Arya out.
Time Shadows
Prologue
Mason Dalton McSanford. 1996-2010. A good friend and son. Imagine walking through a cemetery and seeing this name on a gravestone. Imagine your name is Mason Dalton McSanford. Mine is. Guess what? It's also the year 2013. No, I am not dead. Not even close. I disappeared three years ago, under mysterious circumstances, and people assumed I was dead. Without a body, they just held a service and put up a gravestone. They know I'm not buried there, but they also don't know where I am. I was taking Driver's Ed, and someone had sabotaged the car I was driving, causing me to lose control and plummet off a cliff. The teacher died, but I somehow survived. I crawled away from the wreckage, but no one knew. They all thought I was dead. I knew the truth. Someone was trying to kill me, but I went into hiding, changed my name, dyed my hair, and thanks to contact lenses, I now have brown eyes. I'm now seventeen years old and out on my own. But They know now. They know I'm not dead. My family, sure, they think I'm still rotting in a ditch somewhere, but They know the truth, and They're coming after me. They're going to kill me.
Chapter One
A Voice From the Grave.
Megan Camden was sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop open in front of her, a half-finished bowl of cereal beside her, and a mug of coffee in her hand. Her eyelids drooped as she checked the clock in the corner of her screen. 10:15. Still. She groaned. Her doorbell rang and she put her coffee down and went to the door. She opened it and looked out at a teenage boy with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes, in a plaid shirt and jeans.
“Yeah?” she said.
“Are you Megan Camden?”
“Who wants to know?”
“I'm Jared. Can I come in?”
“Sure...” Megan said slowly. Jared walked in and Megan closed the door behind him.
“Right over here. You can sit if you want.”
“Thanks.”
He sat on a couch, and Megan leaned up against a chair arm across from him.
“So, what did you want?”
“I wanted to warn you. You may not realize it, but you're in danger. You're not safe here. There are people looking for you.”
“Why? Why on earth am I important?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I'm not allowed to.”
“Are you a government agent or something?”
“Yeah, something like that. But I can't tell you a lot. You have to leave this house now. They know you're here.”
“Who're They? Or are you not allowed to tell me.”
“Not here. Maybe some other time. I can take you to a safe house now, if you want. Get what you need, and get out.”
Megan just looked at him.
“Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Megan, look at me. Do you think you can trust me?”
Megan looked at him closely.
“You look... familiar.”
Where have I seen him before?
She nodded.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Good. Now get your stuff, and let's get out of here.”
Megan ran up to her room and grabbed her purple backpack. She stuffed in a few outfits and her Ipod, then grabbed her laptop case, ran downstairs and shoved her laptop in. Stuffing a thumb drive into her pocket, she dumped her cereal and coffee in the trash and threw the bowl and mug in the sink, rinsing them down quickly, then grabbed her purse and ran out to the curb where Jared was waiting.
“I'm ready.”
“Toss the bags in the back and get in,” he said, jumping in a waiting car and buckling up. Megan jumped in the passenger seat, buckled, and Jared drove off.
Excerpt Diary Entry, March 16, 2013.
Today I got in a car with a total stranger with a wacko story that I'm in danger, and there are dangerous people looking for me, and might even kill me. He didn't even tell me who these people were, why they want me, or even his last name! I must be going crazy. Tell me I'm going crazy.
They drove up to a big house in the country with three stories, four towers, and lots of land around it. It took two minutes just to drive up the driveway. Jared parked, and Megan got out. She stared, open mouthed, at the impressive building. It was off-white, with green shutters at the windows, and a green door. Ivy clung to the sides, and grew up the posts on either side of the steps leading up to the porch. Jared grabbed her bags out of the back seat and walked up to the door, unlocking it and opening it for Megan. She walked inside and stared around at the vast main room. A big carpet covered most of the floor, and a giant crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. A few chairs sat around, mostly next to tables with bouquets of fake flowers sitting on them. Paintings hung from the walls, some of scenery, and one, hanging over the giant black marble fireplace, was of a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked a lot like Jared, and still... very familiar. She turned around and looked at Jared.
