Bound in Blood 1 Clandestine (4 page)

CHAPTER 4

The next morning, Emily woke before her alarm went
off, feeling refreshed. The first thing she noticed was that her
pillowcase was stiff from drool. That’s weird, she never drooled,
what was that about? No time to worry about that since she had
to get to work.

She got ready i
n record time. She had to get to Blake’s
before boss man or he’d have her neck for leaving that last box
un-stocked. Snatching her hair brush off the dresser, she stood in
front of the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She
ran the brush through her nasty bed head and stared at her
reflection appraisingly. The eyes looking back at her weren’t
familiar. They were still blue like hers, but the whites were
invaded with bloodshot lines, as if she had been sobbing. She
didn't remember dreaming either. Had she cried in her sleep? Her
mind flashed to her earlier pillow observation. Huh.

Now that she thought about it, it was strange that she
didn’t recall dreaming. She always recalled them andcouldn’t
think of a single morning,where she didn’t know exactly what
she had dreamed about. In fact, often some of her best stories
had been based off them.

The notebook in the drawer of her bedside table was for
that very purpose. She would wake up inspired and race to
scribble it all down before she could forget any details. Her
mother used to make fun of how vivid Emily's dreams were. She
was so animated when telling the stories that it was next to
impossible to tell they weren't real. Sometimes Emily had
difficulty reminding herself that they were dreams. Not all her
dreams were noteworthy, occasionally they were more like
science fiction or a bad cartoon comedy. Those were always
good for a laugh, if nothing else.

The scratch on her cheek was red,
but didn’t look too
bad. Emily remembered Sam hitting her when she got home. The
reason why was a little trickier. He wasn’t a regular abuser. In
fact, it was rare for him to raise a hand to her. It had only
happened a few times in her entire life and never like last night.
Despite how drunk he was, that was ridiculous, even for him.

Emily dug through her memories, trying to piece last
night together. Strangely, she couldn’t remember. She stared at
her reflection intently, willing herself to recall even the smallest
detail. No matter how hard she tried the night before remained a
blank. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. The thought of
George’s wrath was more pressing right now.

She tossed the brush back on the dresser and glanced at
the black and silver clock on her wall. Without any further
preamble, she hurried out the door. She could see the morning
sun pouring into the living room at the end of the hall. It wasn’t
like Sam to open the curtains. That was one of Emily’s self-
delegated tasks. He would be perfectly happy living in a dark
cave for the rest of his life.

To her surprise, Sam was still sawing logs on the couch
when he was supposed to be at work. The courteous thing to do
would be to wake him gently and rush him off. She shrugged and
hurried out the door. There wasn’t time to deal with the
repercussions. Sam wasn’t a morning person, especially when he
was hung over. Nine chances out of ten, he would wake up
swinging. With her luck, he had taken the day off. She would
worry about that later.

The weather was crisp with a hint of morning fog. The
sky was grey but showed signs of clearing. Birds sang amongst
the trees down the street. At first glance, it was beautiful and
everything seemed perfect. Of course, things aren’t always what
they seem. Emily was beginning to realize that all too well.

As she walked down the streets of her small town, her
mind drifted to the way things used to be. Things had gotten
weird around Lakeview. People still did the usual things, but
their demeanor was different. The first time she had noticed it
was roughly a few weeks ago. Gosh, maybe over a month. Not
everyone seemed to have changed, just some of them.

Lakeview's population had never been above eight
thousand until Mayor Bradshaw came to office. His goal was to
give their quiet town a shove into the future. He wanted tourist
sites, shopping malls and anything else that would increase the
profit margin. Some of his ideas were implemented. Even with
the “improvements” he put into action, the town remained
quaint. Everyone knew everyone and their business was public
record. Kids could play safely outside without parents having to
worry. With some exceptions, the crime rate was down and the
jail never full.

Once things started changing, they turned full circle. The
only muggings this town had ever seen were within the last
month. Kids seemed to stick to the safety of their backyards,
instead of exploring the neighborhoods. People who would
normally would be mowing their lawns were nowhere in sight.
Instead, they let their yards grow passed ankle high. That sort of
thing might be trivial elsewhere,but it’s unheard of in Lakeview.
Most everyone kept their yards neat and tidy like a golf course,
even if their house was subpar.

Others walked quickly with their heads down to their
destinations. Normally, they would look around at familiar faces
and cars, waving and exchanging greetings and small talk, as
they passed. The ones who weren’t staring at their feet were like
walking zombies.

