by Kate Brian
“So that’s how you knew about Aaron,” I said, tears flooding my eyes.
He nodded. “Are you all right?”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head as the tears spilled over. “How can I be all right? He’s moving on. He’s…he’s going to leave me.”
Tristan closed the distance between us then, pulling me into his arms. I inhaled the scent of him, so like the calming, floral scent of the island itself, and released all the misery, confusion, and anger I’d been feeling since the moment I’d had that flash.
Tristan stroked my hair back from my face, clinging to my shoulder with his other hand. He kissed the top of my head and whispered in my ear, “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Gradually, my tears began to slow, my breathing returning to normal, until finally I was quiet.
“Where were you today?” I muttered, looking him in the eye. “Where were you when you found out about me ushering my dad?
“I was at the cove,” he said.
“With Nadia?”
Tristan knitted his brow. “What? No. Not with Nadia. I mean, she did come by here earlier today, but I didn’t go anywhere with her. I was at the cove, reading.”
“Reading?” I repeated dumbly.
Tristan released me slowly, as if afraid I might crumble at any sudden movement, and went to his desk. For the first time, I noticed that piled on top were dozens of leather-bound journals, some with yellowed pages, others with crisp white ones. He grabbed one from the top of a pile and brought it to me, sitting down on the edge of his bed. I sat next to him.
“What’s that?” I asked, dragging my hands over my face to try to dry the tears.
“I’ve never shown this to anyone,” he said, tilting the spine up. “It’s my daily log. The most recent one. I’ve been keeping them since I got here, so there are actually quite a few by now, but this is the one that matters.”
“Why?” I asked.
He blinked and looked at me like it was so obvious. “Because you’re in it.” Tristan held the journal out to me, gazing directly into my eyes. “Take it.”
“What?”
“I want you to have it,” he said firmly, placing it in my hands. “I want you to see what I wrote tonight before I came back to town—how you’ve changed everything for me.”
I stared down at the plain leather cover of the journal. “Changed everything?”
Tristan was silent for a moment, then let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” he said quietly. “What you and Joaquin were saying… It just didn’t make sense to me. It was like you coming to me and insisting that the sky isn’t blue or that the other world isn’t round. It made no sense.”
“Until…?”
“I spent the whole day today going through these,” he said. “The guy in these journals, he’s so…idealistic.” He chuckled. “He really believes in this place. But then I thought about what you said about Jessica and what she did and what happened as a result, and I realized…believing in this place doesn’t mean thinking it can do no wrong. That’s when I knew I couldn’t keep turning a blind eye to what was going on around here.
“I was on my way back to tell the mayor that when I saw the weather vane,” he continued. “That was the final nail in the coffin.”
“You saw it?” I asked, lifting my head. “You were there?”
He nodded. “I’d just gotten to the library when the fog came in, and I waited it out there. I saw you, when you ran up from your house. I saw your face—how devastated you were—and I went right to the mayor.”
“We have to figure this out, Tristan,” I said desperately. “If I have to…” I paused and took a breath, ignoring the dart of pain in my chest. “If I have to usher my father, I have to be sure he’s going to the right place.”
“I know.” He put his arms around me, and I rested my chin on his shoulder, closing my eyes and relishing the solidity of him. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
“That’s all I want,” I replied. “What happened to Aaron and Jennifer, and those other people tonight…it can’t happen to anyone else.”
Tristan pulled back so he could look me in the eye. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Rory, you know that?”
“Coming from someone who’s been around as long as you have, that means a lot,” I said lightly.
Tristan smiled and leaned in to kiss me. His lips tasted of salt and something sweet I couldn’t name. I poured every inch of myself, every ounce of sadness and longing, of terror and despair, of hope and love, into that kiss.
He pulled back, his blue eyes searching mine for a long moment. “I love you, Rory Miller.”
I curled my fingers through his, clinging to him. “I love you, Tristan Sevardes.”
He sighed at the sound of his real name, pulling me to his chest like he would never let me go. In that moment I knew that whatever happened with my family, he would never leave me. We were in this together. Forever.
Finish the job
Sometimes it bothers me how easy it is to fool people. It’s almost as if they want to be lied to. Like they find it comforting. Like they need so badly to believe in the facade that I’ve put forth, to believe in me and this place and everything it stands for, that they allow themselves to be blind to everything else.
Or maybe I’m just that good.
But soon, that’s all going to change. They won’t be able to deny it anymore. Soon they’re going to see me for who I really am. They’re going to know who really holds all the power.
I can hardly wait.
One gold coin
The moment I woke up on Friday morning, I stopped breathing. The air crackled with an ominous chill. I stared at the ceiling, my fingers curling into the blanket at my sides, balling parts of it up inside my fists. I wasn’t going to look at the nightstand. I was not going to look. I refused.
But after two minutes of wide-eyed protest, my eyeballs actually ached. Finally, I ever so slowly turned my head, and there it was, sitting in the center of my nightstand.
One. Gold. Coin.
“It looks like Barbie, Minnie Mouse, and Hello Kitty got together to plan Mardi Gras,” I said to Bea that night. “While drunk.”
