Short story project: Wrap up

The final installment I presented last week was not, in fact, where Claire's story ends; however, I don't intend to spend the next year posting 500 word sections of the manuscript...never mind that I never managed to finish the story. The manuscript as I left it is 47,000 words long. I don't remember the reasons why I abandoned it, probably one at least being that I didn't know how to finish it off. It's also possible that other stories were pressing at me as I've been bouncing between various new projects and my old standards of Cimwai's Bay (and its sequel), and The Cure (and its sequels), for several years.

At the point of which I left off, Claire does not leave without Jason. She's too shook up from her narrow escape that she doesn't feel capable of taking off and instead returns to his glamorous penthouse apartment. Over the next several days they plan to scope out, and break into the Homian Power research facility which is located on an island just off the shoreline of the city. I think I managed to get them in and out of that experience (narrowly, of course), but that's where I ran out of steam. I had some intentions of re-introducing Claire to her mother, but never figured out the final showdown between her and the Homain Power, powers that be.

Claire's story came up out of the idea to simply write a story about a girl who could fly (much like how Ava came about from wanting to write about a girl whose hair turned green). I made her a librarian since that is my background as well, and she lives in a city that somewhat resembles Toronto (although when I thought of the library where she works, I more of thought of the Milner in Edmonton than any location in the GTA). At one point I attempted to turn the manuscript from an adult read, to young adult tale, reducing Claire's age to that of a university student, and omitting her habit of smoking (there's still sex, however).

What's next? My blog will probably go back to a casual record of my life in Somerville for the time being. I don't promise any consistent posting schedule since my free time, or more specifically the free time with which I feel like writing, is pretty scare at the moment. I'm currently balancing two part-time jobs, and thus working more hours than I did when I was full time at the University of Alberta. For writing? I'm in the process of writing a straight-up romance about a circus (involving a number of aerial performers, of course). It's actually in the editing phase and I've made a very laid-back goal of trying to submit it to a publisher by the fall. We'll see if I make it.

If you haven't read my short story project, but are now curious, you can head back to Part 1, by clicking here.

Ciao,

Andrea

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 17

I strode across the lobby with as much confidence as I could muster.

“What’s your hurry?” Bailey caught up to me, and clamped his hand onto my shoulder.

“It’s getting late.” I eyed the hand anchoring me to my spot. I couldn’t tell from the tone of his question whether he was after me as a woman, or as an illegal intruder.

“It’s not even nine.” Baliey said. “There’s no one else here—and I know there are couches in the executive offices.” His hand drifted down my back and rested on my butt.

I could, as suggested, retire to one of the executive offices, but where would it end? What was I willing to do to make sure I walked out of this building alone? What would happen if I said no upfront? Did Bailey really believe me that I was a new employee at Homian Power, or was he jerking my chain, trying to get as much out of me as he could?

“I’d better not.” My voice cracked. “It would be just my luck to get caught in my new bosses’ office.” I searched blinding with my hand, my arm twisted behind me, for the elevator button. I found it.

“Hm.” Bailey removed his hand from my backside and crossed his arms over his chest.

The elevator chimed and the doors swooshed open. I smiled as I backed in. “Maybe some other time then, when you’re no longer on the bottom rung.” The guard’s voice didn’t ring with humour or enthusiasm.

            “A date then,” I said as I pressed the button for the main floor, then held down the one to close the door. Once I was alone, and the elevator was on its way down, I sunk to my knees. I remained that way, curled up tight for the whole of the ride. My head hung forward, my shoulders hunched as I tried to get a handle on my breathing. When the elevator halted on the ground floor, I forced myself to my feet and staggered across the lobby and out onto the street. I stumbled all the way to the alley without realizing where my body was taking me.

            “Clare?” He had waited for me. “Claire, are you all right? Did you get it?”

            I could sense that Jason was close, although I couldn’t see him. It was too dark…and my sight had gone blurry. Then a pair of strong, warm hands grabbed me by my forearms as my knees gave out, pulling me into a hug, rather than allowing me to sink to the pavement. I hadn’t been held so close by someone in years. Not since my father’s funeral, and my mother had said goodbye to me at the train station.

