[Nightmusic 01.0] Serenade

by Heather McKenzie

  Only the relay racers passed us now, and it often felt like it was just Davis and I out there on the mountain. When we started our descent toward the river and through thick pines, our flashlights barely broke through the darkness. We held on to each other for strength and reassurance. Faced with another fork in the trail, I pulled out my map so Davis could inhale his peanut butter sandwich. “My map says to go straight,” I said after careful consideration.

  To the right was a loop that would lead us right back to the entrance of the cave, to the left was a trail to nowhere, and the middle was the path to the river and the Ferryman. Two racers passed us and took the path to the left. I was about to yell that they were going the wrong way, but Davis shushed me—he thought it was funny. Another racer didn’t bother to look at his map, either, and he also went to the left.

  “Dumb kids, they always go the wrong way,” said a deep, gruff voice from somewhere in the dark.

  I steadied my flashlight beam on a man sitting in a lawn chair next to a cooler of water bottles. If he hadn’t spoken, we would never have noticed him—his neon vest wasn’t bright like the ones the other volunteers wore.

  “It’s not that hard to follow a map,” he said. “Oh well, I guess they’ll figure it out when they get down there and have to come all the way back. That’s why I’m here with extra water… for the idiots.”

  “So, the middle path is the one to take?” asked Davis.

  “Well, yeah, it says so on your map, doesn’t it? And didn’t you walk these trails before you came?” he asked in a tone that made us both feel instantly dumb.

  “Uh, no, I didn’t know you could do that,” Davis said with a tinge of embarrassment.

  The man rustled around in the cooler, hood slipping slightly to reveal a mass of thinning, grey hair. “Well, here, take some extra H2O and get crackin’, then,” he said gruffly, holding out two bottles of water.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I said as I reached for them.

  I wished I could see his face a little better, because something about him was familiar, but I didn’t want to rudely shine my light into his eyes. Instead, I gratefully downed most of the water he’d given us while Davis tucked his away in his pack.

  Then we headed down the middle pathway.

  But it felt wrong. Branches whipped our faces. Thankfully, the mandatory protective glasses allowed us to keep our sights on the flashlight beams. As we made our way toward the river, the path thinned and became so overgrown that we had to walk single file. “Maybe that water guy was confused,” I said after we had been descending steadily downhill for what seemed like forever. I was starting to feel dizzy, and the freezing in my foot was wearing off. A throb from deep inside the wound was becoming unbearable.

  “Nope,” Davis said, breathing a little heavier now. “We both read the map, Kaya. We’re on the right path. Besides, here’s a marker.”

  A post with neon-orange paint reassured us that we were going the right way, but we still came upon no racers and no one had passed us for at least forty minutes. It just felt all wrong. I was about to suggest that we turn back, but the river came into view, sparkling through the trees in the moonlight.

  “See, we made it!” said Davis, just as relieved as I was. “Got your coin?”

  I had checked for that coin a thousand times, but I did so again. My fingertips tingled when I handed it to Davis. I was struggling with a feeling of vertigo but didn’t want to alarm him. Maybe I was dehydrated; I guzzled the rest of the water.

  We made our way across the pebbled riverbed to where a small, yellow dingy was pulled halfway onto the beach. The moon lit up the area and the ominous figure of the Ferryman as he awaited his passengers. A long, black cloak floated around his huge frame, and a hood concealed most of his face.

  “This is exciting, Kaya!” said Davis. “I never thought we would get this far, but we are so close to the end!”

  “I know; I can’t believe it. I must admit, I feel like crap mountain, though. Your Rockstar Juice has worn off.”

  He grabbed my hand, and we dragged our weary bodies up to the boat, the rocks beneath us killing my foot with every step. We eagerly offered our coins to the upturned palm of the Ferryman.

  “Here’s your fare, sir,” said Davis happily.

  The Ferryman shone a flashlight onto our faces and the coins were taken from us both. “Only one at a time,” he said. “Ladies first.”

  His voice gave me the chills. It didn’t mix well with the fuzzy feeling in my head.

