Ghost With Cats ~ Book of Eloh #1.Draft

It was midnight mountain standard time when Annie sent the next set of chapters to Pops, Sharon, and Walt. She was just crawling into bed when her skype chimed. It was Pops. He had become her new favorite grandfather figure, she tended to collect that type since her parents died. She wondered why he was calling so late. He had obviously just received her chapters but he couldn’t have proofed them that quickly. In all the chapters, he had only had her change one thing, the color of an important building.

“Hey, Pops,” Annie smiled.

He looked concerned, “Annie, I can’t say how I know this, but I think you are in danger. Some people are looking for you. Did you used to do anything with something called the Pandora Project?”

Her eyes opened wide, her mouth was so dry she was surprised she could answer. “You shouldn’t know about that, Pops. It was my late parents’ research. It wasn’t safe. It was just too dangerous, it hurt people, thousands of people, like something out of one of your books. As of two years ago, Pandora doesn’t exist anymore. It almost wiped out India and then Japan.”

He looked confused for a moment then his eyes flash with realization. “Holy gawd, ” he murmured, she watched him take a drink of something amber over ice, “Annie, it does exist again, and they are looking for you.”

Annie felt like she couldn’t breathe, as she covered her face with trembling hands. After several slow breaths, she looked up, “I’m sorry, sir, I may not be able to finish your book. It was the best ghost read I ever did.”

“You write it like you are reading it out of my mind, my dear. Do you have a safe place to go? I have friends who could hide you,” he offered kindly. He looked truly concerned.

She couldn’t put him at risk, or anyone, not for Pandora, too many thousands had died already. Died for greed and no one knew the truth, the governments always played it off to natural disasters. She had to get away; she had to hide before they came for her. She would not finish her mother's work for those who wanted to weaponize it.

Annie smiled wanly, trying so hard to be brave. “I do. Just let Sharon know something came up, and ask her to feed my cat, Pandie,” Annie asked. “I’ll try to get the last chapters to you before Christmas, sir. I know Walt and Bill want to make a limited New Years release. I wanted it too, it has been such an honor to write for you.”

“Don’t worry about the book. You need to be safe,” he replied in his concerned grandfatherly way. “Like I said it is just something I heard, through a friend of a friend. It might not be anything bad, and it will always be Pops to you, Annie. You’re the granddaughter I never had.”

She smiled again as tears threatened. Some people you are just instantly connected to, and some people, ‘a thousand years spent together wouldn’t build an inch of trust’ as her late Grandpa Dove would say.

“Pops, if it’s Pandora, it’s bad. Take care of yourself. If I get back to bear country, I’ll send you a postcard.” Annie signed off before he can say anything else.

Annie’s mind was reeling as her panic threatened. It won’t happen again, she told herself over and over, this time I’ll be ready. But her paranoia and PTSD screamed at her, you’re not safe, run!

She fingered the carved stone pendant around her neck as she looked around the hotel room with its black, white and green décor, and giant cat print over her bed. It looked like a birthday card she received once, and it gave her an idea. She flashed an email to five people. It was a birthday invite to her cat Pandie’s 20th birthday party at her vacation condo in Galveston. Only a half-dozen people in the world know that Pandie was her mom’s nickname for Project Pandora. Annie prayed to God they are still alive, that they realized the warning she was sending, and fled to safety too.

Don’t panic, Annie!

She pinched her arm, her tracking chip was still there. The general could find her if they took her again. For several moments, images of horror flashed through her mind. Chained, being beaten, bucket after bucket of ice water thrown on her. Her hatred of being cold used by him to try to break her after he had taken everything. She shook, pressing her fists into her temples, she survived that and all seven of them were dead, she reminded herself. She saved herself then, she can save herself now. She just needed to prepare if they came for her before she could get away.

Follow the 4 rules for surviving. She reminded herself.

