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Retina Blue
by
Michelle Dry
Copyright
Michelle Dry
This book is shall not be lent, resold or hired out by way of trade or otherwise without the author’s consent. All rights remain with the author: Michelle Dry
CHAPTER 1
When an eye shows clarity and light, a connection to the soul is revealed.
When an eye is devoid of the celestial blueprint, the soul is lost...
It becomes Retina Blue
The moment of awakening came from the most unexpected source, at the most inconvenient time. It plunged a person’s life into complete disarray - that was how it was supposed to be.
Olivia squinted in pain, rays of light shone directly into her eyes from the window. Her apartment looked bleary. She lifted her face from the floor and peeled some sketches from her cheek. Instinctively she checked the back of her head for blood. Nothing. Her black, curled hair was matted but there was no wound. Through the blur, something darted across the room. She froze. An androgynous figure wearing black was moving closer.
Inhaling hard, she shook her head. What the..?
Silence.
A dark shape in the intruder’s hand caught her attention. ‘It’ intended to kill her.
Quiet.
“When you’re good and ready we will talk,” it said.
Its voice was deep and confident - mysterious. “That’s once you stop bloody fidgeting!”
Olivia stared. It did not return the glance, instead its eyes, behind dark glasses, remained fixed on an ornate, shimmering hourglass. It appeared to be counting something down.
“What have I done? Who are you? Who sent you?”
“Shhh! I’m waiting,” said the figure.
“Waiting for what?”
“Waiting for the precise moment.”
CHAPTER 2
In the exhibition hall of an exclusive art gallery a plump, fuming, fifty-something, art agent paced up and down muttering under his breath. As he loosened his tie, his shifty eyes darted about in agitation. Hunching his shoulders, he grew increasingly rigid.
“That girl’s always late! It’s her last bloody chance!”
He scraped his chubby fingers through his balding hair.
“Complete and utter disrespect! What does she think I am?”
He paused by a white framed window and stared out. For a moment, he just shook his head and checked his watch. I’m sick of it! If she doesn’t get here soon, I’ll have her bloody killed, that way her work might be worth something!
The agent’s face grew increasingly crimson, “this is her last bloody chance!” he spat.
CHAPTER 3
In a luxurious hotel, overlooking Bournemouth’s sandy beaches, Max laid on his king-sized bed smiling at the naked woman before him. He admired her curves as he traced his finger across her tanned, lean stomach. She smiled a coy smile, removed his hand from her hip, and slipped on her black, satin dress. “Time for me to go,” she said.
He sighed, “you don’t really have to go do you?”
“You know I do.”
She gazed at him, bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Max gazed at her breasts and then into her eyes.
She shook her head, turned, and glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.
He watched the elegant woman leave the room and adjusted himself. He would never see her again.
“Damn, I have to call Olivia!”
Max yawned, rolled over and reached for his mobile. He resented having to call Olivia. She had an exhibition looming and would be at her wits end. Did he really need to deal with all that stress? He huffed; what he put himself through just to be with her was ridiculous. Max smiled wryly, he had his reasons and it was nearly time.
CHAPTER 4
At that precise moment, a ragged, jaded, old woman with a plume of matted, white hair clung to a trolley as it careered down a steep hill. She laughed hysterically to herself whilst muttering to the three dolls perched on the wire mesh. Each doll was dressed as an angel and gazed into the distance with crooked doll eyes. Onlookers gazed at the eccentric old woman.
“You haven’t seen me, you’ll forget… I forgot... So will you.”
The time had come. She had been called. She had a role to play; she just wished she knew the source of the knowledge.
CHAPTER 5
Olivia pulled her knees into her chest and sat with her back against the white wall. Whenever she moved, she winced. Had she been beaten? Drugged?
“What do you want from me?” she asked again.
The intruder made a sideways glance, “I don’t want anything from you in particular.”
“Look - stop playing games. I know you’re here to…” Olivia gestured at the dark shape.
The intruder waved the object like a toy. “Oh this... No, you have it all wrong. It’s not so much that I’m here to kill you - it’s a mere warning. There are powers at work of which you have no understanding. And it’s far better you know of such things now, before you make any discoveries.”
Olivia gazed at the person before her suspiciously: had someone sent it? Chewing her lip, she frowned. Why warn an artist trying to make a comeback? Olivia glanced at the door, could she get past?
“I know what you’re thinking and I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” it said.
