Читать книгу Immortal - Tina Bright - Страница 3

Boston. Massachusetts.

At the end of August, the freshness of the breeze came to Boston from the ocean and finally dispelled the suffocating heat. The stone jungle was able to take a break from the heat and breathe deeply. At this season, the city became especially beautiful, filled with the atmosphere permeated with knowledge, excitement from the approach of a new stage in life and the rustle of pages. Tens of thousands of freshmen flocked from all over the country to this amazing city to become part of the great Harvard brotherhood or to learn exact sciences at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Everyone had their own dream, in the implementation of which no one could doubt, inhaling the wonderful aroma of the city, which motivated and inspired confidence.

But no one dared to confess a constant sense of fear. When you come to Boston from a small town, with all your provincial habits, you get the fear that you will never get used to it and blend in. Boston, like New York, was famous for its outstanding scientists who had achieved success. However, a number of failures also became the talk of the town. The city simply chewed those who got lost in the abundance of opportunities and spit them out to the edge of life.

Personally, I felt terribly afraid, and I preferred to keep silent about it. It was my first day away from home, my first day of independent life away from family and friends. My boyfriend Jackson came along with me. Though we spent almost all our life together, it was frightening and uncomfortable to realize that we would live together as a real couple.

We almost immediately found an apartment on the outskirts of Boston. Jackson did not want to live in the dormitory far from me, so we did not hesitate to rent an apartment of 29 sq.m. that had struck us with its atmosphere. It immediately seemed so cozy that I felt like crying and laughing from the feeling of being like home.

All our belongings fitted into the trunk of the Jackson's pre-owned Ford, and now these few boxes were scattered randomly around in the bedroom.

"We should have marked them!" I involuntarily shuddered from unexpected touches of Jackson, which brought me out of my reverie. "Did I scare you? I am sorry!" Jackson leaned his cheek against my ear, as he always did hoping to reassure me. "You have nothing to fear. Soon we will get used to the new place, make friends, find a job. Everything will be all right!"

"I know. It's just unusual not to hear the cries of the little ones, not to help my mother around the house, not to think about final exams…" and yet there was this strange feeling of anxiety inside, which did not pass no matter what I did.

"By the way! We still did not celebrate your graduation! Your friends insist on a party," my boyfriend's posed enthusiasm touched me. He never liked parties, but I did. My friends oftentimes had those evenings when Jackson came along with me and acted like a knight in shining armor if things got out of hand. It should be noted that it was an ordinary thing when Mickey and Rosy were the ones to organize the event. My best friends are walking disasters.

"Oh, no! Please! I don't feel like having a party right now. There's still so much to do before the semester starts."

"I'm afraid they won't back off. You know them well! They are not going to stop…" Jackson started laughing.

The only good news was that the girls would move to Boston in two days. And only then they would organize a party to celebrate the graduation, which we were deprived of due to Director Sanders. This old intriguer did not allow us to attend our own graduation. The day before the exams, he searched our drawers, where the students kept their secrets. In the end, he found a package of weed in the drawer of some cheerleader, and we all were deprived of the right to attend one of the most important events in our lives. Due to the absence of graduates, the chic ball turned into some gathering with homemade pizza and the signature toddy of our math teacher. Something told me it was Mr. Sanders' thoughtful step to save the school budget.

It took us long to persuade Mr. Sanders to let us at least pass the exams, otherwise, we would not be able to apply to universities. We defended this right though had to say goodbye to the party.

Not that I was too worried about it. On the contrary, instead of a stupid ball with voting for a queen and a king of the class, I had an unforgettable evening with my family. We said goodbye to my parents who did not want to let me go as if Boston was not three hours away from our home but on the other side of the Universe. And here we are far from all the friends, plunged into the routine of independent life.

I felt exhausted by the evening. We had no bed but a mattress with pillows, though it seemed unusually attractive and infinitely comfortable. It is so strange that people sometimes leave a cozy father's house for the sake of independence in an empty and cold apartment with dilapidated walls. We fly out of the parent's nest, filled with dreams and great plans, enthusiasm to implement them but, eventually, we turn into the same slaves of routine as our parents and hundreds of generations before them. One way or another, we still had a lot of strength and hope that our life with Jackson would be filled with a little more meaning than "home-work-children-death."