“What's your name?”
Jared looked up as he set her bags down.
“I told you.”
“No, last name.”
“Carrick.”
“That's interesting.”
“Why?”
“Carrick means 'cliff' or 'rock face'.”
“I know.”
“Well, I had a friend once who died when he drove off a cliff.”
Jared turned away.
“Really? That's sad. Follow me and I'll show you the upstairs.”
Megan followed him.
“Ok.”
The upstairs was just as big as the downstairs, and the rooms weren't as many as they were confusing. Passage leading to hallway, leading to room after room after room. They came into one with sheets over everything, and dust everywhere. Megan put down her purse, and Jared put down her bags. Megan walked over to what looked like the biggest piece of furniture, and pulled the sheet off of it. It fell to the ground, and under it was a large bed with a huge canopy over it, made of thin green gauze with gold thread running through it in an intricate design. Megan stared at it, then ran to the other sheets, pulling them off, revealing several other pieces of furniture, including a beautifully carved wooden roll-top desk. Megan immediately pulled out her laptop and set it up. She turned to Jared.
“How'd you get this place?”
“It was abandoned. Been in my family for years. I just fixed it up recently. It already had electricity. Someone thought of it a while back and installed it. I just dusted it up a bit, and it worked just fine.”
“How old is it?”
“Pretty old. I'm not sure how old, exactly. It's older than the Victorian age, even, I believe. You were looking at the painting over the fireplace. The boy in it, he was the original owner. This place has been passed down through his bloodline for centuries.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head, as if shaking off a daydream.
“As soon as you're ready, come on down to the parlor. It's just off the main room. Right ahead as you come down the stairs.”
He turned and left the room. Megan unpacked and pulled more sheets off the furniture. She got on her laptop and went to the internet and searched for the house. First, she searched Carrick House, then that didn't come up with anything, so she thought, what if the name was different years ago, and from the line being passed down, it might have changed, so the name could be anything. She checked her email, then closed her laptop and went downstairs. She ran across to the parlor Jared had spoken of, and looked about. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Jared?” she called, looking around.
“In here,” his voice called from another room.
“Hold on, I'll be right there.”
He walked in, holding two mugs on a tray, and a coffeepot, a plastic bottle of creamer, and a sugar bowl. He set it down on a table in the middle of the room.
“Coffee?”
“Yes please.”
“How do you like yours?”
“One spoon of sugar, and a dash of creamer.”
He poured the coffee into a mug, then added the sugar and creamer. Handing it to her, he began to fill the other mug, and said,
“I suppose you deserve an explanation. Well, it started in this house, a really long time ago. Over a hundred years, in fact. There's a legend that the original owner of this house- there's another picture of him over there- died mysteriously. Apparently, he was attacked, and killed. Someone set out to destroy his bloodline, and they tried to kill his family, but they escaped. Ever since then, the family has been hiding, trying to avoid detection from these people who were trying to kill them. These enemies finally struck again fifteen years ago, then once more four years ago. The former attack succeeded, the latter did not. Four years ago, they tried to kill me, and it didn't work, so they're going to try again.”
“But what does this have to do with me?”
“You're from the other bloodline. Legend also says that the owner's wife remarried to hide from these killers, and she had three daughters, two of which died. From the third daughter came the other bloodline, and you are descended from that one. The legend states that there was a treasure in this house once, and two descendants, one from each bloodline, will find this treasure, so they're after you, too. I don't know what they'll do, but I can assure you, it won't be nice.”
“Oh.”
Megan put down her coffee.
Excerpt Diary Entry, March 16, 2013.
So now I find out that I'm a part in some crazy legend that says I'll find a treasure, and some guys are out to get me. Welcome to loony-ville. “Mysterious circumstances” my foot! What a crackpot. But I'll admit, he is kinda cute. And he still reminds me of someone...
