Forgotten (The Lost Children Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  FORGOTTEN

  The Lost Children Trilogy

  Book One

  KRISTA STREET

  Copyright © 2013 by Krista Street

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-10: 1-946884-00-6

  ISBN-13: 978-1-946884-00-8

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted or distributed in any printed or electronic form, or stored in a database or retrieval system for any commercial or non-commercial use, without the author’s written permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any places, business establishments, events or occurrences, are purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Deranged Doctor Design.

  DEDICATION

  To my sister, Marla, my first fan and for many years my only fan.

  Thanks for believing in me!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SNEAK PEEK

  CHAPTER ONE

  The cowboy’s cloud danced and swayed around his shoulders, its color pure white. Clouds didn’t get much better than that. He’d be a safe ride.

  “Where you headed?” The cowboy’s arm draped across the steering wheel in the old diesel. The truck grumbled softly in the quiet morning.

  “West.” I snapped my vision back to normal. His cloud disappeared.

  “Well, that’s where I’m goin’ too. Hop in if you want a ride.”

  I pulled the door open and slipped inside. With relief, I dropped my backpack at my feet. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  “Not a problem. I’m Pete.”

  Smiling, I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m Lena.”

  I guessed Pete to be in his early sixties. He had darkly tanned skin and dressed simply in jeans and a red patterned flannel shirt. A large cowboy hat covered his head. He even had a big belt buckle.

  I settled into the seat. The soft fabric felt wonderfully comfortable after the hard, cold ground that had been my night’s bed. Pete didn’t seem in any hurry to drive despite a lone car honking when it passed. The old cowboy hadn’t completely pulled onto the shoulder.

  “You thirsty?” He popped the top off a thermos. The delicious scent of hot coffee wafted my way. “It’s already sweetened with cream and sugar. Want a cup?”

  I perked up. “Are you sure? Is there enough for you?”

  He poured a cup. “There’s plenty.”

  My fingers curled around the mug. I gulped the coffee. It burned my throat, but I kept swallowing. The wonderfully rich brew filled the clawing hole in my belly.

  Pete finally put the truck into drive and pulled back onto the road. The truck rumbled every time it switched gears.

  “Music too loud?” Pete asked. Soft country music strummed through the speakers.

  I smiled and set my empty coffee cup in the console. “No, it’s fine.”

  “You from these parts?”

  By these parts, I assumed he meant here, in eastern Colorado. Good question. If only I knew. “No. How about you? You grow up around here?”

  “Sure did. Lived just outside Little Raven my whole life, just like my father and his father before him. We’ve been ranchin’ that land since the eighteen hundreds.”

  “That long?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have kids?” I asked.

  “We got three girls. All the girls settled in the state. Fiona married a farmer, and Shelby married another rancher, but Haley, she moved to the city. Denver.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine livin’ in a city that size.”

  I nodded, pretending to understand, even though I had no idea if I’d ever lived in a city or not.

  “Now Val and I,” Pete continued. “She’s my wife. We’ve lived out here our whole lives. Can’t imagine livin’ anywhere different. It’s like what they say about puttin’ down roots. When they grow, it’s hard to pull ‘em up…”

  I fingered my snarled red curls as I listened to the old cowboy. A content feeling washed through me. I liked Pete. He hadn’t commented on my dingy appearance or skeletal figure. That was a first.

  “What ‘bout your family? Any of ‘em live out here?”

  I tensed, sitting straighter. “Oh. Um…”

  A long moment of uncomfortable silence passed before Pete reached into the backseat. “I’ve got sandwiches too. What do ya prefer? Beef or ham?”

  While Pete was rummaging for sandwiches, I turned toward the window and took a deep breath. The sliver of peace and happiness that the cowboy’s kindness and generosity had provoked faded like the sun behind storm clouds. I hated personal questions. They put me in an awkward position and reminded me how scary my life was. The only thing I knew about myself?

  My name. That was it.

  I stared out the window as the landscape flew by. Fields of wheat surrounded us. Their tall tawny stalks rolled in the summer breeze like gentle swells in the ocean. Mountains loomed in the distance, their snowy peaks promising cooler temps to come. I concentrated on the landscape. My breathing still came too fast. Pete hummed along to the music, oblivious to the unease and fear bubbling up inside me, like a geyser that threatened to blow.

  Not knowing my identity, and being reminded of that, brought back that terrifying day in April.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I hated thinking about that day. Hated it.

  Four months ago, I woke up outside on the street in Rapid City, South Dakota. I still remembered that day like yesterday: the cold, hard pavement chilling me through my jeans, the smells of rotting garbage from a nearby dumpster and the absolute panic that made my eyes widen in terror. I had no idea where I was or how I got there. The scariest thing, though, was when I realized I had no memories. None. I didn’t know my age, who I was, where I came from, how I got in that alleyway, nothing. And strangest of all? I had a supernatural ability.