CHAPTER 6
Max grabbed a white towel from the rack and admired his perfectly sculpted physique in the mirror. He spent hours at the gym pounding the machines for that very reason; he was attractive and knew it. He could have anyone, but he had become ‘stuck’ with Olivia. She was the deal, and he was attached to her until the exhibition was complete.
He glanced at his mobile and huffed; he had to call her. Reluctantly he dialed and waited. After three rings, Olivia’s answering machine clicked on.
“Good morning darling. I hope everything is okay with the exhibition. I wish I could be there to support you but you know how these conferences go. Work, work, work! Anyway, good luck with the hanging – you know it will look fantastic. Anyway lo…ve you and see you when I get back.”
He checked his watch Seven-thirty am and frowned. He called her mobile. No answer.
“Where are you Olivia? You hardly sleep so what are you doing? Get that bloody work up and get me my money!”
CHAPTER 7
The answer phone beeped. Olivia listened to the message and glanced at the intruder; it stood with its arms folded shaking its head. “Don’t trust him. His tone reveals he’s a liar.”
Olivia ignored the comment as she grappled to sit upright. “You know what? I don’t get this... What are you doing here? What do you want from me? If it’s money...”
“Why does it always have to be about money? Do I look as though I have the slightest interest in shinny pieces of metal?”
What did that mean? “Then…?”
“As I said... I’m waiting.” The person in black paused and glanced out of the window and back to the hourglass in front of it.
“Are you some kind of weird stalker of ex-child prodigies?” asked Olivia.
“God No!” The intruder leant against the wall and sighed. “Do you understand the concept of timing?”
“In relation to what?” asked Olivia glancing at the door.
“Don’t bother thinking about escape. There isn’t time... And the timing is in relation to the universe,” it responded.
What did it mean? How could she get out? She squinted and touched the back of her head. It was still painful. Olivia frowned; the intruder was real wasn’t it?
CHAPTER 8
The art agent clenched his fists and gritted teeth. “She’s done it again! How many times do I have to endure this behaviour?”
Richard, the agent, attacked his mobile phone and pressed re-dial. “She’d better be on her way! Or... or I’ll...” he muttered. Unconsciously he stamped on the black and white patterned marble floor of the gallery. The phone rang.
“This is Olivia, please leave a message,” said the answering machine clicking on.
“Where the bloody hell are you? Get your pathetic arse over here now! I will not take this shit anymore! You will get here and put this exhibition together or we both lose everything!” he yelled. When he was finished, he snapped the phone shut. Smack! It collided with the floor. The agent loosened his collar; beads of sweat caressed his forehead and dribbled down his nose. Clasping his chest, he groaned and swayed.
CHAPTER 9
Olivia’s instinctual response was to recoil while the verbal darts flew from the answer machine.
The intruder appeared entertained by her response.
Silence.
Smiling, the intruder watched the last few golden grains trickle through the timer.
“That’s it, my timing’s done,” it said calmly.
“No! What? You held me at gunpoint so my bloody arsehole of an agent could have a go at me? What kind of weirdo are you?” she demanded.
The intruder turned its back on her and shook the hourglass.
“Yep the timing is perfect. Time to go. We did well. Er… Thank you.”
Olivia flushed red. “Wait! What are you and who are you working for? Why did you do this?”
With its back to her, the intruder removed its dark glasses. For a moment, it paused and blinked a couple of times.
Olivia recoiled, “what the...?” She dug her fingers into the carpet and jammed her feet into the floor. Her instinct was to escape but all she could manage was to shake her head.
“I work for someone higher. I am known as the Connector and the timing is falling out,” it said casually. “It’s all got a bit chaotic, usually I wouldn’t take such measures…”
“You’re mad!”
The Connector’s thin lips curled. “Believe what you wish.”
Olivia shifted to kneeling. “What on earth are you?” asked Olivia, tears trickling down her cheeks.
The Connector waited, it expected the inevitable.
Urgently, she grabbed her stomach and suppressed a wave of nausea. Goosebumps prickled all over her body.
The Connector glanced back at the hourglass, “I have over stayed my ‘time’ and witnessing my eyes will help you in the future - we will meet again.”
“But I don’t want to meet again!”
“The conscious choice is not yours and it will be a much nicer experience next time. I won’t bring the weapon.”
Olivia hugged herself; the Connector’s eyes were large and clear. They were so beautiful, so turquoise. Yet there was something missing.
