Erica knew she was best served by playing dumb. The sheriff had brought a ton of memories to the surface for her. Just the mention of her new name elicited pictures of her parents, her friends and her bedroom. She saw her locker in high school with a hidden fifth of vodka in the back, and some of her favorite hangouts in town. What she couldn't see was her murderer's face or identity. That was usually the last thing to come back to her, and that was a major disadvantage.
"Everything is really fuzzy," she said. "I can hardly remember anything."
Playing the amnesia angle tended to get her a lot of answers.
"You're Erica LaPlante," the sheriff said. "A 16-year-old junior at Treasure High. You're good friends with my daughter."
Erica knew the term "good friends" was pushing it. She and Jennifer were in the same group, but Jennifer was a leftover from the middle school days before Erica's former self started to value popularity above all else. Jennifer was loyal and kind, which is probably one of the reasons the old Erica had tried to put as much distance between the two as possible. Erica thought it was funny how the effort for popularity often resulted in zero true friendships. Winny, Jennifer's cousin, and Beth, another cheerleading queen, were the old Erica's top dogs. They were idiots and spent most of their time inflating each other's egos. That wouldn't serve the new Erica much in her mission.
"Your daughter… Jennifer, right?"
The sheriff patted her on the shoulder.
Erica recalled the last time she'd seen the sheriff in her former life. Her former inhabitant had blacked out from drinking her own supply at a fast food joint. She was puking in the bushes behind the drive-thru window when the sheriff came to hold her hair back. He didn't put the incident on any permanent records, but he did have a long chat with her parents.
"Why do you do this to yourself, Erica?" he'd said.
She didn't recall her response. Erica wished the light souls hadn't put her into a body with an alcohol problem. Past memories would be tougher to come by.
"That's right," Sheriff Norris said. "Jennifer was worried sick. She and your parents led a search party out here. Where were you?"
Erica wondered if the sheriff wanted to hear the truth. She was buried deep enough under that tree that a dozen concerned parents couldn't spot her with their flashlights. She was rotting and dead from a stab wound. Maybe her body would have been found soon, if another world didn't have an alternate purpose for it.
"I don't remember, sheriff."
That's when the vision took over.
Erica saw her true self sitting in a room with her commanders from the light soul army. They all wore armor, as one could never know when the dark souls would hit. The location was the dungeon of an old palace. Crossovers took a great deal of energy and could be seen from miles away, like a bolt of lightning in the sky. If they were going to send her back to the human world, it was important they do it as remotely as possible.
"It's worse than we thought," Gan said.
Gan had recently been appointed the head of the light souls' military efforts. He opted out of any kind of ceremony, seeing as his former commanding officer was killed during a battle. Gan towered over most of the troops, which gave him a certain kind of authority. He was also the foremost expert on the history of both the current war and war in general. Between his massive frame and his vast amount of knowledge, there wasn't much room left for heart.
"We can't get a clear picture, but there were at least two unauthorized crossovers in the last week, both in the same location," he said.
The other officer cleared her throat. Reena could have been a model, if their world had any kind of need for advertising. She possessed the passion Gan lacked. Erica considered Reena a friend, but she wasn't sure if Reena would be able to make the hard decisions – the kind of choices that traded one soul's life for another.
"We have a human body picked out for you," she said. "Strong, beautiful and fast."
"Not fast enough to avoid getting killed in the first place," Erica said. "That's the problem. We can only enter the bodies of people who've already gotten killed. For once, couldn't you put me into someone who was good at staying alive?"
Gan cracked his knuckles.
"You're talking like a dark soul."
Reena quieted her cohort with an outstretched hand.
"She's kidding, Gan. We know you're no longer a stranger to these lands, and you've learned how things work. You need help for this mission and we're going to send it."
Erica was intrigued.
"A living soul," she said. "You don't trust I can handle the mission myself."
Gan fidgeted and cracked his knuckles on his other hand. The living soul was the best weapon they had on the human world. On any world.
"It's the first unauthorized crossover in a decade," Gan said. "Two of them in a short time could easily become four, which could then become a hundred. We need to act quickly."
A knowing grin appeared on Reena’s face.
"We'll be sending you and activating the living soul at the same time to keep the dark souls unaware. It'll be up to you to find him and train him."
Erica had worked with a living soul on three separate occasions. Two out of three missions went well, but the other one… not so much.
"Are you sure this one can handle the power?"
Gan cleared his throat.
"Reena and the council have convinced me to change our selection criteria," he said. "More than fighting ability alone will be considered."
Erica nodded.
"When do I go?"
"Now, if you're ready."
She stood up and saluted the other officers.
"I promise to uphold the standard of the light souls on another world. Protect and Preserve."
"Protect and Preserve," the others said in unison.
When Erica came to, the sheriff was carrying her toward the edges of the forest. She saw the fence not 10 feet away when she coughed herself back awake.
"Are you OK?" he said. "You scared me again back there."
The sheriff sounded out of breath.
"Yeah. I'm OK to walk."
He placed her down on her feet and put his hands on his knees.
"I didn't bring – my phone. Carrying you was the only – I need a minute."
The sheriff sat down on a chair-sized rock. Erica felt guilty. She usually got the vision before anyone even realized she was alive. She sat down next to the sheriff.
"I'm really sorry, sheriff," she said. "I'm weak. I haven't eaten. I'm sure that's what it was."
Erica looked out beyond the fence. She saw the entrance to a housing development far off in the distance. Erica already remembered seven developments by name in their small, overcrowded town. Each development had expertly manicured suburban lawns, playgrounds with the latest equipment and about eight popular chain stores within driving distance. While the houses in each development were different colors and their owners did their best to distinguish one building from the other, they all looked the same to her. Maybe that's why the old Erica wanted to escape. There was too much blending in to stand out.
"Why were you in the woods, sheriff?"
"I know there are a lot of stories, but it's pretty peaceful out here. When I'm here, I can turn my brain off and get back to nature."
The sheriff had already carried her what seemed like a quarter of a mile. She appreciated the effort, but knew she needed more from him than that.
"If you really want to turn your brain off," she said, placing her hands on the side of Sheriff Norris' head, "maybe you can let me borrow it for a little while."
"Erica, I–"
A light shot out of Erica's hands and went through the sheriff's skull. He screamed and his dog howled in unison.