Twist by Colby Hodge

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When a young college student is sucked into a postapocalyptic future with humanity fighting against a subtle evil to survive, she learns that the contents of her house are the key to saving not only the entire earth, but also the handsome ER doctor who has stolen her heart.

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"Canceled due to flooding." I looked at the sign on the door of my American Karate class and then peered through the bars that protected the storefront from break-ins to see if anyone was inside. The lights from the street reflected off a huge puddle on the floor and I caught the shimmering reflection of the ceremonial sword collection that hung on the wall. What I really wanted was to punch my fist through the door. Why hadn't someone called me? I was supposed to test for my black belt this Saturday. I needed to practice. More than anything, I hated wasting my time. I had my days scheduled down to the minute.

I pulled my cell phone from my pocket so I could rant at Master Thomas for making me come out in the pouring rain for no reason, and quickly realized why no one had called me. My battery was dead and I'd totally forgotten to pick up a new charger since my old one had been accidentally cut in two.

Okay, so my totally bad day was turning into a totally sucky evening. But I refused to give in. I'd make good use of my time. I had a project at home just waiting for me and I could get a new charger in the morning. It's not like I was expecting any calls.

I pulled my dad's old baseball cap down over my eyes and started down the rainswept sidewalk toward Java Joe's. My shoes were soon soaked, though I navigated around all the puddles, and so was I. I positively steamed when I finally made it to the coffee shop and staggered inside, my backpack streaming water.

"Abbey!" the owner said as I wrung the moisture out of my ponytail. "Nice night for a walk?"

"Yeah, Joe," I said. "Right." I grabbed a napkin and wiped the water from my face while he grinned at me. He was gloating. He lived right over the shop; I still had two blocks to go before I got to my place.

"So, how was your day?" he asked as he fixed my usual apple chai.

"Like the weather," I replied. "It sucked."

"Come on, it couldn't have been that bad," he pushed. "What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" I said. The chai felt nice and warm in my hands, and I took a moment to inhale the aroma before I took a drink. "Remember the project I was working on for my design class?"

"Contemporary Cottage?"

"Yeah. My drawings got soaked this morning. The end came off my tube and they fell out when I was getting on the El."

"Ouch."

"Then the bank called and said the title search they did on the property somehow didn't mesh, and now they're doubtful"-I held my hands up and made quotes when I said it-"about financing the property. It's weird because everything was cool when I signed the papers but suddenly they're backtracking on me."

"But you've already been there a month," Joe said.

"Exactly," I agreed. "I've already sunk a fortune into the place. If the bank withdraws the loan I'm screwed. I've maxed out my credit card waiting on them to get their ducks in a row. If they take back this loan my credit will be ruined forever, along with my life."

Banks aren't happy about giving loans to college students. They think we're bad risks. Luckily, my dad left a small insurance policy in my name, something his second wife was unable to get her greasy paws on, and I'd kept it back for collateral.

"Maybe it's the ghosts trying to get rid of you," Joe suggested. A couple dashed inside from the rain, and he turned to serve them.

"Yeah," I muttered. "If only." I took another sip of my chai while Joe finished.

Screwed. That just about covered it. I'd had my eye on this place for over three years. It had taken me three flips to finally be able to afford it. I just knew that the place had great potential, and the fact that it had sat empty for more than fifty years didn't bother me. For some strange reason I was drawn to the house, like we were meant to be together. The bank had to come through; they just had to. Who knew if I'd ever get this chance again? Whoever it was who'd suddenly turned up with some old claim on the property had had plenty of time to claim it before I came along.

I flip houses to pay my tuition. It's kind of risky, but I love it. I find a place that needs some love and attention, put lots of sweat equity into it and then sell for a profit. As long as the place has a sound structure, or "good bones" as I call it, I'm willing to take the chance.

The house I was currently working on had quite a reputation in the historical neighborhood where I found most of my potential flips. I didn't care that it was supposedly inhabited by ghosts. The ghosts were welcome to stay, especially if they wanted to help me hang drywall.

No, I didn't care about the problems. All I cared about was that it could turn a huge profit, even if it did take a lot of work and was "special." I didn't have time to form attachments to anyplace. I had to keep moving, keep flipping, and with luck keep paying for college. I was used to moving. My dad and I had never stayed in one place too long. Being in college had kept me planted here in one place longer than I'd ever lived anywhere in my life.

