West (History Interrupted Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: West (History Interrupted Book 1)
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 A crack of lightning startled me. My eyes went to the window. I hadn’t been outside all day and was surprised to see the sky still covered with dark clouds after the three days of rain. Lightning rippled through them in the distance, followed by a low grumble of thunder.

Not another storm!
A gust of wind tossed the drapes into the air. I rose and crossed to the window, closing it. I watched the sky for a moment, eyes falling to the barn, and I wasn’t able to stop the thoughts that formed.

Three phones. Three other women from my time had been in this room. Three voices in the well.

What was going on? I didn’t want the truth to be what I was inching towards, that someone in this house had a hand in getting rid of my predecessors.

I returned to the armoire and took a picture of the three phones then carefully replaced them beneath the false bottom. Satisfied it look the same way it had when I found it, I closed the drawer and sat back on my knees.

“Who put you all here?” The questions swirling through my mind took a moment to crystalize. My heart was beating fast.

What danger lurked in the house or nearby town?

I can’t let this happen again,
Carter had said.

Fear blazed to life within me. Of all the mysteries, this was the one that scared me the most. I could see Philip being in on this but no one else.

I sent Carter the picture I had just taken and a text.

I think you’re keeping something important from me. If I’m in danger, I need to know, Carter.

Why not at least warn me?

Thunder drew my gaze towards the barn. I went to the window once more and gazed out.

The whispering I had heard around the phones was too faint, but that around the well was louder. If I couldn’t read one, I should be able to read the other. Gripping and releasing my cell phone, I couldn’t help thinking I needed to know what – or who – was in the well. I dared not risk waiting until the second storm was over.

The stable hands finished rounding up the horses and secured the barn before trotting towards the servants’ wing of the house.

I tucked my phone in a pocket and moved away from the window. Going to my door, I opened it, expecting to find Nell loitering the way she always seemed to be. No one was in the hallway, though I heard the movement of someone in one of the rooms whose door was cracked open.

I crept towards the stairs, cringing when the floorboards creaked beneath my light step. I hurried down the grand staircase, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw me.

The house was brightly lit and quiet. Voices of the visitors from town came from the parlor, and I assumed Nell was with John. The shutters had been drawn on the windows on the main floor, and I hurried to the front door, pulling it open. Stepping out, I closed the door quickly and breathed a sigh of relief that I had made it this far. The wind was strong, though it contained no telltale droplets of moisture that would precede another hard rain.

I took it as a good sign and raced from the house to the barn, pressing myself to the side not visible from the house. I tucked errant hairs caught up in the wind behind my ears. The charged wind was exhilarating, warm and cool swirling around me in a dangerous dance.

Lightning like that from the night I arrived made me look upward, and an instinct wriggled. If I had arrived in a lightning storm, was there some way for me to leave during one, too? Was Carter’s weird magic or technology tied to the charge of electricity from lightning?

Why am I thinking about it now?
It wasn’t the day I was supposed to change things, and yet, with John almost gone and the mystery of the three other girls twisting my insides, I couldn’t help wishing I could hop in a car and just go home if things got too bad here.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I hurried to the back of the barn, where the loose hay had been covered with heavy canvas to keep it from blowing away. Leaning against the back of the barn, I pulled out the cell to read Carter’s message.

You’re the fifth girl we’ve sent back to this time. Four of you were supposed to take on the role of John’s daughter. The other three identified Taylor and disappeared soon after he realized who they were.
It was the first straight answer he’d given me about the others.

“Five girls?” I gasped. There was too much behind his simple explanation for me to know where to start asking questions.

I had found three cell phones. Did that mean another woman was still here somewhere? Or had she been sent from a time with no cell phones?

“Four girls meant to take the place of John’s daughter,” I repeated, confusion turning to anger.

Do you mean John knows I’m not his daughter?

I pressed send, panic mixing with my anger. I shoved the phone in my pocket, gaze going to the well. Unable to suppress the need to know what happened, I crossed to it and gripped a wood board, yanking at it. A splinter pierced one finger, but the board gave.

The whispering was back. Tossed around by the wind but eerily present, trying to tell me a story I wasn’t able to understand.

I leaned over and peered into the well. It was too dark to see anything. I withdrew my cell again and flipped the camera to flash then lowered my arms as far as I could into the well.

I snapped a few pictures. The brilliant flash was almost as bright as the lightning and I winced, hoping not to draw attention from the house.

A crack of thunder almost made me drop my phone. I yanked it back and hastily retreated to the barn wall to get out of the wind.

Carter had responded.

It’s possible. He’s in the late stages of senility, so he may not understand that. But I don’t know what happened to the other girls; I just knew we had to risk sending you back to save lives. Remember - if you don’t succeed, a million people die.

His response managed to calm and confound me. Whatever his reasoning, he was at least being more honest this time, though why he wasn’t straight up with me before, I didn’t know. I decided to ask a question I should have when this adventure started.

How do I get out of here?
I texted next.
Is it through the storm, like I came here?

I sent the message and then flipped to my photo reel. It contained only the pictures I had taken since arriving. None of those I had of my life were present, and for a moment, I felt a deep sense of loss.

What if I was stuck in the past without anything to remind me of my world?

I blinked away the thoughts. I wasn’t about to give up on Carter, my purpose or my belief that there were good people like John and Nell in the world. I forced myself to focus on the pics I had just snapped.

Focusing on them, I stifled a cry. The camera had picked up what I wasn’t able to see – but which I could hear through the whispers.

I had found three of the four women Carter sent back.

