Silent Symmetry (The Embodied trilogy) (4 page)

“What do you mean? We’re half-way through the chapter. I thought we were going to finish it.”

“No.”

“Okay
... Because you have to get home for supper?”

“No. Yes.”

I was confused. Who wouldn’t be? “Which is it?” I asked.

“It’s yes. I need to get home.”

He put away his notebook and pushed back his chair without even looking at me. I shook my head and closed my laptop. I felt kinda hurt. But suddenly it seemed as though a fog had cleared inside my head. “No, hold on,” I said, and opened it again. “Leave if you like, but I’m staying.”

Noon
calmly put his hands together and closed his eyes. He looked so weird and yet so peaceful. After a couple of seconds his eyes snapped open again and he frowned at me. I smiled and it was like he realized he was being an asshole. “I apologize,” he said, and sat back down.

I had to admit it, I was crushing on him, and the strangeness was part of it. There was something about him that was incredibly attractive and yet incredibly foreign, almost alien. For the next
45 minutes we chatted and it was great. Okay, if I have to be honest, I chatted and he listened. He soaked up my life story with attentive ears, nodding and asking the odd question. Before I knew it, it really was time to leave. He offered to walk me home, and I agreed, my mental fog now completely replaced by a warm, fuzzy blanket of... what? I’d just met him. Snap out of it, Kari!

* * * * *

When I got in, the apartment was empty. I dumped my stuff and had a shower. I only realized as I was drying my hair that the apartment was
really
empty. Flash wasn’t there. The hairdryer was his nemesis, and the feud had being going on since he was traumatized by it as a kitten. But he couldn’t resist confronting it. Whenever I blow-dried my hair he would freak, hissing and arching his back, fur standing on end. But not this time.

I turned off the hairdryer and called his name. Nothing. I made little squeaking noises with my lips, walking from room to room. Okay, this was bizarre.
Where the eff could he be? There was only one sure-fire way of making him come running. I went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard where the cat food was stored. I shook the bag loudly. Silence.

Wait, there wasn’t silence.

There was a muffled voice coming from... coming from? I bent down to follow the sound. It was coming from the cupboard.

The cupboard was a medium-sized space, maybe three feet high and 18 inches wide, and as I stuck my head inside to listen I felt like I was somehow entering another world. It was a gut feeling. You know, the kind you can’t explain but know you should trust. Some people call it instinct, but
Mom explained to me once that the gut and the ancient lizard brain are linked. This is the “fight or flight” response that you feel when you’re threatened. It’s helped us survive over millions of years of evolution. And it’s rarely wrong.

So what was different in there? What was my subconscious reacting to? The smell. Yes, that was it – something smelled different in there, and it wasn’t cat food. Now the muffled voice was louder, more distinctive. And I could tell that there were actually two voices, a man’s and a woman’s.

I put my head in further and another part of my gut sent me a second message. The dimensions were wrong. The cupboard stretched back much further than it should have, back beyond the kitchen wall.

I withdrew and stood up. I opened the cupboard above it and moved the cereal boxes to one side. This one was only a couple of feet deep. Looking back into the cat food cupboard, it was obvious that it went back at least a foot more.

I stood with my hands on my hips for a moment, trying to process. And where on earth was Flash? I called his name again and listened. Suddenly the voices stopped. I bent down and put my head back in the cupboard. There was a stale smell, and... was that a draft? I reached inside and felt around. The cupboard was so deep it was hard to see the back clearly. I shuffled inside, resting on my forearms and prodding the back wall with my fingers. It moved slightly. I pushed harder, and with a groan it swung open at the bottom. It was hinged somehow at the top, like a large flap. I opened the flap wider and felt a distinct whoosh of cooler, damper air hit my face. I peered through the opening but it was pitch black inside. Then the voices started again, this time much clearer. I still couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was definitely a man and a younger woman talking.

Pushing the flap open even wider I realized that I could fit through the opening. The other side of the flap felt like a tunnel or duct the same width and height as the cupboard. The trouble was, it was too dark in there to explore it. I needed a flashlight.

Mom is nothing if not resourceful. There were always spare batteries in the house when I was a kid. A first aid kit that nurse-Mom whipped out at the first sign of fever. And a well-stocked emergency box in an easy-to-reach location.

Five minutes later I was back in the cupboard, flashlight in hand.

I wriggled inside on my hands and knees, then pushed the flap open again. I crawled through it, testing the strength of the surface beneath me as I went. The tunnel creaked a bit – I guess it was made of wood – but it seemed pretty firm. I advanced, the tunnel’s blackness stretching out in front of me. The flap swung shut and the dank air enveloped me.

I stopped and listened, probing the tunnel with the flashlight. It seemed to go on forever. “Flash?” I whispered loudly. But all I could hear were the echoey voices. I carried on crawling forward. They seemed to be getting louder. The young woman’s higher-pitched voice was easier to make out than the man’s gravelly rumble.

I thought I heard her say, “...control of it...here, I can get...here...make it...” Just snatches of sentences. The man said something in reply. When I was crawling, the noise my jeans made on the wood made it impossible to distinguish individual words in what the woman was saying. I shone the flashlight ahead of me. Was that a turn in the tunnel? As I got nearer, I could tell that there was a junction to the left in the tunnel up ahead.

I reached the bend and looked around it, the flashlight beam sweeping the tunnel walls. There was another long stretch that ended in
...? A bend or a drop? “Flash?” I whispered again and listened. Now both voices were more distinct. They were definitely coming from further along the tunnel.

“
...can’t stop them,” said the man.

“That’s just it,” answered the woman. Then silence.

