Karma (Karma Series) Page 2

  “Charlie?”

  Silence.

  I looked down at the phone to see “Call Failed” on the screen. No service? Shit! I walked around the parking lot with my arm outstretched until I saw some bars show up again and redialed.

  It rang once and stopped.

  “Hello?” I looked down at the screen. The call had failed. Again.

  “No, no, no!” I hit the send button again. This time I didn't get a single solitary ring.

  I kept redialing anyway, tripping on a dip in the pavement and losing a layer of skin in the process. I looked down at my knee briefly, just long enough to register that this new body could bleed, before I held the phone out and moved around the parking lot trying to pick up a signal again.

  The possibility that I was having a psychotic break seemed more and more likely. Maybe there hadn't even been a train accident.

  My head felt funny. Frantic, almost.

  I turned around, taking in the small building in front of me. It looked to have about twenty units, all with their own entrances. I could see the sand dunes on the other side. I looked at the key in my hand. A three was hand written on the tag attached.

  I knew this area well. It was just a town over from where I'd grown up and still lived. More importantly, Charlie's practice wasn't far from here. It was early afternoon. He'd be seeing patients right now.

  A car pulling in startled me as they leaned on their horn, signaling I was in their way.

  I moved onto the sidewalk, knowing for a certainty whatever I was, humans could see me. Harold had said I wouldn't be a ghost but if my human body was dead, how could they? Another check for the “psychotic break” column.

  I could walk to Charlie's office. If I couldn't get the phone to work, I'd get there in person. If these people could see me, so would Charlie.

  If I hurried, I could maybe get there before he heard from anyone else. This whole situation was crazy but he'd understand. Charlie always understood. Always listened to everyone. That's who he was. He'd help me figure this out and then he could call my parents.

  If I was having a delusional break from reality, he was a doctor. He would know what to do. I just needed to get to Charlie. He'd make this better.

  I broke into a run and realized I could move faster than I used to. That might qualify as a check in the “I'm really dead” column, but I decided to chalk that one up to adrenaline, since I didn't like that side of the list.

  My sandals kept sliding off until I abandoned them on the sidewalk and proceeded barefoot.

  His office was only a few miles away from here. I pushed my legs until I felt them burn and I then I pushed even harder. If I was dead, I didn't know how long I'd have before they identified the body and started informing the next of kin. And if I was crazy, at least I was getting some air before they locked me up in a padded room.

  I was dripping sweat by time I saw his building in the distance. My eyes frantically scanned the lot for his Audi. I was on the verge of crying when I noticed it tucked behind a huge SUV. Almost there, only five hundred feet left and Charlie would help me.

  I was running across the street when I saw him walk out the door and head towards his car, phone gripped in one hand, keys clenched in the other. His face was a worried scowl. He'd gotten the call.

  I tried to scream to him but nothing came out.

  He was going to get into his car before I could get to him. I was going to miss him.

  With a last push and everything I had left, I ran into the middle of the driveway exit with my hands up in the air, waving. He'd have to run me over if he wanted to get out.

  His breaks skidded to a stop in front of me. But at least he saw me.

  He rolled down the window. “Miss, please move. I've got an emergency.”

  He didn't recognize me. I'd already feared that might be the case. I didn't know what my face looked like but if my hands were any indication, it would be different as well. How could I explain that one away? A definite check for the “I'm really dead” column.

  I ran around to his door. Before I could touch the handle, I tripped and skidded to the ground.

  I looked up to see Charlie's face torn by indecision. I knew he wanted to leave but that's not who he was. He'd get out and make sure I was okay, a stranger fallen on the street.

  I'd hoped he'd recognize me. That some part of him would feel the connection there, even if I was different. How could he not sense me on some level? Just a hint of recognition, like when you pass a stranger on the street who you think you know but can't put a name to. But when I looked into his warm eyes, there was nothing, not the tiniest shred of recognition.

  Would I have known him if the situation had been reversed? I thought I would – hoped I would – but maybe not.

  Just as I expected, he got out and knelt next to me, scanning me in a clinical way for injuries.

  “You're okay. Just a couple of scrapes. I've really got to go.”

  The second he put a hand to me to help me up thunder clapped loud in the sky. And then a dark shadowing fell over him.

  And I knew right then and there, without a doubt, that if I did manage to communicate to him who I was, he would cease to exist as well. It wasn't a knowledge I could explain or put in to words, but the moment he touched me, I felt the impending threat to his life. The moment we touched, it was as if death had laid its cloak upon my shoulders. I would be Charlie's demise. It didn't matter what my past was or my future might be, in this moment, I would act as his reaper.

  I nodded and got to my feet, scrambling to put distance between the only person I thought might have been able to help me. With each inch, the feeling of death receded. Charlie would be safe as long as I stayed away from him.

  Without another glance at me, he got back into his car and pulled out of the driveway. I couldn't move.

  He was gone. My family, friends, career – all of them – just gone. In a single moment, my entire existence had ceased, except for one thing. Me. I was still here.