There were even a few shop owners who changed their
hours. They made excuses that business was going well enough
that they didn’t need to stay open into the evening. The prospect
didn’t seem very likely to Emily. Most of the privately owned
stores didn’t get business, except for the loyal customers
opposing big box stores. Most everyone flocked to the
convenience of one-stop shopping at bargain prices, as soon as
they arrived in Lakeview.

Everyone knew the small businesses tended to have
higher prices, because they couldn’t afford to compete with the
big boys. Granted, there wasn’t much in the way of big box
stores yet, but there was now a WinCo, Wal-Mart and talk had
spread about a Ross coming to town. The main objective was to
try to convert Lakeview from its small town ways to an
overcrowded big city. Truth be told, it didn’t seem to be going
well.

When Emily moved her gaze straight ahead, her eyes
widened in surprise at what was in front of her. There was a
woman speeding down the sidewalk directly in Emily’s path.
Mrs. Cleary was headed right for her and didn’t seem to notice
the potential head on collision. The middle aged woman’s head
was down. It looked like her chin might bore a hole into her
collar bone. Her shoulder length hair was falling down around
her like a ball of fluff, obscuring her face completely. Emily had
to laugh a little. It made her look like a frizzed out version of
Cousin It from The Adam's Family.

“Good morning Mrs. Cleary.” Emily greeted brightly
,
giggling. Stupidly, she gave Mrs. Cleary a wave even though the
gesture was made pointless because the woman wasn't looking at
her.

Mrs. Cleary jumped back so hard,
Emily thought she’d
fall in the road and her breath caught. She was watching Emily
with sheer panic, plain on her face, like a deer caught in the
headlights. After a few moments, recognition seemed to dawn on
her.

“Oh, hi Emily. I didn’t see you.”

The smile that she plastered across her face looked false,
not like her at all. It was closer to the type of smile used in a
toothpaste ad, the ones where you think the model’s cheeks
might burst with the pressure of their toothy grin. Honestly, it
looked painful.Great, she’s apparently b
ecome one of the
Stepford Wives.

Mrs. Cleary’s head whipped around and back down
again. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got to get… home.”
Without another word the stout, older woman squeezed passed
Emily and regained her speed around the corner, until she was
out of sight.

That was different, Emily thought shaking her head as
she resumed her own path.Maybe she’s got something going on
in her family? Mrs. Cleary was the town gossip and had no
trouble telling anyone,everyone else’s business. Her silence was
like telling her not to breathe. Emily shuddered inwardly at the
latest thought bouncing around in her mind. The choppy
discourse had nothing to do with family problems. Mrs. Cleary
had been recruited into the odd behavior club that seemed to be
taking over the town.

Emily crossed the street directly in front of Blake’s
Books and half jogged to the door. The blinds were already
open, displaying the big OPEN sign in the window with bold,
block lettering. Crap! George opened early today, which meant
he had seen her laziness. She could picture him behind the
counter with a scowl etched into his stone cold face. His eyes
were probably boring holes into the door,awaiting Emily’s
arrival.

When she stepped in, she was pleasantly surprised to see
George’s cheerful daughter behind the counter in his place.
Emily let out a huge sigh of relief and her shoulders instantly
relaxed. Lucy, sometimes called Luce was Emily's best friend. If
Emily was honest, she would have to admit that Lucy was her
only real friend.

Lucy was Emily’s age
. She attended a blind school out
of town, which meant that many of the teenagers their agedidn’t
know her well. They would see Lucy all the time and still treat
her like she had the plague, usually giving her a wide birth as she
passed. The thought made Emily roll her eyes heavenward, small
towns can be soridiculous. It’s not like blindness was
contagious. Emily wished they would get over it. Unfortunately,
that wasn’t likely.

Her mind drifted back to when they were little. Lucy’s
mom used to set up play dates with other kids around her
daughter’s age. She wanted to give Lucy a chance to feel normal
and allow the other kids to get to know her better. No chance of
that in this town. Heaven forbid, they put into practice the all
famous rule of not judging a book by its cover.

The entire time, the
kids would act like they couldn’t
wait for their parents to get back. The jerks would purposefully
play games that would tease Lucy without them having to
actually do the teasing aloud. This way they could blame their
ignorance if they were called out on their trickery. They would
feign innocence, saying that it never occurred to them that Lucy
couldn’t easily play their games. Yeah right! They played things
like Marco Polo but kept their eyes open. The worst was when
they would go outside and say they wanted to play tag. Everyone
would whoop and holler, having a blast. Poor Lucy couldn’t
keep up and would end up sitting in the grass by herself, until
Emily came by.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to become good
friends. Lucy was amazing and funny. She had a quality about
her that was more valuable than those other kids. When the
others saw that Emily was Lucy’s friend, they realized she wasn't
carrying leprosy and would try to play with her too. It never
lasted long after the novelty wore off. They all went back to
thinking Lucy was an inconvenience. Anger swelled from the
memory. She allowed herself to return to the present, tucking the
past away in a vault at the back of her mind.