The Connector gestured, “by seeing my eyes you will know what you are looking for - what is extra in you and what I am missing. You are now on a search for Retina Blue: it will be the genius behind your work. Think of it as a divine gift.”
It paused and gazed into her eyes, “you are very lucky- if luck exists,” it smirked.
“Retina Blue? What on earth does that mean?” she asked in a dazed tone.
“I said our time is up! The rest is up to you.” The Connector turned towards the window, paused for a second and glanced back. “Olivia consider the people you have in your life. A lot of them are arseholes. Time to clear them out! Transformation is coming!” It grinned, waved, ran and then jumped.
Olivia scrambled urgently to standing and sprinted towards the window. Her glance navigated one hundred and eighty degrees. Nothing. It had disappeared... How was that possible?
The space between the ground and the window was empty. There was no evidence and nowhere for it to go. Nothing. The only other visible living entity was a squawking raven perched on a chimney of the apartment block across the street.
“Go to routine Olivia,” she whispered to herself.
CHAPTER 10
The old woman glanced at her watch; she had two miles to walk until she was in the designated position. She felt tired and weary, just old. Admittedly there were other ways to travel, it was just she should not influence anything and definitely not talk to anyone. “This one will be perfect,” she croaked.
Olivia was late, “this is so strange. Why would that happen?” She took a seat at her large Mahogany desk and pulled her sketchbook from a drawer. Click. The lead in her pencil was ready. What was it? Connector, time frame, eyes and Retina Blue, she scribbled. There was no obvious connection.
Leaning back in her chair, Olivia gazed into space. Her head swooned. The image of the being’s eyes haunted her. Carefully she drew the Connector’s eye. Were they green or turquoise? Clear? Was there any pattern or was it missing a pattern? With a loud sigh she rested her head in her hands, she felt exhausted, ill, weak and insane. “Where’s Max when I need him? I need his rationale,” she muttered.
It was too much – too weird! Olivia took a deep breath; it had not intended to kill her. It? Was ‘it’ mutated or some kind of clone?
Olivia paused mid-sketch; its eyes weren’t human. What does that mean? She chewed her pencil and attempted to retrace the previous events. What had happened before she woke up? When had she been beaten? Why couldn’t she remember? Olivia pinched herself out of courtesy. She had done that many times as a child. Yes, she had experienced visions before. Usually stress triggered them. Nevertheless, they were just kid’s visions - they happened with over active imaginations.
Olivia rested her head in her hands; it was happening again, the creativity was taking over. When she was young, she would get so involved in her inner landscape that she could get stuck. Hours and hours of daydreaming enabled her to travel through ornate mental labyrinths, the source of her inspiration. Of course, she never told people where she got the images, they would never understand and she certainly could not show them. Olivia huffed, it was there again. The events that took place at thirteen when the labyrinth had become the place to escape and hide. The door was opening and it was calling her. If she went in again she feared she would never return. She had almost died there once and she did not intend to allow that to happen again.
Something sparkled from amongst the shag pile. Olivia dashed over, picked up the tiny ornament and stared at it. “It’s empty- but it’s real.”
Within a second, the ornament shattered and disintegrated in her hand. A glittery substance remained.
CHAPTER 11
Max strolled along the promenade next to Bournemouth beach. It was a warm summer’s day so tourists clustered in droves close to the pier. On the edge of the beach, Max found himself the perfect view of sun lotioned, glistening bodies and bikini-clad breasts. It was beautiful. From such a vantage point, he could select a variety of potential conquests to prey upon. With his hotel just two minutes away, it was perfect. The sales conference had finished two days ago and he was simply enjoying the view.
In a matter of weeks, when he completed his contract, he would be free of her, the drain. He could have whatever he wanted - whoever he wanted. Max began the stroll back to his hotel and glanced in the IMAX theatre window, he looked shattered. He wondered how much more emotional support he could provide Olivia. It was draining, but he was close to the payout.
A raven landed on a post close to where Max was admiring himself. It squawked but was ignored.
Max smoothed his hair; he had the image, but certainly did not have the collateral. He posed in his lavish car chosen purely for sex appeal. He dealt in cars; he needed the best - of course. Admittedly it was not his own, he could never afford such a vehicle with all his dept. Max turned his back to a group of giggling girls and watched them in the mirrored window. One particular petite blonde caught his eye and smiled back. He intended to ‘have’ her by the end of the day.
He glanced at his phone, Olivia’s number was on the display ready to dial. He shook his head; Olivia was business, the blonde on the other hand was potentially unadulterated pleasure.
