by Heidi Lang
“Why,” Ava said quietly, her teeth clenched, “do you think I applied to WestConn in the first place?”
“To get as far away from Sunnyside as possible.”
“Because they offer an astrobiology major,” Ava said, still in that tight, gritted voice. “And why do you think I want to major in that?”
“I don’t know. You’ve never told me.”
“So I can try to find Dad, okay?”
Rae blinked. “R-really?”
“Yes, really!” Ava exploded. “God, Rae, sometimes you’re so selfish! You think that the rest of us have just moved on? Maybe some of us are still looking, we’re just doing it in a smarter, subtler fashion than you are.”
Astrobiology, to find Dad. Did that mean… “So, you believe me?” Rae whispered. “About Dad?”
Ava sighed. “I’m not sure what I believe. But I know something weird happened with him.” She drummed her fingers on the door of her car. “And I’m doing what I can to find out what.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Rae asked. “This whole time, why did you pretend that I was making stuff up?”
Ava stopped drumming. “I guess I just didn’t want you involved. It’s dangerous.”
“He’s my dad too.”
“I know.” Ava went quiet. A few raindrops splattered across her windshield, and Rae felt them drip down her face like tears. Or maybe she was crying. She couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry,” Ava said at last. “I should have been more honest.”
Rae sniffed. “Yes, you should have.” She sniffed again. “Does Mom know I’m skipping school?”
“Not yet,” Ava said.
“Are you going to tell her?”
Ava hesitated. “Where are you going?”
“Just… to look around a little. Not far.”
“Is it somewhere dangerous?”
“No,” Rae lied.
“Will you be back soon?”
“Yes.”
Ava studied her for a long minute. “Tell you what. You text me as soon as you’re done, and that better be within an hour. And I won’t tell Mom.”
It felt like an apology. Ava was telling her she trusted her, at least a little. Rae knew this was the best chance she’d have, but still, she needed to negotiate. “Two hours,” she said.
“An hour and a half. And I’ll want details.”
“Deal.” Rae and Ava shook hands, and then with one last look back at her, Ava drove off.
“What was that all about?” Caden asked.
Rae wiped at her eyes. The rain had picked up, and so had the wind, flinging cold drops down the neck of her sweater. “That was my sister.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that out. I mean… what was that about your dad?”
Rae started pedaling, but slowly enough for Caden to bike next to her. The last person she’d told about her dad had turned on her.
You are so, so weird. I can’t believe we were ever friends.
Rae pedaled a little harder, wanting to leave that memory behind, but she could still see Taylor’s face, her blue eyes narrowed, her lips pursed, the way she had flipped her hair and turned away.
But Caden wasn’t Taylor. He’d said he had her back. And he’d told her the truth about his brother.
“Would you believe me…?” Rae swallowed hard. “Would you believe me if I told you that my dad was abducted by the government?”
“What did he find?”
It was the right question. “Aliens,” Rae said. “He found proof of aliens.” She waited, but Caden didn’t scoff at her, or laugh, or anything. He just nodded. She let out her breath, her limbs shaking with relief.
“So,” he said. “How did it happen?”
Rae took a deep breath and launched into her story.…
* * *
Her dad had been working on Operation Gray Bird for almost a year. At first, he’d been very excited about the project. He’d tell Rae little hints, mentioning that it was something special, that he was doing work on never-before-seen technology, that it was a huge honor to be picked for this team. It’s top secret, so I can’t tell you much more about it, he’d say.
What if I guess? Rae had asked. Can you tell me if I’m right? And she’d thrown out bigger and wilder possibilities, until finally she’d come to, Is it a spaceship?
I can neither confirm, nor deny, her dad had said, laughing. And I think our game is done, kiddo. And that was how Rae knew.
And then her dad started working longer hours, coming home stressed and tired. He lost weight, lost hair, lost his easy smile. The light in his eyes when he talked about work turned to cold dread, and his face developed more hard lines than a city road map.
It’s not going well, he confided in their mom one night when Rae was supposed to be asleep. Our progress is extremely slow. And frankly, I’m beginning to think that’s a good thing. We don’t really know what this craft is capable of. We shouldn’t be messing with it.
I’m sure they wouldn’t have you doing something dangerous, Rae’s mom had said. They have safety nets in place, I’d imagine.
Rae remembered how her dad had laughed, because it had been a terrible sound. Not at all amused. They don’t really know what we’re messing with either. Or maybe they do know, and they’re not telling us.
What are you thinking, Chris?
I’m thinking I’m getting tired of being kept in the dark.
That conversation had happened a month before Rae’s dad disappeared. Three weeks later, her dad had come home early from work, extremely upset. This time he didn’t even seem to notice or care that Rae was listening.
It exploded. Exploded! he said. Rae remembered how he’d paced, his hair as wild as his eyes. I’m not the first one to work on this project. Oh no, there was another team assigned to it before.
Chris, calm down.
Only that time, the whole experiment ended like… like… well, in a blasted explosion!
How did you find out about this? Rae’s mom asked, worried. What have you been doing?
