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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Souls of the Departed - Part 7
"Ties that Bind"
Miss Parker stood in the kitchen of her guest house throwing out the remains of her Chinese take-out dinner. She grabbed the still half-full bottle of wine and went upstairs to her room. She'd been doing nothing big the last few days: just walking or driving aimlessly around the city, doing 'sightseeing', though not really caring for the tourist attractions she passed. She was more interested in the everyday life of Washington.
She enjoyed being a 'normal' person, doing normal stuff. But while discovering the city, she paid particular attention to all "for rent" or "for sale" signs on all the front lawns in the residential areas.-- not yet sure if she really wanted to stay here, but interested anyway. She had time. She still had three weeks booked and Mr. Ledeen had told her that she always could extend her reservation.
Taking large gulps of her wine, she undressed and got ready for bed. It was the second bottle. Miss Parker hoped the amount and the pace would help her find some sleep. The now almost drunk woman got into bed, pulled up the covers and curled up, hoping for the impact of the alcohol. And like every night, before closing her eyes, she whispered a soft 'goodnight'.
It was her way of saying 'I miss you' to her mother, her father, Thomas, the friends she'd left and to the one man she hadn't said goodbye to.
****************
Four people in four different beds, in three different states found it harder to get some decent sleep than was usual. None of those four was actually known to ever sleep through one night, but this was different from their usual nightmares. This time none of them had a nightmare. No one could really fall asleep at all. They all were rather engulfed by a feeling of uneasiness, of trouble looming just around the corner.
For two of them the intensity was almost unbearable. A hardly discernible voice seemed to constantly whisper incomprehensible words inside their heads. It was driving them crazy.
**********************
The woman now living under the name of Celia Ward sat in an easy chair with a glass of vodka in her hand. It was past three in the morning. She just couldn't sleep. It had been the fourth consecutive night and all the alcohol in the world wasn't helping. As soon as she had closed her eyes, this unidentified creepy feeling rushed over her. And then there was this voice inside her head. Any thought of sleep was wishful thinking.
***********************
The man who grew up as Bobby Bowman, and now was known as Mr. Lyle lingered on the couch that used to be his sister's. He had a laptop in front of him and browsed through the newest websites that offered men happiness with the click of a mouse. One beautiful woman after the other appeared on the screen, all of them of clear Asian descent.
He couldn't sleep and he couldn't understand why. The first few nights after moving into his sister's former house - his mother's sanctuary - he had slept better than ever before in his life. But this was the fourth night that this incredible sense of doom washed over him as soon as he had closed his eyes. And there was this voice. It was something he had never experienced before. Nothing he did helped to quiet it, helped to calm his nerves.
***********************
Jarod threw back his blanket with an exasperated sigh. 'Here we go again,' he thought. This had to stop. He hadn't had that much trouble sleeping since he got out of the Centre. Trying to not wake anyone up, he descended the stairs. In the dark living room he saw a slight gleam of light peaking our from beneath the door leading to the kitchen.
Quietly, so he wouldn't startle what was probably his father, he opened the door and realized that it was his younger brother. Joshua sat on the table with a large bowl of ice cream in front of him.
"Couldn't sleep either, eh?" the young man asked in a low voice. Just then Jarod noticed the dark circles around Joshua's eyes. He had an impossible weary look on his face, and the older brother knew it was mirrored on his own.
"Yeah and by the looks of it, you had trouble to do so for days, too!"
Jarod heated up a pot of milk, got his laptop out of the case and settled down. In less than a minute he entered the Centre mainframe. Whenever he felt like that, it was best to check up on his enemies.
While going through the data he conferred with Joshua about possible reasons for their trouble to find sleep.
Twenty minutes later he shut the computer down again. He had not found anything out of the ordinary. Nothing to be too upset about.other than their usual despicable activities, that is.
For a moment he thought about calling Sydney, but discarded the idea quickly. He'd do it in the morning. His bad sleeping pattern was no reason to cause his former mentor the same.
***********************
Miss Parker paced up and down in her room. She had tried to ignore it for days but she knew exactly what she was suffering from. This was not insomnia, not something to be cured with sleeping pills. It was her inner sense.
She was provided with her mother's gift, but she could not make use of it in any way. Once, back in the Centre, Sydney had tried to help her come to terms with it. It was a marginally successful endeavour, but not something she could really work on.
Ever since that she had tried to get some sort of a grip on it. She'd tried to meditate and discern what her mother supposedly said. But both times just got her an Excedrin-worthy headache. And she hated having a headache.
She knew she was not considered a 'nice person', and usually she didn't care about her reputation. Most of the time she'd rather enjoyed being the 'Ice Queen' since it helped move things along big time. But when she was hurting like this, her usual demeanour seemed downright benign.
People who had crossed her path after her two attempts to meditate had paid a heavy price. At one point she went to a pharmacy and only wanted some pain relievers. She felt extremely eager to beat the overly chatty salesperson to a mute puddle. She couldn't help herself.
