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Nick was starting to get paranoid. He paced
around his motel room, trying to sort out his thoughts. His mind
drifted
continuously to his dream about Julia, the encounter with the woman
at the café, and the awful experience the night he
had collapsed.
Nobody knew the truth about what had happened that
night; not even Derek. He had been too afraid to tell them he
had heard his father. He knew exactly what they would think—that
it was just the returning grief over losing Julia warping
his mind. But he knew it had been real.
Nick shut his eyes, pushing away the tears that
wanted to pour out of them. He reached into his coat pocket and felt
the
small slip of paper there. He looked at the phone beside him,
then shook his head. He probably wouldn’t be able to
make a long-distance call from the room anyway.
What the hell, he thought, and picked up the receiver.
He quickly dialed Julia’s number, then listened in surprise as it
rang through. He heard somebody pick up. “Hello?” he said
into the phone.
There was no answer, just a burst of static.
“Julia?” he tried again, but there was still no response.
Nick pulled the phone away from his ear, then put
it back quickly. He listened to the quiet static, then got ready
to hang
up. “Nick.” He stopped short.
He lifted the phone slowly up to his hear.
“Hello, Nicky,” said the same familiar voice. “Nice to hear from
you.”
Nick couldn’t believe it. He was hearing his
own father. There was none of the menacing tone that he had grown
so
accustomed to hearing on the nights that his father drank. His
voice sounded normal, almost gentle, and Nick felt very
close to tears.
“Dad,” he whispered unbelievingly. “It can’t
be you,” he said, shaking his head. “What’s going on? I know
it can’t be
you.”
There was no response. Nick shook the phone,
trying to force an answer out of it. “Hello?” he shouted. “I
know
somebody’s there! Hey, hello?!” The room was silent.
“No,” Nick whispered in despair. “No, oh god, no.” He buried
his
face in his hands and wept.
*
Alex stared at the screen in front of her, unable
to believe her eyes. “Rachel, would you come take a look at this?”
she
called.
Rachel walked over to Alex, and looked up at the
larger screen on the wall. Her eyes widened. “Nick,” she whispered.
“No,” Alex disagreed. “That’s Jonathan Boyle,
Nick’s father. He was a member of the Legacy with Derek years ago.”
“I can certainly see the family resemblance,” Rachel
said, leaning on the back of Alex’s chair. “What is this?”
“It turns out there have been disturbances in Santa
Mira before. The FBI covered them up.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Who knows,” Alex responded. “This article
doesn’t mention the disturbances, only a grant given to Jonathan Boyle
by
the town’s mayor. I traced the grant back to some very interesting
disturbances at the local police station. Thirteen officers
were killed.”
“That’s awful,” Rachel remarked. “What happened?”
Alex turned to face her. “There was an explosion.
Several of the officers were trapped by the blaze, but most died
because of what happened after.”
“And what was that?”
“Lightning struck the police station. What
little part of the building that hadn’t caught fire in the explosion lit
up
immediately.”
“Sounds like a disaster.”
“It was,” Alex agreed. “The strange thing
was, they couldn’t find any explosives that would’ve caused the blast.
And
there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. It had been sunny all
day, and according to the survivors, you could see the stars.
That wouldn’t have been possible with clouds.”
“Okay, so this was obviously done by some kind of
supernatural force. But what?”
“Well, according to this,” Alex said, holding up
a photocopied document, “they never figured it out. Nick’s father
worked
on the case for several weeks, then gave up. He just claimed
it was an unknown force.”
Rachel frowned. “Then why the grant from the
mayor?”
“I have no idea,” Alex admitted. “But I intend
to find out.”
*
Nick turned over on the bed and groaned. He
saw sunlight shining rudely through the thin curtains. He sat up
slowly,
and immediately wished he hadn’t. Sitting on the nightstand beside
his bed was a small piece of paper. He leaned over
to pick up the paper, but stopped as he heard somebody pounding on
his door.
