Chapter One
It blasted him like a sucker punch. Sam wasn’t sure where the pain came from, but the burning sensation radiated from his temples all the way down to his ankles. His body was immobilized and seized by a flash of fire. The wind rushed out of him. He dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor. He clamped his eyes shut, not daring to open them.
Son of a... What is this pain?! Oh my God! My head… Is it a stroke? Can’t breathe… Heart attack? Why won’t it stop? What’s wrong with me?
Then it left, as quickly as it came. The flash of torture disappeared. Sam sat on the cool tile and raked shaking fingers through his short, sandy blond hair.
What just happened?
The burning, still fresh in his memory, made him wish someone was home. His mother would be home soon, or he could call his dad at work. But Sam didn’t want to worry either of them. Especially since now everything seemed normal again.
Well, almost normal. He shook his head and realized that there was something new going on inside his brain. Not pain. But a sense of something extra.
Still lightheaded, he got to his feet and reached for a glass from the cupboard. He turned on the tap and the stench assaulted his nose. He glanced down – the water looked clear, but he could vividly smell the iron and fluoride as it ran out of the faucet.
Maybe it’s just my imagination. I can’t be smelling fluoride in water. What does fluoride even smell like? And is that calcium carbonate? What – how do I even know what that is?
For a boy of sixteen, and one that didn’t pay much attention in his general chemistry class, he couldn’t figure out why these thoughts filled his head – let alone how he could smell and identify each of the particular elements themselves.
A loud sound, something like a bowl of cereal crackling distracted Sam. He turned to peek out the curtains and saw that it was a bicycle in the driveway. Just the neighbor kid, riding his bike after school. He headed back towards the kitchen, and then froze.
How in the world can I hear bicycle tires on the sidewalk?
Standing still, he closed his eyes to test his ears. What else could he hear? The quiet hum of the refrigerator, Mr. Parker’s lawnmower from across the street, the television in Sam’s upstairs bedroom that always stayed on, which resulted in constant nagging from his mother. But there was more.
He could hear the toilet flush from the basement bathroom in the house next door. He knew that sound didn’t come from his house, since he was home alone. So how exactly could he sense the specific location of that sound?
A squirrel scurried up one of the trees in the back yard. Without even looking, he knew from the sound that it was the papery bark of the birch tree in his mother’s flower bed. And further back, he could hear the gum balls falling from the sweet gum tree – the tree his father always griped about – from Old Lady Cullen’s house, whose property butted up against theirs.
How can I hear all of this? And will someone please shut that dog up?!
Suddenly he realized that the dog was Buttons – the poodle from two blocks over that never left the house except for his morning exercise. He only knew the bark because he heard it every morning on his way to school when he passed Buttons and his very nice looking owner as they took their morning jog. Buttons always lunged and barked at him, but Sam never minded, probably because he was too busy checking out Jeannie in her spandex.
Okay, something really weird is going on. What do I do? What do I DO? Get a grip, Sam. You’re not losing your mind. Well, maybe you are. NO, you’re not. Crap. Mom’s on her way home.
He ran upstairs to throw his backpack in the corner of his bedroom, made a quick attempt to straighten up his bed, and threw all of his dirty clothes in the closet. Then he glanced in the bathroom mirror to check for any visible marks from whatever happened. There were none. Big sigh of relief.
Just. Act. Normal. Wait, how did I know Mom was coming home early?
As if on cue, Sam’s mother walked in the door, which only added to the paranoia building in his head. In his mind’s frenzy, he couldn’t figure out if he simply heard her car outside or just sensed that she was on her way home. He didn’t believe in psychic abilities or sixth senses. If it couldn’t be seen or proven, it didn’t exist, simple enough.
She walked in looking just as fresh as when she left that morning. She had an uncanny ability to keep order in everything – herself, her home, her family, her work. Nothing got by Marcy Dixon.
“Hey kiddo, how was school today?” she said, watching Sam run awkwardly down the stairs. “What’s wrong? Do you feel okay? You look a little pale.”
“Uh, no… I’m fine. School was fine. Good. Why are you home so early?” He winced as he knew he sounded strange.
“Your sister has that cheer meeting… Are you sure you’re okay?” She didn’t sound convinced, and her eyebrows pinched together as she looked at him closer.
“Yeah, mom. I’m fine. What’s for dinner?” Not that he was even remotely hungry.
“Well, that sounds more like you. Actually, I’m just here to get her forms and run – Lexi is waiting on me at school. Can you just grab something?”
“Sure.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” She looked hard at him once again. “I can stay home…”
“No, Mom, go. I’m fine, really.” Get out of here so I can think.
“Okay, if you’re sure. But call me if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
He knew his mother hated his one-word responses, but he really wasn’t in the mood for conversation at the moment. He just needed a few quiet minutes to think. Quiet. Right. As if I can’t hear football practice from halfway across town.
As soon as she left, Sam sprinted upstairs and got out his laptop and hit the power button. While he waited, he decided a hot shower was in his best interest. Turning on the water, the stench invaded his nose again, and he decided that dinner was definitely out of the question for tonight. As he stepped into the spray, he realized that something felt different. Not only did the water feel too hot, but the pressure was much harder than he’d ever experienced.
That’s strange. I always set the temperature the same way. Great. Does that mean my sense of touch is affected now, too?