  “Uh no, sorry sir, but I travel with her, those are our rules,” Davis said.

  The boat jiggled slightly as The Ferryman stood straight as an arrow, his large figure looming over us from the boat. “Well you can follow your rules and wade across, or follow the rules of the game like everyone else,” he said irritably.

  “Sorry, the girl stays with me.” Davis was adamant. I didn’t think he realized how forcefully his fingers were digging into mine. I winced.

  “Please, make an exception, sir,” I said politely.

  The coins were offered back. The Ferryman was taking his volunteer job very seriously, and I didn’t want to end up not finishing the race because Davis was stubborn.

  “It’s okay, Davis. I’ll be fine,” I said, turning to face Davis, his angst evident in the bright moonlight. “Don’t make an issue outta this.” His fingers tightened even more around mine. “Really, it’s okay. I’m a big girl, ya know. Besides, there are probably a dozen of them surrounding us right now,” I whispered.

  The Ferryman shifted uneasily, and the boat swayed like a big, comfy waterbed. I wanted nothing more than to get in and sit down. My legs were starting to shake.

  “Listen, nothing is going to happen to anyone going across,” the Ferryman said loudly, “I’ll make sure of it. Now, get in lady, and I’ll be back for you in five minutes, sir.”

  Davis reluctantly let go. “Don’t you move an inch once you get across. Don’t even blink until I’m next to you. Promise me,” he said anxiously.

  “Yes of course, I promise. Geez, relax.” I gave him a quick hug, and then I climbed into the boat, grateful to sit down. My legs were tingling as if they were on pins and needles. I removed my backpack and let it drop to the floor along with the last of my energy.

  “So, what’s your name, miss?” said the Ferryman as we pushed away from the shore. I caught a glimpse of his cold eyes, and suddenly I felt wildly uneasy… he looked sinister with the moonlight reflecting off the water behind him and the stupid outfit on.

  “My name is Katy Adams,” I choked out and waved to Davis’s fading outline on the shore.

  We moved swiftly into the darkness. I thought the boat would just go across the river to the other side, but the Ferryman fired up the motor, and we began moving upstream. I suddenly wished I had stayed with Davis and asked timidly if we were going the right way. The Ferryman laughed, so I told myself I was being silly and worrying about nothing.

  I relaxed into the rubber boat and looked up at the stars, wishing Oliver were here to admire them with me. I looked for Orion’s Belt, our favorite constellation to gaze upon in the night sky, but I found it hard to focus. The twinkling lights started to blur, and my tongue was tingling too. I fought to keep my eyes open. I was so tired, but it was a strange and dizzy kind of tired…

  Something clicked loudly and the floor of the boat quivered. I couldn’t focus or move. I couldn’t speak, either; my voice seemed to be… stuck. I pried my eyes open just long enough to see the Ferryman coming toward me with something in his hands. There was a sharp pain in my arm, and then the stars disappeared completely.

  “Oliver Bennet—sir, please wake up,” said an impatient, squeaky voice, and the acrid smell of tobacco breath wafted up my nose. I opened my eyes to a pimply faced girl staring at me with a clipboard in her hand. She was chewing gum and making that disgusting popping sound with her tongue. “Mr. Bennet, you may leave now.”

  Leave? I was wildly disoriented. I tried to sit
up, but a sharp pain in my ribs stole my breath.

  The girl adjusted her cat-eye glasses, and then she handed me a piece of paper. “The doctor has given you a prescription for pain—take one every four hours, but don’t overdo it. Those things can mess ya up if you’re not careful,” she said, then scurried away.

  Mint-green walls, fluorescent lighting, the smell of bleach—I was in a hospital, laying on a bed among many others in a long hallway. A crumpled white sheet partially covered my bare chest, and the pungent smell of antiseptic clung to my skin. A red sign that read “X-Ray” was above a wide door where I vaguely remembered a doctor explaining to me that there was nothing they could do for my cracked rib. I must have passed out again after that.