“Coming!” he shouted, then started to wince even
before his feet felt the cold tiles of the floor. He frowned and
looked
down at his feet. He was still wearing his jeans and boots, he
noticed. He felt his chest. No shirt, though.
The knocking continued. “I said I was coming!”
he shouted, a little angry this time. He hurried to the door and
threw it
open, expecting to see Derek. He nearly collapsed with surprise.
“Julia!”
*
Derek had been awake for several hours when he decided
to wake Nick. He quietly left his room and walked out into
the bright sunlight. He pulled his coat tighter around him, alarmed
at the chill in the air. He could see his breath coming in
slow puffs in front of his face in the cold air.
He was getting ready to round the corner of the
building before Nick’s door when he felt a sharp blow to the back of his
head. His vision turned gray at the edges, wavered, and then
everything went black.
*
“I found something!” Alex yelled.
“Finally,” Rachel said in relief. She looked
at her watch. “Will this take long? It’s almost time to pick
Kat up.”
“Don’t worry, you have plenty of time. You
have to hear this.”
Rachel was amazed at the excited expression on the
younger woman’s face. She looked as if she’d just struck gold.
“It was Jonathan Boyle.”
Rachel was very confused now. “What do you
mean?” she asked.
“The FBI didn’t cover the case up, the Legacy did.
Jonathan Boyle was responsible for the explosion. He didn’t use
regular explosives, though. He just tapped into a series of land
mines already under the city. He could’ve blown the
whole town.”
“Then why didn’t he?”
“He was discovered. Sloan found a mine just
outside the area that blew. He investigated further and uncovered
the
entire plot. He spoke to Jonathan, rather sternly, about what
he had discovered, and threatened to go to the authorities.”
“Unless-“
“Unless Jonathan agreed to stop the investigation
and quit the Legacy.”
Rachel frowned. “So he asked him to resign
his position in the Legacy? Derek never said anything about that.”
“Of course not. But I’ll get to that in a
moment. Jonathan agreed and cancelled the investigation.”
“That still doesn’t explain the lightning.”
“That was just a grand light show. Jonathan
had the whole thing rigged to look supernatural. It was nothing but
a
publicity stunt. He was using his work at the Legacy to move
on to bigger and better things, apparently.”
“He wasn’t very ethical, was he?” Rachel could
not imagine how it must have been for Nick growing up with him.
“No, he wasn’t,” Alex agreed. “Anyway, once
the investigation was off, Jonathan decided to change his deal with
Sloan. Somehow he convinced Sloan to let him back into the Legacy.
Of course Derek knew nothing about any of this.”
“This is a little too heavy for me, Alex.
I just can’t believe it. A stunt like that, within the actual Legacy?
Why would they
let him get away with that?”
Alex shook her head. “The story isn’t over.”
“That’s right,” Rachel said. “The grant.”
“Yeah, well the mayor was in on it. He was
a good friend of Jonathan Boyle's.”
“What was his name?”
“Jacob Walker.”
Rachel was stunned. “You don’t mean…”
“Yes,” Alex finished. “Julia Walker’s father.”
*
Nick stared at the woman before him, unable to speak.
He had heard many impossibilities over the last few days, but
this was the first actual appearance. He simply stared at her,
taking in her incredible beauty. He could not take his eyes
off her.
She started toward him, stepping lightly into the
room. Still, Nick said nothing, and did not make any move toward
or
away from her. He only stared.
“You’re so handsome, Nick,” Julia said, lightly
stroking his cheek. “You look so very handsome when you’re surprised.”
Still no response from Nick.
“I’ve missed you so much, Nick,” Julia continued.
Her face contorted. “Why did you let me die?”
Nick couldn’t answer. He looked directly into
her eyes, but his mind did not register them. He was beyond
comprehension now. Julia was stroking his hair now, begging for
an answer, pleading with him to tell her. But he could
not find his voice to speak.
Julia continued to coax Nick, trying to bring him
out of his shocked state, but nothing helped. He stood perfectly
still,
staring at her with unseeing eyes. “Nick!” she yelled.