Her dad ran his hands through his rapidly thinning hair. Not everyone who worked on the last project died in the explosion. One of the engineers tracked me down. He dropped his hands. The things he told me… But then he’d finally noticed Rae, standing quietly in the doorway, and he’d stopped talking.
Rae had heard enough to scare her, though, and that night her dreams had been full of explosions and spaceships and her dad’s frantic voice. So a few days later, when her dad told her he’d decided to quit his job, she had been so relieved.
I just need to work through the end of the week, he’d told her. And then I’ll have more time. In fact, I’ll come home early on Friday, okay? I’ll be here when you get home from school, and we’ll go for ice cream, like we used to. Just you and me, kiddo.
* * *
“Only when I got home that day, he wasn’t there,” Rae finished, pedaling slowly.
“He was just… gone?”
“Yes. Him, and another engineer on his team. A woman.” Rae sighed. “Most people think they just ran off together, but I know that’s not it.”
“And why do you think it was the government?”
“Because… when I got home that day, my dad wasn’t there, but a bunch of men in suits were. They ransacked our house, and they took everything my dad owned. And I mean everything. Like, we got him this cheap ceramic Grinch mug for Christmas one year, just as a joke, and they took that, too. They were very thorough.”
“Sounds like the government.”
Rae was silent, thinking of the only things they hadn’t taken: her dad’s calendar, and the picture she’d found, the one hidden behind the photo in her desk. Her biggest secret. “Anyhow,” she continued, “the night before he disappeared, my dad told my mom about something they were keeping in the lab. Something he wasn’t supposed to see, but it was alive, and not of Earth origin. Plus, you know, he was working on a spaceship. And… he wanted to quit. I don’t think they could allow him to leave, kno
wing what he knew.”
She wondered if anyone else was aware of how much he’d told her. For the first time, she felt a tiny sliver of fear for herself. Maybe she was in danger too. Maybe their whole family was. But then, why hadn’t anyone come after them yet? Unless the government was still watching them, waiting for something.
Maybe Ava’s college wasn’t the only reason her mom had moved them all across the country.
Caden turned onto another street, and Rae followed him, recognizing the cul-de-sac and the blue house up ahead. He stopped a few houses away from their target and got off his bike, and Rae copied him. “I… don’t really have any experience with aliens,” he admitted. “But I’ve seen enough strange things in this world to believe that anything is possible.”
“That sounds like something my dad would say.” Rae’s dad believed you couldn’t prove a negative, which meant there were no limits on possibility.
They walked their bikes behind Doctor Anderson’s house. It didn’t look like he was around, and none of the neighbors appeared to be out and about either.
“I’ll help you,” Caden said abruptly.
“What?” Rae said.
“After all of this.” He waved at the house. “When it’s done, I’ll help you look for your dad. If you want.”
Rae stared at him, at his black hair, flattened by the rain, and his dark eyes, too intense. And she knew he was being honest. He would help her.
Gratitude swelled up in her chest, enveloping her. She wasn’t alone anymore. She hadn’t realized how much that would mean to her, but the emotion was so strong she was afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d start bawling. So she just nodded and hoped Caden understood.
He smiled. “Let’s get this over with quickly, then.”
Rae leaned her bike against the wall and pulled her cell phone out of her backpack to text Vivienne, then paused.
She had a text message from an unknown number.
Frowning, she tapped it open.
And all those warm feelings vanished immediately when she saw the words on her screen.
UNKNOWN: Did you like the picture I left you? I could send you more; I have several in my collection.
24. CADEN
Caden had never seen the blood literally drain from a person’s face before. Until now. Rae went from pink to gray in a matter of seconds. It was like watching a photograph fade in sped-up time, and the fear rolled off her like a tsunami, threatening to take him under too. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She tore her gaze away from her phone and whipped around, scanning the trees nearby, the other houses, the street.
“What?” Caden asked again, doing his own quick search. Nothing was there, only the other quiet houses and the silently watching woods.
“I just… Someone texted me.” Rae showed him her phone.
The words were chilling, the kind of thing a serial killer would do when playing with a future victim…
“Do you think he’s here now?” Rae whispered. “Watching us?”
“No,” Caden said, more confidently than he felt.
“Are you sure? Because it’s awfully coincidental, him texting me like that right before we break into his house.”
“You think Doctor Anderson sent that text?”
Rae nodded. “He made a creepy comment about collections when I met with him before. And look at that punctuation. Who uses a semicolon in a text message?”
“Some kind of psycho,” Caden said.
“Exactly. But a well-educated psycho.” Rae took one last look around at the trees, her face still too pale.
The woods didn’t feel like they had the night Brandi stumbled out of them. They felt quiet, the sound of the rain trickling off the branches almost soothing. Unlike the house, which seemed restless, like it had been patient for too long and wasn’t going to wait much longer.
“We can come back later,” Caden said.
Rae shook her head. “I’m not sure I’ll have that chance.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket and turned to the window, running her fingers along the edge and pressing up. The window slid open half an inch. “I guess he doesn’t lock his windows. Lucky us.”
