke off and he put his mouth against his phone. “Yes, a man collapsed in front of my house and I think he’s having some kind of seizure.” He paused, then gave the address for Parrish’s house.

  Parrish backed away, but didn’t go inside. What the hell was going on?

  Noah’s dad was some kind of doctor, right? Was something going around? She crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited, but as soon as Noah hung up the phone, he made another call.

  “Dad?”

  That was all she heard before Noah sprinted toward the sick man. His body had stopped convulsing, but she couldn’t tell if he was still breathing or not. Fear pulsed through her like fire and she tapped her toes impatiently on the grass.

  Soon, the wail of sirens sounded in the distance.

  As the ambulance pulled up, Zoe’s music stopped and the guests from the party poured on to the front porch.

  “What’s going on?” her father asked, coming up by her side.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “This man, he just appeared out of nowhere. He’s really sick.”

  Her father took off in a sprint toward the man’s body, but Noah lifted his hand to her dad’s chest and said something Parrish couldn’t make out. Her father turned to look back at his guests, his face gone white as a sheet. He nodded at whatever Noah was saying, then jogged back toward the porch and started telling everyone to stay back.

  Parrish moved toward the shadows again, watching as the paramedics placed the man on a white-sheeted gurney and lifted him into the ambulance. They were wearing masks and for some reason, the sight of it mixed with the fear in Noah’s eyes kept her up for the rest of the night, unable to sleep.

  Noah

  Noah stood in the kitchen and stared at the door to the basement.

  He cracked open a can of soda and downed half of it without taking his eye off the door. What had his dad been doing down there this whole time?

  He’d been in that stupid basement for twelve hours straight without a break. Noah hadn’t even seen him come up to grab food or a shower or anything. Last night when Noah called to tell him about the man on the street, his dad had rushed home like a maniac. He’d pulled one of the paramedics aside and convinced him to let him take some samples from the sick man.

  Noah had never seen his dad do something like that. It was weird. Paranoid.

  His dad had put on a mask, then spent about five minutes in the ambulance with the sick man before finally coming out with a bag full of who-knows-what. He’d barely said two words to Noah. He’d just pointed toward the house and told him to stay put. That’s when he disappeared into the basement.

  Noah hadn’t seen him since.

  He downed the rest of his drink, then set it down on the counter.

  He took two steps toward the basement door, then stopped. He ran a hand through his hair. Crap. He wasn’t allowed down there. How many times had his dad lectured him about it?

  Any time he was working down there meant he needed peace and quiet and a sterile environment. Noah knew that.

  But he hated not knowing what was going on. Was this virus really that dangerous?

  His dad always got over-excited about new strains and potentially deadly viruses, but there was also some level of caution, too. He was trained to stay calm even in the face of the worst kinds of disasters. The last thing the CDC needed was for one of their own doctors to start freaking out and telling everyone the world was ending.

  Speeding up to an ambulance and demanding tissue samples or whatever was definitely not in the CDC handbook of things that were okay to do.

  So why would he do it?

  Noah had been up half the night thinking about it. He’d been sitting here in the kitchen for hours just waiting for his dad to come out. It was driving him insane.

  He needed a break from staring at that damn door wondering what on earth had his dad so spooked. He opened the kitchen trashcan and looked inside. Half-full. Good enough.

  He lifted the bag and tied it off, then opened the garage door and stepped outside.

  The afternoon sun was bright and warm. He stood there for a moment and let the heat sink into his skin. Maybe he’d take the car and drive out to the lake later when it cooled off some. He could use a good run. This whole thing had him freaked out.

  He walked to the other side of the driveway, opened the lid to the large trash can and stuffed the bag inside, then wheeled the whole thing out to the curb. The trash didn’t come until tomorrow, but it wouldn’t hurt to get it out too early.

  He couldn’t help but glance across the street. The spot where the man had collapsed looked the same as it did every other day, but the whole place felt different. Scary. It was one thing when his dad said there was a new virus he was researching. It was something else entirely when Noah saw that virus in full effect right here in his own front yard.

  He had to assume that was what this was all about. Why else would his dad have gone so crazy?

  In the driveway across the street, six suitcases of different sizes were piled up behind the Sorrows’ SUV. Probably Zoe and her dad getting ready to fly out for her music tour. The kid really was talented, but he’d enjoyed talking to Parrish more than listening to her sister play the violin.

  And she’d actually talked to him some last night. He’d come so close to asking her out. And he would have if it wasn’t for the sick guy.

  Noah kept one eye on the Sorrows house as he moved the rest of the trash cans to the curb. He wanted to see her. He’d just run off last night without even saying goodnight. She was probably just as freaked out as he was.

