CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WELCOME TO CAT’S EYE, COLORADO
Colorado has without a doubt some of the most beautiful scenery in the United States. The Rocky Mountains stand proud and magnificent against the ever-changing sky. Waterfalls, trees, flowers, and a wide variety of animals make up the peaceful oasis of nature. One doesn’t need much skill to know why Colorado is a popular tourist spot. Colorado’s history gives one an at-home feeling, and the cities and towns are generally friendly.
However, not all places give you a sense of comfort. Even before the exorcism of Whispers, Cat’s Eye was standoffish to strangers. People paid no attention to each other, mostly because they themselves were drowning in dark secrets and unhappy lives. Night settled more quickly upon Cat’s Eye, that little town nestled against the Rockies, hidden by scenery, and quite likely, the townspeople preferred it that way. Happiness made no home there.
Then suddenly, a newer, darker evil came calling…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
BRENNER’S CAFÉ 6:30 PM
Brenner’s was the local hangout, a place everyone would meet to drown his or her problems in alcohol and commotion. Although their problems were never solved, it remained an almost superstitious belief.
Dianna Witherspoon sat slumped on a barstool, leaning on the counter and twirling a spoon in her coffee cup. At 22, she was blond, fair skinned, blue-eyed, and starrily pretty. The 50s music playing from the jukebox created a pounding rhythm in her head. Squinting under the dim lighting, she hollered, “Trace, lower the volume on the jukebox!”
Trace Brenner, the owner’s son, continued wiping the bar counter lethargically. “It’s low enough,” he replied, “What’s the matter Di? You got a headache?”
Dianna sipped her coffee. “What’s it to you?”
Ruby Ingrid, a sixty-year-old busybody of a woman, smoked her cigarette. “Probably a hangover. You young people are real party animals.”
“I didn’t go to Matt’s party last night,” Dianna answered defensively. Trace raised his eyebrows. Ruby snorted. “Please. I saw you drunk, stumbling home at around three in the morning.”
Dianna’s spoon thudded with a loud clank. “You don’t know what happened!” Ruby signaled for Trace to hand her an ashtray.
Harper Stone bit into his BLT sandwich. At 34, he could be described as a lonesome, embittered sort of man. “Didn’t that party fly out of control?” he grumbled.
Dianna shivered, her eyes wandering the café. Brenner’s was a familiar place, usually with the faint smell of smoke and bacon in the air. Tan walls, movie posters, dim lighting added by the over hanging light bulbs with green shades, and black-white checkered tile flooring created the atmosphere. The bar, tables, karaoke stage (which was rarely used), jukebox, television, and game area completed the furnishings.
Six people sat glumly, all of which Dianna knew well. Ruby sat to her left. Trace stood behind the counter. Harper chewed his sandwich at the end, distancing himself from the others. At one of the tables, Kellen Jamison, a businessman visiting from Denver, fingered through paperwork. He trusted the townspeople as little as they trusted him. In the back kitchen, 12-year-old Cricket Foster washed dishes. Trace hired her only because no one else was desperate enough to do the job.
“It’s not a hangover,” she muttered under her breath. Outside the sky was darkening from orange to purple. Her mother was gone. Her father would be waiting for her.
Dianna didn’t want to go home. She was afraid.
What’s happening to the people in this town? She wondered. Of course no one would ever admit anything was wrong. Frankly no one cared so long as his or her skin wasn’t harmed. Still Dianna could sense the change, which is exactly how she preferred to call it. Daddy’s different. Matt’s different. I’m afraid. Will it happen to me too?
Dianna hoped she’d never have to recount the things she witnessed at the party. At first everything was pleasant. Suddenly a horrible grin crossed Matt’s face, and he turned to Jeff Morris. Jeff was a quiet boy. Suddenly Matt began breathing heavily. Several people looked startled, but nobody said anything. Dianna herself wished she could’ve done something. But a low growl escaped from Matt’s throat, and he lunged at Jeff. Dianna watched in horror as Matt tore at Jeff. Jeff screamed, writhed, kicked, and hit at Matt, but Matt seemed to have acquired super strength.
Jeff died.