Quickly, she pulled a zip copy of her book project and put it on the inside of a left ankle brace, checked her lock tools and put it on, then she put another brace on her right ankle; her knife, cash, alias credit cards and IDs. The places she would go had copies of her real ones. She checked the charge of a small burner cell and tucked it in her left ankle brace, then flexed her feet. Over the braces she put two pair of her fluffy socks. Quickly, she layers her under-armor under her cat print PJ’s in case she gets flushed. She was in Denver, in December. She can’t go to the family home on Lake Fork, or the Galveston condo, too obvious. She had hundreds of miles south to travel without being followed or detected. Her great-grandfather’s cabin was in Cuchara. If she driven from the cabin, it was two thousand miles to the south Texas coast or three and a half thousand miles north to Alaska, a trek she really didn’t want to make in the winter. Three places to go, lay low and track Pandora without being found. All have enough resources that she could hide for several years easily.

Rule for daily life #3 Pretend to be the person ‘they’ expect until you can be invisible again.

Annie called room service and asked for a 9 AM pancake breakfast to be delivered and left in her room if she was at the pool. She asked about the tour bus to the local Black Hawk casino and if she could get a seat. Maybe she could slip away from a tour group and disappear. Tomorrow, she planned to vanish.

Annie prayed she was just being paranoid. She was in an extended stay hotel room on the farthest edge of Denver rented by her publisher. She should be invisible, she had not used her own credit cards or drawn cash because she never left her suite except to go to the pool, all her food was brought to her. Her IP address routed through a secure server, no one could track it. But her fear was screaming at her, she was not secure! She was hundreds of miles from the safety of her fortress like home in the northeast Texas with its safe rooms and separated, hidden fallout shelter. She yanked open her dresser, staring at her jeans and sweaters, then slammed it shut, refusing to change out of her PJs before dawn. She will not let her paranoia dictate her actions. She flopped down in a chair to stop pacing, listing her situation again, running through her rules and plans.

She was wearing fluffy Happy Kitten PJ’s and fluffy socks to hide her thermal layers, and ankle braces turned tool kits because she was afraid she might have to flee into the snowy night. Her Smith and Wesson M&P40 was sitting just under a kitten and butterfly print sweatshirt in her dresser a few feet away. She argued with her paranoia that she was as safe as she could make herself. She shouldn’t be afraid because of something that happened a seven years ago next week. Sitting in the chair, she looked out at the falling snow and wrapped her robe around her tighter, reminding herself that the doctor said she would stop having nightmares someday. She would stop being paranoid. She would start to feel warm again.

Just watch the snow fall, Annie... just watch the flakes swirling in fractal dances of air currents and gravity.

A few hours later, she startled awake, scared and shivering. The green eyes of the cat print stared back at her.

Feel warm again, my fluffy assorted socks, she thought.

She reached up and fingers the carved stone with the figure of a cat. Her mom had bought it for her when they visited Egypt, she had been fourteen. She missed her mom, Christmas was their favorite time of year. She missed her daddy, and him dutifully driving them from tree lot to tree lot to find the perfect Christmas Tree. Most of all she missed the feeling of hope and happiness this time of year always held before their deaths. It was her fault they died, she made a mistake. Outside the snow had stopped.

Her laptop chimed when she opened it. She had mail.

~One of her emails came back addressee unknown, no such email address existed.

~Another came back with a polite note in Japanese explaining that the recipient was in a car accident and please make donations to Hirohito shrine and feline rescue.

~The third simply said, “Love to, see you and Pandie soon,” in French.

~One had a long response telling her how much she ‘Will be happy to come to Pandie’s birthday and that she was so surprised to hear Pandie was still alive. Wasn’t 20 very old for a cat? Did she need to bring a present for the party?’ in wordy British English.

~The last email was in Gaelic, dùdaich an òran beò. (The siren’s song lives.)

Only one of her parents’ former research colleagues was alive or able to answer freely, and it all said one thing to Annie. She needed to start running now. She went in the bathroom and threw up. Annie had just finished washing her face when the fire alarms went off in the hall. She bolted into the bedroom as her door burst open. She was tasered. She never made it to the dresser.