  There was something so strangely intoxicating about her. She was so different from any girl he’d ever known. All the girls at school were the same. They talked about the same things. Wore the same kinds of clothes. And they always agreed with him. Half the time he didn’t even think they were really listening to him.

  But Parrish wasn’t like that.

  The door inside their garage opened and his heart jumped. He squinted against the sun, trying to act casual as he rearranged the cans.

  It was just Mr. Sorrows, Parrish’s dad. He set two more heavy bags down beside the others, then stared at them, counting on his fingers.

  Noah turned away and headed back down his driveway. He spotted his basketball in the grass next to the pavement and scooped it up. He tossed it toward the hoop over the garage and it swished right through. The ball bounced once before he grabbed it up again and dribbled it against the white cement of the driveway.

  Across the street, Mrs. Sorrows joined her husband. He couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but it was obvious they were arguing over something. As usual. Man, those people were always fighting. He could hear them from here. Something about Zoe’s violin. It was always something about Zoe. They seemed so proud of her, but at the same time, her success really seemed to stress them out all the time.

  He tossed the ball through the hoop a couple more times, never missing. He concentrated on the sound of the ball pounding against the pavement. He dribbled twice moving further from the goal before taking his shot. Even from here, though, the ball passed easily through the h
oop on the first try.

  The garage door across the street slammed so loud Noah couldn’t help but look over. Mrs. Sorrows was gone. Her husband had a sour look plastered on his face. He kicked at the one of the suitcases and went to punch the side of the car, but stopped just short, his fist still balled up tight.

  Mr. Sorrows shook his head and walked around the side of the house. He threw a quick glance back toward the garage, then stepped into the shadows under a large tree. He leaned over and grabbed something from between the bushes on the side of the house.

  Noah squinted to see what the guy was doing. A couple sparks, then a flame. Then smoke. Mr. Sorrows stepped back into the light for just a second and Noah saw the cigarette in his hand and laughed. He couldn’t blame him.

  He jogged out a few extra steps, then bounced and turned, lobbing the ball toward the hoop with one hand. Twenty consecutive shots and not a single miss. Way better than normal. He was really on a roll here. Too bad no one was here to see it.

  He glanced back toward the house across the street. Something in an upstairs window glinted in the sunlight and he looked up. Parrish stood in the window, staring down at him. Their eyes met across the distance and his already racing heart jumped.

  He lifted a hand in a half-wave and smiled, but she didn’t react at all. No wave. No smile. She just turned away, letting the white curtain fall back across the window.

  He stood there for a beat longer than he should have, just staring up at the space she used to occupy.

  What was it with that girl? He thought maybe after their talk last night, she’d open up to him a little more. He thought maybe he’d finally pierced through that hard outer shell she liked to keep around herself. What was it going to take to get closer to her?

  Noah shook his head and tossed the basketball at the hoop one last time.

  The ball rolled around the edge of the hoop, then fell in.

  Crash

  Hurry up, people.

  Crash tapped his toes inside his boot and shifted the stacks of water bottles a little in the shopping cart so they wouldn’t fall. He leaned over and counted the people in front of him again.

  Twelve, and he’d already been standing here a good ten minutes. What the hell was taking so long? Did they seriously only have two lanes open on a Saturday? He hadn’t seen lines this long at the grocery store since that snow storm hit a year and a half ago.

  He glanced behind him and counted another fifteen people standing in line. The man next to him coughed into his palm, then wiped it on his jeans.

  Seriously, dude?

  Crash took a step back, disgusted. He didn’t want to catch whatever that guy had. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his skin looked almost grey.

  Someone behind him started coughing. Then another person. He turned around and looked, tension building around his eyes. At least three other people in the line behind him were coughing and blowing their noses. Several people had similar dark rings around their eyes.

  What the hell?

  He glanced down at the shopping baskets these people were carrying. Almost everyone in line was waiting to buy the same types of items. Tissues, cold medicine, comfort food like chicken and noodle soup, cough drops.

  Everyone.

  He swallowed and gripped the stack of water bottles tighter.

  Had it just gotten hotter in there? Crash wiped a bead of sweat from the back of his neck.

  It was May, right? Flu season should have been well over by now. Seasonal allergies maybe?

  Allergies that brought them all in to this one grocery store at exactly the same time?

  No, definitely not possible.

  Something was going around. He didn’t know how he’d missed it. Okay, well maybe he’d been playing that new first person shooter for the past two weeks straight and hadn’t even bothered to leave his apartment once. But something this bad? He should have known about it. He should have seen something come across the boards.

  What if this was the big one he’d been waiting for? Dreaming about?

  He studied the people in line again. Almost every one of them was showing signs of some kind of major illness. One lady even looked like she was one step away from just passing out right here in the grocery store. She could barely hold her head up straight.