If Lucy was up front, that meant that George was likely
in back,plotting Emily’s punishment. Emily took a deep breath
and started toward the counter.

The smell of books enveloped her senses, she breathed
deeper, allowing it to soothe her. It was pleasant, hinting at new
uncharted worlds, waiting to be discovered. A new book was
something to relish and appreciate.Emily’s love of books was
something she had acquired when she was barely old enough to
read. That she worked at a book store was perfect, even if her
boss did leave something to be desired. He wasn’t really that
bad. Good old George was challenging but tolerable.

There were only a few customers browsing and they
didn’t appear to need help. Emily smiled and nodded hello to the
ones that glanced up as she passed. Only two of the customers
smiled back. The other two, were apparently suffering from the
Invasion of the Body Snatchers syndrome.

“Hey Emily. Dad’s been waiting for you and he doesn’t
sound happy.” Lucy was always friendly, even when her news
was not. Her bright cheery nature was infectious.

Emily couldn’t help being surprised
, when her friend
recognized the sound of her footsteps. Lucy couldn’t do this with
everyone, just those she knew. Once known to her, it only took
her one or two meetings before she had their mannerisms down
to a science.

“Hey Luce what’s up?” Emily
said, trying to ignore the
comments about George, without much success.
“Not a lot. Same old mostly.” Her words grew softer.
“Mr. Scott is over there.” She pointed a short slim finger to the
right. “He’s been browsing the Travel section since we opened
the door. I mean he was literally waiting on the curb when we
got here.” Lucy was leaning a
cross the counter towards Emily, as
she spoke.
“Maybe he likes books about far off places. Your dad
has been getting more and more in stock.” Emily mechanically
replied with a shrug. A customer’s browsing habits didn’t seem
like a big deal.
“Yeah,but he’s one of those… ones.” She maintained
her low level of volume in case someone came up. This made
Emily smile a little because no one could get within ear shot of
Lucy without her knowing about it. She always knew how close
people were in comparison to her hushed voice.
“What are you talking about?” Lucy had surprised her.
Did she know something that Emily didn’t?
“Nothing I guess,” she shrugged a shoulder. “I just get a
weird feeling about him. I can’t explain it.”
“I think you’re just paranoid. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Emily tried to sound nonchalant, even though she had noticed
the same thing in the past. He was one of the ones Emily more
recently began referring to as the pod people.
“Emily!” George’s voice bellowed from the back room.
“Is that you I hear out there? Get back here,there’s work to be
done. I don’t pay you to sit and visit.” His rough, deep voice was
the absolute pinnacle of annoyance.
“It’s alright dad… I stopped her to talk,” Lucy c
alled,
trying to help. She shot Emily a sympathetic glance.
“Now,Emily!” George’s voice thundered from his
office.
Lucy raised her hands in defeat. “Sorry Em.” Lucy’s
dark brown eyes softened. It bothered her when her father talked
down to Emily.
“Don’t worry about it.” Emily whispered to her, as she
hurriedly made her way around the counter to the overcrowded
room thatGeorge grumpily occupied. “He’s all bark and no
bite.” Emily knew this was far from the truth but she to worry
her best friend.
“Yeah right.” Lucy said sarcastically, as Emily passed
her.
The back room was cluttered and dusty. As power
hungry as the old man was, he had no patience or concern with
being orderly. He was a total pack rat. The room was dimly lit by
a single light fixture that dangled away from the ceiling by a
cord, looking like it would turn to dust at any given moment. It
swayed slightly from the breeze of the ventilation system.
Any books that didn’t sell were never discarded or put
into a bargain bin. In fact, at Blake’s there was no such thing as a
bargain bin. The sinful word was taboo to George. He didn’t do
discounts.
After clearing the threshold into the time warp, she saw
the familiar floor to ceiling shelves that housed the old,
neglected titles. She was sure that some dated back to the
beginning of time. There were tables all around the room,
holding stacks of books covered in more dust. Some of the piles
looked to be about ten books high. Underneath the tables were
boxes of yet more out of print editions or unwanted books.
George figured, one day someone would come in
looking for a title that they had been seeking for years. He would
have it stored in the back and would mark up the price, under the
statute of supply and demand. He wouldn’t tell the customer that,
he would instead call it a classic and explain the price was for
quality of good literature. Emily had seen him do this a time or
two. She also knew that his vast knowledge of literary works
allowed the customers to trust him implicitly. This was despite
the fact that he was blowing smoke to inflate his profit. Secrets
of the trade, Emily guessed.
She couldn’t help eyeing the door to the back of the
room. There was a table in front of it, implying it was unused.
She wondered what George kept in there. She tried to turn the