I crawled onward, accompanied only by the swoosh and scrape of my jeans and shoes. Half a minute later I reached the end of this stretch of tunnel. Now there was a turn to the right, and a section that went upward. I raised my head to look up this chute. For a second my brain made a connection. That was it – garbage chutes! These big old buildings were usually equipped with them. Maybe that was what this was. But why did the tunnels go sideways? No, it made no sense.

I knelt at the junction, searching for an explanation. Then
, before I knew what was happening, I screamed. Something had dropped from the chute and landed in front of me. Something alive. I scrambled backward, heart in mouth, the flashlight making crazy-ass shadows on the tunnel walls.

In seconds I was back at the first turn, but as I tried to crawl around it, one of the belt loops on my jeans snagged on a nail. I tried to pull it off, frantic. I glanced back down the tunnel and saw a movement. It was coming toward me. It was
... Flash.

My limbs sagged, I stopped struggling, and the loop unhooked from the nail. The cat meowed and trotted up to me. Laughing in relief, I petted him. “You
... you... I love you!” I said, happy to have found him. And happy that he wasn’t a giant rat. Or something worse that the depths of my imagination had conjured up in my state of panic. He purred and snuggled against my nose.

“Kari.”

I froze.

It was the young woman’s voice. Distant, but distinct. I strained my ears to hear more but I was already far from the source of the sound
, and Flash’s purring obscured the rest of the words. But I know I heard it. I know I heard my name.

“Kari.”

I shuddered. This was so effed-up. Then Flash jumped off me, speeding back to the flap, and I realized that the second voice was Mom’s. I didn’t want her to know about the tunnel, so I crawled back toward the cupboard as fast as I could.

Flash was blocking the way.

“Move!” I whispered, pushing him to one side.

I grasped the bottom of the flap with my fingernails and pulled it up. Flash sprang through it and into the kitchen. I followed, carefully replacing the flap and climbing out.

Mom appeared in the kitchen, still wearing her jacket. “What are you doing?” she asked as I stood up and brushed myself down guiltily. She hung her keys on a hook by the door.

“Um
... feeding the cat,” I answered, pleased at my logical response.

“I mean, why are you holding a flashlight?”

I glanced down at my hand. Oh. Right. Think fast.

“There was
...” I fumbled for a credible reason. “There was... I... I... lost an earring.” Wow. Terrible reason. Luckily Mom’s usually impressive brainpower had been sapped by a long day at the office.

“Oh,” she exhaled, looking absolutely exhausted. “I need a good soak, honey.” She turned and left the room, her
weary voice receding. “Grab whatever you like from the freezer.”

“Okay,” I shouted after her. Suddenly I realized how hungry I was. I gave Flash his supper and then washed my hands at the sink, my thoughts still racing. As I soaped them, something occurred to me. They weren’t
really dirty. In fact, for a tunnel in an old building, the passageway I’d discovered was remarkably free of dust and cobwebs. It had clearly been constructed very recently. I looked back at the cupboard while Flash munched away in front of it. I dried my hands and leaned back on the counter, wondering. And more than a little bit scared.

* * * * *

I had weird dreams that night. In the morning I could only remember vague flashes and feelings. I was with Cruz and we were lost somewhere strange. Somewhere totally strange.

“What’s the matter, honey?” enquired
Mom as I prodded at my breakfast cereal.

“Nothing.”

I was a teenage girl. This was a normal response.

Mom busied herself with some ironing. She knew me well. She knew I would tell her if I had a real problem. But how could I tell her about what I’d seen since we arrived in
New York? The strange women outside The Warrington... the tunnel behind the cupboard... hearing my name? I didn’t want to sound crazy and I didn’t want her to worry about me. She had her new job to concentrate on and didn’t need me to distract her.

I pushed back my chair and tipped the remains of my cereal into the under-sink garbage. Flash meowed and rubbed up against my legs.

“Could you feed him?” asked Mom, setting the iron on its stand and holding up her shirt to check for wrinkles.

“Sure,” I answered, but held back before opening the cat food cupboard. Part of me was intensely curious but part of me didn’t want to know where that tunnel led.

Mom looked at me, frowning. “Honey? We’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I said, shaking my head. I opened the cupboard and dragged out the oversized bag of cat food. Mom had left the room and I couldn’t resist. I stuck my head inside. Between two hungry meows I was sure I heard the same voices.

I shivered.

Flash meowed again. I withdrew my head from the cupboard, filled the cat bowl and put the bag back inside. Definitely voices.

I slammed the cupboard door.

* * * * *

The next day when I got to school I waited for Cruz at the lockers. But the bell rang and he still hadn’t shown up. The hallway emptied of students and I looked at my watch pointlessly. Then he appeared, running toward me, rushing but not flustered. He could see that I was waiting for him, so he had no choice but to slow down as he reached me.

“Hey,” I ventured with a sympathetic smile.

“Hi,” he panted, flinging open his locker door and grabbing some books.

“Listen, I feel bad for you about last night,” I said. He ignored me. “At the café.”

He slammed his locker shut. “No biggie,” he sighed. “That shit happens to me all the time.”

“What do you mean?” I queried.

“We’re late.” He hurried toward the classroom door.

I jog
ged after him. “It looked like kinda a big deal at the time.”

Just as he reached the door he stopped and tur
ned to me with an intense look.

“
Das it, Kari. I just... I had a bad few days and sometimes... sometimes I snap and that’s what went down at the café. It blows cuz, man, I needed the money.”

“No prob. Everything okay?”

He looked down. Clearly everything was far from okay. I put my hand on his arm and his eyes shot back up at me. There was pain behind them. Real suffering. He pulled away and opened the door.