  If this thing was airborne, he was already screwed. He was standing in a cluster of sick people. He stared at the cart full of water bottles. He really needed these to complete his water stash and the coupons he had expired tomorrow. If he didn’t get these today, he’d totally miss out on the deal and might not be able to afford to pick them up for another few weeks.

  But if he didn’t get out of here soon, he was going to hyperventilate. He could smell the sickness in the air.

  Just ahead, some guy with a name tag walked by.

  “Hey, buddy, any chance we could get another lane open?” he called out.

  Several people behind him mumbled in agreement. The manager looked over at him, but shook his head.

  “I’m doing everything I can,” he said. “We had five employees call out sick today. First time in history. I’ve got someone calling to try to get a few extra hands in here. I promise we’re going to get you through as fast as we can.”

  Crash leaned over and counted again. Ten people still in front of him. At this rate, he’d be here another hour before he got checked out. By then, if he hadn’t already caught whatever it was these people all had, it would be a damn miracle.

  He shook his head. So not worth it.

  He pulled the cart out of the long line and abandoned it next to some giant display of peanut butter candies. He pulled the collar of his t-shirt up over his mouth and walked past the rest of the people standing in line and, finally, out into the fresh air.

  The Witch

  Someone was coughing in the next room.

  The witch opened her eyes slowly, the lids sticking together as if she hadn’t opened them in weeks. Her bones ached, every muscle tight and tired.

  A heavy blanket covered her body and sweat trickled across her temple. She grabbed the edge of the blanket and moved it to the side. The fabric seemed to weigh a thousand pounds and the muscles in her arms screamed at the simple motion.

  She sat up, but the room began to spin and she had to close her eyes to keep from falling backward. She moaned and ran her fingertips across her forehead.

  Footsteps sounded on the floorboards outside her room, followed by a knock at the door.

  Startled, she looked up, taking in her surroundings for the first time. She shook her head, not remembering at first. Nothing here looked familiar and she wondered if she was still caught inside a dream.

  “Are you awake? Mind if I come in?” A man’s voice followed by another soft knock.

  The witch went to answer, but her voice was a mere whisper. Her throat was dry as a desert.

  The door opened slowly and a pair of blue eyes peered inside. When he saw that she was awake, the man’s face broke out in a smile. “Hi,” he said. He motioned toward the table by her bedside. “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head, still trying to swallow and find her voice.

  The man carried a small tray inside and set it down on the table. He poured a cup of steaming brown liquid and handed it to her.

  She lifted her hands and wrapped them around the warm cup.

  He nodded to her, then glanced at the drink.

  Slowly, she brought it to her cracked lips and took a sip. The taste was bitter, but felt delicious against her sore throat. She took another sip and her stomach rumbled.

  The man reached for the wooden chair near the door and pulled it over toward the bed. He turned it backwards and sat down facing her. His eyes never left her face. “How are you feeling? I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you awake,” he said. “I was going to give it one more day before I drove you into the city. I would have taken you sooner, but Momma’s really sick herself and said she didn’t want to be moved. I didn’t feel right
leaving her here alone, but I was scared you weren’t gonna make it.”

  The witch narrowed her eyes at him and placed her hands in her lap, still holding on to the delicate cup even though it was empty. “Where am I?”

  The man tilted his head a bit. “Don’t you remember? My momma and I found you outside on the ground a few days ago,” he said. “You were passed out for Lord knows how long. Momma said maybe days. No idea how you survived it, really.”

  She shook her head. “No, I mean where am I?” she asked. “What’s this world called?”

  The man’s nostrils flared a bit and he laughed. “This world?” He sat up straighter. “What do you mean? Like what county?”

  The witch looked down at the cup in her hands. She wasn’t thinking straight. She needed time to gather her thoughts and figure this out. She definitely wasn’t still in her homeland. No, wherever Tobias had gone, it was definitely another dimension.

  She’d never seen another world before, but she’d read about them many times in the Council’s history books. Before the War of Fire and Ice, witches and wizards used to travel freely between dimensions. It was only after the Dark One was banished that the guardians made it a crime to use portal magic. They never told anyone where they’d sent the Dark One, and they’d hoped no one would ever be able to find her.

  But Tobias had led her straight here.

  “What’s your name, anyway?” the man asked.

  She lifted her eyes to his. “I have no name,” she said.

  He laughed again. “Everyone’s got a name.”

  She lifted the delicate cup and put it back on the man’s tray. “Thank you for the drink. It was very kind of you to take me in.”

  He shrugged. “It’s no problem,” he said. “Up here in the mountains, we don’t get many visitors and it’s a long way to the nearest hospital. I would have called a doctor, but me and Momma, we don’t have a lot of money right now. The crops haven’t been that great this year. Not enough rain.”

  She nodded, trying to understand what he was telling her.