We were standing under the huge white tent set up behind Tristan and Krista’s house, surrounded by potted topiaries swathed in pink tulle, tables set with yellow and pink and magenta china, and waitresses dressed like prima ballerinas—tutus, ballet slippers, and all. Bea sipped peach-colored punch from a sparkling crystal glass and raised one eyebrow at me. Right. She had spent two hours on a ladder today carefully stringing beaded garlands and tulle from the rafters.
“But in a good way,” I amended.
I was trying so hard to keep it light, to not think about that coin in my room and what it meant for my family. To not think about everything that was going wrong on Juniper Landing. To not obsess about Nadia and Jessica and the mayor and Oblivion. Most of all, I tried not to think about how the person who was sending people to the Shadowlands might be a guest at this party. Might be watching us right now, waiting for their chance to grab more innocent souls.
“Yeah, right,” Bea said with a sigh. “We both know it’s butt-ugly. But at least she’s happy.”
She gazed across the dozen round tables and the white tiled dance floor at Krista, who was chatting with a few visitors in her circle-skirted pink party dress. For the first time, I saw that Bea really did care about our “birthday” girl. The Lifers were all so different, but they were a family.
“Having fun?”
Tristan wrapped his arms around me from behind and nuzzled my neck. Bea gave us an annoyed sort of look and quickly glanced away.
“It’s nice,” I said as he kissed my cheek and moved to stand next to me. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt and white linen shorts, his blond hair grazing his eyebrows. “It’s nice just to think about something else for a little while.”
“Agreed,” Bea said, downing the rest of her drink. “And what I’m thi
nking about is getting more punch. You guys want anything?”
“I’m good,” Tristan said.
“Me, too,” I added, leaning into him.
Bea rolled her eyes and walked off, tugging down on the hem of her denim miniskirt. On the dance floor in the center of the tent, Lauren was letting loose along with a crowd of visitors as Pete DJ’d from a booth set off to one side. The paper lanterns and swaths of garland swayed in the ocean breeze as the ballerinas delivered salads and champagne to the tables, then moved off, pirouetting with their free arms raised elegantly overhead. It was as if the whole service were a carefully choreographed dance. Officer Dorn shuffled slowly around the periphery of the tent, his hands clasped behind his back, keeping a surreptitious eye on the guests. He looked up and met my gaze. I stared at him until he looked away.
“What kind of party do you think you’ll have for your anniversary?” Tristan asked, holding me closer.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I haven’t even thought about it. The whole idea of being here for a year… It seems impossible.”
“Wait till you’ve been here for a hundred,” he said, half joking, half grim.
It was the first time he’d even come close to approaching the truth about his time on the island.
“What’s it like, being alive for that long?” I asked, turning to face him and wrapping my arms lightly around his neck. Dorn passed behind Tristan, and I ignored his glare, biting my tongue to keep from asking where his friend Nadia was tonight. “Don’t you get bored? Do you ever want to just…”
“End it?” Tristan asked, a shadow flickering across his face. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about it on the darker days—trying to figure out a way to move on from here. But then I remember that I was meant to be here. That this place needs me. And I just…go on.”
I lifted his other hand and laced all our fingers together. “You’ll have to show me how to do that, once I start having darker days.”
He gave me a confident smile. “I will,” he said, kissing the bridge of my nose. “You know I will.”
I melted into him, and we hugged for a long time. Then he spotted something over my shoulder and pulled away.
“What’s this?”
I turned to find my father and the mayor walking into the party together. He was wearing a suit jacket unbuttoned over his shirt, and she had on a pretty black dress with lace at the neckline. Her hair was down for the first time since I’d met her and was so long it fell past her shoulders in a girlish way. My father had his hand on the small of her back as they weaved around the tables together. My stomach clenched at the intimate gesture.
“I don’t even want to know,” I said, swallowing hard.
Behind my father, Darcy and Fisher walked into the party, making a stunning couple, him in a stark white shirt that contrasted sharply with his dark skin, her in a slinky black dress and red heels. I saw a few heads turn as they sauntered by, and I could read the jealousy in the girls’ glances. That was how people always looked at Darcy. Like they hated her and wanted to be her all at the same time. I was glad Fisher had brought her here. Darcy deserved a party.
“I guess everyone’s coupled up for the night,” Tristan said as a new song started and Lauren and her posse of visitors cheered.
“As long as we’re coupled up, that’s all I care about,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder.
Suddenly, a series of explosions nearby killed all conversation. The music stopped abruptly, and Krista screamed.
“Krista?” Tristan shouted in alarm.
Out of nowhere, a bubbly, pop version of “Happy Birthday” blasted through the speakers. Tristan and I stared at each other, confused.
“What the hell?”
But Tristan’s words were still hanging in the air when people around us began to gasp and smile. Bea pointed toward the back of the tent and cheered.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Tristan took my hand and led me around the outskirts of the tent. Set up near the back of the property, a safe distance from the guests, was a huge sign made out of crackling sparklers, the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTA! spelled out in bright white lights. Joaquin stood nearby, eyeing Krista with a cocky grin.