The next morning, I went to the Harvard Administrative Corps. I did not believe that I still managed to enter the most prestigious and old university in the country. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship since my parents could not afford to pay for my tuition regardless of their desire. Though, I had to cover myself the rest of the expenses. Jackson helped me with financial matters, but I had already arranged a couple of interviews because I could not be a drain on his pocket and wanted to help him pay for the apartment and other current bills.

After filling out a bunch of forms and finishing all the formalities at the university, I decided to take a walk around the territory. The green lawn was neatly trimmed as if calling to sit down and enjoy the book by Shakespeare; the majestic buildings, built of red brick, were waiting for the arrival of new students. The smell inside was amazing: the combination of old volumes of books, leather and wood inspired to acquire knowledge. Now I understood the worship of Harvard students to their University, who were honored to become members of the brotherhood and proud to be called the graduates of the Ivy League Institution for the rest of their lives. Most of them worshipped Harvard University so much that they would constantly wear various attributes, confirming their association with the university, starting with caps and ending with hoodies.

I was honored to be a part of this amazing cult and, having spent only a couple of hours in the territory, had no idea how I could study elsewhere.

It took me a couple of hours of walking through the University's territory to study all possible routes and visit the open buildings. By the end of the day, I was filled with the same excitement as the rest of the Harvard fans.

"You're glowing!" Jackson smiled at me when I got home.

"I can't wait to start the semester and visit all the classrooms, read all the books, have lunch in the canteen, and meet the professors!"

"I think you've caught the Harvard fever!" Jackson squeezed me in his arms.

"Is this how you call the delight of being in Harvard at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology?"

"No. This is my know-how!" he laughed and we began to kiss, rolling back and forth on the mattress.

It was hard to understand Jackson Wink. We had known each other for more than 10 years, but I still had not reached the depths of his knowledge. He was only 3 years older than me. Though, sometimes it seemed like he was 30 years older. He knew literally everything about everything, could build unthinkable mechanisms from scrap and repair any equipment. At the age of 21, he patented two inventions, which provided him with a position of the trainee in the Development Department of the Boston Dynamics Company. I was terribly proud of him, though I felt bored at times when Jackson was entirely devoted to his inventions.

In these frequent moments, I liked to admire his perfect complexion and well-shaped constitution. Sceptics from the outside could call him the standard of male beauty. He was of an attractive appearance with no zest and no charisma, which was typically shown on the cover of some tabloid. For me, there was no better man in the world but him. I loved stroking his short hair, which tickled my palms, massaging his mighty shoulders, which he inherited from his ancestors that made everybody get madly envy and consider the existence of such a body without the slightest effort to be unfair. Jackson's only drawback was poor eyesight, which caused him to wear glasses, as he categorically rejected the lenses.

According to karmic laws, it was incomprehensible that I, being of no remarkable appearance and mind, was able to get this guy. Yet he loved me for some unthinkable reason. I was sure that he was only loyal to me and I reciprocated, realizing that I have the best of men. It was very presumptuous to believe at such a young age that this circumstance could not be changed, but something suggested that one way or another, our lives would be bound until the end of our days.

"Darsy Black, do you know you're the most amazing girl in the world?" Jackson suddenly asked, having stepped aside.

"When I look into your eyes, I start to believe it."

And, indeed, it was impossible to doubt something that was said in such a tone. His eyes reflected the depth of these emotions. Those beautiful hazel eyes simply were not capable of lying.

"Pasta or risotto?" beside everything else, he was a skillful cook. He was a perfect man. My stomach growled piteously.

"Pasta!"

"Good choice!" Jackson winked at me and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. "With seafood, right?"

"It's my favorite," I smiled, anticipating a small feast.

After having a delicious pasta and washing dishes, I got a call from my mother.

"How are you doing?" I was worried.

"Nothing unusual. It's noisy and dirty. Mary doesn't want to fall asleep without your bedtime story. I could barely stand until she calmed down yesterday."

"Put her on the phone."

A minute later, I heard my little sister's voice in the receiver,

"You left us!" she whimpered.

"I know, my angel! It's not forever! I need to study. And I will visit you on weekends. You should help our mother with the boys because only girls can keep everything in order around the house, right?"

"Yes, but everything is different without you!"

"I understand. Don't be sad. Mom says you don't want to fall asleep without a bedtime story… Let's make a deal that I will tell you stories every evening and you will help Mom. Deal?"

"Ok!" the sister got enthusiastic.

"What story would you like to listen tonight?"

