Return to Blackmont Ridge

Chapter 1It was three A.M. Monday night, or technically Tuesday morning, Tom supposed, and he was wide awake. Annoyingly so as he was exhausted but sleep wasn’t happening. Finally giving up, he got out of bed after fighting through the tangled covers and, without turning on any lights, snagged his bathrobe before going onto the balcony outside of his living room. The cool air, verging on cold, felt good. Resting his arms on the railing, he savored the quiet with no traffic noises—even though the condo’s living room faced a main street which was always busy well into the evening. No one was out walking either that he could see. Too late, or early, even for the dog-walkers who were a prominent part of the neighborhood starting at dawn. Looking up, he smiled when he saw a few stars studding the sky where it wasn’t covered with thin clouds. Several minutes later, feeling as if he finally might be able to sleep, he started to turn away. Then he saw a figure slip from behind the thick trunk of a large tree across the street. He, because Tom thought it was a young man from his size and build, hurried across the street toward the low wall which enclosed the patio at the front of the building. A sneak thief? Tom frowned. There had been a couple of them who had targeted the building before the HOA installed cameras on all the entrances, with signs announcing they were there. Intrigued when the guy crept behind a bush next to the wall, thus shielding himself from both the streetlight and the lights that lit the patio, Tom decided to do a bit of investigation. He got his keys from the table beside the front door, locked his place, and took the elevator down to the lobby. He opened the door, stepped into the entryway, then waited for it to close before opening the front door. He eased it shut behind him and padded toward the wall and the bush, treading carefully since he was barefooted. With one hand on the wall, he leaned over. Below him, crouching beside a backpack, was his quarry. He reached down to grab the collar of his ragged jacket, tugging it gently and then a bit harder. * * * * Gib let out a low growl when someone tried to haul him upright. He attempted to free himself, to no avail. Whoever had hold of his jacket was gripping it tightly as they lifted up. “Let me go!” he ordered, although he was pretty certain it wouldn’t happen. “Shh,” a man said. “You don’t want to wake the neighbors. Someone might decide to call the cops, given the hour.” With a nod, Gib acknowledged the man’s words. “Why do you care?” he asked, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “Damned if I know,” the man replied. He did let go of Gib’s collar at that point. “Are you homeless or I suppose the PC term now is unhoused?” “Does it look like I am?” Gig replied scathingly. “Well, now that you mention it…” The man shrugged. “Good.” “Good? That’s a good thing?” “Yeah.” Gib debated momentarily before asking, “You live there?” He nodded toward the condo complex behind them although he knew the answer. “No, I always wander the neighborhood, barefooted, at three in the morning.” “Okay. I asked for that.” Gib gave him a dry smile as he got up to sit on the wall. “You got a name?” “Yep. Do you?” “I asked first.” The man laughed quietly. “That was childish. I’m Tom.” “Gib,” Gib replied. “Is that a street name, I think it’s called?” “We’ll go with that for now.” Gib looked at the houses across the street from them. No lights showed, which didn’t surprise him. That still didn’t mean one of the owners wasn’t hiding behind a curtain, watching them, or at least the street. “I should split,” he told Tom. * * * * “And I should get back to bed and hope I can sleep,” Tom replied. He’d noted Gib’s interest in the houses and felt compelled to say, “If you’re thinking of trying to rob one them, don’t. Most of them have security up the wazoo from what I’ve heard.” “Me? A thief?” Gib grinned, revealing a perfect set of even, white teeth. Not what Tom would have expected in someone who was homeless. But then he wasn’t at all certain he bought the fact Gib claimed he was. Or I guess that he didn’t deny it. He was dressed for the part, and if Tom hadn’t taken a closer look, he might have thought he was barely out of his teens. It was only a feeling, not something he could put a finger on, but he was certain Gib, if that was his name, was at least in his mid-twenties. “Not saying you are. Not saying you’re not. It was only an observation, given the late hour,” Tom replied to Gib’s words. “Says the man who’s keeping me company. If you weren’t wearing a bathrobe and barefooted I might wonder why you’re out here.” Gib c****d his head in question. “Insomnia. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does…” Tom shook his head. “They say reading a boring book is a good cure. It’ll knock you right out. Or milk and honey and two—” Suddenly Gib slid off the wall, crouching between it and the bush. It took Tom a second to figure out why. Then he saw a patrol car coming down the street. He willed it to keep going and failed. It pulled up to the curb, the officer rolled down his window and called out “Are you all right, sir?” “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Couldn’t sleep so I came outside to see if some fresh air would help.” The officer glanced up at the balconies, which every unit above the ground floor had, and then back at Tom. “It’s safer if you do it from your place, especially at this hour of the night. We’ve had reports of some homeless people wandering around the area.” “Unhoused,” Tom muttered. “I doubt they’d bother me. If they tried I’d be inside before they could do anything.” He held up the key fob that activated the entry system. “Maybe. Anyway, why don’t you go back to your condo? It would make us feel better.” Tom saluted and turned toward the front entrance. From the corner of his eye he watched the patrol car move on. As soon as it was out of sight he returned to where Gib was hiding. “All clear.” “Yeah, I see. Thanks for not letting them know I’m here.” “No