CHAPTER 12
Olivia assembled her sketchbooks and shoved them in her green corduroy bag. She checked herself in the mirror and adjusted some of her dark ringlets. She searched her scalp for cuts - nothing. Why did she feel so bruised? She paused by the mirror, she’d changed so much of late. At least she was recognisable now, rather than the withdrawn skeleton she had been through her years of ‘escape’. The mind is a powerful tool Olivia, but your body still needs to function. She rearranged her hair, picked up her bag and made her way out of her apartment.
Descending the remaining steps into the garage, Olivia clicked her car key. Her purple Peugeot sat waiting. It had been a birthday present from Max. She often wondered how he had raised the money.
Turning the key in the ignition Olivia revved the engine and drove. The events of the morning spun through her mind. Some lively music would distract her. That was exactly what she needed: a distraction.
To make it to the Tate gallery in Pimlico, Olivia had to cross the Hammersmith Bridge and it was nearing rush hour. She was already late and the traffic would not be kind. What’s more, when she arrived she would have to deal with a sweaty, angry maniac. Olivia unconsciously shook her head. How do I explain?
CHAPTER 13
Guy resembled the statue of David, but in the flesh, albeit David’s male appendage. He did however have large feet and strong hands. In his early thirties with dark hair and sky blue eyes, he struggled with the perfect white statuette he had carved. He wrapped it carefully in some thick, cream canvas and took one last glance at his sculpture. He hated parting with her after so much time and effort.
He climbed onto his motorbike and wedged the statue by his heart. He adjusted his leather-riding jacket and left just the head poking out. Guy looked down and smirked. The small head peering from the jacket looked ridiculous. Smiling to himself, he kick-started his bike. He had to cross London in rush hour. I hate it. London drivers - God help me!
The old woman reached the meeting point and paused. I suppose I should sit down and wait until it happens- it’s nearly time. She adjusted her tatty floral skirt before she sat on some cool, marble steps beside a series of traffic lights. Someone will have to calm the traffic. Out of boredom, she examined her overgrown, curling, toenails. They were aggressively poking out of her worn, leather sandals. They need cutting.
She was early, she hated that. It meant people would witness her presence before the incident occurred. At least she had time to rehearse her lines. “The eye is the gateway to the soul- not very original... Okay... The eye is the gateway to the soul, the eye contains all information - it is not to be tampered with, and it will change everything when discovered.”
The old woman coughed a phlegmy cough and wiped her mouth. “The eye is the gateway to the soul. Time and instance are reflected within it. Within the eye is the divine - oh shit I always forget that bit!” she said gruffly and scratched her neck. That’s why being old is such a bloody conundrum. When you finally have knowledge, you cannot bloody remember it for the life of you. What you do bloody remember you repeat. Oh to remember…To understand.
The old woman glanced at the dolls, “what are you staring at?”
A passer- by threw a coin sympathetically at the old woman. It bounced off her head and spun on the ground. “She thinks I’m bloody mad and now she’s upset the balance. How am I supposed to do this properly if the rules constantly get broken?”
The old woman looked up; before her stood a figure dressed in black. “Give me the coin-,” said the powerful, sexless voice.
The old woman passed the coin obligingly.
The figure spun the circular metal piece into the air.
She watched the coin arc and land before the passer by. The coin pinged as it collided with the ground and compelled the passer-by to pick it up.
The old woman looked up at the figure. “I thought it was about time you showed up,” she said huskily.
CHAPTER 14
The Connector guided the old woman to her feet. “It’s nearly time- they’re both on their way.”
“What’s so important about her then? Why this one?” asked the old woman curiously.
“The level of discovery she will make will change everything. If she makes the connections and understands the underlying truth she will have the power to affect everything.” “Is that why you took everything away from her before?” asked the old woman.
“You shouldn’t remember that. There is a time and a place for everything and her time was not until now.”
“I think it’s all gibberish,” said the old woman.
“You know what you’re playing with Ivy and you know you’re buying time.”
I thought they didn’t have time where you come from!
“I heard that,” it said examining a small, ornate hourglass.
The old woman stared angrily at the Connector’s strange eyes. They were so empty. “You seem to have something missing from your eyes. I never noticed it before - but there is definitely something missing.”
The Connector feigned a smile. “It’s the imprint. I don’t have it; you know that. The imprint is the gateway to the soul, it’s part of your line,” it said.
