Meridia Falls Series 1 Books 1 & 2: The Spark & Sunburst (Meridia Falls Boxsets) Read online

  MERIDIA FALLS: SERIES ONE

  BOOKS 1 & 2 - THE SPARK & SUNBURST

  D.B. GREEN

  CONTENTS

  Free Download

  The Spark

  Logan’s Letter

  Monday 3rd October 2005

  07:37 GMT-4

  08:16 GMT-4

  08:41 GMT-4

  09:16 GMT-4

  13:22 GMT-4

  14:02 GMT-4

  15:15 GMT-4

  15:36 GMT-4

  16:03 GMT-4

  18:28 GMT-4

  19:12 GMT-4

  Next Time

  Sunburst

  Logan’s Letter

  Monday 3rd October 2005

  19:22 GMT-4

  19:41 GMT-4

  20:03 GMT-4

  21:32 GMT-4

  Tuesday 4th October 2005

  06:24 GMT-4

  07:34 GMT-4

  08:11 GMT-4

  08:39 GMT-4

  09:24 GMT-4

  09:51 GMT-4

  10:12 GMT-4

  10:26 GMT-4

  10:59 GMT-4

  Next Time

  Free Download

  More Books by D.B. Green

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  FREE DOWNLOAD

  Sign up to D.B. Green’s Readers’ Group and get your free copy of the Cross files: Parts 1 & 2. You’ll also be notified of new releases, giveaways and updates about his books.

  Go here to get started:

  http://www.db-green.com/cross-files-1-box-1

  For my family:

  Lorna, Brandon, Kara, Pebble, and Marble.

  September 25th, 2005

  Dear Cassie,

  I should have stopped writing these letters years ago, but with every word I write, I feel you by my side. It’s only for a moment, but it’s a moment I never want to lose.

  I finished summer school and passed with flying colors. It was tough to catch up, but working at the garage in the evenings helped a lot.

  I’m so glad to be out of Serenity Grove. I can’t be grateful enough to Harmony. I still can’t process that she works for our grandmother, Anne. I still can’t process that we have a grandmother, let alone that she was actually trying to get in touch with me for years. But I’m still suffering from panic attacks. They seem to be getting worse. Harmony got me in to see a great doctor in Vancouver, who’s prescribed, what he called, ‘the correct medication’. According to him, the drugs that mom’s doctor had me on for all those years were causing my blackouts. He says they could also be the reason for the recurring dream.

  Speaking of Harmony, she arrived yesterday. I think she feared I would bail. I can’t say the thought never entered my head, but I made a promise and I’m determined to stick to it. She brought good news with her. She says Anne managed to finalize everything and now has custody of me until I’m 18. It’s weird, but at least it means I’m free of Mom and Larry. For now, anyway.

  I still can’t believe I’m moving back to Meridia Falls. I’ll finally get to see the secret house you always talked about. I just wish you were here to see it too. Harmony wants to take a flight to Halifax, but I managed to buy a truck with the money I earned at the garage. It’s a beat up red GMC truck. But it’s my beat up red GMC truck. It’s perfect. I guess Harmony will be stuck with me on the road trip. It’s gonna take 5 days, but I’m looking forward to the drive to Nova Scotia and to the fresh start in Meridia Falls.

  I’ll write again soon, Cassie. I just wish you could write back.

  Logan

  x

  MONDAY

  3rd October

  2005

  07:37 GMT-4

  LOGAN COLLINS

  THE HARRISON ESTATE | MERIDIA FALLS

  I tilt Cassie’s photograph until the light from the lamp catches her smile. Her cute smile. A smile I’d give my life to see again. The familiar cold sadness rises in my stomach, like an oncoming storm. “So, Cassie, what do you think, should I jump the gun this time?” Her innocent green eyes look back as I continue to tilt the photograph back and forth. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Discretion, for now.” I gently place the silver photo frame back on the bedside table. This is the only image I have left to remember Cassie. A school photo taken a week before her eighth birthday… a week before it happened. A photo reproduced a million times across Canada.

  The dream. I grab the photo frame again, clutching it with both hands. My heart beats fast, pounding as hard as thunder. “I had the dream again Cassie. That girl leading me through the forest to the burning trees.” I tap my head to the glass in the frame. My heart pounds so fast that it feels like it will burst any second. “The girl seemed so real… so familiar.”

  I reach for my Roaxatol and drop a pill in my mouth. It leaves a chalky taste in my throat, but calms the rising panic. Just a dream.

  The smell of freshly baked apple pie drifts up from the kitchen, bringing my mind back into focus. Anne, the grandmother whom I’d not met before this weekend, owns the Main Street Bakery. Even though she’s got a legion of staff there, baking like there’s no tomorrow, she always likes to start the day baking the special orders herself. I’ve never been a lover of apple pie; and after having been woken by the smell for the last three days, I never will be. The thought of eating it makes me want to puke.

