The Turned Read online

  The Turned

  Tracy Kiser

  (2012)

  * * *

  Rating: ★★★★☆

  As Lana Winters begins a journey to save her father, a world renowned marine biologist, she discovers a part of the world kept hidden from humans. To save her life, someone from that hidden realm makes her a member of The Turned and Lana's journey is sidetracked. Now Lana is up against the entire ocean where being a member of The Turned is forbidden and the consequence is death. With the fear of being discovered, Lana is determined to find her father and return home but there are unseen evils threatening to destroy her.

  The Turned

  The Turned

  Tracy Kiser

  Dedication:

  Thank you to those who helped make this novel a reality: Caira, Tyler, Craig and Cortney. Your questions, ideas, and the endless nights of discussion (fueled by coffee) pushed me to keep writing.

  Notice to the Reader:.

  Copyright © by Tracy Kiser

  Cover Art © by Tracy Kiser

  By purchasing this ebook you are stating that you are fully aware that you will be sent the ebook or download link via email and that this purchase is NOT refundable. Legally, you can save one copy of the purchased ebook to disk for your own personal use. However, it is illegal to distribute your copy to those who did not pay for it. You may not distribute the ebook to other individuals by using email, floppy discs, zip files, burning them to CD/DVD, selling them on any type of auction website, making them available for free public viewing or download on any website, offering them to the general public offline in any way, or any other method currently known or yet to be invented. You may not print copies of your downloaded book and distribute those copies to other persons. Doing any of these things is a violation of international copyright law and would subject you to possible fines or imprisonment. Violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  Prologue

  Lana hit the glassy black surface of the water and all of the air was forced from her lungs. Lightening illuminated the thunderclouds rolling ominously toward her. Her hand clawed the threatening waves and the salt burned against her throat. The edges of her vision blurred. Lana saw an ocean stretched out around her through a dark tunnel. Ice grazed her arms and a pale blue light came out of the darkness. Then the black stole her away.

  Chapter 1

  Lana poured a glass of orange juice as her dog, Darling, whimpered at her feet. She took a sip, feeling the cool liquid slide down her throat. Setting the cup on the granite kitchen counter top, Lana headed to the foyer with Darling following close behind.

  The morning sun filtered in through the glass panes of the oak front door, warming the wood beneath her feet. When Lana opened the door, Darling eagerly squeezed out. Stepping out onto the porch, the rays welcomed Lana while the rough wood tickled the soles of her feet. Her squinted eyes followed Darling to a box wrapped in brown paper that was leaning against the porch steps.

  Darling paused to sniff the corner of the package before prancing to the yard. Lana tiptoed over and retrieved the box. She turned it over for examination but found only her address listed.

  “Is this for me?” Lana whispered to herself. An odd sensation crawled up her spine leaving her mind to toy with ideas of what might be hidden inside.

  Darling climbed the steps and licked Lana’s toes. Carrying the package, Lana went back inside with Darling still following her.

  In the kitchen, Lana placed the box on the counter and began to unwrap it. With the paper peeled away, a dingy white shoebox sat on the counter. Lifting the lid, Lana found a book covered in dust and smelling of mildew. Using her shirt sleeve, she wiped off the cover to find the initials “T.W.” in the bottom right hand corner.

  Lana opened to the first page and the color drained from her face. There it was: the name Thomas Winters, written in nearly illegible scrawl. Lana’s mind whirled and the book slipped from her hands, dropping to the floor. Could this really be happening?

  “Honey, what is it?” Lana looked up to find her mother staring at her. “Honey, are you okay? Your face is flushed.” Her mother’s voice held an undertone of worry. Sarah was standing; her bare feet on the linoleum, dressed in blue jeans and a white flowing top.

  “The book… it’s Dad’s,” Lana managed, trying to keep control over her breathing. In, out. In, out. Lana felt her heart speed up instantaneously. It was like someone had just thrown her over a cliff. She saw the bottom but didn’t realize what would happen when she hit.

