Sci-Fi/Fantasy
Date Published: 01-06-2024
Publisher: 44th Morning LLC
Haunted by insurmountable grief, the nearly indestructible Susie Drake temporarily sacrifices all memories of her human friends. Unbeknownst to her, Ren Pith, a semi-immortal plagued by seizures and OCD, snatches her remembrances in pursuit of a time traveler, with the hope of rewriting the past.
Meanwhile, recruited by the grandchildren of her forgotten friends, Susie confronts a murder investigation intertwined with her purloined past and teams up with a private eye to unravel a perplexing link between her stolen recollections and a man who taunted her nearly a century prior. Racing against the possibility of total memory loss, Susie and the detective navigate time and space to follow a lead and venture into the future of an alternate Earth.
Susie’s quest intertwines self-discovery, justice, and a high-stakes race into a tangled web bridging past, present, and parallel worlds.
Chapter 1: Misty Susie’s Detached Memories
August 17, 2050
Midnight in a cemetery on the outskirts of Tucson.
“ALL THESE DEAD PEOPLE,” SUSIE said to no one. “I didn’t kill any of them.” Flashlight in hand, she aimed the beam toward one of the graveyard’s older sections. “Scratch that. I see three headstones for guys I murdered. Hmm. I thought the caporegime had them buried in Phoenix. In fact … I know I have three dead guys there. Just not the same fellows.”
Soon, the illumination carried across a tombstone bearing a more recent date. “Sacha Fitzpatrick Ahern. The last of my Earthling friends. Gone at ninety-one years of age. You lived a long, full life. Why’d you have to leave me?”
Did she expect an answer? There wasn’t any other human around, living or deceased. Trilling insects, yes, and maybe a fox or coyote.
During the act of transferring the lantern from one hand to the other, the light weaved over something which made her perform a double-take. She held the torch firmly by the handle, scoffing as it poured across the anthropomorphic form.
“A full-sized granite angel. Wings, too. Nice.” Spotting a bronze bench located in front of the statue, she eased down upon it. “Me in the presence of a carved occupant of heaven. Who’d’ve thunk it? Let me introduce myself. Oh, yeah, I do talk to myself and inanimate objects a lot. More than I do people.” She quickly patted the figure’s forever-praying hands. “Are you asking something from God or me? Ha! Not a lot I can give you. How about a fast rundown of who I am? Good, because it’s all I got time for.
“I’m Susie Drake. I was born in 1902. Yep, I’m one hundred and forty-eight years old, and I don’t look much older than twenty-one. My parents had powers. I inherited some myself. Besides being almost immortal, I’m practically impervious to harm, can manipulate people’s will and memories by touching them, run short distances very fast, and am very strong. My pops was a nutcase. He killed my mom and almost done me in. In the aftermath, I had memory problems for a long time.
“What does someone with a face compared to a long-ago actresses do for a living? Model? Act? Not I! Assassin! It became my profession for half a decade or so before I met some people whose kind ways changed me. This led to my working for the government, doing greater good stuff.
“Later, I wander into a war between my friends and an army of alien wizards. It’s a battle unknown by ninety-nine percent of the world at the time—the 1970s. Not long after the fighting ended, I became a soldier of fortune. Many times, I used my strength and speed to save people, tampering with their recall, as I don’t want publicity. Make that … didn’t want publicity.”
Drake directed a shimmer at Ahern’s resting spot. “My late friend testified before Congress about the secret war after being the first to publish a book on the subject. The Joint Chiefs reluctantly backed her story, and then all hell broke loose. Uh, sorry, all heck broke loose. By then, all but a few of my friends’ children survived, except for some exceptional off-world pals and myself. The press hounded me, made me a superstar. Poor me, yeah.
“Tiring of the attention, I traveled incognito into most every country before receiving an invite from Sacha. She and her hubby have a guesthouse, and would I like to stay? Indeed, I did for seven years … until she passed six months after him.”
Rising, she paced the ground between her and the sculpture. “What do I do now? On her deathbed, Sacha recited the same ol’ lecture. Make new friends. Understanding others, she insisted, will make me understand myself better. Sweet old gal she was, but I already know me as best as I ever will. I. Don’t. Make. New. Friends. Very. Well. Too much trouble.” Susie halted, moving her face close to the stone object. “You’re stuck in mid-prayer. Pray me an answer. I need one.”
Drake scanned the night sky. A shooting star streaked diagonally before burning out above the angel’s head. Rather than admit grief overwhelmed her, Susie interpreted the meteor’s movement as a sign.
Nose to nose with the stone spirit, she attempted communication. “You got an answer to the prayer, didn’t cha? Tell me. What do I do now?”
Silence … until something clicks.
“E’tatanya! Of course. She’s an Exile. I’ve been in exile from living for years. I know another Exile whose name is Angel. It all fits!”
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