The Secret of Zormna Clendar, Julie Steimle [e novels to read online .TXT] 📗
- Author: Julie Steimle
Book online «The Secret of Zormna Clendar, Julie Steimle [e novels to read online .TXT] 📗». Author Julie Steimle
Jennifer fidgeted, watching Zormna sleep. Kevin’s brow creased as his mind mulled over what he had just seen. Finally, Jennifer tugged on his hand, urging him to the door. What was the point in lingering? Her billion questions would have to be answered later. They crept out of the room, closing the door with the catch clicking lightly behind them.
“I wonder what happened,” Kevin murmured. He glanced at the closed door. “She’s completely wiped out.”
Jennifer shrugged, walking back towards the stairs. Yet, she hesitated. Was it really safe to leave Zormna alone? Truly? Despite how she wished to think better of her parents, Jennifer was not so sure they would not do something…scary.
Kevin placed his hand in hers, intermingling their fingers. He tried a smile to comfort her, but he cringed when he looked down to where he had witnessed a frightening argument as if the very space was tainted.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Nodding, Jennifer led the way back down.
As they went down to the main floor, Todd walked up. His eyes set on Kevin, first with a disparaging look. “If Dad finds you two alone up here, he’ll kill you.”
Jennifer shot her brother a dirty look. “Shut up, Todd. It was nothing like that. Kevin was just helping me get Zormna up the stairs.”
“She’s here?” Todd looked over their heads to Zormna’s door, pushing to get past. “When did she get back?”
Kevin put his arm out to stop Todd. “Don’t go in. Zormna is asleep, and she needs her rest. She was completely wasted when we found her.”
Todd’s eyes widened. “Wasted? What are you talking about?”
“I mean,” Kevin shrugged deep between his shoulders, “It looks like…I don’t know. We found her in the alley. There was a liquor bottle near her, and she looked thrashed.”
“But…” Todd looked to Jennifer for the truth. “What about the FBI theory? That they took her?”
Jennifer peeked downstairs to see if her parents were listening in. She did not see them, but that did not mean they weren’t there. She whispered, “I still think they took her. Zormna claims that she would never drink. Besides, she has, like, bandages and bruises. We’re gonna let her rest until she can tell us what really happened.”
Todd nodded absently. Jennifer could tell that he was imagining the awful events in nasty, cinematic detail. “Good idea.”
“But I think we should guard her door from Mom and Dad,” Jennifer added with a knowing look.
Todd met her gaze. He nodded. “Agreed.”
And Kevin nodded, continuing on downstairs.
Jennifer followed him.
At the front door, Jennifer and Kevin whispered their good-byes. They kissed. Then she dejectedly watched him walk out onto the road.
With a shiver, Jennifer closed the door and leaned on it.
Zormna was alive. All of Jennifer’s anxiety seeped out of her body, dripping down from her insides as she rested the back of her head against the front door. Zormna was safe.
“Jennifer?”
Focusing across the room to doorway to the living room, Jennifer found her parents standing a little less threatening. They looked like they had been talking and were now ready for a confessional.
“We need to talk,” her mother said.
“Again?” Jennifer gazed dryly at them.
Her mother sighed, sharing a look with her father. “No…. We’ve discussed it, and we have come a decision.”
Here it comes, Jennifer thought. Another lie.
“She will eventually confide in you, we believe,” her mother said.
Jennifer perked up at that. That would be good news.
“That being the case, we would like to get in our word before she corrupts you with her view.” Her mother then gestured to the study, looking once to her father. He seemed resigned, but not happy with this choice. “As you understand, privacy is important for discretion.”
Nodding, Jennifer decided to play along. It was high time she got the truth from someone.
“So, what was it that you wanted to tell me?” Jennifer folded her arms once they were in the office.
Her mother shared a look with her father before answering. They sighed with resignation. “Please sit down. This may take a while”
Jennifer rolled her eyes, yet she obeyed. She sat in the office chair. There was only one.
“We need to explain who Zormna Clendar…Tarrn is. And why she is dangerous,” her mother said.
This was it. Jennifer straightened up and listened.
“But first,” her father said, “We need to explain why we left Home.”
Home…as in with a big H. Yes, Jennifer wondered about that one.
Her father remained apologetic yet matter-of-fact as he explained, “We cannot name Home for you without breaking the law. But I am sure you have ideas about…where…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Home, like here, is not perfect. It has its good and bad. But, our civilization has thrived for, well, several millennia of interrupted peace.”
“There was a prophecy declared to our people ages ago—” her mother explained.
“Eons ago,” her father interjected.
Nodding, her mother continued, “Anyway, a very long time ago—that said that the last of Tarrn family would bring about the end of our world.”
Jennifer didn’t mean to, but she drew in a breath.
“We left before the prophesied date,” her mother explained, “to avoid the cataclysm.”
“It should have happened about fifteen years ago, actually,” her father said.
