Dream Wakers: The Veiled Prophecy (Book One)

Chapter 3

 Emmy woke, rubbing the smell of lavender from her nose, wondering if she'd been dreaming of the same woman again. Days and nights ran together in fits of incoherent dreams. Without Henry to guide her, and Ethan to suppress her, all that made her strange seemed to be making up for lost time. She sighed, pushing the mop of sun bleached, chestnut hair out of her eyes. Pale yellow walls mirrored the blankness in Emmy's face as she stretched, and she thought of nothing. Today she needed coffee. She grabbed cash from between the pages of her book.

Small dust clouds kicked up around her ankles, and clung to her exposed skin as she walked through the parking lot and into the lobby. A woman with mousy hair sat behind the main desk, engrossed in an article on her computer. Emmy stared at her, annoyed that the woman had nothing better to do than avoid her job. She should be grateful to be employed, and to have a place to live without the fear of being hunted.

"Do you need something?"

The woman looked at her, inconvenience disfiguring her face. The heating pad hissed and complained as black coffee bubbled and fell over the edge of the pot behind her. Emmy grimaced at its prospect before turning on her heel and heading out.

"Well, I guess I could see what this place is all about," she said to herself, shrugging. "I don't even know what state I'm in."

The bitter education that her hometown was bigger than most in the Midwest had disappointed her more deeply than she wanted to admit. The morning light warned her of the afternoon heat as she walked. A handful of trucks rumbled by, and she glanced sheepishly to the side as they passed, nervous it'd be a face she recognized. Emmy hoped the town was as remote as it felt. As long as she could stay anonymous, there was little chance she could be found. She had become very capable of knowing how to slip in and out of places without talking to anyone.

She second guessed her decision to penetrate through the outskirts she'd been living in. It made it impossible to ignore what she'd been running from. Her throat closed tightly and Emmy swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. A couple of women came out of the post office. They know what's happened. They recognize you. They'll tell Ethan. Her heart pounded, and she stumbled frantically to find cover. The faint scent of espresso trickled in through her flaring nostrils and she pushed the nearest door to her, nearly falling into an empty diner. Everything went silent and time swirled once around her neck before falling still. She froze, not daring to move should Ethan come from behind the counter.

"Can I help you?"

A middle aged woman stared at her. Emmy eyes were blank and glossy. Memories and reality desperately tried to separate themselves as she stood lost in between. She tried to push Ethan's image away. Seconds felt like hours. She blinked once and lowered her gaze to her feet.

"Coffee?" she spat quietly, touching her fingers to her lips. She wondered exactly when she had last spoken to someone.

"Yes, there would be coffee here."

Emmy lifted her right foot, turning it, noticing where the glue had lifted off the canvas of her shoe. God, Emmy! Order a coffee and just get out! What the hell are you doing?

"Do you speak English?" the woman insisted before turning to make more coffee. "I swear I don't get paid enough to deal with this."

Emmy slowly raised her eyes to watch, wishing the scalding water would seep out from the machine and flow over the counter to drown her. She looked to the barstools, begging her feet to take her to one. The sun warmed her back through the window behind her. Somewhere outside, trucks moved down the main road, humming faintly in Emmy's ears.

The woman whipped around, snapping her towel as she placed her fists on her hips.

"Really honey, you gotta say somethin' or get out. I just can't have you sitting there, staring at..."