“Joaquin! I can’t believe you did this!” Krista cried, jogging forward to give him a hug. She covered her mouth as she watched her name sparkle, and everyone began to applaud.
“Dude, you are out of your mind!” Tristan shouted to hoots and hollers. He moved forward to high-five Joaquin, and I trailed after him.
“Not bad, huh?” Joaquin asked, clearly proud of himself. He raised a hand toward the party, and I saw Pete, who’d put on the “Happy Birthday” song, signal back.
“I’m stunned,” Krista said. “I thought you said this whole thing was lame.”
Joaquin shrugged modestly. “Yeah, well, it was important to you, so…”
“Best birthday gift ever,” Krista told him.
“This is going well, I think,” Tristan said, gazing out over the party. “So far so good?”
“Yep,” Krista said. “No fog equals good birthday.”
I glanced back at the tent, where Fisher and Darcy broke from a kiss. She smiled happily.
“Yeah. Not bad at all.”
The four of us started back toward the crowd. Bea, Cori, and Kevin were already digging in to their salads. I spotted my dad pulling out a chair for the mayor, and suddenly felt a tingling sensation that started in my toes. My whole body went cold, and I stopped so abruptly it took Tristan a moment to realize I wasn’t next to him.
“No,” I said, pressing my hand to my heart as my eyes filled with tears.
But the effervescent sensation didn’t stop. It just came on stronger, swirling through me, bubbling from my toes all the way up through my torso and into my head.
“What?” Tristan said, the remnants of a smile still lighting his face. “What’s wrong?”
My throat completely closed. I stared at Tristan, desperate, until realization washed over his face. Then, all of a sudden, a hush came over the bluff. Bea dropped her fork and stared at us. Lauren stopped dancing. Slowly, everyone else on the dance floor stilled as well.
That was when I felt it, creeping up my legs and over my shoulders. The cold wetness of it. The first fingers of fog curled around my feet and my knees went weak. The sparklers started to hiss and smoke, dying out one by one.
“Sonofa—” Joaquin said, turning around to face it.
The fog rolled in over the bluff, rushing toward us over the grass. Tristan, Krista, and Joaquin all stared at me grimly until the mist consumed them.
“It’s my dad,” I croaked finally, the fog hissing in my ears. “I’m supposed to take my dad.”
Broken
A clear path to my father opened up in the fog. I could see him plain as day, looking wonderingly, blindly, into the mist. I was supposed to walk along that path, take his arm, and usher him over the bridge to his eternal life.
“No,” I shouted. “No! I won’t do it. I can’t.” I turned around and ran, the fog engulfing me from all sides.
“Rory, no!” Tristan shouted.
I could practically feel him coming after me and turned on the speed.
“Don’t!” Joaquin yelled. It sounded like he was somewhere to my left, but it was impossible to tell. Still, I turned right and barreled ahead, tears streaming from my eyes, trailing across my face, and dripping onto my shoulders.
My father was going to die. He was going to die for real. That’s what this really was, wasn’t it? This moving on? He was going to leave, and I was going to be left here. Alone.
“Rory! Stop now!”
Something in Joaquin’s voice made me freeze. I gasped for breath, the ragged effort scratching my lungs.
“Don’t. Move,” Tristan instructed. “You’re right on the edge of the bluff.”
I gasped, my head going weightless. Suddenly I could feel it, the emptiness in fro
nt of me. My toe twitched, and a rock popped over the edge, clicking along the wall into the endless nothing. I had almost fallen. I could have been killed. Except…
“So what?” I cried, my voice cracking as I turned around. I couldn’t see them. There was nothing but fog. “I can’t die, right?” I shouted into the nothingness, my fingers curling at my sides. “Who cares if I fall?”
“No,” Tristan said, appearing in a swirl of mist, his hand outstretched. “You can’t die.”
“But you can break every bone in your body,” Joaquin added, stepping up next to Tristan. “And believe me, that hurts.”
I let Tristan close the gap between us and pull me away from the edge. Down below, the surf crashed louder.
“It’s okay, Rory,” Tristan assured me, holding me at arm’s length. “No one expects you to take him.”
“Of course not,” Joaquin added. “We made a pact.”
“It’s not that,” I said, sniffling as I shook my head. “I may not take him tonight, but I’ll have to eventually. I’m going to have to say good-bye to my father. I had to say good-bye to my mother, and next it’ll be my father, and then Darcy…” I felt as if my chest were splitting open. As if it would never be mended. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Tristan,” I gasped. “It’s not fair. It’s not…fair.”
“I know,” he said, pulling me to him and letting me cry all over his pristine blue shirt. “I know it’s not fair.”
“This is so intense,” Joaquin said. “We’ve never had a Lifer have to sit here and watch their family go, one by one.”
I let out a loud sob.
“Dude. Just stop talking,” Tristan said.
Joaquin blanched. “Sorry.”
Somewhere in the depths of the mist, a car door thunked shut, and an engine revved. A shiver went through me. No one should be driving in this mess, which made me wonder what sort of person would try, and for what reason.