“We never expected to actually see a sign of it,” her mother continued. “So we never thought that Zormna would be a—” She looked to her husband. “To be honest, we thought it was impossible. Yet…thinking about it now, she bears all the signs.”
Jennifer stared. The signs. Of what?
Her mother explained. “A Tarrn is identified by the mark on their right shoulders. But uh…they are also very proud.”
“We had taken Zormna’s pride to be that of accomplishment,” her father explained. “But Tarrns believe they are a cut above Society.”
“They are also anxious, jumpy sort of people,” her mother said. “Genteel. Which is why we never would have pegged Zormna as a Tarrn. As she is…well…all soldier.”
“Why did you take her in, then?” Jennifer asked.
Her parents shared looks. Then her father said, “Because, she was—is an obvious officer of the Surface Patrol.”
Obvious? Jennifer frowned.
“Her haircut,” her mother said, “is orphan grade military. The way she talks, and acts—we eventually asked her what her rank was.”
Jennifer blinked at them. “She knew what you were?”
They nodded together.
“The thing is,” her father said, “We cannot have a Tarrn living under our roof. You must understand, she is a time bomb, just waiting to go off.”
Jennifer frowned more.
“Everything about her is dangerous,” her mother said.
“Even though the world did not end way back when?” Jennifer waved her arm up to the attic.
Her parents equally blushed. They shared yet another look as her mother said, “Prophecies are a little sketchy. Maybe we miscalculated….”
But Jennifer rolled her eyes.
“You should not have brought her back,” her father said.
“Too late now,” Jennifer muttered, wondering if any of this was the truth. They were still being cryptic. How would this one person end the world? Strap a nuclear bomb on her and start World War III?
“Actually…” her mother looked to her father. “You are right. It is too late. The FBI will be watching her again, and therefore us. We can’t just throw her out. Not yet. It would look too suspicious.”
“We could make that girl run away again?” her father replied.
“That would also look suspicious,” her mother said. “They would ask why?”
“We could send her into the foster system,” her father said.
Jennifer stared at him. “No.”
They looked back to her, remembering she was there.
“And why not?” her father snapped. “She’s an orphan and not our child. Let her fend for herself.”
Violently shaking her head, Jennifer said, “Because it is cold and heartless. And the FBI would see through it. Just help her become an emancipated minor and be done with it.”
He sighed, frowning. Jennifer could somehow see the gears in his mind work. They were adding up emancipation as rewarding Zormna—and he so wanted to punish her. His hate was still there. And though Jennifer could now see that her parents would not physically harm Zormna, they still despised her simply for being a Tarrn.
Her mother finally said, “You understand now, Jennifer? Why Tarrns are a bad thing?”
It was a bit like a family feud, Jennifer thought.
“They will destroy everything,” her father said. “Everything. Your life will never be the same again.”
It already wasn’t.
Chapter Twenty-One: Three-Day Headache
“You can take a day off but you can’t put it back.”—anon—
Darkness. Dark faces. No, the light. Not the light! I don’t know any more! I’m not telling! I’d rather die! To die. Will I die? Will they kill me? The apple. It’s poison!
Zormna lurched up from the bed, breathing hard. Her heart thundered in her chest, filling her ears with ringing as an oddly new terror rushed through her. She groped around her neck for her medallion, as she had the feeling it had been stolen. She grabbed for the necklace, prying it from the clips attaching it to her bra straps and clutched the thick metal emblem tightly in her palm. It was still there. Why did she believe it would not be?
With a sigh, she dropped her head back to her pillow. She was still wearing her filthy tee shirt and shorts from Friday. Everything was the same as she left it. Except, her hair felt disgustingly greasy. She ran her fingers through it, staring at the sheen of oil she could feel. The attic was pitch black except for the light shining in from the small window. Staring at it, for just a moment Zormna had the oddest sensation that there ought to be bars in that window, and it was the wrong shape. And yet it was the same attic window she had stared at for countless weeks in the late hours since her arrival in the McLenna home.
The McLennas.
Immediately Friday’s events replayed in her mind. Her heart beat faster. Her memories ended the moment when she had thought she had seen the FBI car follow her quietly, with their headlights off. After that, nothing until Jennifer and Kevin were standing over her in the alley, saying three days had gone.
Three days…
Zormna groped the shelf over to the clock that sat above the bed. It was off to the side, not quite where it had been. It said, two twenty-three am.
Flopping back onto the bed, Zormna stared up at the ceiling.
What were those nightmares? They weren’t the same as they generally were. It had started like they usually did, with the day her parents were murdered. But soon after, the dream dragged on into something entirely new. Instead of being found by those who wanted her dead, strange men in white lab coats had discovered her hiding under the bed. And they did not brandish pistols with the intent to kill—they strapped her to a table, injected her with a needle, and asked her questions. What was her name? Where was she from? Is there a takeover? None of
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