            “Clare, are you all right? Are you hurt? You’re shaking.” Jason attempted to pull me tighter to him, but I shoved him away with as much strength as I could summon.

            “I am never, ever doing something like that again.” I tossed the thumb drive at Jason. It bounced off his chest, then clattered to the ash fault. “I want no further part in this. Don’t ever call me, or wait for me at the library again or I’ll call the police. Goodbye.” I kicked off my shoes, abandoning them in the alley, then took a series of running steps to get myself into the air. It required all my remaining energy to take flight, maybe it was the excess adrenaline that helped me manage it, but I was aloft, I was free, and I was going to crash as soon as I reached my apartment.

The end!

Well, not really the end of the whole story, but the end of this part of the story.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 16

I clicked around on the desktop icons, but there wasn’t anything immediately apparent that might lead me to the desired information. If this was my computer, I’d keep important work numbers and addresses in a spreadsheet. Opening Excel I scanned over the recently opened files list.

“Bingo,” I whispered. The second file from the top was labelled “Homian Power Site Addresses.” There were multiple sites? That could make things tricky. I checked my time: it was passed eight-thirty. I’d been in the building for twenty minutes already. Would Jason actually leave like I’d told him to, or would he wait in the alley all night? Worse, would he attempt to storm Homian Research in search of me?

I removed the only other item hiding in my pocket, a thumb drive, and plugged it into the computer. In under a minute I’d made a copy of the file, and was giving myself another five to see if there was anything else useful before I logged out and made my escape. I saved a couple more files to my drive just for the heck of it, returned it to my pocket, then sat back in the chair and sighed. Had it really been that simple? I probably shouldn’t relax just yet. I stood, straightened my skirt then walked toward the glass door, breathing easier than I had all night. As I reached to push the door open it swung wide from the other side. In front of me, blocking my way was Bailey Cousins.

“Good evening, Ms. Banks,” he said with a grin bordering on menacing spread across this face. “Nice to see you again.”

I smiled. “Nice to see you too, I was just on my way out.” Was he going to detain me?

“How long did you say you’ve been working with Homian Power?” Bailey leaned against the door frame, his arm stretched over head, totally blocking the way.

“Just a few days.” I was the mouse trapped in a cats clutches. I swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump forming in my throat, then leaned in a little closer to Bailey. Hopefully I didn’t appear as robotic as I felt.

“Hm.” Bailey, who was easily over six feet tall looked down at me. “Funny thing—I checked the building personnel files and I couldn’t find a Serena Banks anywhere on the list.”

Fuck. I had to suppress the chill that tingled at my spine, as I desperately tried to think of a reasonably lie. “I’m recently divorced. All my ID is still under my husband’s name, Parker.”

“Recently divorced?” Bailey reached out and played with the collar of my coat.

My blood turned to ice. How was I going to get myself out of here?

I stepped even closer to Bailey, so that my body was pressed up against him. “Very recently.” Then I slipped passed the guard and squeezed through the doorway into the elevator lobby. I had turned, looking over my shoulder. “Perhaps I’ll see you around sometime?”
To be continued...look for more of the story on Tuesday, May 13th, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 15

“Sorry, Miss.” The man paused as he looked me over from head to toe. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

I smiled again. “I’m new.” I tugged at the end of my braid, curling the end around my index finger. “I forgot a file I need to work from home.”

“Just started and already putting in overtime.” The guard chuckled as he leaned in close to me, reaching around me to press the elevator button. His face was inches from mine.

I laughed. “You know how it is, start a new job and you have to work twice as hard as everyone else until you’re no longer on the bottom rung.” I carefully stepped around the man, giving him a little curtsy that I hoped looked cute, then strode toward the double doors of Homian’s offices. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” the guard said as the elevator doors swung open. “What was your name again?”