“Nick, you have to tell me! Tell me! WHY DID YOU LET ME
DIE?!”
Nick stared at her.
“Answer me!!” Julia yelled, then screamed.
The figure before Nick exploded in a bright light
and shattered into a thousand pieces, then vanished without a trace.
Nick flinched, then sank onto the bed, where he sat with his head in
his hands.
*
Derek sat up, rubbing at the back of his neck.
His head hurt a little, but it had been only a glancing blow to his head,
and he figured something else had rendered him unconscious. Remembering
Nick, he pushed himself up and ran
around the corner. The door to Nick’s room was open. Derek
hurried to the door and ran into the room.
Nick sat on the edge of the bed, head cradled in
his hands. “Nick!” he shouted, rushing to his side.
“Derek?” Nick asked, raising his head.
“Nick, what happened? Did something happen
to you?”
“Julia,” Nick whispered.
“Julia? Nick, what do you mean?” But
Nick had curled over on one side and was fast asleep.
*
Later that day, after Nick had awoken, showered,
and eaten, the two men went to the elementary school to speak to the
principal. They sat in the school’s office, watching secretaries
answer phones and fill out detention slips. Nick was trying
without much success to forget what had happened that morning.
Derek looked over at him occasionally, but seemed
for the most part to be avoiding facing him. Finally a tall,
dark-haired man walked out of a smaller office. “Dr. Rayne, Mr.
Boyle,” he said, extending his hand. They each shook
it. “Thank you for coming. Why don’t we speak in my office?”
They followed him into the smaller room, and Nick
took the seat closest to the door. The principal sat at his desk
and
looked at them over a stack of papers heaped in front of him.
“You keep very busy,” Derek commented.
“That I do,” the principal agreed. “I’m sorry
I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Patrick Walker.”
Nick was a bit startled. “You seem to know
us already,” he said.
“Yes, William Sloan and I are old friends.
He filled me in on the two of you when he told me you were coming.”
“I didn’t know you were a friend of Sloan’s,” Nick
remarked suspiciously.
“We’ve known each other for years.” Walker
smiled suddenly. “I knew your father as well,” he said to Nick.
Nick stiffened. He continued to eye the principal
suspiciously. He felt worse about him than he had the motel
manager. “Well,” he said, leaning back slightly in his chair.
“My father’s dead.”
“I know,” Walker replied. “I attended his
funeral. I don’t recall seeing you there, though.”
“I didn’t go to the funeral,” Nick said shortly,
turning away from the principal.
“I’m sorry,” Walker said, with a faint glint in
his eye. “I seem to have touched on a sensitive subject. Why
don’t we move
on?”
Derek watched the exchange between the two silently,
but failed to notice the amused glimmer in the older man’s face.
He was concentrating on Nick.
Walker pulled some documents out of his desk and
handed them to Derek. “These are the written reports of the events
of last week. This,” he said, indicating the paper Derek was
reading, “is a photo taken of the cafeteria after the first
disturbance.”
Nick looked over Derek’s shoulder at the photograph.
The entire cafeteria was in disarray. Plates, forks, spoons, pots
and pans, and numerous other items were strewn across the floor.
Food was plastered to every wall, and tables were
turned over and splintered and broken everywhere in the room.
“Good god,” Derek whispered. “What happened?”
Walker shook his head. “It happened during
lunch. The children were waiting in line for their food when the
tables
began to lift off from the floor. Several children were injured
in the commotion.”
“Everything just started moving on its own?” Nick
asked, incredulous. “You expect us to believe that?”
“Ask the kids,” Walker replied shortly. “Sloan
hired you to investigate these disturbances, not question my liability.”
“Maybe he hired us for the wrong reason.”
“Nick,” Derek sternly interjected, then looked back
to the principal. “I apologize, Mr. Walker. My associate tends
to be a
little rude at times.”
“Yes, I noticed,” Walker agreed. “It’s quite
alright. Just please get to work on this as quickly as you can.