Between classes during the day, preparing my portfolio in hopes of getting an internship at a reputable architectural firm, and my martial arts hobby, there just wasn't time for banking disasters.

"So, how are the ghosts?" Joe asked when the couple he'd been serving found a corner table for some serious eye-gazing.

"No ghosts," I said. "Not a sign of them. Not unless you count some weird whirring sound."

"Whirring sound?"

"Yeah, kind of like when you turn your bike upside down and spin the wheel real fast, then just sit back and let it wind down...." Okay, so I admit it. I'd been a weird kid. I was always trying to figure out how things worked, spinning wheels and twisting bolts. You know, breaking things down.

Joe laughed. "Can't say that I've ever done that, Abbs. But I get what you're talking about."

I sighed as he turned to start cleaning up a table, and prepared for the last part of my soggy trek home. "So, I'll see you in the morning?" I said. I came in every day for breakfast.

Joe shook his head. "Not me. I'm going snowboarding. Leaving tonight. It might be raining here, but it's snowing in the mountains. My sister's covering for me."

"Lucky," I said. I headed for the door. Joe caught me before I reached it.

"Be careful out there," he said, serious for once. "They found another body today."

"Another?" I asked. A shiver slipped down my spine. There were a lot of homeless people in the neighborhood, and someone was gruesomely murdering them. At first it had been once a month or so that a body turned up, but lately it had gotten to be every week. This would make two in one week.

"I'll watch out," I said, then dashed out the door and crashed into a guy who was on his way in. He was strong. He didn't give much when I hit him, and I staggered back as he caught my arm.

So much for me watching out.

I caught a glimpse of his soaking wet golden blond hair and bright blue eyes as we did the which-side-are-you-going-to-take dance, and my heart did a little flip in my chest. I knew him.

"Sorry," we both said at the same time. He gave me a nice grin as he found the door and then froze.

"Hey, I've seen you on the El," he said.

"Er, yeah," I replied. "I ride it to class every morning." Then I fell silent. I am so bad at small talk.

"And I ride it home from work every morning," he said.

So, we had something in common besides the El. We both suck at small talk. And we both eat at Joe's. I kind of shrugged and gave him the small world, what a coincidence smile. I didn't want to admit that I'd been covertly lusting after him every morning on my way to class. There was no time in my life for a guy, even if he was a major Paul Walker-type hottie. Besides, I was standing in the rain. My shoes were soaked and my backpack seemed heavier, as if it was full of water. I really wasn't at my best.

"So ... I guess I'll see you in the morning," he said.

"Yeah," I replied. "See ya."

"Hey, Doc!" Joe called out as he went in. I took a quick glance through the window. So, the hunky El guy was a doctor? That was interesting.

I took off down the sidewalk at a quick jog. The rain didn't seem so bad at the moment. Apparently Doctor Hunk had noticed me, too. Maybe I should make some time in my life for a guy.

Speaking of guys, my favorite guy Charlie was waiting for me at the door. Charlie is my pound puppy. He's a huge retriever mix who happens to be a great snuggler on cold and rainy nights.

"Hey, Charlie!" I said as I walked in. "No walks tonight," I added. Luckily for Charlie, the first thing I'd installed in the new place was a pet door. He had full access to the tiny backyard, which was surrounded by a ten-foot-high brick wall.

Charlie wagged his tail at my announcement, while holding an old running shoe of mine in his mouth. You could call Charlie a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. He didn't want to go out any more than I did. I did feel a bit guilty, though, about his recent lack of exercise. We'd missed our run this morning and our walk last night. It seemed like it had been raining forever.

"I tell you what, Charlie. We'll spend Sunday afternoon at the park." His tail swished and thumped against the wall of the foyer. I never had to worry about cobwebs with his Dustbuster of a tail around.

I threw my backpack and hat into the corner, kicked off my shoes and hooked my raincoat and hoodie over the banister. Charlie and I both padded into what would someday be a beautiful kitchen but was at the current moment a disaster zone. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and opened a can of food for Charlie, which he swallowed in one bite; then we both went into the gutted room that was supposed to be the parlor.