I pivoted, almost loosing balance on my high heels. My cheeks flared hot, but hopefully the man couldn’t see from his place across the room. “Serena Banks.” I flashed my biggest smile yet as I delivered the name of my first year dorm roommate.

“Bailey Cousins.” Mr. Cousins delivered a crisp salute in my direction then stepped onto the elevator.

I released a huge gush of air once the elevator readout showed its occupant was travelling downward. One obstacle down, now I had to actually get into the offices. Was the card of a girl who’d disappeared weeks ago really going to let me in? They must have deactivated it, or put a flag on it to alert someone if it was used. Turning to the doors once more I reached for the card reader fixed to the right side of the entrance. I swiped the card. The light on the side of the readers flashed yellow then beeped red. I peeked over my shoulder to see if the elevator was still on its way down—it was. I swiped the card a second time, slower, making sure the whole card passed through the reader. The flight flickered yellow, and this time it glowed green.

Relief flooded me as I grabbed the handle of the door, then accidentally flung it open so hard it crashed into the wall behind it. My heart beat slowly slightly, at least so it no longer felt like it was going to leap from my chest. I might be able to do this after all.

I pulled the slip of paper that held my instructions and passcodes out of my pocket. I was to search the main administrative computer. When I looked up from the paper I realized the enormous glass-topped desk in front of me bore a brass plate that read “reception.” This must be it. I rounded the corner, plopped myself into the ergonomically shaped chair, then giggled the mouse to wake up the computer. The password screen popped up and I carefully typed in the twelve digit code I’d been given. After another whirr from the hard drive, the user settings loaded—I was in.

To be continued,...look for the next installment on Thursday, May 8th, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 14

I set my gaze straight ahead and walked toward the open sidewalk.

“Claire?” Jason voice sounded uncertain, almost choked.

I paused and pivoted, hands on my hips. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

I shrugged. “Don’t mention it.” I turned and walked swiftly so he couldn’t interrupt me again, disrupt my resolve to get this job over and done with.

When I reached the mouth of the alley I stopped, and peaked over my shoulder. If Jason was still there, he’d hidden himself well. I rounded the corner of the tower and breathed deeply, trying to keep my heart rate under control—innocent people weren’t flushed and out of breath when they showed up at the office late on a Friday night. I would have loved a cigarette, but I left them at home.

The walk to the entrance of the Sears Tower lasted long enough for me to blink. Despite my efforts, by the time I rested my hand on the cross bar of the revolving doors I was near hyperventilation. I took another long, slow inhalation, lifted my chin parallel to the ground, and strode through. If you acted like you were supposed to be somewhere you weren’t, people would be less suspicious of you.

The elevators were on the opposite side of the lobby, straight across from the main doors. As I crossed the cavernous lobby, my heels clacked against the marble floors, making such a racket I wouldn’t have been surprised if a security guard would pop up out of nowhere and arrest me. I reached the elevators unscathed and jabbed the call button. A moment later the elevator arrived. Selecting the twenty-second floor the doors slid closed and I was on my way up.

Like the walk to the front doors, the elevator ride was alarmingly short. When the doors swooshed open I was able to take one stride before I froze.

“Good evening.” A man dressed in a khaki shirt and pants blocked my way to the Homian office door, which I could see behind him. He looked like a security guard, but he also could have been the man I saw fire on Jason that night a week ago—I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him, and hopefully he hadn’t gotten a good look at me either.

“Good evening.” I said, stepping again, bringing myself within arm’s reach of the guard. “You scared me.” I smiled broadly, and fluttered my eyelids for good measure.

To be continued...look for new content on Tuesday, May 6th, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 13

I tucked the last stray stands of hair into my braid then grabbed a lint brush and gave my blazer a couple of go-overs. The last time I wore these clothes was at the interview that garnered me my current position with the public library. Now I’d be using them to commit a felony—or was it multiple felonies? Breaking and entering,...I planned to snoop, but not actually remove anything from Homian’s offices, so that seemed like one felony, unless this could be consider industrial espionage.

