Chapter 4
Whitney had barely parked the car when I flung the door open and started for the house.
"Tory, where are you going?"
"To clear my head. I'm going to take Coop for a walk."
My puppy was waiting for me at the door. He squeezed past me waited while I unchained my bike. Walking back to the bunker wasn't an option. Coop trotted along as I peddled down the boardwalk. Which I discovered was very hard to do in a dress.
The boys were waiting for me.
"What did you find?" I asked, getting off my bike. From the urgency of Ben's text I knew that this was big.
"There's something I need to show you." Shelton's voice quivered slightly.
I left my bike on the boardwalk and we jogged down to the bunker. Cooper yapped loudly, thinking this was a new game. We ducked inside and gathered around Shelton's laptop.
"I hacked into the network of the school Anthony goes to. Turns out, ever since his vanishing act a few months ago he's been getting into a lot of trouble. Grades plummeting, getting detention left and right, and all around general delinquency."
"What was he like before then?" I peered over Shelton's shoulder to study the screen. Every class he cut, failed grade he earned, and detention he spent was before me. Further down the page were scans of behavior reports and sessions with counselors. I recognized them immediately. After my mom died I had to spend three months going to Bolton's counselor to talk about how I was adjusting.
"His record was cleaner than my house before my grandmother visits. Typical All-American kid. Honors society, played baseball, and was in two or three clubs during the year."
"So his missing week really screwed him up then," Ben mused.
"Apparently. According to the notes form teachers and counselors, they recommend he be tested for a psychotic break."
"What about that picture we found earlier? The one with the other kids in it. Does it say anything about them?"
"Yeah, actually. A few notes here and there that he is tighter with his group of friends than ever before. But none of them have these problems. They're all good kids from what it says here."
"So we know that he was majorly messed up by this. So why was he taken? What makes Anthony Oliver important enough to Thimba for him to be abducted?"
"Rewind your thought train, Tory," Hi said slowly. "We don't know for sure that Thimba is even related to this kid."
"Do you really believe that? Because I sure don't. You know as well as I do that something doesn't line up here. And I intend to find out what it is. If Thimba did what he did to me to someone else, I won't stop until I find them. And then I'm taking Thimba down." My voice rose steadily in anger and frustration as it filled the bunker.
Hi blinked. I regretted snapping at him, but thinking of Thimba and what he did to me sent me into a downward spiral of emotional mess.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Hi. Something in my gut is telling me Anthony is connected somehow. And until I find him, I know that Thimba will always be one step ahead of me. After what he did I can't let him get away with that."
"We know, Tor," Ben said slowly. "And trust us when we say that we are going to do we can to help you find him. Thimba will learn that when you go after one of us then you go after all of us." I nodded.
"Hey guys," Shelton muttered. He nervously tugged on his earlobe. "There's something I just found. And you won't like it."
We gathered around the laptop. My heart stopped beating as I read the words on the screen.
Five teens reported missing from Ridgewood, Queens
As I read the article panic stirred deep in my chest. Anthony Oliver was one of the five. Him, and his four closest friends were all reported missing three days ago.
"Damn," Ben grumbled.
I ignored him and kept reading. The article talked about how the group of five had been last been seen boarding the subway leaving Queens at different times in the day. None of them had been seen since.
"Still think things aren't connected, Hi?" Shelton asked.
"I'm starting to believe otherwise."
My mind bounced through a dozen different possibilities. Did Thimba find Anthony and his friends? Were they on the run? Where would they go if they were? Obviously nowhere their families or the police thought of.
A series of beeps emanating from my watch refocused my attention.
"Crap!" I was so wrapped up in everything going on that I forgot about the time.
"Something wrong?" Shelton asked.
"Guys, I've gotta jet. Stupid dinner with Kit and Whitney." I started for the door. "Text me if anything happens."
Ripping my sandals from my feet I tore across burning sand to my bike. Cooper chose to not wait for me and galloped towards the house.
By the time I reached the house I was drenched in sweat. My hair, long fallen out of the bun, lay plastered to my forehead and back of my neck. Classy.
Letting Cooper in, I shouted to Kit and Whitney that I would be in the shower. I used my precious moments of peace to clear my mind. I needed a break from the hunt from Thimba, and as much as I didn't want to go, this dinner was my one opportunity.
I entered my room feeling refreshed and sweat free. The dress I bought with Whitney was waiting on my bed, pressed and paired with shoes and jewelry.
Letting the towel my hair was wrapped in fall to the floor I ran a brush through the tangles and let it be. I prefer the air-dried look.
I dressed, got ready and finished my hair with five minutes to spare. Before I went downstairs to be cooed over, I took a final glance in the mirror. Thanks to the low humidity in the air today, my hair dried in flowing waves instead of its normal frizz puff. One less thing for Whitney to comment on.
"Tor? Ready to go? We don't want to miss our reservation." Kit had never been overly punctual, so his desire to be on time surprised me. He was pulling out all the stops for Whitney tonight.
"Coming!" I had a momentary debate on brining my phone with me, in case I got a text from the boys. But I decided against it. Dinner wasn't going to go very late and I would check it the moment I got back home.
Kit and Whitney stood in the doorway when I came downstairs. Kit dusted off his only suit and looked rather uncomfortable in it. I didn't blame him. He looked as out of place as I felt.
Whitney sported a second skin, short, pink dress with heels that could possibly be a registered lethal weapon. When she saw me her eyes lit up like fireworks.
