by Rysa Walker
“Put the girl down,” the guard says. “Or I’ll—” A dark spot appears on the man’s forehead before he finishes the threat, and he falls backward into the dust.
I do look behind me then, just in time to see Jasper Hawkins fire twice at Graham Cregg.
Both bullets catch Cregg in the chest. Behind him, the helicopter is now listing to one side, spinning on a single skid, almost like a pirouette.
Cregg’s wheelchair jolts backward from the force of the bullets, but then he begins moving this way. His eyes are fixed on Jasper, and his look of shock morphs into a tiny smile.
I remember that expression. It’s the same one Cregg was wearing as he forced Deo to point the gun toward his own temple back at The Warren.
Something hard and cold crashes into my head. Once. Twice.
I fall to the ground, and so do my walls. Bree grabs my wrist, still slick with blood from her teeth. She’s screaming Hunter’s name as the wheel of Cregg’s chair hits my thigh. I raise one hand, hoping to push the wheel away, but connect instead with the side of Graham Cregg’s foot.
An odd sensation, almost like an electrical current, flows through me from one arm to the other, filling my body. My head.
A child—Hunter? Or is it Bree?—speaks a single word.
Yes!
And then everything goes black and silent.
Something is poking me in the stomach. It’s small and sharp. I want to move away from it, but moving makes my head hurt. Which is unfortunate, because the entire bed seems to be shaking.
It takes a few minutes, but my eyes finally begin to adjust to the light. Small fragments of memory start falling into place.
Jasper shooting Cregg.
The helicopter spinning out of control.
Something bashing me in the head.
Aaron’s face, as he kneels over me.
And then another face. Dr. Batra.
Needles. I remember needles. Ugh.
Slowly I work my hand up to my head and feel a bandage. The movement causes the pointy thing to jab my stomach again, so I reach underneath me and grab it. Orange, sharp. It takes a second to place it as a broken Dorito.
“Oh. Sorry,” Taylor says as I drop the chunk onto the floor. “Thought I got them all. If you’re going to move, you should probably do so slowly.”
“I’m not going to move.”
“Good call.”
I open my eyes a bit more, but the room is too bright for that to be comfortable. “What time is it? And where are we?”
“A little after seven, and hell if I know. Pretty sure we’re still in New York, though. Aaron is hopped up on Red Bull and 5-hour ENERGY, but he’s starting to fade. He’s looking for a place to stop now. We all need sleep.”
I start to protest that I just woke up, but my brain is so foggy that I could easily fall asleep again. “Deo. How is—”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to move!” Taylor says as I sink my head back into the pillow. “Deo is better. A lot better. I gave him a second set of injections about an hour ago. His fever is a little over a hundred. The doctor said we’ll treat the symptoms for now, and hopefully whatever is causing the problem will resolve over time. Do you want something to drink?”
She brings me back some water. When I finish, she asks, “How much do you remember?”
“Jasper shot Cregg. Is he dead?”
“Yes,” Taylor says. “Along with three of his guards and one of Magda’s security people.”
“Something hit me after that. It was . . . I’m pretty sure it was Jasper’s gun. Why?”
“Good question. Jasper says he wasn’t in control when that happened. That it was Cregg. And Maria poked around in his head a bit. She thinks he’s telling the truth. Do you remember coming back to the RV? Getting stitches?”
“I have a vague memory of needles. There were gunshots outside. And the helicopter . . . was spinning out of control.”
Taylor shrugs. “I wouldn’t say it was out of control. It just wasn’t under the control of a pilot. Moving the thing took a concerted effort on the part of two of the adepts, but it provided a useful diversion and knocked out one of Cregg’s men.”
I have many more questions about that, but I push them aside for now. “Bree. The other kids. Was anyone else injured?”
“None of the kids. The guy who runs the airfield took a bullet in the thigh, but he’s okay. Magda had already paid him a good bit to open the place, and I’m pretty sure that she had to sweeten the pot considerably to get him to forget all of this.”
“But . . . they’ll have to call the police, right? There were bodies. Cregg.”