Even more surprising, Matt and the rest of the partygoers through Jeff in Matt’s truck, went out into the woods, and buried him. Everyone except Dianna, for she stayed behind, getting drunk purposely to forget what happened. Fear and anger swelled inside her.
Matt had been different ever since the episode at his house three days ago. At first, Cat’s Eye police found traces of blood. The natural assumption was homicide. But then Matt emerged three days later, claiming to have gone on a camping trip. No explanation for the blood was offered, but then again, the police didn’t ask for one.
Trace gingerly touched Dianna’s cheek. “Hey, you okay? You’re pale.” “Just…thinking,” she stammered weakly.
Ruby lit another cigarette. “I’d like someone to escort me home.” Harper snorted. “Why?” Ruby shrugged. “Haven’t you heard those strange sounds at night?”
Trace dropped his rag cloth. “Yes. Coming from the woods. Howling.”
Harper shrugged his shoulders. “Coyotes. Roam this area sometimes.” Trace disagreed. “No. Those aren’t coyote howls. Actually these new howls are much more frightening.”
Ruby laughed. “Trace, you by far are one of the most arrogant boys in Cat’s Eye. Your father spoiled you. Are you claiming to be afraid of those strange animals that have recently moved in?”
“Accusing me of being cowardly?” Trace challenged, “I suppose you can identify what’s out there?”
“I am an old woman. And no, I can’t identify the howls, but they sound bloodthirsty.”
“Bloodthirsty?” Kellen closed his laptop computer. “You people are nuts.”
News reports flashed on the TV screen. Just then Cricket kicked the kitchen’s swinging door open, balancing a rather large stack of cleaned plates. “Why’s everybody arguing?”
“Hush kid,” Kellen snapped, “It’s the news.”
“Today, the town of Cat’s Eye is still searching for Jeff Morris, a local eighteen-year-old missing since yesterday evening. Also in Cat’s Eye, police are still searching for the murderer of Chastity Witherspoon, whose body was found mangled horribly near her home last week. Strangely, Witherspoon’s body was stolen from the morgue shortly after. Surviving members of the family include her husband Landon and daughter Dianna. In Silver Springs…”
Kellen took a seat at the bar. “Hey, get me a beer.” He turned to Ruby. “Peculiar how people turn up dead like flies in this town.”
Harper glared angrily. “Everything was just peachy before you showed up.”
Cricket was a thin, wiry, freckled redhead, barely tall enough to reach the counter. She grabbed her backpack. “It isn’t him. It’s the monsters outside.”
Ruby snuffed her cigarette. “Children watch too much television these days. Dear girl, get those frivolous thoughts out of your head. No monsters are outside. Wild coyotes but nothing else.”
“Oh will you people wake up?!” Dianna practically screamed, “It’s something evil!”
Trace sighed. “I agree we aren’t dealing with Lassie, but…”
“People are being savagely murdered and their bodies are stolen. Those who are still alive seemed to become possessed and do crazy things they can’t possibly explain!”
Harper shook his head. “Let’s not fool ourselves. She’s right.”
Kellen downed his beer, ordering another one. “Why aren’t the police pulling strings and hauling butt?”
Diana grit her teeth. “For some reason they say (in a mock tone of voice), ‘We’re overreacting’. They threw my mom in a body bag and signed a coroner’s report. That’s it! Some reporters in Denver got wind of it and that’s the only reason they know!”
Cricket, although afraid to go home, didn’t want to stay at Brenner’s. The adults’ conversation was frightening her.
She ran out the door, her red sneakers slapping on the asphalt into the cool, crisp night air. A soft blanket of stars lit the sky. Trees and mountains created shadows along the five cars parked outside. Brenner’s Café sat on a dirt road outside of town.
Cricket started to hop onto her bike when a rustle in the bushes startled her. Cricket dropped the bike handles. She could have sworn she’d seen a pair of red eyes staring at her. The howling began again, somewhere in the distance. A chilly breeze ruffled her windbreaker. She knotted a strand of hair nervously.