  Her mother sighed, “Lana, your dad’s gone.” Lana snapped her head up to look at her mother, the morning light bounced off of her radiant dirty-blonde hair.

  “No, look.” She pointed to the book lying upside down on the floor. The thought of grabbing it and double checking raced through her mind, but she couldn’t move. The fear of falling was too great.

  Her mother picked up the leather bound book and opened the front cover. A waft of wet mold hit her nostrils. Her eyes shot up to meet Lana’s. “This isn’t funny.” Lana saw the worry and disbelief flood her mother’s eyes. Her gaze swam, unsure of the current.

  “It came in the mail.” Lana tried to sound convincing, although she felt just as confused as her mother probably was.

  “Well, whoever did this is sick. Ten years isn’t long enough to make this kind of morbid humor acceptable.” Sarah shut the book, her nose still scrunched inhumanely at the smell the book emitted.

  “What if it’s really his?” Lana let the thought slip out in a hushed tone. Was it impossible to think that this old smelly leather book had once belonged to her father?

  “No, there’s no way,” Sarah shook her head. “We’ve gone through enough of this.” The book dropped into the trashcan at the end of the counter with a soft thud. Lana watched the lid tilt back and forth.

  “Now,” her mother smiled, ignoring the tug of hope at the base of her neck. The look of fear had disappeared from her green eyes. “Happy eighteenth birthday, Darling.” The dog barked as Sarah planted a kiss on Lana’s forehead.

  * *

  Traces of tears lined the face of Lana’s mother, while more waited to fall. White paths streaked Sarah’s red cheeks like outlined scars. Lana stood, poised in the doorway of the den with her nightgown still on and sleep in her eyes.

  Her mother sat bent over the couch, one elbow resting on her knee, and her hand holding up her head. She loosely held a letter in the opposite. Lana was afraid. She had never seen her mother cry before. This image would stay with Lana for the rest of her life, the letter causing the scars that would disappear but still ache every day.

  “Mommy, what’s wrong?” Lana held on to each side of the door frame. She felt the smooth wood underneath her tiny fingers. Gripping the frame tightly she shifted her weight, waiting for her mother to answer.

  Her mother looked up at Lana, gravity drawing more tears down. “Baby, come over and sit on Mommy’s lap.” Sarah patted her legs and Lana released her hold on the door frame.

  Lana rushed over and plopped down on her mother’s legs. Sarah’s arm came up and wrapped around her daughter, the only person that she had left in the world.

  “Mommy, why are you crying?” Lana lifted her hand and wiped the salty tears away from her mother’s flushed cheek.

  Sarah faltered. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not to her family. “Oh, Honey, it’s about your daddy,” she somehow managed to whisper, afraid to say the words louder.

  “Something happened to Daddy?” Lana’s innocent voice washed over Sarah’s face, gravity not the only thing causing the tears to fall. How was she supposed to tell her eight year old daughter what had happened?

  Her mother nodded, lifting her hand to wipe away more tears. A futuristic visi
on rushed through her mind. Sarah and Thomas sitting on their back patio, Lana grown up with kids of her own, the sound of children playing, her hand holding her husband’s, smiles on both of their faces…

  “Something…bad, Mommy?” Lana sensed what was coming.

  “Yes, Sweetheart,” her mother said through chattering teeth. “Something bad.”

  Lana pictured her dad standing on the pier down by the water, his brown hair jutting out from his baseball cap, smiling like he was the happiest man on earth. Her eyes watered at the thought of something bad happening to one of the most important people in her life.

  “Where is he? Where’s Daddy?” Lana’s small voice rose, nearing a shout. Her hands moved to her mother’s face, they met eye to eye. Lana saw the green rings with gold flecks swimming behind tears yet to fall.

  “He’s lost, Honey. His boat was lost.” Sarah said with strength she didn’t feel. She had to remember that Lana would be counting on her. She had to stay strong for the both of them. Sarah felt like lying in bed until Thomas came home. If she prayed hard enough would he find his way back to her?