  So that was the beginning of everything. Now, I was trying to figure out what happened to me.

  Luckily, Pete had stopped this morning as I stood alongside the barren county road, my pale skin burning in the hot, unforgiving sun. The desolate road wasn’t an ideal location to find a ride. Unfortunately, the trucker I’d been hitching with last night turned south. My instinct told me to go west. So I got out.

  In the middle of nowhere.

  Not my smartest move, but I hadn’t known what else to do. At least, it had turned out okay. Once again, I was traveling in the right direction. My gut instinct, that steady subtle feeling I’d been following since leaving Rapid City weeks ago, told me to go west righ
t now. So west I went. If only I knew what west was leading to.

  Pete set a sandwich in my hands. The soft feel of bread snapped me back to reality. “Oh, thanks.”

  “Hope ham’s okay.”

  “Yeah.” My mouth watered. Mayonnaise and lettuce accompanied the meat. I took a bite and lost all control. Wolfing it down, I smiled sheepishly when finished. Pete just handed me a second sandwich.

  “Try the beef. Val smokes it herself. It’s darn good.”

  I took a big bite. “Wow, this is fantastic.” I took another bite and said in between chews, “So, tell me more about your ranch.”

  Pete’s eyes lit up. “Well, we got about ninety thousand acres, although some is leased from the National Forest Service. We raise mainly Black Angus…”

  IT WAS LATE afternoon when we approached a small town. A sign declaring Little Raven passed on the right. Large mountains framed the community, their tips covered with snow. My eyes wandered across the buildings. It didn’t appear to be a big town. Maybe a few thousand people.

  “Last stop before my ranch,” Pete said. “Or if you’d rather, you’re welcome to stay with us for a while.”

  Stay at a home? Under a roof? His words were so foreign it took me a moment to process them. For four months, I’d slept outside as I searched for answers to what happened to me.

  “Really?”

  Pete tipped his hat up. “You look like you could use a good night’s rest and some decent food.”

  “That sounds great, although I don’t want to burden–” My breath stopped short when the strangest sensation grew inside me.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Um.” I gripped the door handle tightly. The feeling grew. It felt like someone had banged a tuning fork inside me, the strong vibration demanding my attention. What’s happening?

  We’d almost passed Little Raven, when an abrupt realization came to me. Is this the instinct? That possibility occurred to me just as we pulled onto a county road heading out of town. It made me grow cold.

  “Can you stop?” I blurted.

  Pete slowed and pulled onto the shoulder. I scanned our surroundings. Little Raven was probably a quarter mile behind us already. Distant rooftops shimmered in the sunlight. My eyes darted back and forth. Do I know this place? Have I been here before? Is that why I feel this?

  I unbuckled my seat belt and tentatively opened the door.

  “Lena?”

  I stepped out, closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling. I took a step toward town. The feeling grew exponentially. My breath stopped, and my eyes flew open. That had never happened before.

  I whirled around. “I think I’ll check out Little Raven.”

  Pete propped his arm across the steering wheel. “You sure? My ranch isn’t too far up this road. You could stay with us for the night. Even a couple if ya want. Little Raven’s not goin’ anywhere.”

  Just at the mention of Little Raven, anticipation oozed through me like warm honey. Something was waiting for me there. I could feel it. “Thanks, but I’m going to head into town.”

  “All right, but you come up to our place if you need somethin’.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Pete tipped his hat back into place. “Best of luck to you, Lena, was nice meetin’ ya.”

  “You too, thanks.”

  After I slammed the door, the old diesel rumbled off. I spun on my heels in the direction of town and reached down to grab my backpack. Once it was strapped to my back, I’d be off, striding toward the town center, searching for the cause of this feeling, maybe finding the answers I so desperately sought.

  But my hand only grabbed air.

  There was nothing but dirt and dust around my worn shoes. I twirled in a circle. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Lena, you idiot!”

  Pete was already a half mile away. His rumbling truck headed into a thick forest. I knew exactly where my bag was. Sitting on the floor of the passenger’s seat, right where I’d left it.

  I cupped both of my hands around my mouth. “Pete!”

  Of course, he didn’t hear me. I started running.

  “Pete!” I yelled again. I waved my arms overhead. The old cowboy continued driving. A second later, his truck rounded a turn and disappeared into the forest. I kept running, as if by some miracle I’d eventually catch him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I didn’t catch him. Obviously.

  Of course, that reasonable thought didn’t prevail until I’d been running after him for at least half an hour. By the time I reached that point, I figured I might as well keep going. He said his ranch was up the road. That meant it was close. Right?