He readjusted the temperature to a cooler setting and closed his eyes. The water hit his shoulders and echoed off the walls. He could hear the soapy water as it circled through the drain and down the pipes through the house and under the ground. But the new pressure felt good, and relaxed him, despite the noise.
Clear your head. Clear your head. Good. Now let’s see if we can do a little research and figure out what’s going on here.
Sam was never the best student in school, but his grades were okay. He didn’t hate school, but rather found it tedious – he was just doing his time, waiting for the finish line. But like most teenagers, he could find just about anything he wanted to know by researching on the web. If there was something medically wrong with him, he’d get to the bottom of it.
Dried off, dressed and rejuvenated, he sat down at his desk. Once the Internet popped up, he typed in “heightened senses.” He found thousands of hits from World of Warcraft to comic book heroes. With “super smell” he found any product one could hope for – from home air fresheners to antihistamines. His “hearing” results ranged from hearing aids to radio woofers. He could find absolutely no connecting medical information on any of the search terms he plugged in.
After almost an hour of fruitless research, his head swam in pure frustration. He sat down at the edge of his bed, laid back and closed his eyes. Through the floor his feet could feel the traffic outside, the car engines purr and the tires bump along the potholes. His nose could sense the just-before-rain drizzle as it mixed with the oil and dirt on the roads and sidewalks. His ears – now buzzing with new sounds – honed in on an argument between two small children a few houses down as they fought over who got to ride the scooter next.
Then, all of a sudden, it just stopped. After a couple of hours of the constant noise and sensory static, it seemed as if everything totally shut off. His eyes flew open and he sat up in one jerky move. He brought his fingers to his ears and snapped.
Ears, check. Eyes, check. Nose…
Looking for something to test his nose on, he grabbed the nearest basketball shoe on his floor.
Check. Well, it seems like everything is back to normal. Is that good? What the…?
In a moment of panic combined with exhaustion, Sam had the urge to get out of the house. Thinking some fresh air and greasy fast food would clear his mind, he grabbed his keys and headed towards his truck. Once he started the ignition, his mind settled a bit, knowing that the radio was exactly the right volume – where he always kept it – loud, but not “drive your neighbors crazy” loud. The hand-me-down Ford that he had inherited from his dad when he turned sixteen was well used, but still looked nice and had a lot of miles left in it. Plus, as his dad always said, trucks are meant for small groups – meaning the fewer people he could pack in, the less trouble he was likely to get into.
Heading out of his subdivision, he turned towards the burger joint on Broadway Avenue. It wasn’t his favorite food, but since his best friend Ty worked there, he knew he might get a freebie in his bag. Pulling into the drive-through, Ty’s voice greeted him through the intercom. He waited for Ty to finish his usual greeting before placing his order.
“Yeah, I’d like an order of crab legs, three tacos, a funnel cake and a keg of Guinness. And make it speedy.”
“Hey Sam! Very funny… What do you really want?”
“Uh, I guess the double cheeseburger combo – make it with onion rings and a root beer.”
“You got it, come on around.”
Sam and Ty had been friends since the third grade, when they had to endure Mrs. Fisher together. Ty was new to town, and had the good fortune of sitting next to Sam on his first day. They had been inseparable ever since. It didn’t hurt that Ty’s family lived two blocks down in the same subdivision. That made after school time easy, even from the days when they were riding their bikes rather than motorized vehicles down the street.
As they grew older, they began to share everything: forts, secrets, homework, sports activities, and stories about girls – including the various theories on how to get past first base. As they grew older, their bond had only grown stronger. There really wasn’t anything one couldn’t – and didn’t – tell the other. Sam had one sister, Ty had two – so the two of them were as close to brothers as best friends could be. They were good kids – so their mothers always bragged – they watched out for one another and kept each other out of trouble.
He drove around the corner and up to the window and his friend greeted him with his normal crooked smile.
“Hey bro. What’s up?” Ty handed the drink through the window.
“Not much. Just getting some grub. What time are you off tonight?”
“Eight.” He handed Sam a bag much bigger than it should have been, had it only held a cheeseburger and onion rings.
“Cool. Call me later?”
“Will do. Anything wrong?”
“Nah. Just call me. Or text. Whatever.”
Sam took a deep breath towards the drive-through window, testing his nose. It smelled like it always did, a fast food burger joint loaded with greasy food. He felt mildly relieved to not have his nose assaulted by the smell of each individual ingredient used in the place, glad that he couldn’t hear every bit of chatter in the dining area, and even more comforted that he did not have the names of the chemical components of cooking grease floating around in his brain.
Maybe I just had a mental moment. That has to be it. Like an out of body experience. There is NOTHING wrong with me. I’m fine.
He turned his gaze back to Ty, gave him a reassuring smile and his money. “I’m headed back to the house. Got some homework to do, and will probably catch some of the Cubs game. Thanks for the brew – it’ll go great with the game!”
Ty smiled at the inside joke. When they were nine, they had pledged to have their first beer together in college, after they turned twenty-one. They officially spat and shook hands, so the promise was bonded more solidly than if they had drawn up legal papers. They still laughed about it often.
“See ya, man.”
“Bye. Thanks for the food.” He steered his truck out of the drive-through and headed back towards his house. Sam felt every bump in the road and as he bounced in the cab, he was keenly aware of the knots in his shoulder muscles and the throbbing in his temples.
Gotta shake this off…