  “But Daddy’s the best sailor in the whole world,” Lana argued. Tears streamed down in parallel lines. Her cheeks were identical to her mother’s, immediately flushed and turning red.

  “That doesn’t mean he can’t get lost,” Sarah tried to explain. How could she say it so an eight year old would understand? She felt her heart break as she stared into the eyes of her daughter. Would she ever see her father again? How could this have happened to their happy family?

  “Mommy, find him! I want him to come home,” Lana’s voice yelled, slightly echoing through the den. Her hands turned into little fists as she pounded on her mother’s chest, the anger of her dad being lost at sea crashing onto her shoulders. The tears poured down Lana’s cheeks now. Lana closed her eyes while her surroundings sloshed around her. She felt her mother’s arms tighten and pull her close. Lana collapsed into heaving sobs matching the beat of her mother’s heart.

  * *

  “So the party starts at seven. What time do you think your friends will be here?” Sarah struggled to keep her voice even. The torment from the package nagged at her throat. She forced herself to swallow.

  “Mom, seriously, what if that book is really his?” Lana’s voice held a hint of excitement. She dared to hope that someway, somehow, this book actually came from her father. Maybe he was trying to reach her, to tell her…

  “Lana, stop it,” Sarah demanded. Her voice was thick with choking tears. She felt the nerves throughout her entire body shake her to the core.

  “No, Mom, you stop it. You just throw that book away like it’s nothing?” Lana pointed at the trashcan. The lid had stopped moving, as if nothing had been thrown away, as if the book had never came at all.

  Lana’s mother shrugged her shoulders, her head slightly lower and her gaze on the floor. Nausea threatened her stomach, was she falling? Sarah reached out and put one hand on the counter to steady herself. “I can’t do this again. We spent five years looking for him. You expect me to want to build my hopes up so they can all come crashing down again?” Her voice broke on the last two words.

  “But, Mom, we can’t give up,” Lana argued, knowing that she was grasping for a flicker of hope that her mom wouldn’t allow to show.

  “This isn’t giving up. It’s accepting what has happened.” Lana heard the dry tone of her mother’s voice, scratchy with memories of what might have been.

  “What if he’s alive?” Lana’s eyes pleaded with her mother. Her face showed hope and faith, things that had betrayed Sarah in the past.

  “He’s gone, Lana,” Sarah whispered, speaking to herself more than her daughter. How many times do I tell myself this every day? Sarah wondered.

  “What if he isn’t?” Lana dared to challenge her mother’s ‘acceptance,’ fighting the feeling of finality that drifted from Sarah to Lana.

  Her mother took in a sharp breath. “Lana. Damn it, stop.”

  “Wouldn’t it all be worth it if he’s alive out there, somewhere? It would to me, Mom.” Lana paused, waiting for a reaction from her mother, hoping that Sarah would believe too. “Maybe that book can tell us where.”

  Anger filled her mother’s eyes. “That’s enough young lady.” Lana froze with worry. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her mother this angry. “Now up to your room. You need to get ready to go.” Lana heard her mother’s voice break yet again and knew that she was rebelling against the threatening tears. Her voice turned into a whisper. “We have to go pick up your cake. And not another word about that damn book.”

  Lana turned out of the kitchen. She couldn’t believe her mother was acting like this. That had to be her father’s book. She had half expected her mother to jump with joy at the discovery. She definitely hadn’t expected her mother to become angry at the unexpected delivery. On the staircase, Lana went up three steps and waited. Her mother sighed. Lana heard her sniffle.

  “God, I can’t do this again,” her mother whispered to the empty kitchen. Lana heard muffled footsteps moving away from her. The downstairs bathroom door clicked shut.

  Lana tiptoed down the stairs and back into the kitchen. She didn’t want to upset her mother by bringing up bad memories, but Lana had to know what was written in those pages. If it told where her father had been going then maybe he could still be found. It’s worth a shot, even if Mom doesn’t think so.