The bushes rustled again. A snarl. Cricket backed away slowly. A shadow darted past the doorway to Brenner’s. Cricket ran behind a truck, ducking. A scream rose in her throat. A man stood in the doorway.
Jeff Morris!
Cricket revealed herself. “Jeff?” she said timidly. Jeff turned to face her. His skin was pale, his cheeks sunken and gaunt. Dirt smudged his wrinkled, torn clothes. Menacing eyes, tinted with red, leered at her. “Cricket, what a surprise.” His voice rasped.
Cricket stumbled backwards in fear. “You…you’re…” she gasped. Jeff laughed, stepped out of the porch light, headed down the steps, and came closer to Harper’s truck. “Dead?”
The backpack straps slipped off Cricket’s trembling shoulders. She didn’t notice, but she did see Jeff’s fingernails sharpening into talons. “Help!” she screeched, scrambling away from the truck and straight into the forest. An owl hooted. Common sense should have warned the terrified twelve-year-old that the woods were a dangerous place, but Jeff was advancing quicker, and fear knew nothing but to scurry.
CHAPTER 27
JC sat stiffly in a wooden chair, staring at the microfilm. Emerald squeezed his shoulder. JC winced in pain as her nails dug deeper. “Geez, does it look like I’m struggling?”
Thankfully New Orleans’s library was crowded. People loitering in the aisles, surfing the internet, typing papers, researching at long wooden tables, and chatting quietly. A small child breezed behind JC’s chair, waving a picture book for his mother to see.
Emerald motioned for JC to get the cell phone. “Call them. Say you’re ready.” JC had know way of knowing what was up Emerald’s sleeve, but he did know that to disobey her was a dumb idea. As soon as he reached for the cell, Emerald jumped up and ran until she was out of sight, leaving her baffled hostage in the dust. For a moment he didn’t speak. Then the phone rang.
“Gabriel?”
“Hi. Change of plans Jace. Gandor canceled Wick’s game thanks to a few…er…shocking discoveries.”
“Fine. Where are you now?”
“Turn around.”
JC stood, turned, and saw Chris, Justin, and a few others he didn’t recognize. After exchanging hugs, they made the necessary introductions.
“Where’s Lance?” JC asked with concern. The very mention of Lance’s name made everyone freeze. That’s when JC suddenly spotted Lance standing to the side. He couldn’t make eye contact. “I’m here,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Man, you okay?” JC reached to hug him, but Lance jerked away. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. Come to mention it, only Ramona seemed unafraid to stand near him. “He’s had a shock,” she explained, “As a matter of fact I’m not sure anyone’s adjusted yet.”
Chris sighed and gulped. “Lance, try to understand, we’re…”
“Scared of me, that’s what. Go on. Admit it. I can’t say that I really blame you. But how do you know what Gandor said was true?” Lance replied angrily. Ramona gave him a look. “It makes sense.”
“No it doesn’t!” Lance spun on his heels, storming out of the library. Several heads glanced up, then went about their business.
JC was speechless. “What on earth? Somebody better spill their guts.”
“Sure you don’t want to sit down first?” Chris asked, looking sincere in that remark. JC giggled nervously. “What’s the joke?” Chris answered, “What would you say if we told you we’ve been living with a guy who’s actually been dead for fifteen years and is an angel destined to help stop an apocalypse?”
“I’d say it’s time to get rid of your TV and check in to psychotherapy.”
Slowly and carefully, the group gathered at a table and filled JC in on the info. In the end JC looked as stunned as they were feeling. “No way…” he muttered.
“Yes way,” Justin said, “Do you believe it?”
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to believe?”
“We’re all having difficulty grasping this,” Andrew spoke gently. Gabriel wrung his hands. “I apologize for not giving you forewarning.”
They faced him. (In unison) “You knew about this?”
“Of course. And don’t pretend not to be skeptical,” he warned, “As far as yall are concerned, this whole situation with Lance is a twisted joke. But I promise you: he is an angel, and I expect everybody to get a grip on that soon. We have bigger issues to worry about.”
“We do?” JC swallowed the lump in his throat. “Oh yeah, they snatched the crystal.”
“And tomorrow evening they will revive the Master in Cat’s Eye.”