"Listen. I have a gun, you snot-nosed little punk and I have no intention of listening to your senseless babble. The medication NOW!" She had said that in an even tone, locking eyes with the young man.
That had sent more than a thrill of fear into him. He started to sweat heavily. In a hurry and with trembling hands he handed her the appropriate bottle of pills and the change.
The memory of that incident made her smile though. That had occurred the day before, and she hoped not to encounter too many people the day ahead, for their sake. I It was certainly not a good sign that she felt her inner sense now. She was probably in trouble. Though, what was the cause?
As she took the last sip of the liquor, it struck her like lightning. No, she was not in trouble. . She had been in far too many dangerous situations in her life and had never felt it before. This was not about her. But her half brother Ethan.he had felt it when her life had been in jeopardy. Maybe it was now the other way around. Maybe he was in danger. It seemed like a very logical conclusion.
If, in fact, Ethan's life was at risk, she had to do something about it! After all, he was her mother's son and he had helped her back then too. But could she find him? Where could he be? Where to start looking for him?
All those questions attacked her mind while already packing up her things. She would find a way.
The last question that ran through her mind was: do I even have a choice?
**********************
Four printouts were lying beside Lyle's computer: pictures of four women, all of them from Southeast Asia; all of them smiling. They were all mail- order brides. But after going through those potential candidates for a while, Lyle discarded the pictures and went outside. It was dawn already and he felt dead tired.
He sat down on the wooden stairs of the back porch and wondered briefly how many times his sister had sat here. This single thought led him to an idea that almost made him jump.
Miss Parker had claimed to hear a voice, her.their mother's voice. She was his twin. If she had really been telling the truth, why wouldn't he also be able to hear it? Was that possible? Well, he had learned a long time ago, that anything was possible when it came to his family.
But what did it mean? She had heard the voice when someone, Mr. Parker, had been in danger. Who could be in danger now? Not that he cared much. There was no one he cared for enough. But he wanted to get to the roots of this.
And then he remembered: his sister's inner sense made its first known appearance around the time Ethan showed up at the scene. Ethan was HIS half brother too. If this was about this other wayward experiment, then this could get interesting.
Lyle was sure that Ethan was with his other half brother, especially if he really was in some kind of trouble. Always watching out for others, the 'goody-two-shoes' of a pretender would be there. If he could find Ethan, he would also find Jarod.
"Ties that Bind"
Miss Parker stood in the kitchen of her guest house throwing out the remains of her Chinese take-out dinner. She grabbed the still half-full bottle of wine and went upstairs to her room. She'd been doing nothing big the last few days: just walking or driving aimlessly around the city, doing 'sightseeing', though not really caring for the tourist attractions she passed. She was more interested in the everyday life of Washington.
She enjoyed being a 'normal' person, doing normal stuff. But while discovering the city, she paid particular attention to all "for rent" or "for sale" signs on all the front lawns in the residential areas.-- not yet sure if she really wanted to stay here, but interested anyway. She had time. She still had three weeks booked and Mr. Ledeen had told her that she always could extend her reservation.
Taking large gulps of her wine, she undressed and got ready for bed. It was the second bottle. Miss Parker hoped the amount and the pace would help her find some sleep. The now almost drunk woman got into bed, pulled up the covers and curled up, hoping for the impact of the alcohol. And like every night, before closing her eyes, she whispered a soft 'goodnight'.
It was her way of saying 'I miss you' to her mother, her father, Thomas, the friends she'd left and to the one man she hadn't said goodbye to.
****************
Four people in four different beds, in three different states found it harder to get some decent sleep than was usual. None of those four was actually known to ever sleep through one night, but this was different from their usual nightmares. This time none of them had a nightmare. No one could really fall asleep at all. They all were rather engulfed by a feeling of uneasiness, of trouble looming just around the corner.
For two of them the intensity was almost unbearable. A hardly discernible voice seemed to constantly whisper incomprehensible words inside their heads. It was driving them crazy.
**********************
The woman now living under the name of Celia Ward sat in an easy chair with a glass of vodka in her hand. It was past three in the morning. She just couldn't sleep. It had been the fourth consecutive night and all the alcohol in the world wasn't helping. As soon as she had closed her eyes, this unidentified creepy feeling rushed over her. And then there was this voice inside her head. Any thought of sleep was wishful thinking.
***********************
The man who grew up as Bobby Bowman, and now was known as Mr. Lyle lingered on the couch that used to be his sister's. He had a laptop in front of him and browsed through the newest websites that offered men happiness with the click of a mouse. One beautiful woman after the other appeared on the screen, all of them of clear Asian descent.