"Tory, you look absolutely precious!" I mumbled thanks and gave a pained look at Kit.
"Well, we better get going." I followed them to the car. Driving away I looked back in the direction of the bunker. I would have given anything to be out there with the boys looking for Anthony and Thimba.
The drive downtown gave me thinking time. What we needed was a plan. A way to track down Thimba, find Anthony and discover how the two were connected. All we had to do was get a starting point. Easier said than done.
Shelton had yet to find a scrap of proof that Thimba existed. We had done numerous searches on the technology he created, but came up with nothing but movies and conspiracy theorists ramblings.
"You feeling OK, kiddo?" Kit asked. "Whitney said you had an incident this afternoon."
"I'm fine. Just thinking about some plans the boys and I were coming up with."
"I hope these are appropriate activities for a young lady," Whitney retorted.
I smirked. If only she knew the half of it.
The remainder of the car ride was filled with idle chatter between Kit and Whitney. They occasionally pointed a comment or question in my direction.
We had only left twenty minutes ago and I already regretted not brining my phone. Too late now. All I could do was suffer through this dinner, get home, and start thinking about our plan of attack for finding Anthony.
"We're here," Kit exclaimed.
Circa 1886 is a restaurant built out of an old carriage house from 1886. The owners clearly weren't the creative types. Three stories of brick towering trees greeted us as we entered the front courtyard. Two curved, cast iron staircases led up to the front door.
From the street I could hear chatter of people inside. The night was warm and the doors and windows of the restaurant were open, creating an undeniable beacon to the building from foot traffic.
At the door a man in a tux greeted us warmly and asked for our names. He glanced at a list and led us to a table in the back of the restaurant.
Tablecloth covered table spread across the room, each with a vase of flowers and two candles. Above my head were chandeliers that bathed the room in a golden light.
Kit pulled out a chair for Whitney, and then for me. As I sat a kid a few years older than me came and presented Kit with a wine menu. I ordered an ice tea and he left.
The flowing thirty minutes were painstakingly tedious. Kit selected wine, it was brought to the table, we ordered an appetizer of sweetbreads and assorted dips, ate that and finally our waiter came to take our main order.
Two thirds of the things I had never heard of before, but I had no problem with trying new things. I decided on a pork chop which cost more than any of my recent clothing purchases.
As we ate the three of us had amicable conversation.
"Tory, what did you and the boys do today?" Kit asked me between bites.
"Hung out mostly. We were thinking of heading out to LIRI one of these days. Of course, if we got permission from the director." I grinned in spite of myself. Kit still got flustered at times when someone reminded him of his position.
"You know the rules."
"Don't bug anyone, break anything, or cause mischief in general. I know the drill."
Whitney huffed. She hated the idea of me 'traversing around a dirty island' with a 'gaggle of gawking guys'. All the more reason to bring up going out there in front of her.
Kit set his fork down and cleared his throat. Whitney and I both looked at him.
"Tory, Whitney, there is something I want to bring up with the two of you…"
Kit never got to finish his sentence. Out of nowhere, a jolt of primal energy surged through me. I jumped out of my seat, knocking over a glass of water. My eyes darted around the restaurant. A number of people stopped what they were doing to glance at me.
No matter where I looked, I couldn't find the source of the sensation.
"Tory? Are you all right?" Kit stood beside me. His hand rested on my upper arm, but I didn't respond. I knew the feel that burned in my stomach. The wolf was clawing out. If I didn't get away soon, everyone would see me flare.
"I need to use to restroom." I brushed Kit's arm off and on careful legs made my way to the bathroom. Eyes bore into the back of my neck. Two waiters stepped out of my way as I weaved through the crowded tables.
I had to get away. Too many people.
The bathroom was empty. I froze in front of the ornate mirrors. Nothing could hold it back anymore.
SNAP
My mind burned.
When I flared one of two things happened. It either came as a whisper, the transformation clicking into place like a lock. Other times it was more a spark, a jolt of electricity that raced through me. Momentary pain came with the latter, but it faded as quickly as it came.
This flare was different. The stabs of pain behind my eyes sent me to my knees, gasping for breath. The first time I flared didn't hold a candle to this pain.
Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead as I fought for control. I focused on one sense at a time. My vision cleared first. The room sharpened with unimaginable clarity. Each gentle whisper of sound magnified in my ear canal. Lastly my smell roared to life and I could distinguish each kind of perfume and cologne in the restaurant, amid all the other scents of food, sea air, and car exhaust from the surrounding areas.
The pain lessened. I found myself able to breathe again. I rose to my feet and looked at the girl in the mirror. Her hair spun out of control, flying into a thousand different directions. Lips parted slightly as if tasting the air. Her eyes danced in golden light filled with terror and amazement. This girl was Viral. She was me.
Footsteps traveled towards the ladies room. I spun in a circle as I looked for an escape.
I shut myself in a stall as the bathroom door swung open.
Time for excuses. I said I would only be gone two weeks or so. Well, that didn't happen. I played my game, got a new job, and lost quite a bit of motivation in general for working on this story. That is until a few days ago when I got the most wonderful PM from ForeverSavior, telling me how good my story was. It reignited my interest in this piece and I am ready to get back into writing for it. So, thanks ForeverSavior, you rock so much for this! This chapter is dedicated to you. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy all future chapters to come.
Peace out,
Wolfie