Wake Up

by Brooke De Lira

  I groaned, sinking deeper into my seat. “Let’s hope not. We don’t even have a plan B.”

  Luke took another bite of the cold turkey sandwich he’d bought at the market. The sharp stench of mayo made me feel sick. I wished another packet of bubblegum into my hand and popped a strip into my mouth.

  “So what exactly do you think we’re going to find out about this Jimmy guy?” he mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich.

  “I don’t know.” I tried to work through my thoughts. “I don’t think he’s some psycho serial killer or anything. But still, it’s all way too weird. The note, the garage door, his secret meetings with Aiden. He’s hiding something. I can feel it.”

  The house remained still, and I half wanted to just drag Jimmy and his mom out with my willpower. But I couldn’t break rule number one. You’re here to discover, no control. Don’t screw this up, Madelyn. One chance is all you’ve got.

  Movement in the doorway interrupted my musings. Ruth stepped out with her hair combed neatly and tied in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She carried a nondescript cloth purse in one hand and a leather-bound Bible in the other.

  When she reached the driver’s side of the car, Jimmy walked through the doorway, slacks, and a button-down shirt replacing his ragged clothes from earlier, hair combed to the side. Anger welled up inside me upon seeing his stoic expression, his hunched-over posture that only characterized the kind of people with something devious lurking beneath the surface.

  “What did I tell you?” Luke finished his sandwich and leaned over the steering wheel, craning his neck to watch the car back out of the driveway. It disappeared behind a row of trees before speeding out of the cul-de-sac. Neither of the occupants made a side glance in our direction.

  After a few minutes, Luke carefully picked up the chocolate cake. We stepped out of the car and strolled toward the house as casually as we could fake.

  I picked up a pebble from the landscaping gravel, tossing it into the air. When it landed in my palm, the stone had transformed into a spare key. I briefly scanned the neighborhood, satisfied that no one seemed to be watching us.

  Luke kept his eyes forward, balancing the cake on one hand while whistling the off-key tune of a sitcom theme song. When we reached the door, I unbolted it with the spare key, and we quickly stepped inside. Luke set the cake down on the floor, taking a step toward the living area where we’d spoken with Ruth just hours earlier.

  “Shoes!” I snapped. Luke threw his hands up in surrender, and we both unlaced our footwear before stepping onto the plush carpet. Luke walked toward the kitchen, taking in all the family treasures and decor he’d ignored before. Thick drapes covered the windows, casting the house in shadow.

  I drew a deep, trembling breath before heading toward the dark staircase.

  The shattered glass from the fallen frame had been cleaned up from the stairway, and Jimmy’s portrait lay on the coffee table. I flipped the light switch. The stairway remained dark. Strange.

  I made my way up the steps, the wood creaking under my feet. A sound from upstairs made me halt. It was like a ball rolling across a hard floor. Then, it stopped. Gathering my courage, I climbed to the top of the staircase, leaving Luke to snoop alone in the living room.

  Three doors lined the narrow hallway. A round window at the other end cast a light on the hardwood flooring that must have been half a century old. Quietly, I opened the first door to my right. A simple bedroom, the floral bedspread and neat appearance leading me to assume this was Ruth’s. I closed the door and tried the next.

  Swinging the door open, I stood in stunned silence. Above a floor littered with dirty laundry, walls rose with so many photographs, they looked like portals to hundreds of other tiny worlds. Sunsets, cliffs, waves, and pebbled shorelines shone in vivid detail, caught from unexpected perspectives that made you look twice.

  Even the ceiling held its share of images, which peeled at the corners where they weren’t held by tape. Most of these featured shots of storms, cloudy days, rain, and mist.

  I flipped on the light switch to see better, remembering that the power was out. I bit my cheek in annoyance, focusing on the light fixture at the center of the ceiling until it sparked to life.

  I vaguely heard Luke’s footsteps closing in from the stairs, his voice calling my name in a sort of shout-whisper. I couldn’t respond, too enthralled by the walls that looked so much like my own, except that in place of family and friends, they captured only lifeless scenes, creating a world that was surreal in its loneliness.

