I would not go to that place. I threw my phone at the brick wall, not even bothering to hang up on my father. He rang me up while I was on my way home to tell me to pack my stuff because he was sending me to an academy just outside of London. ‘It was for special people.’ He had said. ‘People like you.’
I would rather die than go to some old academy for ‘special’ people. Dad said that he had attended for three years from the day he turned fifteen to when he was nineteen. And just look at the way HE turned out.
Yep, there was no way that I was going. But then again, I had had another dream about that boy. That boy’s name was Calum and he called to me constantly, even when I just closed my eyes for a little bit.
I had just left Violet’s house and was walking home despite her offer of giving me a lift. I declined politely, seeing that that meant that Violet would have to come and then she’d have to spend time with at least one of her constantly bickering parents. But it wasn’t long before a car pulled up and the heavily tinted windows rolled down.
“Hello, Opal. I’m one of your mother’s friends, Marcus. I think you and I need to have a little chat.” The man who looked as if he was in his early thirties didn’t even bother to stick his head out the window. I could see his white blonde hair slicked back not unlike the young Draco Malfoy.
“You know a girl can’t just get into the car with a complete stranger.” I flirted although he was way too old for me. He chuckled and the sound haunted me. It was dark, deep and it seemed to radiate around me. I could hear it seconds after he’d stopped laughing. I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and blinked. There was Calum, shaking his head at me and telling me to watch out and come to him. Ah, if only I knew how.
“It wasn’t a debatable topic, Opal. You will talk to me.”
I frowned and within a split second; Marcus’s hand shot out the window and held onto my arm. I didn’t even realise I was that close.
I closed my eyes and then felt like I was falling.
When I opened my eyes, my hands were cuffed behind me and a strip of duct tape prevented me from speaking or screaming. Marcus stared at me from across the table, his hands fidgeting with one of those stress balls. A heavily armed man stood in the corner, sharpening his arrows one by one, his sleeveless denim jacket fraying at the bottom. He then loaded one of the arrows into his crossbow. Marcus saw the terrified look on my face and turned to the very attractive but very terrifying muscled man in dirty jeans and black lace up boots. He had a silver blade in a sheath on one side and a gun resting next to his other leg.
He was quite tanned, and his hair made it just past his ears in short dark brown locks. He had deep-set eyes and a mouth in a constant frown. He put the crossbow down on the silver table and stared at me; distrust clear in squinting blue-green eyes. It was funny how much I was noticing about him.
“Norman, that’s enough.” Marcus said quietly. I had almost forgotten that Marcus was there. I don’t know how I forgot seeing as though my mouth was duct taped quite tightly and the handcuffs were digging into my wrists.
“Like what you’re seeing, do ya?” Norman asked me gruffly. He was American, that was obvious, he sounded awfully like one of those rednecks that you see on TV and in movies and stuff. I didn’t answer. Not that I could of course. He reached over the table and looked into my green eyes. He even stroked my long blonde hair. I flinched away- a reflex to having human contact. He then pulled his hand away. His other hand reached up and I closed my eyes. The duct tape hurt like hell when it was pulled off. But what did it matter when I could talk again.
“How the hell did I get here? What do you want with me? I’m not even 15 yet.” I wailed. Norman snorted with laughter. Marcus didn’t crack a smile.
“That’s exactly why we want you here. You are the daughter of a rather well-known Time Ender, one that we all specifically want dead. That information might shock you. The problem is that you are a Time Ender as well. Or, you will be once you hit 15. Time Jumpers can swap sides if they want. They can turn from being a Time Jumper to being a Time Ender; the other side just has to accept them as one of their own. We don’t know if Enders can do the same thing. That’s what we want to find out.” Marcus said. I gaped. Norman laughed again.
“Who are you guys?” I whispered.
“We are Time Jumpers. I’m Marcus, age somewhere about 571 years. This here is Norman; he’s relatively new, clocking in only 16 years.” Marcus told me. I nodded slowly.
“I’m going to need this explained to me a bit more. Maybe then I’ll join you, maybe not.” I sighed, “Oh, and if you really want me; hand cuffs off. I make the rules now; I make the terms and conditions. Got it?”
Norman smiled for the first time and opened his mouth, taunting me with his words.
“It’s ok, because no one reads the terms and conditions anyway.”