  “Logan, honey, I’ve made you something special for your birthday breakfast.” Anne’s soft voice echoes up the stairs. “Join me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

  Crap. I’d forgotten it was my birthday today. What’s to celebrate? I reach for Cassie’s photo again. “Great. A reminder of another year you’ve missed.”

  I open the bedroom door a little, coughing at the apple pie fog that blows through the tiny crack with the force of a sweet-smelling hurricane. “I’ll be right down, Anne.”

  I pull back the dark-blue curtains and peer out through the frost-covered sash window. When she moved to Meridia Falls, Anne purchased the largest property. Formerly called the Kings Estate, she renamed it after her own family name. The Harrison Estate is the size of a full block, just off Main Street. Mom and dad lived here for a short while. This room was my nursery. There’s no way I could remember it though. They whisked me away before my first birthday. Cassie could remember this house. The ‘secret house,’ she called it.

  Something sets off a security light under my window. The dark blur of a cat diving across the gravel drive sets off more lights. Within seconds all the security lights around the fountain are on. They shine on the frost-covered frozen water. It glistens like a diamond-covered white blanket. My old truck parked next to it glistens, too. The frost covers most of the red paintwork. Those windows are gonna need one hell of a good scraping to clear all that ice. My fingers ache at the prospect. But, at least there’s no snow. The kids at summer school took great delight in winding me up about the arctic conditions in Nova Scotia.

  I accidentally kick over my rucksack as I open the other curtains. The new school books I should’ve started reading tumble out across the wooden floor. I lift my rucksack onto the bed and drop the books back inside, along with the Meridia High admission pack from the top of the dresser.

  The letter. It’s inside the street atlas. I remember tucking it inside last night before going to sleep. I reach across to the bedside table and open the book to the map of Main Street. Cassie’s folded letter falls onto the bed. A message in a bottle; the only grief therapy that worked, although I’m not sure I s
hould still be writing them.

  Opening the dresser drawer, I take a blank white envelope.

  “Logan, it’s getting late.”

  Anne’s voice is closer, like she’s standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’m coming down now!”

  I quickly write out the envelope.

  Cassie Collins

  Sunshine Minds

  P.O. Box 1963

  Vancouver, BC

  V5K 3C1

  Sealing the envelope, I slip the letter into my rucksack so I can post it on my way to school. Then I grab the bottle of Roaxatol and slip it in the front pocket.

  The apple pie fog is more intense at the top of the stairs. It’s worse than cigarette smoke. I take a deep breath and run down the huge staircase. It curls around as the stairs spread out into the large hallway. It’s one of those staircases where you could slide down the banister. Maybe I should have done - anything to speed up my getting out of the house and escaping this smell.

  This place is a far cry for the prison-like conditions at Serenity Grove. Memories of straitjackets and long needles fill my mind. I rub the side of my head, my finger finding the tiny lump of an injection scar. In fact, Serenity Grove made even my summer school dorm seem like the Ritz, and I hated that summer school - with a passion.

  There are two kitchens in this house. The main kitchen isn’t used much by Anne. She just uses a smaller kitchen that’s at the back of the dining room. She says the King family had an army of servants, as well as a chef, when they lived here. But she didn’t need all the help, so she let them go. Anne definitely seems more of a hands-on kind of woman.

  This house is like a maze. I head under the archway at the back of the living room and into the dining room. The smell of apple pie is even stronger here. It drifts through under the double doors behind the long, always set, dining table. I push open the doors and step into the bright, country kitchen.

  “Surprise!” Anne stands at the back of kitchen table. She’s almost hidden behind a huge stack of pancakes.

  “Happy birthday, honey,” she says, beaming with a soft smile. I still can’t believe she’s my grandmother. Apart from the gray flecks in her short auburn hair, she doesn’t look much older than my mom. How old was Anne when she had her? She must have been young. Like, really young.

  The thought of pancakes and maple syrup sends the questions away. I drop my rucksack at the side of the table and pull out a chair. “I love pancakes.”

  “I guess you don’t need to sneak some Pop-Tarts behind my back today.”

  Busted.

  Anne winks as she slides over a warm plate. “Help yourself.” She kisses me on my forehead. “I remember your mom telling me once that you liked pancakes for breakfast.”

  Mom. How the hell does my mom know what I like? She’s missed most of my life.

  “What’s the matter honey? Did I get it wrong?”

  “No, Anne. This is perfect.” I smile at her, sincerely moved by the gesture. “Just perfect.”

  She smiles and heads over to the stove. “Let me know if you want any more. The skillet is still hot. It’s not every day you turn seventeen.”

  I stick a fork into the pancakes and drag four on to my plate. “I think this will be enough,” I say, tilting a jug of maple syrup over them. The thick sauce drizzles over the pancakes like a sweet waterfall.

  They don’t last long.