The old woman nodded. “I know, but I forget!” I forgot everything. That’s why I’m here now. The old woman paused in contemplation. “Why is it that age forces forgetfulness? That’s something you should look into.”
The Connector studied Ivy’s old, weathered face. “Originally you were never designed to live as long, which is where your free will came in.”
“I don’t feel like I’ve had much time. I feel like it went too fast... I don’t remember half of it anyway,” the old woman snorted.
“Maybe you outlived your allotted time, maybe that is why you have to help us.”
The old woman peered at ‘it’. “But I thought when your numbers up, it’s up.”
“It was - but what happens when a delicate balance is misaligned and harmony is thrown into disarray?”
The old woman studied the being. “You’re right- I suppose, but who created disarray?”
The Connector gazed at the old woman kindly, not wanting to debate. “Who created your society? Who created your goals? Who discerned to corrupt and who defied all the laws of nature? It wasn’t who was in control of disarray was it now?”
The old lady appeared perplexed. How has it come to this?
CHAPTER 15
Olivia played her second favourite song in the car “I can see clearly now the rain has gone,” she sang slightly out of tune, but at the top of her lungs. As it was such a nice day, she hit a button that activated the roof to retract and fold. Happily, in the bright sunlight, she drove at speed singing. Olivia frowned; the road ahead was surprisingly quiet for rush hour. Where are all the cars? Strange. Olivia checked her rear view mirror. A motorbike was travelling at speed behind her but that was it.
A junction loomed closer. She noticed a single red convertible speeding in her direction. Rush hour? She searched for an accident, a roadblock, or a sign. Nothing. It did not make sense, she was usually jammed tight with thousands of other cars. Something is wrong here. She glanced at the red convertible carrying two gangly teenage boys. One had a shaven head; the other wore a baseball cap and they were larking about. Instinctively Olivia shifted lanes as they drew parallel.
“All right darlin’?” shouted the passenger, who was awkwardly lanky and no older than seventeen.
She intentionally ignored him and glanced at her speed dial. Both cars were travelling at sixty miles an hour on a dual carriageway. Purposely Olivia slowed down, but the red convertible followed.
She glanced to her left and noticed the lanky teenager was removing his clothing. He grinned a toothy grin at her.
Bloody hell!
The young, semi-naked man unstably jerked himself to standing. He relished the blast of air rushing across his pale, skinny body. He gyrated mischievously and gestured at the sock covering his genitalia.
Fucking idiots!
CHAPTER 16
Driving at the speed limit Guy glanced ahead gripping his bike. The pressure of the statue against his chest was growing increasingly painful. Slowing down, he used one hand to re-position her. Once balanced, he noticed the backside of the gangly bloke in a convertible gesturing at a woman in the car travelling beside him. Bloody idiots! Get off the bloody road!
“Oy darlin... Hey, hey baby... You wan’ ta see what’s under the sock?” called the lanky bloke.
Olivia purposely did not react; instead, she slowed the car and stared straight ahead. From the corner of her eye, she noticed he yanked the sock from his knob. He paused for a moment and awaited her reaction. Nothing. He reached into the back seat and placed something solid inside the sock. He then lobbed it at her. Smack!
Olivia reacted the only way she knew how and slammed on the breaks, not anticipating the consequences.
The teenager in the red convertible laughed hysterically and drove off at speed. He would reap the non-rewards of his actions later. Every action creates a sequence of reactions - cause and effect.
A reflex action and Olivia slammed on the breaks. An airbag inflated. Her face was thrust backwards; she instinctively used her hands to guard her face but her heart shape ring gauged itself into the centre of her forehead. Blood dribbled between her eyes as the car spun out of control. The world became empty, a blur.
Guy, on his Enfield motorbike, attempted to swerve. Too late and too close. The second expanded while his reflexes searched for a solution – nothing. In a matter of seconds, he was catapulted into the air when he collided with the car in front. Smack! The bike skidded along the tarmac, throwing sparks in all directions. At the same time, the statue travelled at speed through space. There was going to be a point where the arc would end and he would plummet towards the ground. I’m going to be killed.
Olivia’s car came to a standstill. She ripped the sock from her face and wrestled the airbag away from her. Once she was free, she looked up. A man in a crash helmet collided with her bonnet and bounced off onto the road. THUD!
Something rolled into the gutter.
“No!” Olivia was rigid. She didn’t dare look. Tears welled in her eyes; I’ve killed someone.