  “Oh, wow,” he mumbled from the doorway. I walked toward the window at the other end of the room to the spot where gray light fought the yellow of the incandescent bulb. Why I was drawn to that exact spot, I would never know.

  I rested my hands on the dust-coated windowsill. At one corner, a photo lay so badly crumpled, I couldn’t imagine what could have driven its creator to such a destructive state.

  I felt Luke leaning over my shoulder as I carefully opened the crumpled photo paper. The first thing I made out was an old shed with weathered red paint, then, a figure leaning with his back against the wood siding.

  I flattened the photo completely, and a dry lump rose to my throat. I choked on my own breath.

  “My God, that’s your brother.”

  I just barely nodded, unable to take my eyes away from Aiden’s serene face. He wore that over-sized flannel shirt he’d always loved, hiking boots, and a pair of weathered jeans. Some locks of his long hair were swept over his face by a breeze. His face was turned to the side, as if the photo was caught while he was in deep thought.

  I sat cross-legged on the floor and studied the image closer, maybe a bit obsessively. “Luke,” I murmured, noticing the out-of-focus leaves and twigs framing the picture, as if the photographer were crouching in the bushes when he captured the image. Hiding.

  “What is it?” He knelt beside me.

  “I think I take back what I said in the car, about him not being a killer.”

  The sound of glass breaking in another room made us both jump. I snatched up the photo, and we crept to the doorway with eyes wide open. I glanced into the hallway. No one was there. I signaled for Luke to check out Ruth’s bedroom while I investigated the room at the end of the hall.

  I crept forward, heart racing faster when I saw the door ajar. But I didn’t call Luke back. With soft steps, I approached the shadowed doorway. That was it. I couldn’t take the suspense. I swung the door open with one hand, the other raised and ready to smack someone through the wall.

  But there was no one there. It was an empty bathroom, the bathtub curtain drawn to the side, leaving nowhere for an enemy to hide. Shards of a drinking glass lay scattered on the floor. I quickly decided the glass must have been on the edge of the counter, and a draft had knocked it past the tipping point.

  I exhaled the breath I’d been holding, stepping into the dark bathroom.

  But when I turned to look in the mirror, I couldn’t hold back a shriek. I cupped a hand over my mouth, staring into the glass. A pale-skinned Intruder stared back at me with black, lifeless eyes. But it wasn’t like the others.

  It was me.

  Its face, hair, clothing, everything was an exact replica of my image, but white as a corpse. The Intruder in the mirror even cupped its hand over its mouth, face filled with fear.

  “Madelyn!” Luke rushed into the bathroom, armed with a shoe.

  I swung to face him, speechless. He relaxed when he saw no one else around me. Seeing where I stood, he approached the mirror and looked at our reflections before turning back to me.

  “Mads, what happened?”

  I reluctantly turned back to the mirror, but both our reflections were now the broken, Picasso-like images I had become accustomed to in the dream world. I let out a shaky sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I… thought I saw something,” I mumbled, stumbling out of the bathroom and back into Jimmy’s bedroom.

  Luke eased his tension and followed, still w
alking cautiously.

  I sat down cross-legged at the center of the room, laying out Aiden’s photo on the floorboards before me. “What does this all mean? Help me understand,” I whispered, not quite loud enough for Luke to hear.

  My eyes drifted from my brother’s pensive form to the myriad of images on the walls. Each had something to say, but one photo that hung just above Jimmy’s bed drew my eyes. I squinted, just to be sure I wasn’t imagining things. A lonely shed stood in the forest, chips of red paint clinging to the wood panels.

  “See anything that can help us out?” Luke asked.

  I picked Aiden’s photo off the floor and held it up to the image on the wall, comparing the two. There was no doubt. It was the same shed. I stood up and tore the other photo from its resting place.

  I studied every inch of the new photo, though I had no clue what I might be searching for. Then, I found it. The shape of an object just barely peeked from the back corner of the shed, resting against the outer wall. A guitar.