  I fork over another couple as Anne watches me out of the corner of her eye.

  “I made you some birthday cupcakes for your lunch.” She unzips my rucksack and slides in a small cake box, pausing with her hand on the zipper. “I know first days can be tough.” She pats the outline of the cake box showing through. “Now, you’ve got something to look forward to.”

  “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.”

  She smiles and points at her apron. “I’m a baker. It’s what I do.”

  I stand from the table and head to the tall silver fridge in the corner of the kitchen. I grab a bottle of milk from inside and take a long drink.

  “Logan! I don’t know how you do it in the city, but here in Meridia Falls, we don’t drink straight from the milk bottle.”

  I slip the bottle back inside the fridge and wipe my mouth. “Sorry. I guess I’m just used to fending for myself.”

  Anne narrows her eyes and then smiles. “Yes, I suppose it will take you a little time to adjust. I’ll let you off… this time.”

  I slide back into my chair and finish the last two pancakes. Then, Anne swaps the empty plate for two birthday cards and a blue-and-yellow striped parcel. I open the first card. It’s tall and thin with a picture of a present in the center.

  Happy Birthday Logan

  Love

  Mom and Larry

  It’s a printed, corporate card. Probably one Mom’s assistants sent it. I bet she even forgot it was my birthday.

  Anne plucks the card out of my hand like a toy grabber at a fairground. Her eyes narrow. “That’s nice,” she says, through clenched teeth.

  I open the second card. This is a larger one, with a colorful picture of a birthday cake filling the front.

  I’m so happy you’re here with me Logan. I know you hardly know me, but I promise that will change.

  Happy Birthday

  Love

  Anne x

  (Yes, don’t worry, you can call me Anne.)

  “Thanks… Anne.” No matter how hard I try to think of her as Grandma, I just can’t bring myself to call her that just yet.

  She smiles and takes both cards. “I’ll stand these on the mantel in the living room. Don’t forget to open your present.”

  She breezes past and the essence of apple pie once again overpowers my senses. I reach for the blue-and-yellow striped present. The matching tag on the top says it’s from Anne. I rip open the paper to reveal a small, dark green leather-covered box. There’s a single gold word on the front.

  Rolex

  Jesus Christ. I run my fingers over the soft leather and ease open the lid of the box. A shiny silver Rolex watch hides inside. It glistens in the light from the small chandelier above the kitchen table.

  “I know you don’t want to make a fuss about all the money, but I wanted to get you something nice for your birthday. To make up for all the missed ones.” Anne ruffles my hair. “It’s discreet.”

  I take out the watch and slip it over my wrist. “Thank you. It’s looks great.”

  Anne smiles and slides a bunch of keys on to the table. “Don’t forget these.”

  “I won’t.”

  She scoops up the discarded wrapping paper and drops it in the trash can next to the kitchen window. “You’d better make a move, Logan,” she says. “It looks freezing outside. You’ll need to scrape the ice from your car windows… unless you want Ellis to drop—”

  “No, it’s fine,” I say, before she can finish the offer. “Won’t do my street cred any good to have my grandmother’s chauffeur dropping me off at school on my first day.”

  Anne laughs. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t.” She slides my plate into the sink. “I don’t think Ellis would get here in time anyway, he’s picking up Harmony on the way.”

  Harmony Hart, Anne’s Personal Assistant - and my guardian angel. Her kind face flashes through my mind.

  “She wants to see you today,” Anne says. “Drop by the bakery after school, I think she may have a surprise for you.” She sings the last few words.

  I unzip my rucksack and feel inside for my gloves. “OK, I’ll drop by after school. I might be in need of some friendly faces.”

  “I’m sure it will go well,” Anne says, without turning around from the sink. “Have you got your medication?”

  I tap my rucksack. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

  “Principal Dawson is a friend. I asked him to watch out for you.”

  Great. Just what I need. Another school principal watching over my shoulder.

  08:16 GMT-4

  THE HARRISON ESTATE | MERIDIA FALLS


  The engine judders for a second, like it will stall, but the regular, tractor-like chugging returns to its normal noisy pattern. I press my hand to the faded red hood. “Don’t let me down,” I whisper, my freezing breath blowing like smoke. I wouldn’t be without my pride and joy. Old and battered, yes, but this GMC truck is all mine. No handouts, no trust fund. Paid for by me, from money I earned fair and square over the summer. My safety net, the one place I feel truly safe.

  I force the ice scraper down the windscreen again, gouging out another thin channel. I’ve now scraped away enough ice to see out. It’s only a small opening, but it will be good enough.

  The headlights pick out the trees lining the garden’s edge. A thin veil of mist drifts across the grass, extending its wispy fingers towards my truck.

  I reach for the door handle.

  Something falls over at the side of the house, clattering onto the frozen gravel. I take my hand away from the door. “Anne is that you?” I shout.