"About the Dragon and Prince Charming!"

I started telling her a fairy tale. It has been six years since I began telling my little sister fairy tales every evening without which she refuses to fall asleep. She is only eight years old. She looks so much like an angel with her blonde curls and so unlike me with brown hair. We often came up with stories together and we always imagined ourselves to be princesses, who were depicted on the covers of children's books, being completely different in appearance, but with similar stories that must necessarily end well. Soon, she will grow up and stop believing in happy endings, and hopefully learn to live in real life. Otherwise, her life will be filled with sorrowful disappointments, because life is full of imperfections, and everything is much more prosaic. Every such disappointment changes you into a different person, not as pure as in childhood.

One could hear the child's puffing on the other end, and the mother picked up the phone again.

"What would I do without you? It's amazing how you get along!"

"How are the boys? How is the father?"

"Everything is great, but I miss you. We all miss you madly. We're waiting for you this weekend after you get settled in a new place. How's everything with Jackson?"

"Everything's great! You know he will not let me get into trouble. I went to the campus. I can't wait until the classes start! I also signed up for two interviews, and I hope to get at least one job offer."

"You're gonna make it! You're a good girl."

Mother's praise was priceless. She sounded tired, and we soon said goodbye to each other, so that we both could get rest.

Two days later, as Jackson predicted, my friends arrived. Each visit of Rosy and Mickey usually turned into some chaos. It was literally like a natural cataclysm – unstoppable, destructive, and devastating. They flew in like a whirlwind, made a disorder and left back home, leaving others to mop up the mess. But, personally, I loved these two noisy ladies, who at the moment were constructing something unimaginable on my head – "evening coiffure".

"This is the latest trend. Everyone will be amazed!" happy Mickey was chattering. She was the brains, and Rosy was the brawn.

"Who are you talking about? Will someone tell me where we are going?"

"This will be a surprise, babe! But, trust me, you'll be delighted with our choice," Rosy said.

My friends would always repeat that phrase at the beginning of each crazy adventure that ended, as a rule, very badly: with injuries, robbery, accident, or something like that. And every time it started with a surprise. That's why I didn't like them… And where did this strange love for such adventures come from?

When my appearance finally was accepted as satisfactory, the four of us took Jackson's car and headed in unknown direction. This time, Rosy dressed me in her short skirt and a suede top with thin straps. This was far from my style, but I did not want to argue with friends.

According to global standards, Boston was not a big city. It was spanning among the modest hills. Majestic skyscrapers filled the night city with colorful lights, making Boston even more beautiful at night than during the day. This city never slept.

Admiring the beauty, I did not notice how we parked at one of the most popular nightclubs in the city. Few people knew that this nightclub hosted the opening party of the new semester at Harvard. Freshmen, and especially students from other universities (like Jackson), were not allowed – but not today. We easily got inside and dove into the world of student madness in the nightclub called Royal.

"My goodness!" Rosy gasped.

I tactfully remained silent, and Jackson pulled me closer. He was clearly not a fan of such places. And this time, I completely agreed with him.

The atmosphere of debauchery, intoxication and rampant fun reigned in the club. The place amazed by its size from the outside, but inside there was neither free space nor fresh air. The dance floor was crowded with drunken students rubbing against each other and jumping in some frantic and chaotic rhythm.

We barely made our way to the bar and ordered a cocktail, Jackson refused to drink. After another cocktail, my head began to pound, and the whole event began to seem not so terrible. We spent the next couple of hours on the dance floor, only occasionally stopping for drinks, which Mickey's fake license helped us to buy.

"We have two reasons for celebration today!" Mickey screamed in my ear.

"What is the second one?" I asked her.

Mickey nodded at Rosy, who was spinning about her axis.

"Our friend finally did THIS last weekend! Whoo!" Mickey started screaming. Apparently, she meant that Rosy and her boyfriend, with whom they had been flirting for a few months and then dating for a year, were close enough to make Rosy become a woman. Despite her lifestyle, Rosy was still a virgin at 18. She was afraid of intimacy, even though we told her there was nothing to worry about.

"Is it the floor or my head spinning?" I asked my friends.

Obviously, they were as drunk as I was, leaning on some guys, completely unaware of their actions and consequences they may lead to.

"Damn it!" Jackson muttered.

"What happened?" I barely uttered.

