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Flood Rising (The Water Keepers, Book 4)
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FLOOD RISING
The Water Keepers, Book 4
CHRISTIE ANDERSON
Copyright © 2016 by Christie Anderson
Smashwords Edition
First eBook edition: March 2016
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All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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For Jen and Brett
Your support and love means the world to me
CONTENTS
1. TESTING
2. LONG DAY
3. UNEXPECTED
4. JAX HIDES THE TRUTH
5. EXCHANGE
6. RAYNE SEEKS ADVICE
7. GLIMPSE
8. PARTY
9. ORION TAKES BLOOD
10. NAPLES
11. SATURDAY
12. ASH FINDS A SNEAK
13. MEMORIAL
14. ORION PROPOSES A PLAN
15. SEARCH
16. FAVOR
17. DINNER
18. ADVENTURE
19. MISSION
20. ESCAPE
21. CONFIDANT
22. DISTANCE
23. ASH MEETS HIS CONTACT
24. CHASE
25. INSIGHT
26. ASH GETS HIS CHANCE
27. THE DARKNESS
28. RAYNE SEES THE LIGHT
29. COMMUNICATION
30. RETURN
31. ADVICE
32. ANNOUNCEMENT
33. ORION GETS REPRIMANDED
1. TESTING
Lab rat. That was my new name.
Well, maybe more like pampered little lab poodle, but still, that didn’t mean this arrangement I had agreed to was like a walk in the park. In fact, it was downright exhausting. But I wanted to go to the Academy to become a Water Keeper, and in exchange the Council wanted to know the extent of my healing abilities. So, I agreed to let them study me.
My new life on the world of Ambrosia wasn’t even close to the way things used to be in Newport Beach. All of their testing on me was actually done here across the border back on Earth, but they never even let me step foot outside while we were here.
The Council even had a title for all the testing and research they were doing on me. They called it the PAS project, which stood for Projection and Self-healing. Basically, anything that had to do with me healing myself or projecting my healing powers onto anyone else, the Council wanted to know about it.
The truth was, I wanted to understand my abilities just as much as they did, and I was pretty sure the only place I could test them was here at the testing center on Earth. Of course, border patrol didn’t let just any old person through the Threshold gates. Each time I passed through that brilliant wall of watery light I had an entourage of guards alongside me. Orion said it was for my protection, that I was important. But I knew at least a few of them were there to make sure I didn’t run off to tell my Earth friends all the secrets of Ambrosia.
As the Head of Security, Orion oversaw all my sessions at the testing center. Today’s session started out like most of the others. Orion took his place in the observation deck while I followed Agent Kelsey—and all two hundred and fifty pounds of his muscle—down the concrete steps to the testing area where he stood dutifully nearby. As usual, one of the doctors was waiting there to strap me into a bunch of wires and monitors before we began.
When I was all hooked up and the video cameras were ready to roll, a team of doctors and scientists appeared through the double doors at the far side of the room, guiding a hospital bed toward the other set of monitors across the way. That meant I would be healing someone else today.
Every once in a while they asked me to undergo injuries myself to test my own healing capabilities, but those days weren’t exactly pleasant. At first they tried giving me varying levels of anesthesia to block the pain, but unfortunately, my body quickly developed a resistance. Medications and other substances meant to alter body or mind didn’t seem to work on me anymore. If they wanted to learn more about how my body could heal itself, I would have to suffer pain in the process. I tried to explain to them that I had been shot straight through the head at one point and recovered without a scratch, but apparently scientists prefer to see the proof themselves.
After one particularly disturbing session had gotten out of hand, Orion made it clear that any future sessions regarding self-healing would have to be approved directly through him. Now, almost all my days were focused on healing others.
I watched as the team of doctors worked around the unconscious man on the bed. He wasn’t very far from me this time, maybe fifteen or twenty feet. I thought it was odd, considering the last few weeks the test subjects had been moved farther and farther away from me each day to test the strength of my abilities from greater distances.
I felt my heartbeat quicken. There was something different about this man. I could sense something inside him that was different. My eyes shifted away, trying not to think about it. I wasn’t supposed to start the process until they had him ready.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder who he was. Test subject number twenty-seven. His energy was different than the others, heavier somehow.
I was supposed to report anything out of the ordinary during my sessions, anything that might increase their understanding of my abilities. But for weeks now I had been holding something back. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t report it. At first I wasn’t even sure I knew what I was feeling. It started out as nothing but impressions, vague feelings that weren’t clear.