Ramona licked her lips. “We must travel there immediately. We can’t let what happened in Whispers happen to those poor people.”
“It’s already happening,” Gabriel nodded gravely, “But there’s still hope. Justin, you and Lance are our best bets as far as this ‘war’ is concerned.
“How am I supposed to compete with an angel?” Justin muttered sullenly.
Chris frowned. “What’s your problem?”
“Shut up!” Andrew ordered sharply, “If we’re going to survive we must stick together. No more of this trivial bickering. Now what is our plan?”
Ramona summed up the general idea. “We fly to Cat’s Eye, help Lance recover his memory, steal the crystal, bail those people out of trouble, destroy the Lost Souls, and end the threat to mankind.”
“This is going to take a lot of work.”
“Sounds like a screenplay of a horror movie.”
“It’s a terrible job that rests on our shoulders.”
“If I hadn’t been stuck on the roller coaster ride through Whispers, I wouldn’t be open-minded enough to buy all this.”
“Where’s Johnny?” Justin asked as they walked out the door.
“Unless Emerald tossed him out of the car, he’s with the Lost Souls.”
Chris smirked, although it looked less than happy. “Here we go again.”
CHAPTER 28 BRENNER’S CAFÉ 8:30 PM
Kellen Jamison drummed his fingers on the table, slowly convincing himself to finish his paperwork. However he couldn’t bring himself to complete it. Other thoughts lingered in his mind, those of his wife Alice. He desperately wished their marriage could’ve lasted, but there’s a thin line between work and family. He was the job. Alice couldn’t accept that.
Kellen’s father often quoted: “In order for a good man to achieve success he must work twice as hard.” Kellen snorted. I’ve become just like my father, who was obsessed with success. Kellen had been sent by the company to survey the area and attempt land negotiations with the town council. Negotiations failed, and for the first time Kellen felt relieved. Cat’s Eye has an extremely creepy vibe to it. I especially dread the people. They aren’t exactly tourist friendly.
Trace and Harper were playing pool in the game area. Trace positioned his stick.
“Do you trust that Kellen character?”
“He’s an outsider. Strangers always bring trouble.”
“Maybe, but…” Trace’s voice trailed off. “But what?” Harper demanded, impatiently awaiting Trace’s move.
Trace knocked a blue ball into the left hole. “Maybe, but we might consider requesting assistance if our problem worsens.”
Harper rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to Dianna. Poor nitwit is distraught over her mother.”
“My, you have such a compassionate personality.”
“Does anyone in Cat’s Eye?”
“Hmm, now that you mention it…good point.”
Ruby changed tunes in the jukebox, moving from 50s to country. “Can I get something around here to eat or is it a self-serving buffet?”
“You know where the kitchen is.”
“May I remind you that…”
“That it’s my job? Ask me if I care.”
Grumbling under her breath, Ruby meandered into the stainless steel kitchen. The startling scene numbed her blood. She pushed a wisp of gray hair out of her eyes. The kitchen lay in ruins. Food spilled all over the floor. Liquids dripped from the counters. Cabinets, drawers, and other such appliances were yanked open, some upside down. Dishes were smashed. Glass littered the floor from the shattered windows. Two light fixtures were busted, casting shadows over the wreckage.
Frightened, Ruby gripped the door, steadying her body. Wrinkled hands shook uncontrollably. Get a grip, she scolded mentally. Ruby prided herself on being calm, cool, and collected. Surely a childish joke like this wouldn’t put her nerves on end. But the savagery of it all…
Meanwhile, Dianna leaned against a pinball machine, watching the game between Trace and Harper intensify. Nobody spoke, but communicated through gestures, stern eye contact, and hard looks. The cat clock above the bar ticked 8:40.
Tap. Tap.
Dianna’s shoulder blades tensed. Her fingers curled into fists.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She turned around, facing the window looking over the backyard of Brenner’s Café, otherwise known as the forest.
A woman stared at her. Tangled muddied locks of hair framing her bony face. Flaming blue eyes never breaking their gaze. Deathly pale skin swallowed by dirty clothes. The ghastly lady reached out, touching the glass.