"The alarm went off. Will you be ok without me for a few minutes?" one could see the anxiety in his eyes, but it was not clear whether for me or for the car.

"Sure! I will be fine," I waved.

Jackson disappeared in the crowd. Without his support, I suddenly doubted my words. My stomach twisted, and I had to rush outside not to throw up at my feet. It was not that easy to push away the raging crowd. They seemed to make fun of me, deliberately pushing back. I was getting worse, and I was ready to crawl between the legs just to get out of the stuffy place.

I saw the desired exit ahead of me, and it was just within a step away. My feet carried me to the door. It was the emergency exit. I got out just into the narrow deserted street, along which garbage bins and black bags stood. At least there was no crowd. The air was cold, soaked with garbage stench. And even that was better than staying inside.

I threw up between the garbage bins and finally felt the relief.

"I will never drink that much again."

My legs became weak and did not obey. I decided to take a break for a few minutes. Leaning on the garbage bin, I felt drowsy. I made a bad choice.

Suddenly, a man appeared in front of me. He hit the metal dumpster, apparently, to frighten me, in which he undoubtedly succeeded.

"I have nothing! Please don't hurt me!" I automatically begged in a whisper.

Fear paralyzed me. The man was only a couple of inches away, and I could see every detail of his face. He froze for a long few moments in an unnatural position, which was extremely uncomfortable for his height. It seemed that his height was no less than three meters. His hands were covered in some ooze resembling the oil, his face was ash-grey with every vein swollen under the skin. It was incredible, but I got the feeling that his veins were filled not with blood but with the same liquid as on his hands. He literally and figuratively smelled death – as if the smell was familiar to me. But his eyes were the most frightening part of his appearance. They were not of this world, this very man was not of this world. If it was Halloween today, I would think that he chose a perfect makeup for such an occasion.

"I don't want anything from you! On the contrary, I want to give you something!" the man said. His voice sounded as if he was in some catacomb. At that moment, I was ready to believe that he was not a human at all.

"I don't need anything from you! Just let me go!" my common sense had gone somewhere, and instead of pitching the madman a line, I behaved like a frightened girl whom I actually was.

The man laughed and opened his black mouth. He placed his hands around my head and clenched them in an iron grip. I could not move and even make a sound as if being hypnotized. The black smoke erupted from the monster's mouth and slipped into mine. The cold, fear and darkness filled me from the inside. I could feel this loathsome thing with my every tendon, vein, and cell. Everything was changing – my feelings, thoughts, and desires, as if I was turning into the same dark creature as the man in front of me.

He breathed out the last drops and left, leaving me paralyzed like it'd never happened. Billions of feelings and thoughts went through my body. Countless faces appeared in my head, each expressing the death torment. I could hear the prayers, though I was all by myself at the place. Even the pain of these people did not escape me. Tones of hellish water were squeezing my chest. These waters compelled me, instilling the desire to drown. Their color was unusual – the black waters were glittering with silver due to the souls inside them. I felt their pain, anger, and terror, witnessed their suffering. I wanted to ease their pain more than anything in the world, but they now became the part of that eternal flow as a sign of punishment.

Stretching out my hand, I felt the warmth and the scorching cold of the flow at the same time. The river absorbed me in the twinkling of an eye. I dissolved in its black waters.

My consciousness was disturbed by some bright light. The morning sun rays lit up a small room.

I blinked a few times. Was it our apartment? How was that possible? I was definitely confused. Alcohol had evaporated, and I was left with tons of questions and a headache. All the past memories were nothing but delirium under intoxication, and this realization made me feel somehow better.

I was still wearing yesterday's clothes. I was lying on the mattress, carefully covered with a blanket. My head was throbbing, my body ached, and my throat smarted with thirst. Jackson had thoughtfully put a glass of water and some pills on a plate near the mattress. As soon as I greedily swallowed the pills and gulped the water, Jackson entered the room.

He did not look angry but tired and worried. He sat down next to me.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Terrible! I feel ashamed. Don't ever let me drink so much!"

"Deal!" he smiled and patted me on the cheek.

"How did you find me?"

"That was some adventure. I went almost crazy when I didn't find you in the company of your friends. They reached that condition when they saw no difference between me and the bartender. I spent an hour wandering around the dance floor until I heard two security guards talking. They wanted to call an ambulance for the girl in the backyard. And it turned out that that girl was you. I didn't let them, but, apparently, I should have…" he shook his head.

"Why?"