 

 

C
HAPTER
T
EN

 

Three heads were at the bottom of the well. One bony skull stared up at me, its long blond hair all that identified it as a woman. Another head with long, blonde hair was face down with its skeletal remains covered by a faded blue gown while the third head was off to one side, alone, with no body or clothing or anything identifying about it except for her hair.

Blonde hair. Like mine. Three girls sent back to pretend to be the daughter of a kind but senile man named John. It made sense that they’d all look similar, which meant every girl who came before me ended up murdered at the bottom of the well.

But why and by whom?

“Sheriff?” I whispered hoarsely. He knew or suspected me of being just like the other three. He’d flat out admitted that none of the other girls made it out of the town alive, and he’d been prowling around the well earlier that day.

Had he somehow figured out they were in the past to stop him from the massacre that was coming?

If so, who had put the phones in the armoire? Why did he offer to help me and rescue me the way he had?

I stared at the images, nauseated. The dry well had been filled with dirt to a point, but the fall was still far enough to kill someone if they went in headfirst.

Or were thrown in after being killed elsewhere.

My shock began to wear off, and I sent the image to Carter with a note.
Not totally sure, but I think these are the other three women you sent.

He had already texted a response to me about leaving.


You leave when you succeed in changing history. The plains have a lot of lightening storms this time of year with enough power to send you back
,” I read aloud. “What if someone figures me out and throws me into a well, Carter?” Once again, I was stuck on the idea that there was more than bad communication here, that the darkness I sensed came from my intuition warning me not to trust Carter fully.

My hands shook. There were tears on my cheeks and the image of the girls in the well remained on my screen. I could hardly believe it was real, that I lived a hundred feet away from a well filled with the remains of the women who might’ve been there for the same reason I was. At least I figured out my danger, though I had no idea which direction it’d come from. Philip was first on my list, followed by the sheriff.

Fighting Badger … but he collected bodies in his cave. He didn’t throw them in wells.

A message popped up on my screen.

My god. You need to work fast. We sent you all back to John, because he is in the right location, senile and would accept you without question. I don’t know how someone figured out what we were doing. If you can get DNA, we’ll confirm if those three are your predecessors. Any idea where the fourth is? She wasn’t like you all.

“Really, Carter? DNA?” I replied.

How did he not think that sending back four girls to the same old man wouldn’t raise suspicion? That cousin Philip and nanny Nell weren’t going to notice when someone unrelated to the family like the sheriff had figured it out?

Um, I’m not crawling down there for DNA samples.
I replied.
There’s a lightening storm tonight.
If I can talk Running Bear out of starting a war, can you bring me home tonight?

I pushed myself away from the wall. I trotted around the side of the barn, no longer caring how nice John was or how bad the storm was going to get. The Native Americans had said their lands were towards the west, along with the location where I had arrived. I was going to tell their chief about the rampage and then go back to the moldavite and wait for Carter to get me.

Entering the warm barn, I saddled the horse I had borrowed a few days ago and led him out of the barn, mounting after I closed the door. The gown in all its layers was uncomfortable and bulky but thick enough to protect me from the wind.

I oriented myself then urged the horse to go west, towards the road that ran towards town, between John’s lands and that of the natives. It was the same direction as Fighting Badger’s cave. Though I didn’t recall anything in his mind about his village being close, the frequency of his brothers’ visits made me think that this general direction was a smart place to start.

I can’t do this anymore.
It took effort to suppress my growing panic.

The charged wind was growing stiffer, the rumbling thunder closer. I glanced up nervously. If my choice was to brave a storm and be home in my time by morning or stay inside where it was safe until someone threw me in a well, I would brave the storm without question.

But John …
I ached knowing he was dying. Confusion and fear sent my thoughts spiraling down scary paths, and I pushed them away. John was one man. I cared for him, but I needed to fix things. I wasn’t going to be the fourth body in the bottom of a well!

I reached the road to town and slowed the horse to a trot, once again orienting myself. It was next to impossible to tell cardinal directions during a storm, but I recalled my trip to Fighting Badger’s and kept an eye out for the tree.

I rode along until I found what I sought: the tree followed soon by the red flag atop a hill. It was slanted at an angle, pushed over by the wind.

Veering off the road into the grasslands, I gave the horse its head so it was able to find the best path. Lightning arced across the sky nearby, and I jumped in place, once again suspecting I was either screwed or
screwed
if I didn’t finish the mission Carter sent me back to complete.

The horse’s pace slowed. I tugged my phone out of my pocket to check for messages.

You can’t fix history in one night.
 

“But we can in a matter of days?” I asked aloud, perplexed. “No more secrets, Carter. Four other girls!” I wasn’t able to fathom what he was thinking sending me back after the other girls disappeared. Did he even know what happened before I showed him the picture from the well? And why didn’t he come back, if people kept disappearing?

Unless they can only send us one way.
The errant thought made me feel sick to my stomach. It was a better explanation for why Carter himself hadn’t come back to change history or why he didn’t know what happened to the girls.

No. I can’t believe that about him.
Though I really, really wished I’d had an empathic memory chip when we first met. Had the other girls had this skill? If so, how did they not figure out their danger until it was too late?

Carter had called some of what they did to me experimental. I shivered, horror sinking into me as I realized the enormity of what I’d learned this night.

I couldn’t trust Carter. Or the people around me, aside from John and Nell. Whoever had killed the other girls was probably coming after me next, and I had no idea who that was. I had managed to contain the unease about being sent back in time, gloss over what Carter had done because he was my only link to the future. But maybe, he knew about the others, and maybe he lied to me because he was waiting for the same thing to happen to me.

BOOK: West (History Interrupted Book 1)
9.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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