We would like
this solved as soon as possible. If the state hears about this,
all hell will break loose.”
Derek nodded. “In that case, we’d like to
see your cafeteria.”
*
Rachel stared at Alex. “Julia’s father?
How is this possible?”
“I don’t know,” replied Alex, “but I have a feeling
there’s even more to this than I’ve already discovered.”
“How do we find out?”
“Easy,” Alex said with a smile. “We ask Jonathan
Boyle.”
*
Nick and Derek looked at each other and then around
the room again, shocked at the condition of the cafeteria.
“You cleaned it?” Nick asked again.
Walker squared his shoulders. “Did you expect
us to leave it the way it was?”
“Obviously,” Nick retorted. “Just what do
you expect us to work with?”
“Nick!” The other men turned to Derek, who
stood glowering at his associate. “Wait outside, Nick,” he said through
gritted teeth.
“Oh sure,” Nick said, turning his back to him.
“NOW!”
Nick whirled around again. “What’s your problem?”
he asked rudely.
“You know.”
“Come on Derek, I would expect this from Philip,
but you…”
“Wait outside.”
Nick made his way toward the door, shaking his head.
Derek waited for his friend to leave before speaking.
“He gets in these moods sometimes,” he explained.
Walker shook his head. “You don’t have to
explain,” he said quickly. “Maybe we should’ve left the room the
way it
was…”
“Yes, that would’ve been better, but what’s done
is done. Let me have a look at the rest of those photos.”
*
Nick stood outside in the hall, seething with anger.
He had never been so humiliated in his life. Not since his father.
He watched as a pair of young girls walked past
him in the hall and continued toward their classroom. He desperately
tried to remember a time when he had felt that young and carefree.
Of course, he never had, because his father was
always there to bombard him with reality.
A sudden thought occurred to Nick. He followed
in the direction of the girls, stopping only when he reached a door with
a slightly rusted lock. He dug in his jacket pocket and pulled
out a small pin. He struggled with the lock for nearly a
minute before he heard the familiar click. He pushed the door
open.
A terrible smell wafted from the open door.
Nick gagged and covered his mouth and nose with his collar. He stepped
through the door and nearly lost his balance when he took another.
He reached out with one hand for a light switch and
found a cord instead. He pulled it.
He was startled at the sight before him. The
stairs did not go straight down, as he suspected, but spiraled elegantly
into
the darkened basement.
Nick noticed a small lantern beside the cord he
had just pulled, and grabbed it before starting his descent down the
staircase. It seemed that the stairs would go on for miles.
After about a hundred steps, however, the stairs widened and
opened up into the large floor at the bottom. Nick looked briefly
up. It was nearly fifty yards to the ground level.
He took a few steps into the basement and then searched
for an overhead light. It did not take him long. He flipped
the
switch and the basement was filled with a sudden eerie, red-tinted
light. Nick imagined a sound behind him and whirled
around, only to discover he was alone in the vast room.
Nick gasped as he looked around the room.
“What is this place?” he breathed.
The basement was some kind of temple crossed with
a torture chamber. Shackles hung from each wall, and crude
tapestries were painted red by the spill of red light emanating from
the ceiling far above. At one end of the room was a
large stage, set even farther below the level of the ground in the
basement. Church pews were set facing the stage on
large steps that fanned around to the backstage.
Nick followed the steps to the bottom and walked
cautiously to another, smaller, set of stairs that led up to the stage.
He
went up these quickly and found himself at the center of the stage,
facing the rest of the basement. He checked his
surroundings again, taking note of the drastic change of being below
the floor level. The rest of the basement appeared
as a balcony, and the distant walls bled freely, with the curtains
against the far wall and the tapestries along the sides
burning an unholy red.
The chains and shackles lining the walls glowed
radiantly in the red light, emanating a life of their own. The pews
leading down toward the stage were just out of the range of the red
light, but appeared as ghosts coming out of the red
haze that permeated the air. Nick could only stare in open horror
at the unholy sight before him. Sickly, he tried to
imagine how Philip would react to the sight of the basement.
