A Dark Inheritance by D'Lacey Chris

Author:D'Lacey, Chris [D'Lacey, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Mystery, Young Adult, Adventure, Paranormal, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780545608763
Amazon: 0545608767
Goodreads: 18693360
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Published: 2014-05-05T07:00:00+00:00

My gran once told me that the first real sign of turning sea lion (I think she meant senile) is when you walk into a room to fetch something, but then you can’t remember what you came in for. That was how I felt when I woke the next morning. I knew I had been on some kind of journey, but I couldn’t remember a single detail. It was just as if someone had taken a brush and whitewashed a crucial part of my memory. It even took me several seconds to place Chantelle. As I stirred, she said, “Good sleep, Michael?”

I coughed and brought up something from my chest.

She was there in a moment, with a tissue, to catch my phlegm.

“My head hurts,” I mumbled. And my nose, strangely. I placed a finger inside it and broke a slight crust of blood against my nail. “Ow, my nose is sore.”

“You were dreaming,” she said, tossing away the tissue, “throwing your head around in the night.”

“Where am I?”

“In the clinic, where you’ve always been. We moved you to another room after … the incident.”

A room with no window.

“Rafferty,” I muttered. An image of me holding hands with her flashed through my mind but was gone so fast I couldn’t trap it. A whole pile of other stuff rushed in instead. Rafferty’s “visitation,” Chantelle with a gun, Freya’s heart transplant, Freya’s kiss, her running away from my bedside in terror. “Where’s Freya? I want to see Freya.”

“You will, shortly,” a familiar voice said.

In walked “Dr. K” in his usual immaculate suit, this time minus the doctor’s coat.

“What’s the matter, Michael? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Maybe I had. Somewhere not a zillion neurons away, I had the weirdest feeling that he ought to be dead. I even said, “You’re … alive.”

He smiled and wiggled his fingers for me. “I asked Chantelle to sedate you last night so we might carry out a small procedure. It’s not uncommon to suffer some mild confusion. I hope your dreams were not too troubling.”

“I don’t remember my dreams,” I said. My mind was always blank in the mornings — unlike Josie, who had colorful adventures every night. Our breakfast conversations were often dominated by her discoveries of pyramids on the moon or the strange things cows liked to talk about. But on this particular morning, I could feel my mind clawing at the edges of a dream. Falling. Water. Rafferty. A promise. Fragments, gone like dust in the wind. I looked at Chantelle and remembered her putting the needle in my arm. What was it Dr. K had said? Something about moving to the next level? “What have you done to me, Klimt?”

“Mr. Klimt,” he said. He picked up a clipboard and flicked through some sheets of medical notes. “If you work for me, Michael, you will show me some respect. I take it he hasn’t seen the mark yet?”

Chantelle shook her head. “I was waiting for you.”

On a nod from him, she rolled back my covers.

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