  Wide-strip bandages were wrapped tightly around my chest, and dots of blood had already seeped through. Sitting up wasn’t easy; it felt as if an imaginary knife twisted sadistically in my bones. I took in shallow breaths as I put on the shirt that had been neatly laid out at my feet.

  At least my lungs were clear and my head didn’t feel so strange anymore. I’d hiked in the mountains many times and had experienced altitude sickness—this was different. I knew the insane dizziness and disorientation couldn’t have been from that. It was almost like I’d been drugged.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed and steadied myself, blinking at the shiny white floor while trying to put together the events of the last few hours. Bits and pieces were missing after the old man had kicked me in the chest. Mark Reicht had helped Kaya up to the top, and that blonde bandaged me up and gave me water, then everything after that was a blur.

  A familiar sound buzzed in my pocket. I fished out the tiny radio link to Davis and clumsily put it in my ear. His voice blasted frantically from the earpiece.

  “Oliver, are you there? Oliver!”

  The stark hallway bustled with action for a brief second—a doctor moving swiftly, a man on a cell phone leaving a room—and then I was alone again. I was relieved to hear Davis’ voice. Maybe he could explain a few things. “Hey, yeah, it’s me,” I replied, suddenly realizing how agonizingly thirsty I was, “how’s it going it out there?”

  There was an eerie pause before he answered. “Oliver—it’s Kaya…”

  He sounded scared, like something was wrong. My heart jumped. “Hey, you’re breaking up. What’s going on? Is she okay?” I asked.

  “No.” I heard Davis gulp. “I’m so sorry, Oliver. She’s missing.”

  Surely, I’d misunderstood him. She couldn’t be missing… “What did you say?”

  “I think she’s—been kidnapped.”

  There was no misunderstanding that… but it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. I was in a dream. What Davis was saying wasn’t real… Wake up…

  “I let her out of my sight for—I didn’t want to, but—” he was saying.

  The hallway started to close in, and my head started to spin. I leaned forward to steady myself and my ribs protested, as if screaming in pain. I fought to breathe while Davis kept blathering.

  “She had a different map—it led us right to them and into a trap… the blonde… she drugged you, I think, tried to drug me, too—the Ferryman—a boat, and then someone shot me with a tranquilizer—I was out for hours… Henry knows she’s missing. I’m almost at the hospital… just wanted to be the one to tell you first.”

  “How long has she been gone?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “At least four-and-a-half hours.”

  I pulled out the earpiece and let it drop to the ground. Nothing could have prepared me for this. The thought of Kaya scared, hurt, or being touched by someone else shook me to the core. I sat paralyzed on the edge of the metal bed, staring at the earpiece as it faintly buzzed. The universe began to push down on my shoulders with such crushing force it rendered my body useless. Panic crept in. I had only felt like this once before and was unable to do a damn thing about it; the strength to overcome wasn’t in me, and I watched them die—I was frozen with fear as I helplessly watched my whole family die…

  Never again would I lose someone I loved.

  The thought turned my fear into rage—blood-boiling, blinding rage. It was the simplest and only emotion that would free my mind from this immobilizing state. I stood up and slammed the earpiece with my foot, stomping on it repeatedly until it turned to dust, and then grabbed the arm of a wheelchair, picked it up as if it weighed nothing at all, and threw it down the hall. A satisfyingly loud crash echoed off the walls. I clenched my hands into fists and searched for something else—anything else—to destroy… I would pummel the brick wall until both it and my hands turned to pulp…

  “Stop it!” shouted a stern, female voice from behind me.

  It was a voice that demanded my full attention. Through the haze of my anger, I turned to see Sindra calmly standing there, hands on her hips, wearing a trench coat wrapped tight around her tiny figure. With all the willpower I could muster, I forced my arms to stay at my sides—this small but mighty woman could end me with a snap of her fingers.

  “Hitting things probably isn’t a good idea. You might need your hands to find your fiancée,” she said, and then she stopped a male nurse from coming to sedate me. “Now stand down, Oliver.”

  I obediently uncurled my fists—I was programmed to. Sindra, although only a few years older than me, ruled my life with her words. No matter what was going on in my head, I had no choice but to obey her—and I was fine with that.