A small sound broke the silence of the basement.
Nick reached into his jacket for his gun, and pulled it out as he heard
the faint swooshing sound again. He peered past the pews in front
of him, trying to find the source of the noise. As the
sound grew louder, Nick realized the sound was coming from above him.
He turned his face toward the ceiling and
gaped in shock and horror.
*
Rachel found it very difficult to sort the thoughts
that hammered her as Alex patiently tried to explain her idea to her.
“He kept a journal, Rachel,” Alex said quietly.
“Do you think he would have written about that?”
“Why not? The journals were supposed to be
buried with their owners, remember? Nobody would’ve ever known.”
“Including us.” Rachel shook her head.
“If only he hadn’t died,” she said quietly. “It’d be a lot easier
if he could just tell
us himself.”
Alex laughed uneasily. “He would never admit
to betraying the Legacy.”
“What if he didn’t?” Rachel asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Did the thought ever occur to you that Sloan was
working with him?”
Alex’s jaw dropped. Of course. “Then
why would he want to cancel the investigation?”
“Maybe it wasn’t Sloan’s idea. Derek was in the Legacy at the time.
If he somehow stumbled across their plan-“
“He would’ve told us,” Alex interrupted.
“Not if he didn’t know. He didn’t necessarily
find out, Alex, but as soon as he got close of course they would have to
cancel the investigation.”
Alex shook her head, amazed at Rachel’s discovery.
“Should we go to Sloan?” she asked the older woman.
“I’m up to it if you are,” Rachel replied.
*
Derek found nothing in the cafeteria. He soon
grew tired of Walker’s half-formed conclusions about the incidents.
The
man had no idea what he was talking about. He did get a chance
to reflect on Nick’s behavior toward the principal and
the connection Walker had with the other Legacy members.
As he walked out of the cafeteria, he realized for
the first time the principal’s name. “Walker.”
He remembered Nick’s dream and the principal’s claim
to knowing Jonathan Boyle and William Sloan. Could he
possibly be related to Julia? The thought of Julia being related
to that idiot made Derek cringe.
He started down the hall, but stopped shortly after
a few steps. He blinked, annoyed at himself for thinking so slowly
during the investigation. He realized that he hadn’t had one
Sight since he’d arrived in Santa Mira. Considering the
recent events in the small town, he would have expected his mind to
be flooded with memories and premonitions.
He continued down the hall, pondering this, when
he noticed the basement door slightly ajar. He frowned as he
walked toward the door.
*
Nick watched the pendulum’s descent with sick fascination.
He had the strange feeling he had entered the pit of doom.
He laughed to himself as he remembered the famous story. Hey,
it could be worse, he thought. I could be stuck here.
He stepped out of the way of the pendulum, which he noticed was making
its way back up to the ceiling.
Again he found himself wondering about the purpose
of the horrible room he stood in. He ran down the stairs, then
started up the larger flight toward the regular level of the basement.
He tried to look away from the horrors along the wall
as he walked, but found his eyes wandering repeatedly to the torture
devices. He finally reached the top of the stairs and
headed toward the last flight that would lead up to the rest of the
school. Suddenly he stopped, staring at one of the
tapestries on the wall. Woven near the center of the tapestry
was a beautiful young woman holding a child.
The woman was beautiful. Her face was remarkably
like Julia’s, he noticed. They could even be sisters… His eyes
widened and he touched a hand to his jacket pocket. It was Julia.
Not his Julia, not Julia Walker. Julia Reeves.
*
Derek was reaching for the handle of the basement
door when Nick came running out the door, barreling straight into
the Precept. “Nick! What is it?” Derek called as he ran
after the young man.
“Let’s get out of here,” Nick begged, tugging urgently
on Derek’s shirtsleeve.
“Alright.”
The two hurriedly left the school.
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The Betrayal Menu
Fan Fiction Chamber