Was it lucky? Caden’s stomach clenched uneasily. Doctor Anderson had been a very private and careful person. Why would he leave his windows unlocked?
Rae worked her fingers into the gap and pushed. The window slid another few centimeters before it stuck again, the wood warped from all the humid East Coast summers. Caden moved to the other side and helped her. Slowly, the window squeaking and sticking and fighting them for every inch, they got it open almost a whole foot.
“Good enough?” Caden panted.
“I can fit through that.” Rae looked him over. “You probably won’t have a problem either. You’re pretty scrawny.”
“I think you mean ‘lean-muscled,’ ” Caden said.
Rae laughed. “Sure. Why not?” She tucked her backpack against the side of the house, out of the rain, hauled herself up on the window ledge in one smooth motion, and vanished inside.
Caden blinked, surprised. Apparently, when Rae decided to do something, she didn’t waste a lot of time. He supposed he should have realized that by the way she plunged into the woods the other day, not to mention their lack of a real plan now. He hoisted himself up and stuck his head and shoulders in, doing a quick scan of the inside. All he could make out in the gloom was a dining room table and chairs. He wriggled forward on his belly, then lowered himself down the wall in an awkward roll, pulling his legs in after him and managing to land on his head.
“Interesting choice,” Rae said.
“Sorry, I don’t have a lot of experience breaking into houses,” Caden grumbled. He clambered to his feet and shoved the window closed, blocking out the sound of the rain. Immediately the house felt too quiet and still. He could feel it pressing in on him, full of the memories of the last time he was here. His mom had set her supplies up on that dining room table, and for a second he almost saw them: her candles, the abalone shell, the smudge sticks, and her three singing bowls.
Caden shook the memory off, along with rain droplets that dripped from his hair to the wood floor.
“You okay?” Rae asked.
“I’m fine,” he said firmly.
Aiden hadn’t haunted him since the Friday night Book of Shadows incident, but as Caden followed Rae through the house, it felt as if his brother were walking next to him again, like he had that evening nine months ago. Memories of that visit overlapped everything he saw now.
“Here is where we lit our smudge sticks,” Aiden seemed to whisper. Caden paused and looked at the fireplace. “And there’s the photograph Mom wanted to move out of the house. But the doctor refused, remember?”
Caden turned and looked at the slightly saggy brown suede couch, and above it, the large framed photo of a striking woman in her mid-fifties, her chin gently resting against her hands. He remembered that argument.
Doctor Anderson had been furious at the suggestion, claiming it would be a dishonor to his late wife’s memory to remove that photo. Their mom had insisted, explaining that there was a lot of negative energy attached to it. The two of them had gone back and forth, until finally Caden’s dad had set up a small incense stand of sage and sandalwood below the photo, letting the smoke cleanse the energy from it.
“It didn’t work,” Aiden said. “Every time he looks at it, he thinks of her death. He stares at it for hours sometimes, and his despair and anger grow and become tangible things. I’ve watched him.”
Caden started. This wasn’t his memory after all; Aiden was back. He’d survived. “I’m so glad,” Caden whispered, relieved.
“What?” Rae said.
“Nothing,” Caden said quickly, turning away from the photo. He didn’t want to tell Rae that his brother was talking to him again.
“I get lost here, in the Other Place. Everything moves strangely, and that light—that constantly pulsing light—changes things, makes distances imp
ossible to judge. But I could always find my way back to this house. It was the only place I could find, at first. I needed another anchor.”
Caden thought of his mother’s sloppy summoning spell from last week.
“Now you’re getting it. She gave me something to focus on.”
A hand on his shoulder. Caden jumped, but it was only Rae, peering up at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
He glanced at her hand, his cheeks reddening. “I’m fine.” He walked out of the living room, past the neatly organized bookshelves and the landscape oil painting, and paused in the painfully clean kitchen. Just beyond it the hall extended, long and empty and very dark.
Caden hesitated. He knew what lay at the end of this hall. That sense of restlessness built, like a boiling pot with a too-tight lid.
Rae glanced at him again. He wished she’d stop. “You’re sweating,” she said.
He wiped a hand across his forehead, and it came away damp. “It’s just from the rain outside,” he lied.
“You should go. You’re not safe here. And neither is your little girlfriend.”
Rae started down the hall, flinching at every creak in the floorboards beneath her. Caden followed, trying to ignore Aiden’s voice. Shadows seemed to drip from the corners of the hallway, making it darker than it should have been, and the sense of disquiet grew stronger until it felt like the house was squeezing him in one anxious fist.
Whatever Aiden had started that night nine months ago hadn’t ended when Caden closed the rift into the Other Place. Maybe Rae was right, and Doctor Anderson had been possessed by the Unseeing. And maybe he’d been working on reopening the portal ever since.
Aiden had told him that all major spells required several layers of energy. First, the foundation—for dark spells, that usually meant some kind of horrifying ritual. And then that energy needed to be stoked and banked like a well-tended fire, eventually serving as fuel for the spell itself.