Ramona scarcely dared to breathe.
“Mommy…” she whispered.
In one swift motion, followed by animal-like movements, Chastity Witherspoon was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The makeshift plan was set in motion. They’d found Johnny standing in the parking lot, confused and shaken. Johnny, finally admitting JC was right, hopped on the next plane back to Philadelphia to handle the press, take care of their affairs, and explain their absences. Nsync, Gabriel, Andrew, and Ramona took a private plane to Denver. They were still flying at nightfall, destined for the airport in less than 2 hours.
Chris and Justin played Sega, attempting to relax. Ramona and JC were engaged in a game of checkers. Andrew and Gabriel talked intently about the dangerous journey that lay ahead.
Lance hugged his knees in a corner hidden by the small drink machine. Will the numbness ever disappear?
Lance’s hands were cold. It was the first truly empty moment where he felt completely and utterly alone. Alone. The most frightening of human emotions. Yet Lance wasn’t completely human, so should he be experiencing these feelings? It was so confusing.
My brothers won’t accept me. I don’t belong.
And the sheer though that he was dead horrified him. My whole life…I’ve been pretending to be something I’m not. Like an actor caught in a play act that he doesn’t know he’s performing in.
Gabriel and Andrew sat down beside him. “We need to talk.” Lance clammed up. “Go away.”
“We’re worried about you. Your brothers are worried about you.”
“They’re afraid of me. Heck, I am afraid of me.”
“Lance give the shock time to sink in,” Andrew coaxed, “You were chosen by God for a great purpose. Doesn’t that mean something?”
Tears brimmed in his eyes. He blinked them back fiercely. “I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel special.”
“No,” Gabriel agreed, “Not yet. But you will when your memory returns.”
“But I’m human,” Lance protested softly, “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.”
“You were designed to think and act like a human. In fact I’m not certain the humanity ever died in you. Give yourself a chance to adjust.”
“You live every day thinking you’re a regular guy and the next second you’re royally informed that you’re an angel. Don’t expect me not to be…scared.”
“You shouldn’t be scared of your own destiny. Don’t you think that you were selected because you contained the heart and the abilities to fulfill this mission?”
“In all honesty, my biggest question is,” Lance confessed, “When this is over, what’s gonna happen to me?”
*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chris put the hand control down. “Justin, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he replied distractedly, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“What did Gandor mean when he said you weren’t as special as Lance?”
Justin paused, sighing, “Round up the others. Guess I can’t hide it forever.”
Chris quickly managed to catch everyone’s attention. They gathered in a circle around Justin, sitting Indian style. Lance watched in the background, feeling unwelcome. He’d overheard Justin whisper to Gabriel, “Leave the great Lance alone. I’ll bet he already knows what’s going to happen.” Justin’s comment stung Lance, but he couldn’t blame him. Actually, Lance was as clueless as the rest.
Justin pulled out two things: a sheet of paper and koosh ball. Gabriel nodded encouragement. Justin cleared his throat. “Turns out I have a few hidden abilities of my own. First…(he looked at Chris)…pick a number between 1 and a trillion. Don’t say it out loud.”
Chris thought about it. Suddenly he came up with a decent number. If Justin’s trying to guess this, he won’t stand a chance.
“687, 465, 231,098.043,” Justin repeated.
Everyone’s mouths dropped open. Chris’s eyes widened. “How…how…what the…”
Next Justin focused his attention onto the sheet of paper. For five seconds his gaze didn’t waver. Then smoke rose from the paper. Tiny flames crinkled the corners. Soon, dancing flames covered the entire sheet.
“Unbelievable,” JC uttered, stunned.
Justin blinked, and the fire extinguished. He looked at the koosh ball. Five seconds later, BOOM! The koosh ball exploded.
“Justin is a telepath. He can read your minds,” Gabriel said, “He’s also a pyrokinetic. He is able to set things on fire and blow them up without lifting a single finger.”
As the plane flew the group closer to Denver, their car ride to Cat’s Eye also became nearer. And with that…the danger grew worse as Nsync would soon uncover hidden truths, which may even cost them their lives.