(Sur)real

Note to the reader: Unlike the previous books in this series, (Sur)real is written from multiple points of view to allow you to revisits all the characters you've come to love and to provide broader insight into what's happening. I hope you enjoy!

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The past…

OLIVIA…

I concentrated on writing a letter, a hard task to complete, considering I was blind to the real world. Swirls of grey outlined the shape of the desk before me as the Others tried to help.

“Trace the letter b on the paper,” I said softly.

A tiny swirl started in the center of my vision. I moved the pen I held toward that spot.

“Show me the tip of my pen, too, so I know where to aim.” With care, I traced a ‘b’ on the paper under my pen. “Is it lining up well?”

A horrible wailing moan pierced the air. It wasn’t a sound of agreement, but a warning.

“Who’s coming?”

“Blaaaake...” The word was more of a long moan.

Hurrying, I put the paper in the desk’s drawer and opened the braille book I’d set to the side. My door opened just as I set my fingers to the page. The Others’ ghostly grey forms swirled around Blake in an agitated display. They liked Blake.

“Olivia,” Blake said. An unsuspecting listener might think he said it in greeting. I knew better.

“Good morning, Father.”

He remained in the doorway, observing me for a moment.

“I feel as if you’re hiding something from me...what are you doing?” Suspicion and accusation collided in his tone.

“I apologize. This book is an action thriller about—”

“I don’t care. Come. You’ll spend the day in the Family building.”

“Yes, Father,” I said, suppressing the dread I wanted to feel.

As soon as I stood, the Others moved away from Blake to swirl around the objects in the room, creating a grey, visual display of my surroundings so I could move unencumbered.

Blake led the way from the room, and I followed.

“You’ve always been closed off, Olivia, which I appreciate. However, you’ve been behaving out of character lately. I don’t like it, and I don’t trust it.”

“I apologize, Father. I’ve been dwelling on the problems with my sisters, trying to find a way to help.”

He cocked his head and inhaled deeply as we continued to walk. He wouldn’t detect a lie, though. I always told the truth. He stopped to open a door and held it for me.

The cool breeze stole my breath as I stepped outside.

“The families will help you stop dwelling on problems that are not your concern,” he said, continuing down the sidewalk.

Looking further ahead, I watched as the Others danced along the large building that loomed before us. Thousands of them filled the air. I couldn’t remember a time without them. They were always with me.

When Blake and I approached the front of the building, a woman opened the door. I wasn’t sure who it was, though. I just knew it wasn’t one of the nice ones. They were never allowed out because they would run if given the chance.

“I will see you at dinner,” Blake said abruptly, turning and leaving me to walk the rest of the way now that someone was waiting for me.

“Good morning,” I said softly to whoever waited.

“Olivia.”

The single word was enough to recognize Marie. I stepped inside and waited for her to lead the way to the central meeting room. A child ran past us. It—I couldn’t tell male or female at such a young age—slammed into my leg with a toy as it ran past. I didn’t flinch though I knew I’d wear a bruise in a few hours.

Marie said nothing about the incident, but I knew she’d heard. Ahead, the chatter of childish voices drew my attention, along with the lower murmurs of their mothers as they watched their young playing.

When we reached the central room, the children and women quieted for only a moment then resumed. Marie left me, and I made my way to a chair set along the wall. The Others raced with the children, keeping up with their play so I could see what went on around me. A child ran up and pulled my hair before running away.

I turned to look at the mothers.

“I won’t tolerate any abuse.”

A few laughed but didn’t answer. Another child ran up to me. Its hand darted out toward my face, a slap or a scratch intended. I swatted the hand, and the child giggled before running off. It was a game to them. The blind girl who could see.

It had been like this from the moment I came to live with them.

My earliest memory of Blake seemed to have set the tone for my life, and the tone was very reminiscent of a death march. I couldn’t have been more than four the first time I’d noticed him. A woman I couldn’t recall had been holding my hand and leading me from a building where doctors liked to watch me play. Back then, I hadn’t yet spoken any human words, though I’d understood them. I’d been listening to the Others since as long as I could remember, and the grownups around me had assumed I was deaf and blind because I emulated the language of the Others. I could only guess that my parents hadn’t liked my moaning wails.

While leaving that building so long ago, I’d been wailing to the Others around me, watching them dance and swirl, when a large chunk of them had broken off to dance around a single person. They’d moved so fast and accurately that I recalled seeing every detail of the man’s face in their swirling shades of greys. Stopping, I’d watched the man across the street continue to walk, unaware of the storm around him.

“Come on, Olivia.”

The woman had given me a gentle tug, and I’d wailed louder and pointed, drawing the man’s attention.

“No, honey, it’s not nice to point.” But it had been too late. He’d seen me. More than that, he’d caught my scent, and something about it made him cross the street and follow us at a distance.

The woman and I had walked to a parking garage, and I remembered what had happened next with complete clarity. Blake had called out to the woman, asking something. She’d paused and turned. Blake had moved super-fast and had her head between his hands while I watched. He’d twisted sharply, and the woman had fallen to the ground.

I remembered how I’d trembled in fear. Then, a voice had come to me, and the Others around me had slowed, almost blinding me.

“Child, you are not alone. Go to him. Have courage.”

I’d tipped my head up, trying to see the man again.

“Lift your arms to him.”

A child came running up to me, pulling me from the past. I avoided another blow and stayed in the present, waiting for the hours to pass.

Marie came to sit with me as many of the families left to fix lunch. She didn’t offer me food, and I didn’t ask for any. She wasn’t my friend. None of the women in this room ever would be.

It was my fault that I was enduring the families. Blake knew I didn’t care for the family building. He knew how I was treated. And, he used it as a punishment for not behaving as he expected. I was a tool to the Urbat, a disposable asset. I needed to behave accordingly.

My fate could have been graver. Instead of treating me like a daughter, Blake could have treated me like a human, or worse, a werewolf. I’d heard tales from the women of how the Urbat population had grown. I’d even met a few pure werewolf females.

Long ago, before I’d even been born, Blake had met the controller, Charlene. Back then, both the Urbat and the werewolves had been struggling. The last war between the two races had left their numbers decimated, the werewolves more so than the Urbat. After that war, the Urbat leaders had passed down one directive. Keep the werewolf population low so they wouldn’t be a threat again.

The best way to do that was to keep the female population low. Blake and his crew had been out hunting a Mated pair they’d heard about when they came across another rumor. A human female was living with a werewolf pack.

By the time they’d reached the werewolf settlement, the woman had been fully entrenched in the pack and committed to the leader. But the best part was that years of obscurity had seemed to erase knowledge of the Urbat from the werewolves. Blake and his men had stood in their midst and the werewolves hadn’t even known.

It was a defining moment for Blake. He’d looked around at what the controller was doing and followed her example with the Urbat. He’d forced his men out into the human world. They’d adapted or faced punishment. In reward for their obedience, they had been allowed to capture, not kill, the werewolf females if the females hadn’t established a connection to the leaders of their kind. The Urbat mated with the captured females but did not take them as Mates. That increased the Urbat population while bringing the werewolf population low. Half-breed werewolf children were raised to hate the werewolves and sent to infiltrate the werewolf community.

The werewolf women never lived long. Like wild animals forced into cages, their spirits faded until they gave up. I could think of only one who still survived and was older than me. However, I hadn’t seen her since she’d become pregnant again.

Most of the Urbat women were half-breeds. As long as they showed strong Urbat traits, they were welcomed and treated very well. If they didn’t...well, Blake couldn’t allow the werewolf population to grow.