Each patient had been unconscious, yet somehow I began to sense the state of their energy. Many were worried or grieved, others hopeful and at peace. The impressions were still somewhat unclear, but with each new patient my ability to perceive grew deeper. A few days earlier, one woman’s worry was undoubtedly for her child’s wellbeing. And just the day before, I had healed a teenage boy who I could tell was upset about his knee injury and something to do with sports. The details were foggy, though. I could only make guesses.
The only thing I knew was that this type of energy felt different than an illness or injury, much harder to figure out. Finding the source of physical damage was becoming like second nature to me now. The more I practiced, the easier it became. But this type of energy was more like a person’s spiritual essence—it was their being rather than their body.
This man’s being, his essence, made me nervous.
“Ms. James?” I heard a voice echo. “Are you all right?”
I looked up toward the observation deck, remembering that they could read every tiny fluctuation in my body with their machines—temperature, pulse, brain activity, nerve impulses, pretty much whatever they wanted.
I forced a smile and nodded back at them. “I’m fine. Ready when you are.”
A moment later, one of the doctors signaled for me to begin.
I closed my eyes and took in a breath, letting the ai
r exhale slowly until I was focused on the unconscious man across the room.
Immediately I knew he had been injured badly—a gunshot wound to the chest. I lifted my hand, but he was so close I didn’t need to reach out. Energy pulsed from my fingers as I made the connection between us, guiding the light forward from inside me to seek out the corrupted flesh within the man’s system.
It should have been routine at this point, the same methods I practiced day after day—find the damaged energy in the person’s body and pull it back into me, allowing the healing power within me to take care of the rest—but this time, some unseen force seemed to be fighting against me.
I reached out my arm, pulling harder, struggling to absorb the negative energy. This was different than the others. This felt wrong. The man’s entire body teemed with darkness, not just the wound. Malice and cruelty grew around me, swallowed me up like a black hole, dragging me deeper into an endless pit of hate.
Then I saw it, the image of a woman, terror wrenched across her face. It was just a glimpse, but I could feel it. The man hurt her somehow, ruthlessly, all with a sense of vile satisfaction.
I couldn’t take it. I tried to pull away.
But the darkness sucked me deeper.
I had felt this same terrible satisfaction before, the gleam in black eyes just before they moved to strike. A flash of Voss’s face blazed through my mind, the face from my nightmares. I had no idea if Voss had anything to do with this man, yet their darkness felt the same. The darkness was too deep for me to heal, too far gone to save.
I felt myself cry out, a sense of suffocation taking over. I had to fight the connection. I had to get away.
The wires attached to my body from the monitors tangled around my arms as my feet stumbled back. Commotion and people moved around me, but I couldn’t respond. My thoughts were stuck. My soul was stuck. The man’s energy from across the room still clung to me like scorching hot tar. I pulled and pulled to break free, searching in a panic from within, clinging to the light to push the dark away.
With one last groan I yanked the tethers of energy back, exerting all my might.
As if by some wonderful gift of mercy, the heaviness lifted. I took one sweet gasp of relief like a person saved from drowning, inhaling the air and the light with my last ounce of strength. And then, my body collapsed as my mind went blank.
2. LONG DAY
The woman’s face sent chills through my mind. She cried out in fear. “No! Stop! Please!” She pushed and clawed at me to get away. I looked down at my hands in alarm. I was holding her, pinning her down. I gasped and pulled back, then stood there, stunned, as she scrambled to her feet and ran away.
I was hurting her. Why? Why would I hurt her?
I wanted to help people. I wanted to be a Keeper. That’s why I was doing all this… all the training, all the healing sessions. I wanted to help people, not hurt them. Not let them die.
Another woman appeared, a different woman. She wasn’t scared like the first, just surprised and angry. She didn’t scream or cry. Instead, she fought back. She had training. This woman threw skilled punches my way. I took something from her and she wanted it back. But I wasn’t going to give it to her. I enjoyed the fight. I liked inflicting pain.
I swung with force and sent her to the ground. It was almost too easy.
And I liked it.
Why? Why would I like it? Why would I like hurting anyone at all?
I stumbled back, appalled. What was happening? What was I doing?
I reached into my pocket and pulled out an object. It was a metal bottle, a tiny flask with intricate designs. It was Healing Water; I could tell right away.
I squeezed the bottle in my palm with satisfaction and crept up a rickety flight of stairs, old metal stairs that creaked under my weight. I was going to sell the bottle. It was all part of the deal.
I burst through the door with purpose, without fear.
I was fear. I created fear.
A figure stepped out from the shadows, but it was wrong, not the man from the agreement. Someone here to steal what I had stolen.
I made my move and went for his throat.
Not fast enough.
The blast pierced my ears. My chest clenched in shock.