"You were barely breathing. All night you were shuddering and screaming as if someone was strangling you in your dream."

"Rosy and Mickey are to blame. They refilled my drink when I wasn't looking. I fall for it every time. And why do they do this all the time? By the way, how are they?"

"I brought them home safe and sound against their will. I have no doubt that they will resent me for some time because I have kidnapped them from the strong embraces of senior students."

These two could have been up to anything if Jackson had not gotten there! And they would have regretted it.

"Okay, I'll go take a shower… I'm sorry about yesterday! This will never happen again!" I said, kissed Jackson on the cheek, and ran to the bathroom.

It was still filled with dense steam after Jackson’s shower. I wiped the steam off the mirror and looked at myself, being ready to see the outcome of yesterday's party. I saw an exhausted girl with dark circles under the eyes and messy hair as if birds were nesting there. The clothes were not that dirty except for stains from the garbage bin. Suddenly, a strange liquid on my hair caught my attention. It was not vomiting or dirt. I looked at my fingers with its traces. It was sticky and black, and the smell was the worst. My hair was dirty right in those places where that scary guy touched me.

"It wasn't a dream, right? Or at least not everything."

I tried to calm down and analyze the memories. Last night, I was drunk and a man covered in some liquid, came after me. You never know where Boston's hobos swarm. I had no valuable possessions, that's why he left. But alcohol intoxication caused hallucinations or I simply fell asleep and had a dream. That's it. It's simple!

I got undressed, stepped into the shower, and stood for a long time with my eyes closed under the streams of warm water. All these blockbusters about superheroes, horror stories, and mysticism were nothing but the embodiment of someone's sick imagination, and nothing like this could happen in real life. People with superpowers are created by those who have no desire to live within reality-of-life, who are trying to get out of the box at least with the help of books or movies. When we are young we all believe in fairy tales, like my sister Mary does. I have to come up with new stories for her, risking to turn her into a modern neurotic, who believes in aliens and ghosts. I was a realist and gave preference to real, true, and natural things. Any truth was much nicer than the most beautiful lie; that is why I probably chose to study law to carry the truth and protect its rights. I have been disappointed too many times in this life. I have chosen not to lie to myself and not to let myself believe someone else's lies.

Someone knocked on the door. Jackson wondered why I was staying so long in the shower.

"Already coming out!"

It was time to get out and get ready for an interview. It supposed to be my first one.

I glanced at my hands and, screaming, jumped off to the back wall of the bathroom. Feverishly washing off the sticky black substance, I almost went into hysterics when I realized that it only continued to spread through the body.

"No, no, no!" I kept repeating and heard some strange voice.

The black water was flowing down my body with thin trickles, and I burst into tears.

Someone opened the door.

"What's wrong?" Jackson stepped into the shower with clothes on and began to shake me, trying to bring me to my senses.

I was still in an emotional tantrum. What is happening? Am I going crazy? Have I hit my head?

Jackson switched off the water and wrapped me in a towel. Then he carefully pulled me out of the tub and carried to the kitchen. I did not resist and did not open my eyes. He put the kettle on the stove and began to set the breakfast on the table.

"Now you'll eat, and everything will go away," he was saying the things he did not understand.

I was glad that he did not ask what was happening to me because it was unlikely for me to find the answer to this question at the moment.

Tea with melissa had a calming effect on me. All this could be somehow explained. Being under the influence of a nightmare, I overreacted. After all, the liquid flowing down my body was nothing but the dirt from my hair. That's all! I ran my hand through my hair. It was clean. It was more than just a relief. I felt like I found out that I was cured of cancer.

Jackson put a bowl of my favorite cereals in front of me, but it did not look as good as usual because of nausea.

"You need to eat something even if you don't feel like it. Your body has lost a lot of fluid and needs recharging."

"Have you ever been told that you sound like you're reading a scientific article?"

"No. You are the first one!" he smiled and put a spoon of cereals in the mouth, purring with satisfaction.

My stomach dropped from hunger. I repeated Jackson's movements, making the same sound.

"That's better!"

Having looked at my breakfast, for a moment, I saw milk turned black and instead of cereals, the souls of the dead were looking at me. I could not take my eyes away looking at the little faces. One of them noticed me and flew at me.

Fear brought me to my senses, and I recoiled, knocking over the chair and spilling my breakfast.

"That's too much! I'm done!" I said and locked myself in the room.