I grabbed a grey trench coat from the hall closet, then took one last look around my apartment. The lights and stove were off, and my computer was in sleep mode. Sighing, I headed out the door, locking it behind me.

In the alley behind my apartment building I took of my heeled shoes, holding one in each hand then closed my eyes. In my mind I pictured each bone in my body, imaging them full of holes like a birds. I imagined my lungs swelling with air, picking me off the ground the way a hot air balloon would its basket. Slowly I rolled onto my toes, until they could no longer touch the ground, and gradually I gained altitude.

In the distance I could see the Sears Tower—causing my stomach to flip. Why had I agreed to this again? Because I was a sucker, and the picture of the pretty girl in my trench coat was convincing. How did I know this wasn’t an elaborate trap?

Once I reached the Tower, I manoeuvered myself toward the alley where I’d first met Jason. As I descended, I peered over my toes to spot the ground and watch for possibly witnesses. The alley looked empty from my vantage point, several stories up, so I focused my energy into my feet, pushing against the air as I continued to lower myself down. I tightened my abdominal muscles to keep myself upright, and prepare for the landing that was soon to follow. When my toes brushed the ground I relaxed all the muscles I’d been holding tight, and settled onto my legs, which had been inactive during the journey.

“Wow, Claire. You look great. If I hadn’t seen you land, I wouldn’t have believed it was you.”

I scowled, but didn’t respond. He must have been hiding, possibly behind the dumpster a few feet away. I dropped my shoes to the ground and stepped into them.

“Ah come on, Claire.” Jason stepped toward me, motioning as if he wanted to grab my wrist or shoulder, but ended up shoving his hand in his pocket. “Sorry. Thanks for not being too late, I wasn’t looking forward to waiting for you all night.”

“I’d be more suspicious if I was lurking around Homian’s offices at midnight, don’t you think?” I checked my watch: quarter past eight. “I’m going in. If I’m not back in an hour, just go. I’m probably not coming out on my own, and you’ll have another person to try to rescue.”

To be continued...look for another installment of the story on Thursday, May 1st, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 12

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, anchoring me to my spot.

“Please don’t take off.”

I sighed. “I won’t. Not here. It's still daylight.”

“Do you trust anyone?” Jason released the pressure from my shoulder as his hand slid down to the crook of my elbow. A tingling sensation washed over my skin, unaccustomed to such close contact with another person, even if it was through the fabric of my jacket.

“I trust me.” I pealed Jason’s hand from my arm.

“That must be lonely.”

Oddly, I was disappointed he didn’t try to touch me again. What was I thinking? Jason was trouble. I was sure. And we were trying to rescue his girlfriend. I shook my head to dislodge the confusing thoughts that lingered there and continued walked. “What do you want me to look for when I break into Homian’s offices?”

Jason dug through his pockets, and after a moment held out a folded sheet of paper. “All I want is the location of Homain’s other research facility—the one where the conduct human research.”

“And how do you expect me to find that out?” I’d practically been reeled in now. All I had to do was wait to be gutted and placed in the frying pan—which was probably what would happen when I tried to sneak into Homain.

“Check the administrative files. I’m sure files and records are being couriered back and forth between locations. Even if the assistants don’t know what’s going in those facilities, they have to know their addresses.”

“Hm.” I picked at a fleck on my jacket.

“The sooner the better.” Jason said as he tentatively extended his hand and the paper further toward me.

I snapped the sheet up between my index and middle fingers. “Fine. I’ll go tonight.”

If I bothered to look, I suspect Jason was grinning from ear-to-ear. As it was, his tone of voice was awfully jovial. “Prefect. Great. Their offices are on the twenty-second floor. Agatha’s card should get you in, and don’t worry the cards just active the doors, they don’t tell the security system who owns the card. All the passwords are that paper. We just need the location of their other research facilities. And…”

As Jason paused I could almost feel his gaze as it swept me over from head to foot.

“Yes?”

“If you could wear something a little more professional…”

I frowned, but understood. I dressed like a poor grad student. “For the record, I think this is a bad idea.” I slipped the sheet of paper into my shoulder bag.

