Erase and Rewind (Full Book)

Chapter Thirty Seven: Specter

The real world was tipsy.

Noah's eyes flew open and immediately the shed swam out of proportion. The ceiling shimmered whenever rays of sunlight seeped through and the ground tilted that way and that. Yonder the ruined clothes Malik had given him floated, beyond a dark brown cane stood on three legs to support Noah's fragile figure, and even beyond was a tray laden with stale bread and cheese that made his stomach rumble and growl in equal measure.

Like a hatchling, Noah flexed the muscles of his back and trembled at the feel of dried blood and blood clots stretching and cracking, yet his bones were where they should be; he could move.

On wobbly hands and knees, he crawled to the cane and clasped its curved handle to hoist himself up. The sound of his labored breathing filled the unbalanced shed but he soldiered on because there was work to do. Leaning against the tide of the rapidly moving floorboards, he uncovered the hiding spots and their treasures. Out came a box of matches, palm-sized bottles of gasoline, next the Smartwatch which beamed to life at the press of the side button.

"I need help," Noah whispered as he lost his footing and crashed on the floor, the watch safe in his grip.

From memory, or rather from the stories of someone else's memory, the specter headed the call. He was tall with a crown of pitch-black curls and a mischievous grin that deepened his dimples and made him devastatingly handsome.

"Hello Rami," Noah muttered, "How do you do?"

The specter cocked his head to the side and accepted the Smartwatch.

"I plugged in the wifi password," Noah said throat scratchy from screaming. "I know Malik backed up your program here so..."

Rami's ghost understood and set the Smartwatch to infiltrating every bit of available data, sending it to Malik and destroying all traces in its wake. Loading bars would appear to fill up, beep, and start over on the minuscule screen. There was no telling how long the hacking went on, Noah had a rather flimsy grasp how it was working and left it to Rami to manage, and at some point lost consciousness and woke up to find the shed still wavering. The sunrays and their companionable warmth, however, were replaced by a shroud of darkness.

"Sorry," Noah apologized to the ghost and scampered to his feet to rummage in a cardboard box for a clean t-shirt, pair of cotton trousers, and worn loafers.

Staring across the field of green to the main manor, Noah groaned. To get to the forbidden zone, the second story of the manor, he'd have to walk for at least ten minutes without fainting or getting caught.

Mon Cher...

It was impossible to do it alone except he was no longer on his own, he had borrowed power from the people he loved. It had to be enough to see him through. Last night, during the punishment, he thought Carlisle would surely kill him. He stopped within an inch which meant Noah was need for...for the...um...

Think!

Crossing the manor's pristine foyer, the duo huddled under the light of the crystal chandeliers. The soft, busy clangs of pots and pans could be heard in the distance, a rich aroma of meats and chickens wafted from the grand kitchen.

There will be guests, Noah communicated silently to Rami, we've got to hurry.

They took on the challenge of climbing up the gleaming spiral stairs not daring to look over their shoulders. The posh guests, usually adorned in the latest luxury fashion, would spot how poorly dressed the duo were and could alert the lord of the manor to the despondent son. On and on Noah fought the upside-down manor and pressed on, for once grateful for the despised three-legged cane.

Or is it called a tripod?

The cool air cut through Noah's summer clothes, by the time they finally reached the top floor, he was shivering uncontrollably, and Rami had to keep the cane from clattering on the ground. Unfortunately, Noah continued to slip in and out of time, losing seconds and minutes. The digital lock to father's library gave, and his limbs moved to snap and send pictures of shipping documents and a load of incomprehensible legal documents.

"Malik w-w-will know what t-to do." Noah's teeth chattered. "He'll n-never ssstop hurting other..."

Vision dimmed. Elbow hitting a hard surface, so much darkness. It was too hot. No, too cold. Heartbeats hitting a crescendo. Lotta work left...

He opened the caps off bottles and sloshed every nook and cranny of the lush mahogany office, the library, the leather chairs, and the liquor compartment. The stench of gasoline drove Noah into a fit of gags and coughs.

Leaning against the room's door without knowing how he had made it there, Noah's fingers shook as he lit the match remembering full well the agony of flames against his skin.

"What do you think you're doing?" Carlisle glared at his son. Noah hadn't heard him coming up.

"Stopping this," Noah said. "Haven't we caused enough damage? We could start over."

Carlisle twisted his face into a display of rage and hate. "You will not get in my way, boy."

The match's flame was close to singeing Noah's fingers. "No. I didn't think you'd change either,'' he said and tossed the match over his shoulder.

Rami's specter broke into a gentle smile before he disappeared.