  “Luke.”

  He left behind whatever he was studying, standing beside me. “The shed?”

  I nodded, biting my lip. “If Aiden was there, and Jimmy shot the place more than once, it has to mean something. And I’m ninety-five percent sure that’s Aiden’s guitar in the other photo.”

  I placed the photos on Jimmy’s unkempt bed, lying them side by side. “Now, what were either of them doing around some broken-down old shed in the middle of the woods?”

  Luke sighed. “A lot of good that does us. That could be anywhere.”

  But a strange feeling was already scratching at the back of my mind as I stared at the photos. Familiarity. “I think I’ve been here.”

  “What?” Before he could open his mouth again, we both froze. A car engine grew louder, then idled, then stopped.

  The Olsons were home.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Luke rushed to the window, looking for a way out through the backyard.

  When I was about to join him, panic hit my gut. “Our shoes!”

  Luke bit his thumb, frantic. “Go get them. I’ll find us a way out.”

  I stumbled down the stairs, trying my best to soften my footsteps. I peeked at the door. Still closed. Muffled voices came from outside. Without another thought, I sprinted to the doorway and snatched our shoes. Just before I rushed up the stairs again, I cursed under my breath. The stupid cake.

  I ran back and grabbed it. The frosting squished against the plastic packaging as I hustled up the steps. Ruth’s bedroom was open, and Luke waved me in. Just as I closed the door behind me, the sound of the front door opening reached our ears as Ruth’s voice grew louder.

  I tiptoed to the window where Luke waited, my jaw tight with anxiety. Below the window, the roof protruded to cover the back porch. We both climbed onto the shingles. A gust of cold wind and rain nearly knocked us off the roof.

  While Luke closed the window, I tucked the plastic cake package under my arm and crawled to the edge. A mountain of pine logs lay stacked against the house, offering an easy descent. I signaled for Luke to follow me, and we scrambled onto the logs and toward the ground.

  With one last look at the house, we bolted to the short wood fence, climbed over, and scurried into the woods. Once we reached a safe distance, we caught our breath beneath a stand of red pines.

  Still huffing, Luke held a finger up to tell me to wait. He then reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out the photo of Aiden, now neatly folded. My heart jumped.

  “I know I probably shouldn’t have, but I figured it belonged in your hands, not his.”

  A took the photo from his outstretched hand, fingers trembling. “Thanks,” I whispered.

  He let out a long exhale. “I guess we’re taking the long way back to the truck, but then what? You remember where that old shack is?”

  I sighed. “No, but I know someone who does.”

  ***

  Luke and I pulled into the driveway of C’s lakeside cabin, and my heart sank. I knew something was wrong when I saw five feral cats curled up on the front porch next to empty food bowls.

  I signaled for Luke to wait in the truck, and he nodded his compliance. Holding my breath, I jogged to the doorway and let myself in. A messy home greeted me, but it was eerily still. A pile of cinders smoldered in the fireplace, leaving the cabin as cold as the outdoors.

  “C?” I called, hesitant. No answer.

  The kitchen was empty, dishes piled in the sink. The sleeping bags Luke and I had used the night before still lay on the floor. I crept toward the bedroom, peeking through the crack. A figure lay completely covered by a heavy fleece blanket.

  I approached the bed, afraid to throw off the covers to see what lay underneath. “C…” I reached my hand forward, grabbing the top corner of the blanket and slowly peeling it away.

  C blinked open the one eye she had left, coughing. A weak smile spread across her paling face that was beaded with fever sweat. Her right leg, left forearm, and part of her abdomen had almost completely vanished, and nearly half her face was gone.

  Fear coursed through my veins, and panicked questions overtook my thoughts. Why was she disappearing so fast? How could she ever last until nightfall, until I solved Aiden’s death and unlocked my unconscious? Did this mean my comatose mind was dying in the real world?

  Seeing the fear in my eyes, she reached the hand she still had to touch my face. “It’s bad, Maddie. But I am quite sure I can still hold on until tonight.”

