Born of Shadow - Book 1 (complete)

Chapter 33

What's on that slip of paper Yasmin is reading? As always I appreciate your votes and comments!

If you are enjoying this story and want to know when the latest chapter is up, follow me on Wattpad. I update Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays!

_________________

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kami said as she looked at the name and address scrawled on the paper. Jemal Ibrahim. “How do we know we can trust the name she gave us? This Ibrahim guy could be a trap. We could end up in a room full of shadow creatures, or worse.”

“What choice do we have?” Yasmin argued. “It's our only lead.”

Kami sighed.

“Chris, what do you think?” she asked.

“I already probed her face. She’s clean.”

“Probed her face?” Kami laughed. “Listen to you. Sounds like alien stuff.”

Chris flushed, and she could tell her comments unintentionally embarrassed him. She moved on quickly so as to not embarrass him more.

“Even if she’s not infected, she could still be working for them,” she said.

“But it is the only thing we have to go on. Come on Kami, I feel like this is important. We will be careful,” Yasmin said.

Yasmin was right. The risk was there, but the longer her grandparents were missing, the less likely it was that they would find them alive.

“So we give it a try?” Yasmin asked.

The others nodded, and Yasmin handed Haji the address.

“I’m really curious how it works, Chris,” Liam said as Haji started the engine. “Earlier when you were describing your ability, it seems like you discovered it by accident. But now, you can just what, force it?”

“Force isn’t a very good word,” Chris said. “I have to concentrate on the person’s face and relax my mind until it focuses, then it’s easy. I find that I do it subconsciously all the time now. Take those police officers at Hamin. I wasn’t checking them on purpose, but I could see it anyway.”

“Well, however you do it, I think it’s brilliant,” Liam said. “I need you to come to my house because I swear my sister is possessed. That would explain so much.”

“Chris, are you sure you’ve checked Liam out carefully?” Kami teased. “Because sometimes I wonder.”

Chris glanced over at Liam and smiled at Kami.

“Nah, he's good.”

“Thanks, Kami!” Liam said with a mock pout. “Always suspicious.”

Kami couldn't help but grin. If they could joke about this, surely they were in a good place. She hoped their little fight was behind them.

Yasmin watched their little interaction with a smile playing on her lips. When the boys weren’t looking, Yasmin mouthed, You like him. Kami rolled her eyes. It's not like it mattered. Liam was leaving soon anyway. He was only still here because he had been dying to see the Alexander exhibit. Then again, they had already been to the library.

He could have left once Haji had rejoined them, but he had stayed. Why?

Haji parked in front of a worn down concrete apartment complex with boarded over windows and large portions of the wall flaking off. Kami braced herself against the heat wave that hit her as she stepped out of the car. What she hadn’t prepared herself for was the odor. Piles of garbage were strewn about the street. Kami’s stomach recoiled at the stench.

It wasn’t a fit place for anyone to live, yet clearly there were many who did, men  with hard, emaciated faces and worn out clothes. Two doors down a beggar with a lame foot sat with her little cup. She stared at them curiously, and Kami tried not to stare back. The forgotten ones lived here.

They climbed a row of stairs and came to an iron door with green paint flaking off. They knocked on the door and waited. And waited.

“Maybe no one’s home,” Liam suggested.

“No,” Yasmin said. “We have come this far. We are not leaving without answers.”

She pounded the door again, and at last she was rewarded by the sound of locks being turned. A harried looking woman with dark rings under her eyes opened it. Yasmin asked her something in Arabic. The woman shook her head and started to close the door.

“Wait,” Yasmin said loudly in Arabic, holding up the paper as Liam translated into Kami’s ear. “The woman at the laboratory gave me this address and told me to speak with Jemal Ibrahim. I am Ahmed Hassri’s granddaughter. I need to know what happened to him.”

Just as the door was about to click shut, they heard a muffled male voice say something in Arabic. The door paused, then reopened.

“Come in,” the woman said. She didn’t look very happy to let them in.

Kami looked at Chris, sending a silent message asking if the woman was possessed. He nodded encouragingly as if to indicate it was okay, and she felt Liam’s hand at the small of her back urging her to enter. She followed, the boys coming behind her.

The small room was dim, with the sun filtering through the thin drawn curtain. The floor was bare except for one chair, a small prayer rug, a lit candle, and a laptop. A wiry man wearing brown trousers, a linen shirt, and sunglasses occupied the chair. The others stood awkwardly, as there was nowhere else to sit. As Kami’s eyes adjusted, she noticed the floor was swept clean.

Jemal nodded slightly. He said something in Arabic, and Yasmin answered him rapidly in their native tongue. Kami looked to Liam for help.

“He wants to know why we’re here. Yasmin’s explaining who she is, and her connection to your grandparents and the jar fragment,” he whispered.

Jemal began speaking in Arabic again.

“I apologize for interrupting,” Liam said. “But do you speak English? Some of us can’t understand you otherwise.”

Kami knew Liam had made the request for her sake, but she almost wished he hadn't. It had been rather convenient that Liam's mouth had to be so close to her ear to translate.

“Yes,” Jemal replied in lilted English. He kept turning his head toward a window covered with a flimsy curtain. He seemed distracted, agitated about something, like he was watching for someone, or something, to pounce.

“You have to promise not to reveal what I tell you,” Jemal said. “I am not permitted to speak of it. I only tell you because of my respect for Ahmed Hassri, and he needs to be aware. I have tried to contact him, but he has not returned my calls.”

