They’d asked her for her name and address, and she’d been shocked when they informed her that there was no such place. That her home had never existed.
When they told her that there had never been a Jason and Robin Dawson living in the state, she’d mentally broken down. They had quickly marked her as a runaway and sent her to a halfway home for troubled teens.
For years she tried to get anyone to believe her, but there were no bodies and no sign of her childhood home, so no one did.
Tara had, in the span of less than a dozen heartbeats, gone from the princess on the hill, living in a castle with anything she could ever dream of at her fingertips, to a pauper living in a hovel with a dozen or more degenerates.
Her childhood had been filled with expensive gifts, toys, and everything she’d ever wanted. She’d been so spoiled that she’d never had to do a chore in her life. Now, she not only had chores she was expected to do each day, but shortly after arriving, she’d been told to get a paying job. She had to purchase her own clothing and her own food, all while fending off the aggressive kids she lived with, who tried to steal what she’d worked hard for.
Now Tara rolled over and tried to block the images of her past out of her mind. Only they wouldn’t leave. She knew what could happen if she continued down this train of thought.
She tossed off the blankets, climbed to the front of the sleeper van, and started up the engine. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well drive.
Here it was, ten years later, and she was still all alone. Less than a year after moving into the halfway home, she’d packed a bag and set out on her own. Anything had to be better than living like that.
They’d called her a runaway from that first day, so why not make it true? After all, she’d been seventeen at the time and making enough money to support herself.
It hadn’t been difficult, moving to the street. Not after she’d lost everything that fateful first day.
She’d actually welcomed the change. Welcomed being dependent on herself and not others. She was even good at it, fending for herself.
The first thing she’d done was leave California. She hated the weather, the people, the expensive things. It reminded her too much of everything she’d lost.
At first, it had made her skin crawl to be treated as less than human by people who had what she used to have. Had she treated people like that when she’d been in their position? Probably. That made her stomach hurt even more.
After leaving California, she’d hitchhiked up to Seattle and had gotten a job as a barista. She found a roommate and for at least the first year had lived a pretty normal life.
Then, one evening, she’d missed the bus to her apartment and had stomped her foot in frustration. When a large split in the pavement appeared in front of her, she had blinked a few times in disbelief. Then the ground had started to shake and, this time, she’d run for her life, unwilling to lose everything once more.
She’d packed her things in a backpack and hadn’t stopped moving until she’d ended up in Utah almost a month later. Again, she’d found a job in a coffee shop in a small town, this time as a manager.
She’d gotten the job when she’d walked in to get a cup of coffee and the only employee had been overwhelmed, so she’d stepped in the back to help out. The owner had shown up less than an hour later and hired her on the spot.
The nice older woman had rented her the room above the coffee shop, and she’d stuck around the small town for almost a full year.
She’d been sitting outside on one of her many breaks one day and happened to see a young couple kissing on the corner. Watching the couple, her heart had yearned for a boyfriend, for anyone to be close to. The next thing she’d known, the old brick building was shaking. Glass windowpanes broke, cars veered off the road and hit parked cars, people screamed, and Tara knew exactly what was happening. She knew it was time to move on.
That was the day she stopped wishing for anything. Stopped hoping that someday she’d have someone in her life, that she could possibly be normal. That was the day she realized there was something wrong with her.
From that day forward, strange things continued to happen, ensuring that she never stayed in one place for too long.
She’d ended up in Denver one snowy night and had gotten a flat tire. Pulling off to the side of the road, she realized she’d never changed a tire in her life.
Doing her best, she jacked up the van that she’d purchased a year earlier and had just removed the flat tire to put on the spare when the jack slipped. The entire van came rushing towards her, but then she’d stopped it. Just like that, she was holding the weight of the entire van in her hands as if it weighed no more than a feather.
After putting the jack back in place, she’d finished changing the tire quickly. The next morning, she’d convinced herself that she’d dreamed the whole thing.
That week she’d broken into an empty hunting cabin and had tried a few things out. She pushed herself beyond what she thought was possible. Each time she did something unfeasible, she wrote it down in a notebook.
For ten years, every time she forgot herself for a moment or let her guard down and someone noticed it, she was forced to jump in her secondhand sleeper van, which held all her worldly possessions, and flee.
She’d tried once to get close to people. To let her guard down. That fiasco had almost cost her everything, so she stopped trying to make friends. To find someone to get close to. She settled, at least in her mind, upon being alone for the rest of her life.
Recently, she’d read a few old articles and had gotten the idea to head south. To Hidden Creek, Georgia, to be exact.
The place sounded eerie. She was especially intrigued by a story about a woman named Xtina Warren, who, according to the article, had extraordinary abilities. Nothing like hers, but it was a start.
While she made her way south from Washington, she researched everything she could about the woman and the town. By the time she made it to Georgia, she’d read all about Xtina and her close circle of friends, thanks to a few articles written by Breanna Garrett-Kincaid.
Some of the articles were hard to believe, but others not so much after what she’d been through in the past years. Her one hope was that she’d find answers to what was happening to her. If Xtina and her friends didn’t have any insights into what was going on, then she was truly alone in this world.
Chapter 1
From the moment Tara drove into Hidden Creek, Georgia, she felt something shift in her core. There was power here. She wasn’t sure what kind of energy it was, but it caused her entire body to go on guard and vibrate.
Parking in front of the one and only coffee shop, she debated her next step. She was running incredibly low on supplies and money. She had less than fifty dollars hidden in her boot.
She was low on gas and it had been days since she’d eaten a full meal. She’d been getting by on a handful of stale cracker packets from the last diner she’d worked at and junk food she purchased at gas stations along the way.
If she didn’t find answers in town, she was going to have to do something drastic and find someplace more permanent to settle down. Most likely a city where there were an abundance of jobs and loads of people to blend in with.
She checked herself in the mirror, then pulled out some wipes and cleaned her face. She dabbed some deodorant on, sprayed herself with the cheap perfume she’d purchased at a mall, and then braided her long blonde hair. She wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but at least she looked pretty enough to get a job at a small-town coffee shop.