knob once, but it was locked with a deadbolt, further securing its
mystery. She had asked George what was in there, but he never
answered.
Lucy said it was her dad’s secret book collection. Luce
had never been in there either, which is why she sarcastically
called it secret. She even put air quotes around the word showing
her irritation, whenever the subject came up. Her rant about it
was hilarious. She didn’t understand why her dad wouldn’t let
her in there. It wasn’t like she could see anything anyway. Well,
maybe he just had a bunch of valuable first editions and didn’t
want anyone to have a chance to case the joint. He was greedy
like that. That or it’s where he planned for world domination.
Either option seemed likely.
Emily turned to the right, entering the office to the side
of George’s desk, where his plans to take over the universe were
probably located. As always, he was deeply frowning at the
entrance, awaiting her passage into his lair. On the corner of his
desk was the box she didn’t get a chance to stock. He gave it a
disgusted glance and then turned his narrowed eyes back to her.
“Emily, even though I find your work to be mediocre,
you do normally get the job done. The lack of responsibility
however, makes me question your present employment status.”
He spit as he patted the box, as if she needed reminding of her
wrong doing.
Never mind the fact that Emily never left work undone
or that she always stayed longer then her shift required. With
George it didn’t matter how loyal an employee you were. It was
all or nothing with good, old George.
Emily pushed aside the fury that was boiling up inside
her. “I’m sorry George. It was getting late last night and I had to
get home. I figured” He interrupted her so abruptly that she
jumped.
“You figured you could sneak in before me this morning
and get it done before I could see the work you had neglected to
do,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“I’m really sorry. I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a
deal.” She apologized meekly and bit her lip.
He glared at her over the frames of his glasses. “Well
missy you figured wrong. You could have cost me money this
morning. What if someone came in wanting the books you
deemed to be unimportant?” His eyes told her there was no
winning. She had lost before she even got to work.
She unwillingly nodded in defeat, shoulders sagging.
“Sorry,it won’t happen again.”
He started to grumble further, lecturing but Lucy cut him
off. “Daddy,there’s a man on the phone wanting to know if we
have the latest James Patterson.”
He stood, “well, as a matter of fact,we do.” Giving
Emily a quick glare, he dug through the box on his desk, where
apparently the title was located. With a grunt of satisfaction, he
plucked the copy out of the box and smacked it against his hand.
As he moved passed them to get to the phone, he pushed against
Emily’s shoulder and patted Lucy lovingly on the head. “Such a
good girl,” he crooned.
After he left,Lucy broke into hysterical giggles. “You
can thank me now.” She grinned at Emily mischievously as she
tucked her black hair behind her ear.
“Huh?” Emily gave her a curious look, not
understanding.
“There’s no one on the phone, I just put it on hold to
make him think there was. I figured it would get him off your
back. After all, he’s not paying you to sit around and talk.” Lucy
giggled again.
Emily snorted. “Oh. Well thanks,” Emily said, laughing
now too. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d probably be living on the unemployment line,”
Lucyresponded sweetly. “Well, I just wanted to talk to you. I
figured we could put the price tags on the books in the box. Then
daddy won’t bug us toomuch.” While she conspired, her
chocolate brown eyes gleamed like a child in a candy store.
Emily’s friend was always at her happiest when she was up to
something.
Lucy’s excitement was infectious. It was impossible for
someone’s mood to be down when she was around. Emily
hoisted the large box onto her hip, waiting for Lucy to move into
the stock room. She nearly dropped the heavy load but managed
to place it onto the only empty table. It was always kept cleared
for this very purpose. Lucy waited for Emily to unload
everything before starting in on the gossip she had overheard,
while working the counter.
After pulling the last book from the box, Emily reached
to the shelf behind it, where the price labels were. Lucy helped
break up the monotony of the task, because it never failed to
crack her up. Realistically, Lucy would only hand Emily the
books to put the right price tag on them. Emily had let Lucy do
the labeling a few times, but some ended up with the wrong
price. Others had upside down labels placed on the wrong side of
the book. This wasn’t a big deal since the labels were made
especially for books and could be removed easily. Lucy liked
leaving some of them messed up for her father to find. Once he
found out it was Lucy’s doing, all hints of anger evaporated into
a surprisingly gentle smile and another pat on her head.
“Okay I’m ready for ya. You want your usual chair?”
Emily asked. Knowing Lucy would, Emily slid the chair out. It
really wasn’t a necessary gesture, since Lucy was an independent
person and could handle finding a seat for herself. Even so, it