Kami opened her mouth to say that her grandfather had gone missing, but just as she did so, Yasmin frowned at her and shook her head. Kami snapped her mouth shut.

“What was your message?” Yasmin asked.

“A warning,” Jemal said cryptically.

“Well?”

Jemal was fidgety and sweating profusely. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his neck and face. Kami wondered what was up with wearing the funky sunglasses indoors, especially since it was already fairly dark inside.

“I was one of the researchers assigned to work with the jar fragment your grandfather found at the excavation site. When the piece first arrived at our lab, we were naturally very curious about the nature of its properties. It was unlike anything any of us had ever seen. We quickly determined it was not radioactive, as those who brought it to us had assumed. But figuring out what power it possessed, well, that was the challenge. We didn’t know if the fragment was dangerous, so we were only allowed to examine it under glass or while wearing hazmat suits.

“One night, one of my colleagues was working late. Alone. He said he felt a stirring, as if he was being drawn to the jar. He said he felt compelled by an overwhelming desire to remove the protective glove covering his left hand, well, not a hand really. He had lost his hand in a factory accident as a young man. All that was left was a stump. He said he felt like he was in a trance, as if he had no power to control this desire. So he slipped off the glove, leaving the stump exposed.

“As he stretched his damaged arm over the jar fragment, he felt a warm tingling spread through it. Then he experienced a joy so intense, so blissful that he closed his eyes to savor the feeling. When he opened his eyes, to his astonishment, a hand appeared where there had been none. It was a miracle!

“The next morning he showed us his healed hand. As you can imagine, we were shocked and amazed. He insisted we should use the jar piece as a holy relic, to allow people access to it so they too could be healed. But others on our team were concerned. We still knew nothing about the properties of the jar, or its short or long-term effects. In the end, caution won, and we decided to continue with our studies, testing the effects on lab mice.”

Jemal coughed violently, then wiped his mouth. He continued.

“But his enthusiasm affected me, and I found myself beginning to obsess over the jar. Egypt is a poor country. Many struggle for the basics: food, clothes, education, and medicine. Some never climb out of poverty’s rank because medical problems strip them of their independence. I understood this too well. Since I was a child, I have been legally blind. Because of my particular eye condition, the glasses I require to correct my vision are very expensive. I was told by my doctor that eye surgery would fix my condition, but I could never afford such an expensive procedure.”

“But the jar, this jar could be the key,” Samuel interrupted.

Jemal nodded. “If my eyes could be healed, it would be more proof that the jar worked, and perhaps speed up the process to allow others to be healed. I had often wondered what it would be like to wake up and be able to instantly see the world clearly. What seemed like an impossible dream would become a reality!

“So one night after everyone had gone home for the evening, I crept back into the lab and unlocked the door. I had pushed aside all fears and cautions of the risk involved. I knew I would be healed. I donned my suit, though I thought it probably a foolish and unnecessary step. This time, I didn’t bother with my headgear. I made my way into the restricted area to the jar. There it lay, this jagged piece of clay no bigger than the size of my palm. How strange to think of the power it was capable of. In hindsight we never should have allowed our faith to be based on an object, holy or otherwise. I removed the jar piece and stood over it, eyes focused intently, willing it to work.”

Jemal coughed again.

“My throat is parched,” he said. “Would anyone like a drink?”

They shook their heads, each dismayed at the interruption of his engrossing story. Jemal picked up a bottle of water. He tipped his head back and guzzled the beverage as if it were his last. He mopped his face and neck with his handkerchief again.

Kami could see Yasmin squirming, her impatience battling with a desire to be polite. Fortunately, Jemal picked up the story again.

“Where was I?”

“Standing over jar,” Liam prompted.

“Nothing happened.”

“What?” Yasmin breathed.

“Nothing at first. But then I felt something, the tingling sensation my friend had described. The feelings grew stronger and stronger, but something was off. It felt all wrong. Where there should have been warmth, there was cold. Instead of joy, I felt an overwhelming depression and terror. The jar fragment began to vibrate and glow, and then I felt the heat.”

Jemal trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

Then without warning he spoke loudly, causing the others to jump. “It seared into my eyes with such an intense pain I couldn’t stand it, and I passed out. The next morning when I woke up, I was completely blind. The others understood the instant they saw me. The experiment had failed. They brought me over here. I am under strict orders not to see any one, not even my wife and children. If they knew you were here—but I am afraid the government will hide what happened to me, pretend like it never happened. I do not think they can be trusted. If they do that, more people will be hurt. There are other shards out there in other labs. The people working with the jar must be warned. Will you find a way to warn them?”

“We will do what we can,” Yasmin said.

“That jar, it is pure evil. I told them every piece should be tracked down and destroyed, but they would not listen to me. They’ve just locked it up, waiting for its next unsuspecting victim. These powers were not meant to be handled by man.”

“Can I, can we,” Chris fumbled, “see what it did to you?”

Jemal unclasped his fingers and lifted his sunglasses. Kami couldn’t stifle her gasp. There, where his eyes should be, were two deep, charred craters staring back.

Yikes! If you find this incredibly creepy, please click the star and vote. If you think this is cool, you're strange, but go ahead and click the star anyway.

Thoughts on this chapter?

Today's dedication goes out to a fabulous reader and Wattpad buddy @applesareawesome1800! She has been following BoS for a very long time and I always love reading her comments because I never know what to expect. I have also been reading her story The Winter Fae and really enjoy it. Well she just did the coolest thing. She just made a banner for Born of Shadow! So I put it in my Pinterest and will link it below if you want to check it out!