Odyssey Bourne Force

Chapter 2: Kate

November 2004

"Aaargh," Kate screamed awake, sweat pouring off her. It was almost the same damn dream, night after night. Like a serial soap opera, growing into a repetitive horror film with more details added to each episode.

Who the hell was the woman in her dreams and all the faces that were cast in shadow?

She rolled out of bed and stared in her mirror.

The only pair of red eyes she could see was blood shot from a late night.

Kate Louise Willard, at the prime age of forty, was a lovely, voluptuous, dark eyed beauty, with soft patrician features framed by long wavy dark hair, which she almost always wore loose. She possessed a quick sense of humor, seasoned with occasional cynicism, sometimes gravitating to sarcasm. Her pragmatic, at times stolid, view on life never allowed her to think she was beautiful-that was for the vain and shallow.

Divorced and alone, two rag doll cats, peach schnapps, sci-fi television shows, and romantic novels, which she used as a form of escapism, were her only company. She worked at home tackling people's business accounts, which gave her total independence, as she preferred the safe home life.

Her one unsuccessful marriage still carried a bitter taste, as her ex could not help himself when it came to women. His betrayal hurt her deeply.

Discovering single life at twenty-five, she stepped into a plethora of dates, which sadly, over the years, all resulted in bitter disappointment and turned Kate off. They would beg to come back, but she always refused. Kate could not stand disloyalty and feeble insecurity.

She kept hearing her late mother's wise words: "Twenty is too young to be married Katherine." Huh, the beauty of hindsight.

Sorry, Mum. I should have listened. I've learned my lesson. Men are all the same. You'll be pleased to know I'll be single forever, as now I'm too old!

She smirked at her reflection reciting, "Youth is a gift of nature. Age is a work of art."

Apart from occasional outings with her gal pals, the only other social element in her life was singing Friday nights with a band at a local nightclub, which also afforded her a "jolly good workout." She had a following of fans, male and female, but she made a pact with herself to remain impervious, especially from the male species. Potential boyfriends always kept at arm's length, which was her subliminal safety barrier. As far as Kate was concerned, Mr. Right was nowhere in sight, and she had given up looking for him. Why keep getting involved, going through the motions, and end up getting your heart blasted into pieces?

The recurring dreams had haunted her for almost three months, and she feared they were growing stronger.

Until, in a momentous epiphany, she stated to her mirror, "I'm destined to be more than what I am now!" She did not know why she had said that. A shiver went up her spine as her mind opened to the implications of this simple mono statement.

With coffee in hand, it was 6:00 a.m., ready to start another routine, somewhat boring day at her PC. "This is driving me nuts!"

Instead of beginning her client's accounts, she began to write about her ominous dreams. "Leah is such a cute name."

When she looked at the clock, it was 1:30 p.m. Her stomach rumbled. Stretching and running her hands through her hair, Kate made her way to the kitchen to conjure up some toasted sandwiches.

Oblivious to the ground shattering her favorite coffee cup, a frightening vision hit her-totally awake with her eyes wide open. One minute she was looking through an open kitchen window, the next was like looking in a mirror with her own face in shadow. A deep, gravelly voice spoke, ordering her to carry out a specific task she must complete or humanity would not survive.

The voice was barely audible, as if there was interference like a garbled radio signal in her mind.

After that, and a belly load of peach schnapps, Kate considered either going to a shrink or giving up on those late night horror flicks. "This is not normal," she kept scornfully telling herself.

This was far out!

Nevertheless, the task was even more bizarre in its simplicity, and scary in the sense that she could not make any sense out of it at all.

The voice had told her to go shopping.