  I'd never touch him again. Never speak to him. He was my best friend and I'd never be able to call him up and tell him about my bad day or share good news.

  Correction, he had been my best friend.

  “Get in,” Harold said from behind me. “I'll have Hank drive you back.”

  I turned to see the Mercedes that had pulled up while I'd been otherwise distracted.

  “Are you the reason I couldn't speak? Behind the feeling of overwhelming death?”

  He shook his head and I saw a hint of weariness in his eyes I didn't think he meant to reveal. “You give me too much credit. Get in the car. I'll explain.”

  But I couldn't move. It was too much. Everything was too much. I felt like the world was spinning around me and I couldn't seem to breathe. My brain wanted to explode but couldn't burst through the bony confine of my skull.

  I was losing my mind. My anchors to life were being torn from me and there didn't seem to be a thing I could do about it.

  “No, you tricked me.” I stepped away from the Mercedes but I didn't know where to turn. I wanted to run but had nowhere to go.

  The door on the other side of the car opened and a man emerged. Dark clothing, dark hair, even his skin was tanned. It fit him. There was a severity to his presence that wouldn't have looked natural in white.

  He didn't shut the door after he got out. I might have to add paranoia to the mental break column. All I could think of was he was leaving it open so he could drag me into the car with him more easily.

  He had sunglasses on so I couldn't see his eyes, but I still felt the lethal intensity of his stare. I'd met men like this as a lawyer. I knew his type well and could spot it quickly. He wasn't the kind who needed a public defender like me; he was the type pulling the strings behind the scenes. I was used to defending the lackeys of men like this.

  If I was no longer human, what did that make him? Was he the source of the feeling of death before?

  “Was it you?” I didn't expand on my ques
tion. Didn't think I needed to and he quickly confirmed my assumption.

  “No. Death isn't my department.” He rested his forearms on the roof of the car between us as he took my measure, just leaning there all too still. “I know you aren't thinking clearly right now but you need to come with me.”

  No movement. Did he think I'd be lulled closer by his false stillness?

  “No. I don't.”

  I watched as he moved around the car, step by step he inched closer in my direction and I moved backward at the same pace, suppressing my urge to take off in a run. Afraid it might spur an instinct in him to chase.

  “You need to come with me,” he said, his hands reaching toward me slowly.

  “I'm not going anywhere with you.” Especially not you.

  “You are going into what we call soul shock. It happens with human recruits.”

  He stopped approaching, stood still, and even put his hands in his pants pockets. I wanted to scream at him that I'd studied body language my entire life. His artificially relaxed stance wasn't doing him a bit of good. In fact, it made me positive he was about to pounce.

  “Soul shock?” I'd sate my curiosity while I played his game and figure out my next move.

  “Yes. It's what happens as your mind adjusts to the transition.” He was a study in calmness. Every line of his body, every muscle he possessed, was relaxed. He was good at this game of pretend. I was better.

  He walked away a couple of steps, only to circle back and edge in a step closer.

  “Not going to happen.”

  “You have to come.”

  “Harold dropped me off. Why do I have to come now?” This just can't be happening. I've been drugged and this is an illusion.

  “Because this is what the new ones always do. We've given up trying to fight it. It's just easier to get it out of the way. But now you've got to come with us. You're starting to slip. I can't leave you here.”

  “I'm fine.”

  “You're hands are trembling. Soon, your entire body will be. That's the beginning. You aren't thinking clearly. That too will get worse. There is no alternative.”

  I scanned the area, deciding where I'd run when he finally made his move, which I was positive was imminent. He was much larger than me. If he got his hands on me, I'd lose.

  I took another step back and he mirrored me with a step forward. I needed to expand the distance. I needed a better lead.

  Then I spotted a couple walking down the sidewalk.

  He dropped his hands and shook his head. “They won't hear you. You're just making this more difficult.”

  “Yes, they will. Charlie did.”

  “Charlie saw you. He didn’t hear you. And the only reason that happened was you were getting a little help from us. You haven’t transitioned completely yet. You won’t be fully here until you do.”

  “You people are crazy. That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Then go ahead and scream.”

  I didn't need a second invitation. I let out a holler that should have been heard all the way to Florida but, even though there were people walking down the sidewalk across the street and cars passing continuously, it was as if I hadn't opened my mouth.

  I gripped my head frantically, wishing I could force the situation into something comprehensible.

  I turned my attention back to him to find he'd gotten closer. Harold was still in the car, observing everything from the rear window.

  “Don't come near me.”

  He still approached.

  “I don't know who you people are, or what, but you need to leave me alone.”

  “I can't leave you here.”

  His words had the opposite effect on me than he intended.

  “I told you, don't come near me!”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Not the answer I wanted to hear. Always the hard way, no matter what we do, it always goes down like this with transfers. Look at your hands. It's getting worse already.”

  I didn't need to look; I could feel the tremors running through my body. Nothing felt right anymore. They must have done something to me.

  I eyed up the expanse. I knew this area like the back of my hand. I could lose him if I got a lead on him.