“An agreement was reached,” Taylor says. “Magda will handle her guy. And two of Cregg’s guards were allowed to leave, as long as they took Cregg’s and the guards’ bodies back to The Pit with them. I guess they’ll bury them there. The younger guard went back to Sandalford with the others.”
“Snoop?”
“Yeah. Spying piece of . . .” Taylor huffs and shakes her head. “Anyway, Magda called a few hours ago to say they’d gotten all of the adepts to Sandalford safely.”
“A few hours ago? I thought you said it was a little after seven?”
“She still seems to be on London time. Deo got a text from Kelsey, checking on you, so I’m guessing Magda has her up too, getting the new adepts settled.”
My eyelids are growing heavy, but Taylor’s voice pulls me back from sleep. “Aaron told me what Daniel said when he was trying to get Ashley to leave with us. That using his power again might mean—”
“He didn’t use it at the airfield. I’m not even sure he was awake.”
“Is he . . . ?”
I turn my attention inward, which isn’t exactly easy with my current state of brain fuzz. It’s almost like I’m looking through a fog.
Once my vision begins to clear, I see that my mind cottage is a mess. Bricks are scattered everywhere. Apparently having something crack my skull had a similar effect on my walls. The file cabinets are still there . . . the plain gray-green ones near the back. Molly’s purple cabinet near the front. And a new addition—deep forest green—next to it for Jaden. I’m glad to see that my subconscious has given him a nice cabinet, maybe to make up for the fact that he had to hang out looking like a victim of the zombie apocalypse for so long.
Myron’s corner is still walled off, although, like the rest of the place, it took some damage. Most of the warning signs that I posted there to keep Daniel away are now scattered on the ground along with chunks of brick and powdered mortar. I want to put the signs back up, to patch the cracks along the foundation, but I don’t have the energy or the focus.
Daniel’s still here. I can sense him, so I move farther back and call his name. He doesn’t exactly answer—it’s more of a groan. But he’s here.
I pass that news along to Taylor and then go back to look for Hunter. There’s no trace of him. Even though he only had a brief moment with Bree, it must have been enough just to know that she’s safe now. There’s no file cabinet for him yet, but then, I’ve never lost two hitchers in a single day before. Maybe the subconscious is having trouble keeping up with checkouts at the Hotel Anna.
I wish I’d had the chance to tell Hunter good-bye.
I hate this room. It’s too white and too cold, and I know what’s gonna happen because it’s happened already over and over in my vision. The duct tape tugs at the hair on my arms.
Will is seriously freaked. Oksana just looks drugged, but then she most always looks that way. The kid at the end keeps staring at me. I just hope he remembers to tell that Anna girl what I said about picking me up first.
When the door opens, Lucas walks in, holding the gun. Beyond him I see Cregg and the girl.
They both look this way, and Cregg’s face morphs into someone else. It’s wider now. His hair grows longer, as the hairline recedes.
Myron.
And then back to Cregg.
I jolt awake and hear a whimper. It
takes a moment to realize that the whimper came from me. My head didn’t appreciate the sudden movement.
“Anna? Y’okay?” Aaron’s eyes are barely open.
“Yeah. Just . . . a dream.”
“I thought they were over?”
“The Molly dreams are over. But Jaden left last night. Hunter, too.” I very carefully shift my body toward him, moving my head as little as possible, and curl one leg around his. “Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
I close my eyes and drift off again.
Good night, sweet prince.
Sleep, perchance to . . .
Silver Spring, Maryland
December 24, 2019, 2:31 p.m.
Sam Quinn looks like he’s going to burst into tears as soon as he spots us inside the small café. He hurries over to our table. Aaron and Taylor get up to meet him, and he wraps them both in a long bear hug.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. “I’m damn glad to see you, but things are crazy right now, especially this close to DC. And if anyone spots . . . Anna . . .” He catches sight of me for the first time and laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, so maybe you’ve got that covered.”
It’s mostly the hair, but I’m also wearing a pair of costume glasses. A fake nose ring. A skirt of Taylor’s, plaid leggings, and a pair of boots that Deo would actually wear if he could squeeze his feet into them.
