The Spiral Effect Read Online Free PDF Page A

reach to her breasts, crashing against her, pushing
her backward. Medusa tries to resume her song, but it’s too late.
The waves rise to her chin.
    Higher. Stronger.
    The tide sucks backward, revealing an empty
seabed consumed by her massive serpentine tail. Medusa gives one
last roar before the giant wave collapses, burying her beneath the
dead ocean.
    INTRUDER! INTRUDER!
    Intensify the sound—the flashing yellow,
green, red, and orange lights. Sting her eyes. Disorient her. Sorry
Taylor, but you have no idea how important those files are to the
world.
    “ I’m sorry.”
    The dark beach slowly fades away and melts
into the front door to my office. The door is slightly ajar, the
lock broken, lying smashed on the floor.
    Taylor?
    “ Didn’t know. Didn’t
know.”
    She sits by my desk, knees up, arms clutched
around them. She rocks back and forth, crying. Another trap?
Possible. Taylor has already caught me off guard three times.
    Focus. Stay aware.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Please don’t hurt
me.”
    Taylor looks up, tears staining her cheeks.
A cold draft coming from somewhere blows her hair across her face.
A piece of white paper, words scribbled from top to bottom on both
sides, flies past her and falls at my feet. I step on it to keep it
from blowing away, bend down, pick it up, fold it neatly, and place
it in my pocket.
    Turn it off, Taylor.
    She shakes her head. “I didn’t do it. I was
thinking about it—but—but—I promise, I didn’t do it.”
    No more tricks.
    “It’s not a trick! I told you I didn’t do
it. Someone else. Let me go home. Let me go to my mommy. I promise
I’ll leave you alone. Won’t bother you again.”
    Not until you explain what’s happening.
    “I said I’m sorry.”
    Taylor.
    “You don’t believe me. You think I did it. I
didn’t I didn’t I didn’t.”
    She buries her head in her arms and
sobs.
    Genuine.
    I kneel at her side and touch her shoulder.
Taylor…
    “I thought you were like them. Going to
steal my mommy’s body—my body.” She sniffs up some snot. “I had
already set a trap for them but you came. Didn’t know—didn’t know
you were good until I saw—saw—please, I didn’t do it. You have to
believe me.”
    I hug her and rub her hair as she cries some
more. Shh. I believe you. I believe you. My files are fine. None
are missing. Everything’s okay.
    Pity flashes in her eyes.
    “You mean you don’t know?”
    Not a trick.
    Genuine.
    “The paper.”
    I reach into my pocket and pull out the
crumpled piece of notebook paper. At the top is written: November 15, 1989: Trip to Dallas .
    What is this? A memory?
    I smooth out the paper and look at it more
closely.
    Dad got mad at mom again. Flicked his
cigarette at her and stormed down the walkway. Everyone watched in
disbelief and disgust. I blame the heat. It’s hot here. Sun beats
down on everyone. No shade. Stupid place too. Don’t care about
where Kennedy got shot. Don’t even know who he was. Probably
someone famous. Maybe a musician like John Lennon.
    What is this?
    Taylor’s lip trembles. She thinks I don’t
believe her.
    “Please, just let me go back to my
mommy.”
    Taylor, I believe you didn’t do it. I
promise. But do you know why one of my memories is adrift?
    “Uh…” Taylor stares at her feet, won’t look
me in the eye.
    You do, don’t you?
    “Promise you won’t get mad?”
    Why would I get mad?
    “You have to promise.”
    Okay, okay. I promise. I won’t get mad at
you.
    “Or around me. If you start to get real
angry and think you might yell or throw stuff, let me go to my
mommy first, okay? I hate it when grownups get mad.”
    I nod, understanding the feeling all too
well.
    I promise.
    “Come here.” Taylor holds out her hand. I
take it and she leads me toward the direction of the cold
breeze.
    The air grows colder, wind stronger, as we
walk closer to its source.
    “It’s not good.” Taylor says. “It happened
to my daddy once. Some guy tried to take mommy. Said