  I took off in a sprint but only made it a few feet. An arm around my stomach hauled me off the ground and swung me back around toward the car and the open door. I knew it!

  I kicked and clawed at his arm but nothing budged him. I screamed out of principle, even though I feared it was futile.

  I jerked my head back to head butt him and heard a grunt.

  “Don't do that again. The only thing it's going to do is piss me off.”

  Now that I knew I'd found something effective, I tilted my head forward to try it again. He saw it coming though and I was on the ground and being pushed toward the car before I could take my shot.

  “Get. In.”

  I'm not a quitter. Never have been, never will be. If he wanted me in that car, he was going to pay dearly for it. I clung to the frame of the door as he physically pushed me through. I felt stronger than I'd ever been but I was still no match for the man trying to force me inside and I was losing ground at a rapid rate. I flipped and kicked out with my legs, I came within an inch of my target.

  He followed me inside the car and I immediately tried to make it to the other door but he caught me by my legs and yanked me back in.

  “Don't break her,” Harold said as I lay on my stomach on the one seat with a knee in my back.

  I'd forgotten he was even there until he'd spoken.

  “Don't bother getting up, Harold.”

  At least he was winded.

  “Seriously, Fate. If you injure her, it's going to be a lot of paperwork for me.” My cheek pressed against the seat cushion, I had a clear view of Harold as he waved the papers.

  “Unless you want to dodge a kick to the groin, shut up. She's my problem now, remember? I’m trying to help her and she almost took me out,” Fate said from above me, mostly out of sight but uncomfortably present in the pressure on my back.

  Harold merely “huffed” in response but said nothing while the bully on top of me continued.

  “You knew this was going to happen. This is why we shouldn't have transfers. If I let her up, she'll jump out the door. Is that better?”

  “I didn't get any other candidates. She wasn't my choice.”

  I was being pinned down by a psychopath. I felt like I couldn't get enough air in my lungs and I renewed my struggle in earnest.

  “Stop.” His knee pressed further into my back.

  “Look at her,” he said from above me. “She's a mess. You should just pass and send her on her way.”

  “It's too late now, anyway. She signed.”

  “You know as well as I do they never think logically right after they die. Just rip the contract up and send her back.”

  “I can't rip up the contract. She'll just have to adjust and deal until the trial period is over.” Harold was getting more and more flushed as the argument over me continued.

  “Give it to me and I'll do it.” Fate's hand reached out toward Harold, palm up and waiting.

  “I can't.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it's gone already.”

  “You're lying. It's not possible.” His weight lifted off me as he reached further toward Harold. It was just enough freedom to push the car door open and try and launch myself out of the moving car.

  I saw the road speeding by inches from my nose before a hand on my shirt yanked me back in before I face planted it on the asphalt.

  “Are you insane?” he said as he pushed me back onto the seat.

  I opened my mouth to scream again but shut it. I'd almost tossed myself face first out of a car going fifty miles per hour. I would've broken my neck.

  Maybe he was right, because that was a bit insane.

  “And it had to be her?” Fate said.

  “I showed you the memo. It had to be her and it h
ad to be you.”

  “Why? She's just a girl. Murphy or Crow could've handled this.”

  “I don't know. She's a transfer. I'm not sure they could.”

  “Get off of me,” I said.

  He leaned over, his face close to mine.

  “Are you going to be stupid? If you try and leap out of the car again, you are going to kill this body and effectively die twice today.”

  I didn't respond and he didn't let up.

  “I can't breathe.”

  “Are. You. Going. To. Be. Stupid? Answer me.”

  “No.”

  “I don't know if I believe you.”

  “I'm not going to jump out of the car. Now get off!”

  “And no more kicking.”

  I felt the pressure on my back retreat and I pushed up quickly. He was still sitting next to me, his side against mine, a looming threat. Or begrudging savior, considering I almost broke my neck, but I'd be quite happy to lose him and quick.

  The adrenaline of the fight leaving me, I started to shake even more violently. Tears were flowing down my face and I didn't care. I was starting to believe I had died. I was pretty sure I was also having a mental break of some sort. Well whoop de do for me, checks all around.

  I looked at Harold, trying to pretend Fate wasn't in the car.

  “What was that back there? That feeling of impending doom when I saw Charlie?” Even with my sanity teetering on the edge, I knew it wasn't just in my head. It had been palpable.

  “That was the universe at work. There are certain things that it will not allow. Know this, and know it well...it will never let you disclose any of its true secrets.”

  “What would have happened?”

  “Exactly what you thought. That's why you stepped away, isn't it?” Fate spoke this time.

  “Why did you just drop me off if you knew this was going to happen?” Even in my altered state, and I was positive I wasn't thinking right anymore, I could see it as the set up it was. They'd dropped me off knowing exactly what I'd go do.

  “Transfers are predictable.” I could almost feel the baritone of Fate's voice. “They all do the exact same thing. Sooner or later it happens so we try and get it out of the way early. It's normally messy but not usually this bad.”