was hard for Emily not to help her.
“Thank you,” she cheerily responded, quickly taking her
seat. “You’re such a gentleman,” Lucy chortled. She sat down,
she folded up her cane and set it on the table.
Emily followed suit and waited for Lucy to hand over
the first novel. “Ha ha,dork.”
For a while, they worked in silence, leaving Emily to
wonder if Lucy had forgotten what she wanted to tell her. That
was unlikely since Lucy loved nothing more than to tell a good
story.
Emily heard George greeting a customer in the store. A
man with a booming voice told George that he was looking for a
particular cookbook. It was always interesting to hear the
interactions between George and his customers. He definitely
knew how to put on the Mr. Nice Guy persona.
Lucy broke through Emily’s distraction. “Okay, here
goes,” Lucy started dramatically, as she leaned in closer to
Emily. “I’ve been getting some seriously weird vibes from some
of the people around here. The people who usually chat with me
about school or tell me about whatever they’ve got going on,
don’t say anything other than trivial hellos and thank you's.
Some don’t even come in here anymore.” Lucy abruptly stopped
talking, folded her arms and sat back in her chair expectantly.
Emily took that as her cue for rebuttal. “Luce, I don’t
know, maybe they'rejust busy. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
Emily spoke absently, hoping Lucywouldn’t notice her
hesitation.
She couldn’t shake the feeling something was going on
too, only she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Emily had
always been intuitive and her gut told her that something wasn’t
right. It just wasn’t clear what that itwas. From an outsider’s
prospective, things would probably appear typical, but Emily had
lived in Lakeview her whole life. She knew the way things
worked and whatever was happening wasn’t normal.
Leave it alone
, a voice told her. What the…? What was
that? It was like her subconscious but it wasn’t Emily’s voice.
Without warning, the words released a flash flood of
images. Oh God! Last night… That voice… The attack…
Suddenly, broken memories started flashing before her eyes like
a flip book. Holy Crap! How could she have forgotten last night?
When she woke up, the soreness had been minimal and she had
chalked it up to her run in with Sam. Somehow the rest of the
night’s events must have slipped her mind. How could someone
forget that? You get attacked, or think you did and rescued by a
God-like mystery man, but forget it all? Was that even possible?
Emilytried to recall her attacker’s face but that detail
was blank. That’s strange. Last night, his face was plastered to
her lids and now, she couldn't even recall his eye color. Actually,
the more she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the details
of the attack either.
Absently, her hand rose to brush the scrape on her cheek.
Yep, still there. It felt stupid to need that reassurance. She had
seen the mark this morning in the mirror. Now, she wasn’t sure it
had been Sam that had put it there.
Emily felt like a moron. Logically, she should file a
police report and it
should
have been done last night. Though she
didn’t remember the attackers face, it was important to make a
paper trail in case something happened to someone else. What
was she supposed to do? She couldn’t march into the station and
be like, "Um yeah, I was attacked last night. I have no idea by
whom and I can’t tell you where it happened, just that it did. Oh
yeah, and some guy swooped in and saved the day. OnlyI don’t
remember how or what he looked like either. So gee, you think
you can help me?" Yeah right, like that was going to happen. She
would be institutionalized in about half a second. On the other
hand, that would get her out of her house. At least that would be
one positive.
Lucy’s voice broke throughEmily’s train of thought.
“Let’s just say, I get really strong feelings about people and my
surroundings. Em,I’m not crazy. I guess you could call it being
extremely intuitive. I’ve never told anyone before. No one. So
you can’t say anything, promise?” She stared at Emily intently
an imperative tone to her voice, which Emily had never heard
before.
Emily focused on the conversation, deciding to deal with
last night later. “I promise Luce,but…” Emily swallowed hard.
“You’re sort ofcreeping me out,” she admitted. She felt like
such a coward.It wasn’t as if Lucy were telling her, she could
talk to ghosts or something. She was just saying she was aware
of her surroundings. Somehow though, Emily felt like there was
more to the story. “How have you never told me this before?”
Was it really possible that sweet, little Lucy was some
kind of psychic? The thought boggled her mind. There was no
way. Emily had seen all the late night commercials. That garbage
was hype and propaganda filled with phony fortune tellers,
trying to suck in the gullible. The only people, who believed in
that crap were the sleep deprived, lacking good purchase
judgment. She had always thought that psychics were good
guessers or frauds. Was it possible that her best friend had
supernatural power? This realization made Emily look at her
friend in an entirely new light.

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