  I bit my lip. “Maybe you won’t need to. I’m positive now that Jimmy has something to do with Aiden’s death, and I think I found a place where we can get more answers.”

  She propped herself on her elbows. “Where?”

  I shrugged. “I hoped you could tell me.” I pulled the photo of Aiden from my jacket pocket and held it for her to see.

  “This shed. I know I’ve been there before. But I can’t quite remember…”

  C closed her eyes, laying back onto her pillow. A look of serenity swept over what was left of her face as she searched our mind. After a long moment, her eyes opened, and she looked back at me.

  “We were six years old. Aiden hiked with us through the woods on the far side of the highway, where we hadn’t explored yet, and we found the ruins of an old hunter’s cabin. We made up stories about the man who must have lived there a hundred years ago. ‘A reclusive vampire,’ Aiden told us, ‘who sucked the blood from the whitetail deer and rabbits who wandered too close.’ That’s when we saw the little red shed.

  “Compared to the cabin, it was in good condition. The red paint was beginning to chip and fade from the sun, but the wood must have been coated only a few years prior. Someone had been making use of the shed long after leaving that old cabin. The rusted padlock was already broken, so we went inside.

  “It was empty and dark. Aiden was fascinated, but you and I were scared and begged to go home, thinking a ghost would come out of the shed and kill us. He wanted so badly to stay, but he loved us. He didn’t want to see us afraid, so he brought us home. We never went back after that day.”

  I closed my eyes, seeing the old shed those many years ago, before the paint had chipped away and the roof caved in, like the pictures showed. I saw Aiden sneaking inside and searching for forgotten treasures. I felt the horror that had made my hairs stand on end as I peered into the haunting storage space. “I remember.”

  “And you remember how to get there?”

  I closed my eyes again, seeing the path through the eyes of my younger self. We crossed the red-tinted highway, followed an old snowmobile trail to a crossing sign, and took a left into the woods where the decaying logs of the hunter’s cabin peeked through the foliage. “Yes.”

  C grabbed my wrist, staring into my eyes. “Go there, Maddie. Do what you must, but be careful. Something tells me that nothing can prepare you for what you might find there.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Evergreens and the skeletons of hardwoods loomed over
the snowmobile trail that stretched before us. Luke and I stepped softly, but the crunch of dead leaves under our feet was deafening in the still forest.

  I scanned the woods for Intruders, satisfied to see we were alone. Luke, meanwhile, continued to glance over his shoulder to make sure the police hadn’t caught wind of our endeavors.

  When the trail crossing sign came into view, I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to see the path in my mind’s vision. Opening my eyes, I caught sight of the same twisted oak that had marked our passage that day long ago.

  Signaling for Luke to follow, I waded through the underbrush. It wasn’t long before the ruins of a log cabin became visible through the trunks and branches before us, its once-grand structure collapsed on itself. After studying the criss-crossing of rotting logs, I looked beyond. There was the shed.

  A shiver ran down my spine as I stepped toward the shack colored by chips of red paint. The tilted structure was somehow still standing after all these years. I took Jimmy’s photo from my jacket pocket one more time, just to be sure.

  But there was no mistake. This was the shed Aiden had visited three summers ago. He and Jimmy Olson.

  The latch was long-since broken, and the door was jammed shut thanks to a log propped against it.

  Luke caught up to me after taking an extra moment to study the ruins, catching my shoulder so I would turn to face him. “Hold on. How about I go in first, okay?”

  I swallowed the gum I’d been chewing and glared. “No way am I letting you do that.” Seeing the worry in his eyes, I sighed and softened. “Fine. How about we go in together?”

  He nodded his approval, taking my hand. I squeezed it and drew a deep breath, ready for anything, or so I thought. We marched forward together, and I lay my hand on the rough wood panels of the door. Luke kicked the log away.

  We stepped back. The door swung open.

  Light streamed in through the open doorway and a hole in the ceiling, revealing the inner walls of the shed. They were covered top to bottom in photographs, just like Jimmy’s bedroom. But this was different.