Annie woke up in a helicopter her wrist were ziptied in front of her, but not tightly. She was not gagged. She could hear two men and the pilot talking. They were getting clearance to land. She had to pretend to be unconscious. She had not been searched. She still had her ankle braces with her lock pick kit, her zip-drive, lock-blade knife, cash, card, and phone. All she need was opportunity and shoes, and she would be out of there.

One of the men groped her before he picked her up, she forced herself to be lifeless and limp, even though every instinct, every fear screamed at her to fight, to struggle. Her life depended on her willpower overcoming her terror at this time. He put her over his shoulder like a bag of feed and he squeezes her butt as he walks away from the still running helicopter. Annie peaked through her lashes as the helicopter had moved toward a building that looked like a hanger. The man kept rubbing her butt as she was carried into a two story building. There was no security at the door. That was a very bad thing for Annie, no security meant they felt their location was secure enough not to need it.

“Damn, kitten girl’s got a firm body under these fluffy jamies,” he said, running his hands over her body. “And at least, a real double C or D.” She was glad, her face was at his back as he groped her. She bit her lip so hard she was afraid it would bleed.

“Jake! Quit handling her, and put her in a room,” another snapped at him, “This ain’t Japan and I ain’t gonna stop Bents from killing you this time.”

“Fine! Can I put her in with one of the freaks?” Jake growled.

“I don’t care, just dump her and lock the door till they decided what to do with her,” the other responded. The man called Jake dumped her on a couch, then he ran his hand over her again.

“Sure hope I get to spend some time with you before they kill you, pretty thing,” Jake whispered to her.

‘Play dead... play dead... play dead,’ she chanted over and over in her mind against the storm of her fears.

“You should not touch your females without their permission,” a strangely accented voice admonished Jake.

“Oh, so the freak speaks,” Jake snarled, “Well, maybe I’ll let you watch. Show you how real men handle fe-males.” Jake began punching the tall prisoner and continued mocking him.

While he was distracted, Annie took the opportunity to free herself, and closes the door silently before stalking toward Jake as he continued to abuse the man chained to the wall.

Tal grunted. The one called Jake hit very hard, and enjoyed inflicting pain, but he was not touching the small, bound female anymore. Tal didn’t understand these humans and how they treated each other. Suddenly, Jake made a strange sound and dropped to his knees.

“Sorry, Jake... but I will not allow y’all to rape me,” the female hissed as the life faded from his eyes.

The small female was trembling as she pulled a very deadly looking knife from the back of Jake’s head, wiped it on a cloth, and folded it in half. Jake collapsed onto the floor in a heap. She was blinking rapidly, and making a strange, almost choking motion with her throat, swallowing several times, as she bent and freed Tal’s feet. The other entered before she released his hands.

“What the!” Exclaimed the second man who charged her. She twisted out of her robe as the man grabbed it. She kicked at him, winding him, but he still managed to strike her, knocking her over a chair.

Tal knew this one was called Dobbins and he was worse than Jake. He would not hesitate to abuse and kill the small, brave female. Tal kicked him rendering him unconscious. The female expertly broke Dobbin’s neck, and dropped Dobbins back on the floor. She looked him oddly as if surprised that he just helped her kill the second man who had brought her here. But he realized there was something else. She knew what he was.

“Hmm, didn’ expect that,” she murmured, staring at his eyes.

Annie stared at the off-worlder. He should not be here, as in not be in this place or even on this planet. His torso was covered in old and new bruises. It was obvious they have been torturing him. She had to get him out of here. She owed his people that much.

“Thank you, I’m Annie,” she said almost too quietly to be heard, then she straightened the chair next to him, stepped up, and began working to free his wrist with small metal tools, “Your people aren’t supposed to be on our planet. Why are you here?”