“You’ll be fine.” Was Jason an unsquashable optimist, or was he stupid?

I shrugged. “Whatever.” Then I turned preparing to leave.

“I’ll see you tonight…at the Tower.”

I didn’t look back, but kept walking toward the subway entrance a half a block ahead.

“What time—?”

“Whenever I get there.” I jogged the remaining distance to the stairs, leaving Jason behind me on the sidewalk.

To be continued...look for more of the story on Tuesday, April 29th, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 11

Not until my phone read 6:00 p.m. did I headed for the elevator and down to the lobby. The least I could do was make Jason wait it out a couple more minutes, make him wonder if I’d changed my mind. Of course, when I finally rode the elevator down to the main floor of the library, and the doors slid back, he was waiting for me.

“Don’t you have a job?” I said once we were within a reasonable speaking range from each other.

“Nice to see you, too.”

Jason smiled, but I kept my expression neutral. Seeing Jason wasn’t nice. Seeing him meant I was jeopardizing my freedom.

“Let’s walk.” I kept my tone even and severe. I wanted to remain in control of the meeting as much as possible. I rushed past Jason, down the steps to the sidewalk. I headed off at a random direction, keeping my eyes forward. Looking too much at Jason and his expressive features might cause me to lose my focus.

“Could we sit down?” Jason easily kept up with my brisk pace.

“No.” I paused on the street corner as I waited for the light to turn green. “I’ve been sitting all day.” The light turned and I charged across the intersection.

Jason stuck his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. “How do I know you won’t just take off if you don’t like what I have to say?”

“You don’t.” I checked my watch. “I have somewhere else to be in an hour, so hurry up.”

Jason grunted. He probably didn’t like my unwillingness to commit, but that’s the way I was going to play. I’d been keeping my secret for nearly twenty years and I still walked the streets because I kept to myself.

“What’s the plan?”

He snuck a peek over his shoulder before he spoke. No doubt Agatha had spent a lot of time checking for eavesdroppers who may or may not have been there before she disappeared. “You’ll need to sneak into the Homain Research office—I’ve got a list of computer passwords.”

“Won’t they have changed the passwords by now?” Maybe I could reason myself out of this predicament.

Jason shook his head. “I’ve got it covered A friend of Agatha’s can get them and pass them on to me.”

“Convenient.” I checked out the store front displays rather than look at my companion.

“Maybe.” Jason’s voice took on a hard-edge. “Or maybe she’s just worried about what’s happened to Agatha. Didn’t that occur to you? That people could be nice with no strings attached?”

"No, there are always strings attached," I said then turned the corner.

To be continued...look for new content on Thursday, April 24th, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 10

I didn’t return to my apartment until early the next morning. Once the sunset I spent my entire evening sitting on top of the Sears tower, the supposed location of Homian Power Research. What did they want with me? Agatha Morland? Or others who had special powers? I stayed on the rooftop until my teeth chattered and my fingers and toes had gone numb. When I arrived home I could barely manipulate my keys and fit it into the lock on my door. I went straight to my bedroom, peeled of my chilled clothing and replaced them with a thick terrycloth robe then crawled into bed.

Friday morning I made my coffee at home and as I approached the library I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of Jason. He had proven himself persistent thus far, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find him waiting for me now. I found no hint of him. Not his expensive jacket, nor his fine leather shoes. A small part of me was actually disappointed not to find him. How could I be disappointed? He way annoying, and he was going to wind up getting me into trouble. I dashed up the stars and crossed the lobby toward the elevators.

I’d only had enough time to take off my jacket and hang it off the back of my chair when my phone rang. I stared at the object sitting on my desk. No one called me. If anyone wanted to talk to me, they either walked over to my desk or e-mailed me.

“Good morning, Claire Lamont speaking.” I held my breath as I waited for the reply.

“Hi Claire.” It was Jason.

I sighed as I dropped to my seat, swivelling the chair toward the window and away from my coworkers. “How did you get this number?”