problem.” Tom paused, then said, wondering if he was crazy, “Look, if you want, there’s a restroom off the lobby. You could stay there until morning. It would be safer for you than out here.” “You aren’t afraid I’ll try to break into some of the units?” “They come with basic security so you’d be an i***t to try.” “I’ve been called that more than once.” Gib winked. “If you really mean it, I appreciate the offer. I promise to behave.” “Come on, then.” Tom waited until Gib got his backpack before heading to the entryway. He activated the door to the lobby using the fob and held it open so Gib could enter. “I take it I don’t need one of those to get out of here,” Gib said. “Nope. I think that would be against fire regulations or something. The restroom’s there.” Tom pointed to the door. “You can leave the way we came in or by the rear door around the corner at the end of the hallway.” Again, he pointed to show where he meant. “Thanks. I appreciate this.” “Then prove it and don’t do anything you shouldn’t.” Gib chuckled. “Me? Never.” He went into the restroom while Tom walked to the elevator across from the front entrance. “Let’s hope I didn’t make a damned stupid mistake letting him in,” Tom said under his breath as he pushed the ‘Up’ button. The door immediately opened—no surprise, as he’d been the last one to use it when he came down from his place. He didn’t think it was a mistake, but he supposed time would tell. * * * * Gib waited until he heard the elevator doors open and close before leaving the restroom. With a cautious look around to make certain no one was about, he walked to the elevator and checked the numbers above the door to see where it had ended up, which was the fourth floor. Calling it back down, he rode it to the fifth floor, then walked down one flight. Stepping into the hallway, he stood perfectly still…listening. He knew which one was Tom’s unit, and that it faced the front of the building; otherwise Tom wouldn’t have spotted him to begin with. He walked down the right arm of the ‘U’ shaped hallway and came to a stop in front of Tom’s door. He smiled when he heard a toilet flush, running water, and then a grumbled, “If I can’t sleep now I’m shooting myself,” coming from inside. He knocked lightly, got no response, and tried again a bit harder. The door opened, revealing a surprised and very wary Tom. “What the hell. How did you find me?” “I’m clever that way. May I come in?” “Why?” “Because? Because you don’t want to wake your neighbors by our standing here talking? Because you’re curious about why I’m here? Because…?” Gib shrugged and gave Tom his friendliest, I’m harmless smile. * * * * With a sigh, Tom stepped aside to let him in. Gib closed the door then looked around when Tom turned on the overhead light in the living room. “Not bad digs.” “I like them. Wouldn’t have bought the place if I didn’t,” Tom replied tersely. He debated suggesting Gib take a seat, decided he probably would anyway, and found out he was correct when the man strolled across to the armchair opposite the sofa and sat, putting his backpack down beside him. Tom settled on the sofa, studying Gib when he had. There was something about him that bothered Tom. The problem was, he couldn’t put a finger on what. He was certain it had nothing to do with the fact he might be either homeless or a sneak thief or both. After a brief silence he said, “All right, why are you here?” Gib pressed his hands together. Hands that were, in Tom’s estimation, remarkably clean for someone who was dressed in the tattered clothes of a street person. Sure, he could have washed them before he came up here, and his face, but…He pictured Gib as he’d first seen him and realized he’d been just as clean then. “It’s time for you to come home,” Gib said, gazing at Tom with quiet intensity. Tom looked at him in surprise. “I am home, in case it escaped your attention.” “No. This is a place, a world, if you will, that you created for yourself because you couldn’t accept what happened to you.” Tom smacked his hand on the arm of the sofa. “Feels real enough to me.” “I didn’t mean to imply that it isn’t. But it’s not your world. The one you grew up in.” “Uh-huh. So what am I, an extra-terrestrial who was banished to earth for some infraction of the laws of my…my planet or alien universe?” Tom snorted, wondering if he’s finally fallen asleep and was dreaming. He pinched his arm. Nope, not dreaming. Gib obviously caught what Tom did and grinned. “No, you’re awake. You’re also not an alien. You are, however, what people consider a supernatural being.” “Good lord. Have you been reading my books, thought they were nonfiction, and decided I must be a shifter or vampire or what have you to have written them?” “I’ve read a couple. They’re quite good, actually, and close to the truth. To me that says you are unintentionally, unknowingly channeling your past, even though you’ve managed to bury it deep in your subconscious.” “You are f*****g out of your mind!” Tom declared, springing to his feet, his hands clenched. “Get the hell out of here!” While Tom glared at him, Gib seemed to think about his request before getting up and slinging the backpack over one shoulder. As he walked to the door he said, “Consider two things, Cailean and Blackmont.” With that, he left, closing the door behind him. Tom was relieved to see him go, even as he wondered what the hell Cailean and Blackmont meant and how they related to him. He was certain they did, or at least Gib thought as much. He checked the time, saw that it was almost four A.M., and debated staying up or trying once more to get some sleep. He looked at his computer, which sat on the desk, with bookcases on either side, along one wall of his home office. The office was supposed to have been a dining room, thus it was visible through the arch at one side of the living room. He’d decided when he bought the condo that having an office, because he was a professional writer, was more important than needing a special place to eat his meals. After all, he rarely had company, and never for dinner.