Deo has taken the opposite tack. He’s in a pair of plain denim jeans, a flannel shirt, and a NASCAR cap. The only way I convinced him to leave the RV dressed this way was to say this is our substitute for the Halloween we missed. And even then, I still had to promise him candy.
Aaron has a cap, too. Taylor has a hoodie. Hopefully if anyone is still watching, we’ll slide under the radar.
“So,” Sam says, looking between me and Deo. “Both of you are feeling better now?”
“Yes, sir,” I say.
Deo, whose mouth is full of waffles, just nods.
Taylor squeezes her grandfather’s hand. “I’m a very good nurse, Popsy. You should see me giving Deo his injections.”
Deo half chokes and then takes a gulp of his orange juice to cover. Which makes me wonder exactly where she’s giving those injections. And then I immediately wish my brain hadn’t gone there.
“Well, that’s nice to know,” Sam says. “Won’t be too many years before I’ll probably need a good nurse.”
Taylor smiles back at him, but I can see that his comment rattles her. I’m not sure if it’s the idea of her granddad getting older or the juxtaposition of that with the whole sexy nurse thing she and Deo have going.
We spent all of yesterday recuperating at a campground outside of Poughkeepsie. As much as I hated waiting an extra day, my head was still pounding and I was fighting dizzy spells as a result of the concussion. Aaron and Taylor needed the rest, too. Deo was actually the most alert of all of us by last night, since his temperature has dropped to just a smidge above normal, and he slept pretty much nonstop while he was sick.
“Does Mom know we’re here?” Aaron asks.
“No,” Sam says. “One, I knew she’d worry and say you shouldn’t be here, just like I did. And two, I thought since you ignored me and came anyway, we might as well give her a little Christmas Eve surprise.”
The waitress comes over and pours Sam a cup of coffee.
“There hasn’t been much change with Daniel,” he says, stirring some milk into the cup. “We keep hoping for some sort of miracle, but now that he’s out of the trauma center, they’ve started talking about long-term care options with your mom.”
We had mixed feelings when we called yesterday and learned that Daniel had been moved. On the one hand, it’s less likely that security at the new hospital would recognize me. On the other hand, the security probably isn’t as tight, which means Daniel could be at greater risk. His old police department still has someone watching him, but we have no idea how much longer they’ll continue.
“The new hospital is a couple blocks over,” Sam continues. “Might make more sense for Anna and Deo to wait here. They’ll only let two visitors in at a time, but Michele can step out for a minute so you and Taylor can see him.”
“Um, no,” Aaron says. “Actually, Anna and I need to go in first. Taylor and Deo can chat with you and Mom in the lobby. It will only be for a few minutes.”
Sam’s clearly confused, especially when Taylor doesn’t argue. Because he knows that normally Taylor would argue.
We pay the tab and step out onto the street. The weather is still brisk, but the sun is out, and the air has the familiar, if not entirely pleasant, scent of the city. Gray slush is piled up against the curb, a sight that is pretty much the definition of winter for me.
“Home sweet home,” Deo says with a wink.
He’s right. The group home where we met is less than a mile away. I could walk from here to Kelsey’s office. Two months ago, I’d never been outside the state of Maryland. Now, after so much time on the road, it’s nice to be back in a place that feels like home, even if it’s only for a brief visit.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I kind of miss it too. Although the beach smells better.”
“True. Don’t you wish we could hop in a cab and go grab one of Joe’s cheddar-jalapeño bagels?”
“You’re kidding me. That plate of chicken and waffles was bigger than your head.”
“Okay,” he admits. “I’d have to save the bagel for later. But it would be nice to see Joe.”
“It would.” I give his arm a squeeze. “We’ll make it back eventually. If not back here, at least back to a normal life.”
It’s a struggle, but I manage not to add the words I promise.
He grins. “Doesn’t have to be normal. I’d be happy with neither of us being suspected of murder or being called the spawn of Satan by hordes of middle-class moms.”
