Wire Crossing (Sequel to Crossing Time)

Chapter One

The small meter flashed red as Jeremy held it up near the chandelier’s wire casing.  The row of bulbs that crossed the head of the machine blazed in the darkness, burning a line of white behind his eyes.  He blinked, exhausted and bored.  It was nearly four o’ clock in the morning, and the team hadn’t found anything the least bit remarkable.  

Still, he had to soldier on—even though the last few house calls his team had made were nothing that the local exterminators and electricians couldn’t handle.  This one was no different, and so far he’d found nothing but rats and shoddy appliances.   If the clients were to be believed, in every old house there lurked a couple of poltergeists, a lady in white, or some other spiritual entity that doesn’t seem to want to go away.  Jeremy blamed the advent of paranormal investigator television shows for the sudden upsurge in supernatural misdiagnoses.

He did, however, have to concede that the fad was good for his bank account.

                A flashlight beam swung down the hall, followed by a familiar voice called Jeremy’s attention from the top of the ladder.  “It’s nearly time for wrap up, and we’ve got nothing evident in the bedrooms.”

                “Negative here, too,” Jeremy sighed, clicking off the recorder and shoving it in his pocket. “They are probably all getting headaches from the bad wiring in the dining room.  The electromagnetic waves coming off this chandelier are getting to me already, and the K2 confirms.”

                “Danny’s already packing up the base, and we’ve got to meet with the new tech analyst at noon tomorrow.”

                “Tomorrow?”

                Jeremy studied his friend’s face as the other man stepped into the light.  He picked up right away on the stubborn set of his brows, barely showing beneath the mop of dark, curly hair, and knew it would probably do no good to argue.  Worse still, he knew that Milo was right.

                Milo didn’t say anything, just turned and shuffled back out of the doorway. Switching off the recorder, Jeremy climbed down the ladder and hustled after him.

                “What do you mean, tomorrow? We don’t need to hire a new tech just yet.”

                Milo stopped and faced him, and even though it was dark in that part of the house, Jeremy could feel his friend’s sadness and pity.  “It’s been a year now, mate.  I can’t handle all of the extra work.  Nat was—“

                Jeremy cut him off with a wave.   Hearing his sister’s name, the familiar surge of grief welled up into his throat, painful and constricting.  He swallowed hard to force it back down.  “You said noon tomorrow?”

                “At the pub.”

                “I’ll be there.”

They packed up the rest of their gear in silence, and the night was over.

                She heard the door open and shut, so she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.  It was cold in the apartment, but the couch was comfortable and the blanket cozy. Rubbing the fabric between her fingers, she marveled at the tight weave and the incredible softness, and the strange words—Jeremy had yet to explain “Star Wars”—that were embroidered throughout. There were so many wonderful things here that even the wealthiest people she had known in her first lifetime would never have dreamed of, and here they all were at her disposal.  Jeremy half-heartedly smiled at her, shaking his head slightly as he dropped his black bag next to the door.  He thought it was silly of her to stay out in the living room when he was away on a job, but it meant she would know the moment he came home.

                Home.  Ameline was finally calling it that, and the word felt right.  It had been difficult and terribly odd at first—the room that was now hers had previously belonged to Natalie, the sister that Jeremy mourned every day.  Whatever Jeremy said to comfort her, Ameline had for the longest time felt like she was walking on eggshells whenever he was around.  So many things reminded him of her, and he would grow moody and dark within moments.  Sometimes, when he looked at Ameline, she could tell that he was thinking of his sister. 

                Still, it was better than the alternative.  Here she was, another chance at life, and she was bemoaning it all over the mercurial nature of one man.  That man had saved her, of course, and at terrible cost to himself.  Perhaps she was projecting her own guilt onto him, but it was difficult to focus on such things for long.  It was much less painful to be grateful for the gifts she had been given than to dwell on what had been lost. 

                “How did it go?” She asked.  It was becoming ever easier to read his moods, and it was not hard to discern that Jeremy was not in a good one.  His eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep, and the stubborn set of his mouth hinted that he would prefer not to discuss it.  Ameline smiled, hoping he would let her in on the night’s details.  “Did you find anything of interest?”

                “No, not tonight,” he said, tossing his hat onto the desk in the corner.  Her heart leapt as he walked over and sat next to her on the couch.  “Just another bunch of idiots who don’t want to fix their wiring or admit that some old houses creak in the night.”

                “Oh, I see,” Ameline said, trying to remember what “wiring” was. 

                Jeremy shivered, and Ameline passed over an edge of the blanket.  He muttered his thanks, and it struck her once again how odd this life was. She would never have dreamed, in her old life, of sharing a blanket and living with a man that she was not related nor married to.  However, in this new world, it seemed to be a relatively unremarkable occurrence.

                “Why is it so cold in here?” he asked, and Ameline could feel the mockery building behind tired eyes.  “Did you forget how to turn on the heater?” 

                She sulked, crossing her arms across her chest.  In truth, she had forgotten how to turn on the heater, but she would never admit it.  Nor would she admit that she was terrified of the noise it made. “No, I know how to use it.  I simply did not realize it was quite so cold.”

                Jeremy laughed and stood, tucking the blanket around her shoulders.  Crossing the room, he flicked a couple of levers on a small box she recognized at the “thermostat”.  Instantly, the low, dreadful hiss whispered in the walls.   The warm air coming in through the vents nearly made up for it. 

                “There.  We can see our breath in here.”

                “I quite like being able to see my breath.”

                “I could turn it off, if you like.”

                “No, that is quite alright.  Thank you,” Ameline said as she stood, draping the “Star Wars” blanket around her shoulders.  She always felt a bit exposed when she wore pants like a man, even though the sleep version she was currently wearing was most effeminately designed.  It had been hinted that white and pink flowers were not a common print for men’s trousers, but she still struggled to believe it.

                “Ameline, I—“ Jeremy turned and looked uncomfortable for a moment.  She blushed, tightening the blanket around her shoulders. “I—hope you sleep well.”

                She smiled, and turned in to her room.

                Strange as it was, such was her new life.