“It was easier than you might think.”

“Hm.” I said. The library website provided a great deal of information if you knew where to look for it.

“Have you thought about our talk last night?”

“Yes.” I had had plenty of time to think about it, although I hadn’t devoted much time to answering the question, since I knew what I’d do almost immediately after taking off last night.

“And?”

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening, not that my coworkers would have understood much from my end of the conversation. “I’ll need further instructions.”

“I knew you’d help.” Jason’s voice rang with triumph.

“I’m done at 5:30.” I kept my voice flat.

“Can we meet sooner?”

“No. And don’t call this number again.” I swung around in my seat to face the rest of the office and hung up. Closing my eyes, I leaned my elbows on my desk and rested my forehead in my hands. I stayed this way from a few seconds as a wave of nausea passed over me.

To be continued...look for more of the story on Tuesday, April 22nd, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 9

*So I missed last week, sorry about that...I'm working 2 part-time jobs at the moment. I'll keep these posts going until I've wrapped up the portion of story I'm intending to share.*

“You can’t ignore this.” Jason was close behind me.

I closed my eyes, and imaged what I’d have to do to ignore it. I’d have to leave the city, fine some obscure small town in the middle of nowhere—in need of an experienced librarian. “Do you want to rescue just your girlfriend, or anyone else who’s been kidnapped by Homain?”

“Everyone, of course.” The crack in Jason’s voice told the truth, that his girlfriend was his main concern, and if anyone else was freed in the meantime that would be acceptable.

I pivoted so I faced Jason, crossing my hands over my chest as I moved. His eyes were focused on the ground, turned slightly away from me like he might be on the verge of more tears. I sighed. “Do you have a plan?” I was flirting dangerously close to be sucked in.

Jason’s mouth opened, but he didn’t immediately reply.

“You don’t have one.” I sipped my coffee. Great, just great.

Jason swallowed, then stepped toward me, reaching inside his jacket as he moved. Is this it then? Is he from Homian Power Research? Am I about to get shot point-blank? I had enough time to step, or more like stumble backward before he withdrew his hand to hold out an ID card.

I stuttered as I released my breath.

“I need someone to go back into the Homain Power offices and locate their actual research lab.” Jason didn’t seem to notice my momentary freak out, or at least politely ignored it.

“What do you mean someone? Didn’t you say the security man could identify me?” I eyed the ID card.

“They chased me out of there once, I can’t go back.” He shoved the badge in my hand and totally ignored my question.

I held it gingerly, like it would explode in my hands, as I turned it over. A picture of a young brunette was printed on it, with the name Agatha Morland written beneath. “You’re girlfriend?”

Jason didn’t look directly at me, he was more focused on the wall behind me. “I found this card inside her day planner. She'd tucked it under her pillow.”

“Convenient.” I kicked at a loose chunk of ash fault. Neither of us seemed willing to face the other.

“Will you help me?” The words were nothing more than a whisper.

The small part of me that cared, the ounce of compassion still lingering inside me was gaining the upper hand. How could I look at the picture of smiling Agatha Morland and say no? I clenched my fingers tight around the card so the thin plastic edge dug into my palm. “I’ll have to think about it.” I said, then turned, dumped my coffee on the ground, and with two long strides, shot into the air.

To be continued...look for more of the story on Thursday, April 17th, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 7

I stayed at my desk until five-thirty, once everyone else in my department had left. I held my breath as I rode the elevator down to the first floor. Would he be waiting for me, or had he taken the hint that I wanted to be left alone? When the doors slid open, I had to prevent myself from sprinting to the exit, but then immediately wished I had let loose when I heard my name called from somewhere off to my right.

“Claire.”

I bit my knuckles to muffle the scream that rose to my lips. I whipped around on my heel in time to see him crossing the library lobby. “Are you always this desperate and stalker-ish?” My voice sounded more like a hiss than a regular human voice.

“When my girlfriend’s life is at stake.” He bit his lip, and looked away for a moment, like he was trying to stifle a sob.

