Grim Echoes

Chapter 1 - Maeve

Maeve stood at the light and waited for it to change. When she lifted her gaze, she froze. Her scalp tingled and her chest tightened, made it hard to breathe. The familiar sensation rolled over her body as the heat seeped from her skin, her stomach clenched, and everything except the man in front of her blurred. She stumbled and reached for the streetlight pole to stay upright. Colors whipped around her and made her dizzy. Not now, please, not now, she begged god or anyone willing to hear the silent pleas.

The only clear point in her vision was the massive figure. Around six feet with sun kissed skin, wide shoulders and muscled arms stood out against his frame. He had short, wild, honey-brown hair. His penetrating deep set gunmetal eyes with heavy lids gave him an alluring expression despite the violence reflected in them. That gaze instilled fear, and promised a vicious end. Maeve wasn't interested in experiencing the emotional impressions or memories of the man's life. They'd be out of order, distorted and messy, like they always were. Most of the time, all the memories were awful and traumatic in nature. She got enough of that working at the behavioral center.

All at once everything, including the man, disappeared in a flash of white. No longer at the street corner; Maeve was lost in the stranger's soul, now trapped in his memories.

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She cried out as her father held her hand down; the burning licked her fingertips until the skin blistered. Finally, he let her hand go. His cruel grey eyes sparkled.

"That should hold for a while. Stop crying like a baby. I do it all the time," her father said with a sneer.

"You're not dropping out Andy. I don't give a shit if you think you know everything or not. Wyatt's gone, so I decide. You finish high-school," she stared down her younger cousin and used her nasty glare so he'd stop. It'd been a lot harder than she thought, taking care of him after her father died.

The scent of fresh leaves surrounded her as Mom held her close. She shut her eyes, always safe with Mom.

 "So proud of you. It was kind of you to help with your brother. It's a big job to take care of a little one." her mom kissed her cheek.

The front door slammed shut. She clutched mom.

"I'll calm your father down, check your brother. The noise might've woken him." her long, dark hair fanned out. It was so pretty.

She hauled Ander up, positive her father had broken something. She half carried, half pulled Ander to their room and eased him on the bed. Poor kid tried to ignore the pain but tears made his eyes wet. Fucking Wyatt. He was such a piece of shit. She stalked to her father, wanted vengeance for Andy, even if it caused broken bones of her own. Without a word, she burst into the living room and punched Wyatt in the face.

She rubbed the back of her head. Fuck. What was she gonna do now? Paced the small room, naked. Her heart hammered in her chest. Hadn't meant to hurt her. She wiped her mouth, disgusted by the sight of blood on the back of her hand. She stopped and looked at her cousin with a raised eyebrow.

"I am cleaning up your mess. Leave." Ander's mismatched eyes looked haunted.

She stared at the ground. Got both her and Ander hurt in the drill. Her father was pissed, too.

"Don't be sorry, be better," Wyatt snapped, and left in his truck.

Shit. Now they had to walk miles to get back and in pain, too. They'd done better with the drills, but she'd got too cocky. Damn it. She glanced at Andy. He waited for her to tell him what to do, wasn't mad, even as his arm bled.

Her eyes cracked open; her mouth was caked in something. So thirsty. It was scorching, even naked. She was naked? Sat and shook her head. Hated this fucking country. Never had been a fan of desert terrain and liked it even less now. Where was her uniform? Shit. There was... something all over her and scattered on the sand. Puke rose in her throat. Couldn't tell if it'd been a shredded human or creature. Full force, the stench of innards hit her. Couldn't hold back anymore. She turned her head and vomited.

An older woman wrapped her arms around her. She hugged no one, but she'd embraced her.

"It's going to be ok. I'll watch over you," the woman said.

Probably should've been more upset, but it'd be better now that he was dead.

"Why don't you boys stay here a while before you go back out on mission. We can make chili," the woman said in her husky voice.

She nodded. She liked making chili with her aunt, always made things better. 

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Maeve fell forward, clutched the pole, and almost fell to the concrete below as her vision returned. She fought back the vomit, peering around with blurry eyes. The man stared back, his eyes narrowed. He'd felt it, too. She took a shallow breath. It hadn't happened for months and never that distance away from her. Maeve's body trembled. Traffic and people zipped around them. None the wiser anything out of sorts had occurred. A large box truck crossed in front of her and blocked the view of him. When she saw the corner again, he was gone.