Megan took her coffee back upstairs and began working on her laptop. She worked as a writer, on occasion, writing stories all day, and typing on her laptop all night. She was currently working on a novel for a writing competition, and hoped to at least get an honorable mention. This running away had put her slightly behind, but not by much. She typed and typed the rest of the day, exhausting her coffee quickly, and Jared thoughtfully came upstairs with lunch and dinner for her. After a long and confusing day, she pulled off her jeans and T-shirt, yanked on an old sweatsuit she had packed, and flopped headlong into the big bed. She was asleep in minutes.
James Matthew McSanford sat in his chair in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames. He knew They were after him, and he knew why. He had sent his wife and children out to a house, far away in the country, to protect them. He looked up at his picture over the fireplace. It was an older picture, of when he was seventeen. He was now twenty-eight, and his oldest son, who was six, when he had sent his family away, had looked up at him, and had said quietly, in all seriousness,
“Goodbye, Father. I'll protect them.”
James smiled a sad smile now at the recollection. It was as if little Matthew had known that his father was not coming back. James heard a creak and stood quickly to his feet. He looked about, but saw no one. Then a figure stepped from the shadows. James looked closely at him, but could not tell who it was. Whoever it was, they pulled out a gleaming knife, and a small struggle ensued. Then one man emerged the victor. James lay slain on the floor, a gaping wound in his chest, and a half-smile lingering on his face.
When Megan woke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. She got up and walked over to the desk, and noticed a tray on a table by the window. She went over and found that there was a plate of waffles, a jar of syrup, a glass of orange juice, and a fork and napkin. She found she was hungry and devoured the food. She looked over and saw a note, folded, under the jar of syrup. After she detached it from the bottom of the jar, she carefully unfolded the sticky paper and read.
Megan, I'll be out until noon. I doubt you can find the kitchen by yourself, so I left you breakfast. I hope you like it. Feel free to explore the house. The attics aren't very safe, though, so please don't walk around up there. It's fine if you just look into them.
See you later,
Jared
She smiled and folded the note back up. After detaching it again, this time from her fingers, she put it on the desk and changed into an old pair of jeans and a thin sweater. She put on her sneakers and grabbed her cellphone, then left the room. After exploring for over an hour, she finally found the staircase to the third floor. It was dusty up there, and dim, because the windows were so dirty, and the lights were off. She couldn't find any light switches, so she used the flashlight on her cellphone to see. There were cobwebs everywhere, and furniture with sheets over them, like downstairs, but these sheets were stained, dusty, dirty, disgusting sheets. They might have been white at one time, but now they were brown. She wandered around, then got bored and went back downstairs. It was almost lunchtime, so she walked down to the parlor and looked about. Jared walked into the room with two sandwiches.
“I thought you'd be down here by now. I made a sandwich for you.”
“Thanks.
“No problem. I realize this is a bit weird for you, being swept up into this sort of thing.”
“Yeah, a little. But it’s exciting, too. It’s like one of those mystery vacation things that they advertise on cereal boxes, except, more real, and less safe.”
Jared gave a small grin, the first one Megan had seen. She smirked good-naturedly.
“Ah, so you do have a sense of humor!”
“I suppose so. It doesn’t come out to play very often, though.”
“How long have you been on your own?”
“Maybe three years. I don’t get much company out here, and it’s rare that I leave.”
“You’re hiding?”
“Yes. I don’t know what else to do. I’m not prepared to face these people, and I don’t know where else to go. There’s no one on my side, so I hide.”
“I’m here now.”
“Not by choice, but by birthright. A birthright I wish you didn’t have.”
“You care about this, don’t you?”
“Yes, I care a lot.”
“Well, we have to figure something out. By the way, you’re a pretty good cook.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice cooking for myself for four years. It doesn’t always turn out great, though.”
“I won’t ask how many times you’ve failed cooking class, then.”
“Thank you. Finished with your lunch?”
“Yes, thanks. I think I’ll finish exploring.”
Jared stood up with the plates and turned to go.
“There’s a flashlight and batteries in the desk in your room, if you need it. I have a floor plan for the house, just in case.”
“Thanks. You’ve been very nice.”
Megan also stood.
“Least I can do,” Jared said as he left the room.
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