He couldn't sleep and he couldn't understand why. The first few nights after moving into his sister's former house - his mother's sanctuary - he had slept better than ever before in his life. But this was the fourth night that this incredible sense of doom washed over him as soon as he had closed his eyes. And there was this voice. It was something he had never experienced before. Nothing he did helped to quiet it, helped to calm his nerves.
***********************
Jarod threw back his blanket with an exasperated sigh. 'Here we go again,' he thought. This had to stop. He hadn't had that much trouble sleeping since he got out of the Centre. Trying to not wake anyone up, he descended the stairs. In the dark living room he saw a slight gleam of light peaking our from beneath the door leading to the kitchen.
Quietly, so he wouldn't startle what was probably his father, he opened the door and realized that it was his younger brother. Joshua sat on the table with a large bowl of ice cream in front of him.
"Couldn't sleep either, eh?" the young man asked in a low voice. Just then Jarod noticed the dark circles around Joshua's eyes. He had an impossible weary look on his face, and the older brother knew it was mirrored on his own.
"Yeah and by the looks of it, you had trouble to do so for days, too!"
Jarod heated up a pot of milk, got his laptop out of the case and settled down. In less than a minute he entered the Centre mainframe. Whenever he felt like that, it was best to check up on his enemies.
While going through the data he conferred with Joshua about possible reasons for their trouble to find sleep.
Twenty minutes later he shut the computer down again. He had not found anything out of the ordinary. Nothing to be too upset about.other than their usual despicable activities, that is.
For a moment he thought about calling Sydney, but discarded the idea quickly. He'd do it in the morning. His bad sleeping pattern was no reason to cause his former mentor the same.
***********************
Miss Parker paced up and down in her room. She had tried to ignore it for days but she knew exactly what she was suffering from. This was not insomnia, not something to be cured with sleeping pills. It was her inner sense.
She was provided with her mother's gift, but she could not make use of it in any way. Once, back in the Centre, Sydney had tried to help her come to terms with it. It was a marginally successful endeavour, but not something she could really work on.
Ever since that she had tried to get some sort of a grip on it. She'd tried to meditate and discern what her mother supposedly said. But both times just got her an Excedrin-worthy headache. And she hated having a headache.
She knew she was not considered a 'nice person', and usually she didn't care about her reputation. Most of the time she'd rather enjoyed being the 'Ice Queen' since it helped move things along big time. But when she was hurting like this, her usual demeanour seemed downright benign.
People who had crossed her path after her two attempts to meditate had paid a heavy price. At one point she went to a pharmacy and only wanted some pain relievers. She felt extremely eager to beat the overly chatty salesperson to a mute puddle. She couldn't help herself.
"Listen. I have a gun, you snot-nosed little punk and I have no intention of listening to your senseless babble. The medication NOW!" She had said that in an even tone, locking eyes with the young man.
That had sent more than a thrill of fear into him. He started to sweat heavily. In a hurry and with trembling hands he handed her the appropriate bottle of pills and the change.
The memory of that incident made her smile though. That had occurred the day before, and she hoped not to encounter too many people the day ahead, for their sake. I It was certainly not a good sign that she felt her inner sense now. She was probably in trouble. Though, what was the cause?
As she took the last sip of the liquor, it struck her like lightning. No, she was not in trouble. . She had been in far too many dangerous situations in her life and had never felt it before. This was not about her. But her half brother Ethan.he had felt it when her life had been in jeopardy. Maybe it was now the other way around. Maybe he was in danger. It seemed like a very logical conclusion.
If, in fact, Ethan's life was at risk, she had to do something about it! After all, he was her mother's son and he had helped her back then too. But could she find him? Where could he be? Where to start looking for him?
All those questions attacked her mind while already packing up her things. She would find a way.
The last question that ran through her mind was: do I even have a choice?
**********************
Four printouts were lying beside Lyle's computer: pictures of four women, all of them from Southeast Asia; all of them smiling. They were all mail- order brides. But after going through those potential candidates for a while, Lyle discarded the pictures and went outside. It was dawn already and he felt dead tired.
He sat down on the wooden stairs of the back porch and wondered briefly how many times his sister had sat here. This single thought led him to an idea that almost made him jump.
Miss Parker had claimed to hear a voice, her.their mother's voice. She was his twin. If she had really been telling the truth, why wouldn't he also be able to hear it? Was that possible? Well, he had learned a long time ago, that anything was possible when it came to his family.
But what did it mean? She had heard the voice when someone, Mr. Parker, had been in danger. Who could be in danger now? Not that he cared much. There was no one he cared for enough. But he wanted to get to the roots of this.
And then he remembered: his sister's inner sense made its first known appearance around the time Ethan showed up at the scene. Ethan was HIS half brother too. If this was about this other wayward experiment, then this could get interesting.
Lyle was sure that Ethan was with his other half brother, especially if he really was in some kind of trouble. Always watching out for others, the 'goody-two-shoes' of a pretender would be there. If he could find Ethan, he would also find Jarod.