  “Take a deep breath,” she said.

  I did that too, steadying myself against the metal bed as pain ripped through my chest with each lungful. “You have to get me out there right now, Sindra. I have to find her,” I said, unable to stop my voice from cracking.

  “Look at me, Oliver.”

  I tried to focus on her face—dark brown eyes, brown skin, beautiful as if lit by the moon, black hair long and shiny like Kaya’s—and a lump rose in my throat. My arms felt like lead, and my eyes fell to my idle hands, fingernails still dirty with mud from the bog.

  “Get yourself under control, or I’ll sedate you myself,” she ordered.

  I nodded my compliance.

  “Now, Henry is organizing a team, and he wants you involved. Are you well enough to leave here?”

  I nodded again. Sindra eyed the prescription given to me by the gum-chewing nurse and tossed it in the trash. “Don’t bother with that crap; it wouldn’t quell pain for an infant. This is all you need,” she said and handed me a little blue bottle with Lowen Pharmaceuticals clearly printed on the cap.

  I tipped it to my mouth and crushed the pills violently between my teeth. Sindra looked around, and then in a rare display of weakness, she took a few herself. Leading the way, I followed her blindly to the exit and through the lobby filled with people in wheel chairs and half-open dressing gowns. For a moment, I thought I might be sick, until the cold air wafting through the hospital doors took my breath. Outside, a limo was waiting in the half-empty parking lot, and Davis was leaning on the hood, nervously smoking. The early-morning light illuminated his weary face.

  “Please don’t beat the crap out of me,” he said morosely, blowing a thick, white cloud of cigarette smoke into the air, his eyes brimming with tears.

  There was no way I would hurt this man. He had become like a brother to me. I knew in my heart that what happened wasn’t his fault, but I had to stay controllably angry; it was the only thing keeping me from being completely useless. “I should beat the crap outta you,” I growled, cracking my knuckles to keep my hands busy.

  He swayed nervously. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back, Oliver. I love her like a sister.” He stomped out the cigarette, and then put a fresh one to his lips with trembling hands. “I’ll do anything you want me to do—anything.” In one long drag, he turned half the cigarette to ash.

  “Well first, you can quit with the damn smokes!” I yelled and slapped the cancer stick out of his mouth.

  He sighed and tossed the rest of the pack into a garba
ge can where a man with one shoe promptly fished them out. “Whatever it takes, Oliver. I’ll do whatever it takes to find her. I just hope Henry has a plan.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have my own,” I said.

  “Which is…”

  I stared anxiously at the snowy peaks surrounding the town, the rising sun lighting the tips of them like candles. “I will tear these mountains apart until I find her, or die trying.”

  Davis put his hand out to shake mine. “I’m down for that.”

  I wasn’t dead. I knew this because I was freezing and everything hurt—every muscle, bone, and toe—I could feel them, but I couldn’t move them. I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. It was as if they were glued shut. I tried to raise a hand to pry them open, but my arms wouldn’t cooperate. My toes wouldn’t wiggle, my knees wouldn’t bend, and my tongue wouldn’t shift around behind my teeth. What the hell was happening?

  Relax. Don’t panic. Breathe… that seems to be working just fine… breathe… try again…

  Fingers. Toes. Tongue. Nothing.

  I was paralyzed.

  Okay, now panic.

  I tried desperately to scream, but I couldn’t even swallow. Was this hell, or was I caught in a strange deep sleep that I couldn’t wake from? I could tell my body was moving, at least. My arm was swinging, and from the amount of liquid in my nose, I wondered if I was upside down. Maybe I was buried alive. Maybe I couldn’t move because the earth was holding me down… but there was heat on my cheek and chest. I would be cold head to toe if I was in the ground.

  I’d heard stories about people under anesthesia who could feel everything happening to them, but their bodies were immobilized—was that happening to me? Was I in surgery? There were people around me, for sure; I heard their heavy breathing, and I could smell them. I could hear the swishing sound of jacketed arms, the crunching of debris under heavy footsteps, and a cell phone ringing.