  She moved the lid of the trashcan and reached in. With half of her arm buried in trash, her fingertips found the leather. Lana silently lifted the book out.

  The book was held tight to Lana’s chest as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. The pungent smell of wet and moldy paper forced her to turn her head to the side, away from the book. She immediately shut the door to her room and turned the lock. The book had to be hidden. If her mother found it in here then it would definitely be thrown away, and Lana would never have the chance to find out what secrets lay in her dad’s handwriting.

  Lana stood beside her bed feeling the leather, soft and warm beneath her fingertips. She slid them across the bottom corner, outlining her father’s initials. Lana pulled back the quilt from her bed to slide the book between the mattress and the box spring. She then adjusted the quilt back down, smoothing out the coverlet.

  Downstairs, her mother came out of the bathroom, using a tissue to blot her eyes. She felt a glimmer of hope, but hurriedly pushed it from her mind. She looked down at her tear drops outlined on the white fabric of her shirt. She picked an imaginary piece of lent off of the chemise. Making her way from the kitchen, she didn’t notice the lid of the trashcan gently rocking back and forth, as she went upstairs to her bedroom.

  Chapter 2

  Lana sat on the edge of the wooden pier staring out across the water. Her feet dangled off as she swung them lazily. The cool ocean breeze was gentle and sent her dirty blonde hair into motion. The caress was that of mother to child and the breeze washed Lana in its love.

  “Hey, kiddo’, you gonna’ come aboard?” Thomas asked his daughter cheerily. The small creases around his mouth more evident as he smiled.

  Lana turned her head towards her father, standing on his sailboat. The large boat loomed in front of her painted blue with bleached sails curled tightly around their masts. He held onto a line with one hand, leaning out to the pier with his other hand outstretched, gesturing to his daughter.

  Pulling her legs up, away from the water, Lana pushed herself up with her hands. She stood and reached for her father. He gripped her small hand and lifted her aboard with ease. She walked over and sat down, Indian style, by the center mast.

  “You going sailing today, Daddy?” Lana fought the gentle wind as she carefully moved her hair from her face, tucking it safely behind her ears.

  “Maybe. The wind feels nice and gentle, but your mom would kill me if I missed another family dinner,” he chuckled. His thoughts going to his beautiful wife at home in the kitchen, preparing salmon cakes for their e
vening meal.

  “No she wouldn’t, Daddy. Mommy loves you.” Lana’s small voice carried on the wind and kissed her father’s ears bringing a larger smile to his sun tanned face.

  “I know kiddo’. But you know how your mom is about eating as a family.” Thomas wouldn’t dare miss a home cooked meal, especially if Sarah was cooking it. Her skills in the kitchen could easily be those of a world-renowned chef, but perhaps Thomas was more than a little biased.

  “Well, when I grow up, I’m gonna’ sail every day.” Lana turned her head and stared out across the ocean to the horizon. The sun had begun its descent and cast a light pink glow over the water. Lana imagined herself sailing around the world, right beside her father.

  Her dad smiled and sat down next to her. “Is that right?” He questioned with enthusiasm, happy that his daughter thought of taking after him in the world of career choices.

  “Sure is, Daddy. I’m gonna’ sail around the whole world and talk to dolphins, just like you.” The image of dolphins dancing on top of the water while Lana swam with them side by side floated into Thomas’ head.

  He laughed, “Oh yea?” The picture was enchanting. He often found himself dreaming of all that Lana could do when she was older: his little pride and joy, manning a sail and dancing with dolphins.

  “Yep. I wanna’ be a… what do you call it Daddy?” Her face held confusion and deep thinking. Thomas internally laughed at the strife his seven year old daughter had with technical titles.

  “Marine biologist?” Thomas offered, mentally daring her to repeat it. Remembering how she would say it when she was even younger. The words echoed in his head, ‘mamine biowojist’.

  “Uh-huh. That.” Lana avoided repeating it, knowing that it wouldn’t sound the same, yet her face still tilted into a smile at the title she hoped to have one day.