I stumbled with a groan, grabbed at my heart, as the barrel of his gun stared back at me.
Then, I saw the eyes, black, veiny eyes—Voss’s eyes.
The fear returned.
“No… you’re gone,” I whimpered. “You can’t hurt us anymore.”
Voss tore the Healing Water from my grasp and mocked me with a smile. “Oh, the hurt has just begun.”
“I won’t let you hurt anyone!” I cried. “I won’t let you.”
Voss grabbed my collar and yanked me to his face. “I’d like to see you try,” he said, “if you can find me.” His breath burned like acid on my cheek. “And when you see my son,” he said cruelly, “tell him… I’ll be waiting.”
Then, he disappeared, as he shoved me to the ground to die.
***
My eyes burst open and I gasped for air.
It felt so real. The metal vial in my hand, the pain in my chest… and the eyes. Voss’s eyes.
Agent Kelsey stood from his stool in the corner of the room. It was the same thing he did every day as soon as he saw me wake up.
I barely noticed. All I could think about was Voss.
I thought the nightmares were done with, left in the past when we moved across the border to the city of Banya. The first few weeks were so peaceful. My family was safe. Voss could never hurt us again. But ever since my parents left the city the nightmares returned, getting worse and worse each week. Now they were worse than ever.
But it never happened during the day like this before. Never after passing out from healing someone in a session.
We’re safe now, I told myself for the hundredth time. We’re safe.
The door opened across the room.
Orion’s smile was sympathetic as he entered. “Good, you’re awake,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
I still felt distracted as I replied, “I’m fine.”
Whenever I woke up from a session I was disoriented, today even more. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. I moved to sit up, trying to come back to reality, being careful not to disturb the wires attached to my head, chest, and arms.
Orion stepped forward to the foot of the bed. It was the same bed I always woke up in after a strenuous session, the hospital bed the doctors kept on standby for me in the room next to the testing area. They realized early on in their studies that I almost always passed out after using my abilities, especially when I healed someone from greater distances or whose injuries were more severe. Basically, the more energy I had to exert to heal someone, the harder it was for me to recover.
“Why don’t you stay and rest a minute,” Orion said. “I was hoping we could talk.”
I was more tired than I realized. With a small nod, I collapsed back onto the bed. Orion’s request to talk wasn’t anything new. I was used to answering plenty of questions during and after sessions.
The tone in Orion’s voice seemed off though, making me think there was something more he wanted to say.
Then I started to remember today’s session—the man with the dark, corrupted soul.
“If it’s all right,” Orion said, “I’d like to keep the monitors connected. We want to make sure you’re completely well before you leave.”
When I agreed, Orion pulled a chair to the side of the bed. Agent Kelsey didn’t move. I wondered if he ever even blinked. He just stood there in the corner like he always did, never leaving my side until I was safely back across the border each day.
Orion looked at me thoughtfully. “You know that I’m always here for you if you need to talk to someone, don’t you?” he began.
I watched him carefully as he spoke. Most of the time I did feel like Orion was being sincere, but every once in a while, I felt a sense of something else from
him. I still couldn’t figure out what it was. Sometimes it felt like guilt, or worry, or doubt of some kind. Either way, I sensed that he was conflicted inside. Of course, he was a man with many responsibilities and burdens. If I were him, I would be conflicted too.
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I nodded quietly, waiting for him to continue.
“I know your life has not been easy since you arrived in Banya,” Orion said, “and I want you to understand that, first, the Council is grateful for all you’ve been doing here, and second, that you’re not alone in this. I am here as both your guide and your advocate.”
His words affected me more than I would have thought. It made me realize I did feel somewhat alone since I moved to Banya.
Most of the time I was fine. I had Rayne—the most supportive, caring boyfriend in the world—waiting for me to walk back through the Threshold border every day, the second I was done here. And there was his younger sister, Violette, who was now my roommate and quickly becoming a wonderful friend—and who reminded me way more of Heather than I thought any girl from another planet could, at least in her sassy way of commanding people’s attention without even trying. And there was Jax, too. I never in a million years thought that a guy like him would turn out to be such a loyal friend.
But despite all this love and support around me each day, I still felt all the things that were missing. I missed Heather—a lot—and Newport Beach. Then there was my dad who I barely even started to get to know before he had to leave. And of course there was my mom… I missed her most of all. It was harder than I thought it would be. We weren’t even allowed to talk on the phone.
On top of all this, there was something happening inside me, something changing, something I wasn’t sure anyone could understand. Anyone at all. It really was a lonely feeling, knowing that no one else would ever understand what I was going through.