Uh-oh, tears. Even me, with my crusty, hard exterior hated seeing someone cry. I swallowed and shifted my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, but I can’t—”

“This affects you too, you know.” If I wasn’t mistaken, Jason’s voice broke slightly. “Their security man might be able to recognize you, and if he does, they’ll come for you.”

I curled my fingers into fists, as I slowly reorganized my mental armour. I wouldn’t relent. Distance was my only defense. I’d kept my parents aloof for years. As far as I knew, they had no idea of the freak show their daughter had turned into. It was safer for me, and for them. I turned to go. “They’ll only come sooner if I help you.”

“At least if you helped me you’d know who and what you’re facing.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly. He was right, kind of, anyway. If I helped, I might have the chance to be prepared for a potential threat. Know who they were and what they intended to do with me once they caught me. I wanted to think if they caught me, but that was dangerously optimistic. I exhaled, my eyes still shut. “There’s a small coffee shop a few blocks away.”

I didn’t wait for a response. If he wanted to talk to me, he would follow, and sure enough, after a few strides I heard his steps fall in synch with mine. Neither of us spoke as we walked, which suited me fine. My nerves grew unsettled with each block. I never went out to coffee with anyone, let alone an attractive young man who knew what I was, and wanted to help me—for my help in return.

To be continued...look for more of the story on Thursday, April 3rd, 2014.

Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 6

I took several long steps back. “I don’t want your help.”

Jason stared at me, leaning forward like he wanted to eliminate the gap between us, but he held his ground. “I can help people like you.”

People like…me?

“Didn’t you think there were others?” Jason kept his voice low as he stepped closer.

Every inch of my body screamed to back away, to run back into the library, but I stayed put, crossing my hands over my chest. “Of course,” I said, keeping my voice low, and my gaze locked on this strange young man. “Of course, I assumed—”

Jason opened his mouth.

“—but I don’t care.” I pivoted and my heel, headed for the library at full steam, chucking my cigarette on the pavement when I reached the wide front stairs. I took two steps at a time, gasping a little in my hurry.

“How can you not care?” The ever-athletic-seeming Jason had caught up to me, and kept pace. He didn’t even have the decency to appear out of breath.

“Because I don’t.” Because in this case, I doubted safety was in numbers. Groups of people with “special skills” would create a larger target for someone to hunt us down; to capture us and lock us away in the top secret government facilities I imagined had to exist somewhere. Living on my own meant that I had no one but myself to depend upon. I felt safe alone.

“You don’t, or you won’t?” Jason stepped in front of me, barring my way—his habit of doing that was growing annoying.

“Take your pick.” I said, then pushed past him. I was only a couple of strides away from the entrance.

“Stop pretending you don’t care, Claire.”

I froze, my hand partially extended toward the door. “I’m not pretending.” I clenched my teeth.

“Then why are you still standing here?” An irritatingly smug smile spread across Jason’s face.

I levelled my best glare at my…companion…as the muscles in my jaw grew sore. Why was I standing here? Maybe because Jason was pleasant to look at, or because despite my best efforts, I actually needed human contact, so much so that the desire to be touched was building into a humming sensation across my skin. Or, it could be because he was so infuriating I couldn’t think rationally.

“Look,” Jason inched closer to me, checking over his shoulders then mine as he moved. “The other night, when we met, I was trying to break into the research offices where my girlfriend used to work. She disappeared—”

“So call the police.”

“She was like you, special.” His voice was so low I could barely make out what he said. “She could run fast. Faster than the high speed trains in Japan, and her employers found out.”

“I-can’t-help.” I clenched everything. My teeth, my fists, every joint tensed. Then I forced myself forward, my gaze locked straight ahead of me. I wasn’t going to get involved in this. I yanked back one of the front doors to the library, my feet pounding against the floor as I steam-lined it to the elevator. I didn’t bother to check behind me to see if Jason followed, I sensed by the cool breeze at my back that he wasn’t there.

To be continued...check back for more of the story on Tuesday, April 1st (no fools!)