I've got great vision. I can see what a project will look like when it's done before I even swing a hammer, and I was aching to get a good look at the fireplace that I knew was lurking behind the bricks some idiot had placed about four feet from the side wall in this room. Like I'd guessed, the house had great bones, and it also had some of the most gorgeous woodwork I've ever seen. I just knew there was an antique mantel hiding behind the brick wall; there was a chimney going up the side of the house, and a fireplace directly above this room that was also bricked in.

Charlie went to the wall and whined. Ever since we'd moved in he'd been as fascinated with the wall as I. The worn carpet was shredded where he tried to dig through the floor to get behind the wall. I also had a sneaking suspicion that the weird sound I kept hearing was coming from behind the wall.

Charlie scraped at the floor with his paws and gave me an expectant look.

"I know, boy," I said. "Tonight is the night." I put on my safety goggles, work boots and gloves, and picked up the sledgehammer that sat in the corner. "Tonight we're going to find out what the big mystery is."

Time does not fly when you're swinging a sledgehammer. But at least there was some satisfaction in watching the bricks and mortar come down. My arms ached after a while, so I put the sledge aside and used a crowbar to pry the bricks loose. I made good progress until I ran into a beam that ran from floor to ceiling. The top third of the wall that I'd torn down concealed another brick wall that ran straight back to the exterior wall.

"What the ...?" My contemplation of the insanity of the person who'd built the wall was interrupted by Charlie suddenly going berserk. He ran to the foyer, barking and growling as if we were suddenly under attack.

I gave my heart a second to resume its normal rhythm, then went after him with my crowbar firmly in hand. Charlie stood at the door with his hackles raised and gave out a low growl that made me feel protected but also scared beyond words. I peered through the leaded glass. Thoughts of serial killers crossed my mind.

All I saw was rain pounding against the pavement in the small glowing circle of the streetlamp. Just to make sure, I turned on the porchlight. Charlie gave another low growl and then a huff of disgust.

"All gone, boy?" I asked.

Charlie snuffled around the doorjamb, then walked into the kitchen. I heard his sloppy lapping from his water bowl and gave a sigh of relief.

I checked my watch, surprised to find it was almost eleven. I walked back into the parlor and looked at the mess on the floor. I really needed to clean it up before things got out of hand.

Then I heard the noise: a soft whir that lasted several seconds, followed by a click click click.

It was louder. And it had definitely come from behind the wall.

Charlie heard it, too. He gave out a sharp bark and went back to digging a hole in the carpet.

"Move," I said. At this rate he'd be down to the wood beneath, and the less sanding I had to do, the happier I would be.

I stuck my crowbar in between the beam and the brick and pushed. I'm not sure if I was stronger than I realized or the wall was loose, but I heard a loud creak and, before I could move, a huge section of brick and mortar fell toward me. I jumped back and threw my arm up as I tripped over the mess on the floor. A sharp pain shot up my left arm.

I lay on the ground, muttering. As the dust cleared, I took a quick inventory of all my parts while Charlie did the same. He stuck his nose in my face and nudged away my mask.

"I'm okay," I said. But really I wasn't. I grabbed my arm and realized it was soaked with blood. I pulled up my sleeve and found a long, deep gash that went from my wrist to my elbow. The crowbar lay next to me and blood dripped from the end.

I needed stitches. But more importantly, I needed to stop the bleeding. There was already a big puddle on the floor and the side of my jeans was stained red.

I stood, grabbed my hoodie from the post and wrapped it around my arm. Using the sleeves as a tourniquet, I dug into my coat pocket for my cell phone.

Dead. I'd forgotten it was dead. I looked at the two halves of cord that I'd left lying on the kitchen table. My charger was a victim of one of my projects.

Charlie looked at me with some concern showing in his brown eyes. He gave me a little whine and nudged my leg. I needed to do something before I bled to death. The only option I had was walking the four blocks to the hospital. I had a good chance of bleeding to death either way, but at least by walking I had a chance of hailing a cab or finding a policeman. Stuffing my wrapped arm into the sleeve of my coat, I grabbed my keys and wallet and took off into the rain.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Twist by Colby Hodge Copyright © 2008 by Cindy Holby. Excerpted by permission.
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