“I did not know that. I was looking for a very dangerous form of energy. One your people should not be experimenting with. I am Admant Vanth Tal.” He answered. As she freed his arms, he almost collapsed. She barely managed to catch him, putting him in the chair she was standing on.

“How long since you have eaten or rested, Admant Vanth Tal?” she asked concerned.

“Four, perhaps more, of your days I believe.” He wondered how a human would know of his people. They had never been to this world.

“Stay here, put on his clothes.” She pointed to Dobbins “It’ll be easier to get ya away if y’all’re dressed like one of them. I’ll help ya, I promise.”

“They have two more of my people.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find them, just change clothes.” Annie peeked out the door, then slipped down the hall.

Her statement about looking like the enemy made sense. He stripped Dobbins and put his uniform on. The Admant rolled Jake over, the small woman had known exactly how to kill him, quickly and silently with very little blood. He wondered about her statement to the dead man. He did not understand one of the words, it did not translate, her accent perhaps. The translator implant offered ‘reaped as in to harvest’ and ‘rapped as in to tap’, but neither word made sense in the context she had said it. All he could do was wait. Suddenly, the door pushed open, and his Cypher Talen Vorn entered, half-carrying his Sword Pet Bries, who had been badly beaten and was barely conscious.

“Master, the human female said you were in here and she would come soon,” Vorn said.

“I am glad she freed you,” The Admant responded.

The Cypher nodded, “She seems to know at least a little bit about our people. She gave me these from a machine, apologized for the flavor, but said we should consume them.”

They were some form of compressed food bar, high in protein and amino acids. There were also bottles of something called Poweraide. It all tasted awful, like war rations, but it was very nutritional. They ate all she had given them, to recover their strength and heal more quickly.

Annie slipped in and threw two more uniform on the table, and a flat box. She was wearing odd clothing compared to what they were to wear. Hers was made out of a strange synthetic fur with an abstract animal face on it. She sat on the table typing rapidly on the flat box-shaped thing.

“Get them dressed,” she mumbled to Tal.

Tal made a gesture and Vorn took the other two uniforms. He and the big bald one dressed in the merc uniforms. Annie politely kept her head down, working. She glanced up at them and nodded in approval. The three of them were now dressed as most of the guards in the compound dressed, as long as they don’t look anyone in the face, they should be able to escape.

They are an odd bunch, Annie thought.

The bald one was built like a linebacker, but has flattened, broad features that remind her of someone with Downs. The Admant and the other one were tall, and muscular, dark-haired, with strong aquiline features and strong jaws. They also had very different hair styles. The Admant’s was long almost one length. The other’s reminded her of a Japanese priest from a movie she saw once. Shaved sides with a long herringbone braid down the back.The priest stood a respectful distance behind her, but watched her typing curiously. The big one was eating, and sat quietly by the door, watching outward, careful not to look in her direction, barely a glance. Almost like they are afraid to speak to her.

In the uniforms, they looked human enough, but it was their eyes that caught her attention again. Their eyes were how she knew what they were. Their irises were twice as large as human ones almost completely obscuring the white, and so dark they were nearly black. She had only met one other with eyes like that, Truh was an Eloh. She had met him only a day after that week, and for only an hour.

“How is it you know anything about us? ” Admant Vanth Tal asked, his accent was strange, almost like a computer speaking. Nothing like Truh’s smoothly flowing dialect.

“Because several years ago, I meet one of your people, a Regent. I owe him a favor. Greedy men tried to create a bomb using the energy you are looking for and I was involuntarily volunteered to stop them. And now, I am going to have to stop Pandora from blowing up my planet again.” She answered tiredly. She sounded like it was a task she did not want to be doing once more.

The information was unexpected and worrisome, Tal glanced at Vorn, both wore the same startled expression. Their people had been on this untreatied, unknown world before and the humans had tried to use the Song of Destruction before. But more surprising, she called it by the ancient name of the angel of misfortune, Pahndorah.

Thank you, Mama Magie