We catch up with Aaron, Taylor, and Sam just outside the hospital. Sam asks Taylor one last time if she’s sure she wants to wait. And then Aaron and I sign in at the visitors’ desk. I sign in as Elizabeth Bennet, and have the ID badge from Magda’s fake law firm at the ready. But the nurse at the desk just waves us through.
“Not sure if that’s good or bad,” Aaron whispers once we’re in the elevator.
“Good for now,” I say. “Worrying in the long term, though.”
His eyes are concerned as he looks at me. “Are you ready for this? I mean, I’m sure you’re ready to get rid of him, but . . .”
“I’m nervous. What if it doesn’t work, Aaron? Daniel seems so weak, and I’ve never done this in reverse. What if I can’t do it?”
Aaron tips my face up toward his. “Then you’ll have done your best. You will have done everything you could to save him.”
“Except getting here sooner. We could have—”
“Shh.” He leans down and silences me with a kiss. A short one, because the elevator door then slides open and a middle-aged couple boards. The woman gives my outfit a quick up-down and sniffs dismissively. Despite my nerves, I have to fight back a giggle.
The guard outside Daniel’s room is reading something on his phone. Aaron introduces himself as Daniel’s brother, shows his ID, and is about to vouch for me. But his mom must hear his voice, because she’s already opening the door.
“Oh my God! Aaron!”
She hugs him tightly and then looks at me, confused. “Hi, Anna. Is Taylor . . . ?”
“She’s waiting down in the lobby, Mom. Anna and I are going to step in and see Daniel real quick, and then Taylor can come in with you when we’re done. That way, she can spend a bit more time with you. She’s been kind of homesick.”
This arrangement actually makes a bit of sense when he puts it that way, and Michele’s eyes begin to water. She gives me a quick hug and then squeezes Aaron again. “I’ve missed you guys so much. This needs to be over. All of it.”
After she heads down to the lobby, Aaron and I step inside the room. Daniel is hooked up to some of the same equipment as
before but with fewer wires and tubes. The monitor that showed a flat line moments before I picked him up as a hitcher now has a steady, repeating pattern of hills and valleys, although I have no idea if that pattern is normal. What strikes me most, however, is that Daniel looks smaller. Diminished, in almost the same way he seemed inside my head earlier.
I sit in the chair next to his bed, pulling it a bit closer to his body.
Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply several times, then turn inward to look for Daniel. I find him exactly where he was last time, sleeping in the back rows of my mind.
Daniel? You ready for this?
I don’t really expect an answer, and I don’t get one. But at least he’s still here. His presence in my mind is so weak, so faint now, that I know it may not survive the attempt to transfer him back to the shell in this hospital bed. On the other hand, he certainly won’t survive if he stays on as a hitcher. So we might as well get it over with.
Kelsey’s theory about my hitchers has always been that they’re similar to what Jewish mystics call an ibbur—basically a benevolent soul tethered to this earth by an unfinished task. She thinks the tether is one of their own making, some regret or question that they simply cannot leave without resolution. My job, assuming I want my head free of lodgers, has been to help them finish the task. Find their peace. Move on.
In some sense, this was true for Daniel, too. He had a task—he was determined to get Caleb and the other kids away from Graham Cregg. Those kids are now safe. And Cregg, the man Daniel believes was directly responsible for his father’s death, is no longer alive, no longer able to use his power to harm others.
If Daniel is too weak to return to his body, I hope all of that is enough to give him peace. Enough that he can actually move on without remaining here. He didn’t like being cooped up as one of my hitchers the first time. I don’t think he’d be happy repeating that experience.
As important as that sense of peace is, however, it’s not what I want him to focus on right now. Instead, I turn my thoughts to all of the reasons he has to live. All of the unfinished business. Unfortunately, many of his reasons for living are tied up with anger and revenge. But I focus on the positive side of those emotions. The righteous anger of correcting an injustice. The desire to ensure that evil doesn’t win, that innocent kids don’t end up in the cross fire of Senator Cregg’s political battles. The desire to find a way for the adepts to coexist peacefully without being used or mistreated.