  I kept telling myself his ranch was probably around the next bend. Only thing, it’d been at least ten bends now with no sign of it.

  If it was anything but my backpack, I wouldn’t be doing this. But I needed my bag back. It held everything I owned. My cash, clothes, map, water bottle…everything. All of those things would be essential if it took me a few days to understand why the instinct led me to Little Raven.

  However, that wasn’t the real reason I wanted my backpack. That stuff could be replaced, but what I had in the small, zippered front pocket could never be replaced. The irony was that I took it off and put it away to not lose it.

  Typical.

  I kept walking. And walking. The evening passed slowly with no sign of Pete’s. It wasn’t until the sun descended behind a mountain that I began chewing my lip. I pictured the ditch I’d slept in last night. It’d been cool but sheltered. Now? I was at high altitude in the mountains. I stopped in the road. Wind whistled through the trees. Dying sunlight peeked over a mountain. No sign of civilization appeared anywhere.

  Great, Lena. Well done. Nothing like being lost at high altitude with no food or water. Or shelter. Or any idea of where you’re going for that matter.

  I picked up my pace and ignored the searing pain from a blister on my heel that burst wide open. The aggressive pace wasn’t easy, but I kept it up. My dry mouth and sandpaper tongue weren’t helping. My focus kept drifting from finding Pete’s to dreaming of water. At least it kept me from worrying about dying from exposure.

  Yep, great logic, Lena. Instead, you’ll die from dehydration. Much more painful.

  I rounded another bend in the road when a sound reached my ears. Dust swirled around my shoes when I abruptly stopped. I cocked my head and listened. A second ticked past. The sound came again. A faint, distant rumbling. I grinned.

  That only meant one thing.

  I twirled in a circle and tried to decipher from which direction the vehicle came. The rumbling grew louder. Behind me. I turned and searched for the vehicle in the evening twilight. Eventually, I spotted what made the noise. A shiny, new Suburban rounded a hill in the distance. Its headlights pierced the dim light and wove in and out of view as it snaked through the forest.

  Relief poured through me.

  When the Suburban rounded the final turn, I ran into the middle of the road and waved both arms overhead. Thankfully, the vehicle slowed as it neared and ground to a halt about ten yards away. I jogged to the vehicle, but the driver’s door was already opening.

  Dark boots with two-inch heels emerged. I stopped by the hood, tried to calm my breathing and waited for the driver to get out. When she extracted her long limbs, I examined her tall frame. She wore black from head to toe. Black boots, black pants, and a long-sleeved black shirt. Even her hair was black, and from the looks of it, she also had olive skin. Everything about her hinted at a Hispanic or Mediterranean heritage.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Evening,” she replied.

  I reached up to smooth my hair and hoped it wasn’t too wild. That always gave off a bad impression. “Say, you couldn’t give me a ride, could you? I’m trying to find a guy’s ranch, but I don’t know how far it is. I don’t think I’ll find it before dark.”

  She didn’t respond.

  I briefly wondered how I must look through her eyes. I hoped my
lack of deodorant wouldn’t stop her from helping me. It had stopped more than one person in the past. “Um, would you mind?”

  The silence stretched.

  “You’re walking to a guy’s ranch?” she finally said.

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head, her short black hair swaying. Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

  Why? Does it matter? “Well, he gave me a ride, and I left my backpack in his truck. I need to get it back.”

  She cocked her head. “You forgot your bag in some guy’s truck.” She seemed to be saying it more to herself, but I nodded anyway.

  “That’s why you changed course again.”

  Her words were so quiet I barely heard them, if I heard them. What I thought I heard didn’t make any sense. “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” She stood quietly for a moment, still frowning. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, get in the back. We’ll take you to this ranch.”

  For a brief moment, confusion filled me, but I was so grateful all I did was mumble thank you.

  It was only when I reached for the door that I realized I’d broken my cardinal rule. Before she climbed into her seat, I switched my vision. Her cloud readily appeared.

  My mouth fell open. I made my gaze shift back to normal and then switched it again. The same image glowed around her. What the…

  Blue and gold swirled around her shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” She sat in her seat, the door still open as she peered out at me. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a normal twenty-some-year-old woman. However, the cloud that billowed around her spoke otherwise.

  I switched my vision back to normal. “Uh, yes?”

  She quirked an eyebrow and slammed the door. I took a deep breath, my hand still on the door handle. Get in or keep walking? I frowned. It’s not like her cloud seemed bad, just…different, not the white, gray or occasional black I was used to seeing.

  You really want to spend tonight alone in the Rockies with no shelter? I grasped the handle and pulled it open.