Dead End

by C. P. Rider

  People filtered out of the stores and offices down the street and gathered on the sidewalk across from the school. One raised her hand, and a fireball flew from her fingertips and hit the noisy worm in the face—or whatever was on the front end of his body.

  It left a char mark on his diaphanous flesh, but didn't faze him much.

  Dr. Pacifico threw open the door to his dental office and propelled down the sidewalk on his fin. The way he moved reminded me of an ice skate blade gliding across an ice rink. He made a clicking sound with his tongue, then flung his long green hair over one blue shoulder, puffed out his cheeks, and blew in the direction of the worm on the left, the one now nearest the children. A crystal blue ocean wave formed beneath the creature and lifted it fifty feet in the air.

  "Whoa." I sounded dumb, but what else could I say when faced with a merman periodontist who could summon tidal waves out of thin air?

  After another click of his tongue, Dr. Pacifico inhaled, and the wave disappeared. The enormous thin-skinned worm dropped out of the sky and splatted on the street, worm guts splashing everyone unfortunate enough to be standing nearby.

  "Ugh." Cindy swiped the smelly fluid out of her eyes.

  Attracted by their fallen comrade's guts, the other four worms changed direction and fell upon the corpse like a mob. They consumed every scrap, crushing its cartilage with their teeth and making rude slurping sounds with their long tongues. Then, as one, all six worms turned back to face the children and the chess teacher.

  "Okay, we're way worse off now."

  Cindy gripped my shoulders. Shook me. "Make a hole. A deep one. Bury them."

  "What? I can't bury one of those things. You saw me today. I can't even make a hole big enough to bury Samuel in, or I’d have done it the twentieth time he told me he couldn't believe I was this inept at using my ability."

  "You can do it. I believe in you."

  "Cindy, I can't…"

  "You have to. There's no time. Dr. Pacifico can't do it again. He needs to recover." We both glanced at the dentist, who was sprawled on his back, gulping air.

  "But…" The rest of my sentence died as the first worm cleared the sidewalk six feet from where the children were huddled. "Okay. I'll try."

  We moved closer, well within tongue-grabbing range of the worms.

  I pinched my eyes closed. Tried to concentrate, but all I could think about was how scared I'd been when that worm wrapped its sticky tongue around Toby.

  Nothing.

  But then, my ability had never been affected by fear.

  Fisting my hands at my sides, I tried again. There was a slight rumble beneath my feet. Problem was, that's not where I needed it to be.

  "Something is happening, I can feel it," Cindy whispered. "Uh, FYI, so can the limpid worms."

  My eyes flew open.

  As one, six worms pointed their empty faces at me. Six tongues flicked out. One of them slapped Cindy's shoes and tried to wrap around her ankle. She managed to sidestep out of its reach and we both backed away down the street, drawing the worms with us. Another tongue whipped out like a lash, leaving a bright red mark on her calf.

  "Don't touch my friend," I yelled.

  This time when I thought about how these things had tried to eat my dog—and now Cindy—I didn't get scared.

  I got angry.

  Without thinking, I reached for my ability. Forced myself to relax into it—the way Samuel had taught me. Once I stopped trying to force it, the power flowed into me. When I had it simmering nice and easy, I let my gaze drop to the ground beneath the worms.

  And then I turned up the heat and waited for it to boil.

  This time, when I felt the rumbling, it wasn't under my feet. I pushed harder, and a sound like the cracking of a thousand whips at once rent the air. The children clapped their hands to their ears. The Dead Enders on the sidewalks did the same.

  Hairline cracks appeared on the blacktop, spidering the surface of the street. I pushed a little more, and the cracks widened. The whip-crack sound, which was coming from under the street, grew louder. The worms' full attention was on me now. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Skip lead the children away.

  "Maria, they're getting closer," Cindy whispered, "Hurry."

  More anger. I needed more.

  My mind flipped through traumatic memories… Mom's death and Dad's abandonment of me at the cafe—but that only made me sad—Kilshaw and his goons—that made me fearful—and finally landed on the one person capable of making me want to choke the life out of him with every stupid word out of his lying mouth.

  My not-a-ghost ex-boyfriend, Aedan.

  I hit the street below those worms with all the anger of a woman scorned.

  The road fractured and ragged chunks of blacktop stuck up in the air like broken glass, stabbing into the worms' skin, making them hiss and shriek.

  It wasn't enough.

  I pictured Aedan's smart-ass smile and sent another jolt of energy into the ground beneath the smashed-up street.

  The worms let out a scream like so many foghorns as a yawning chasm opened beneath them and swallowed them—and the street—in one giant bite.

  18

  The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the grass in a puddle of worm gunk, with my grandfathers and Cindy kneeling over me.

  "She's fine, Hollister," Abuelo Emilio was saying, "considering what she did. I would have expected more blood than this."

  Grandpa Holli dabbed at my mouth with a handkerchief. It came away stained red and brownish green. Worm insides. Blech.

  Abuelo stood, crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell your grandpa you're all right. He's worried."

  "I'm okay." I was impressed the lie came out as steady as it did, because I felt anything but okay.

  "No, you are not." Grandpa Holli dabbed my mouth again. His hand was shaking. "You're covered in blood. It's coming from your nose, your mouth, even your ears. What were you thinking? You could have been killed."

  "She was thinking that if she did nothing, those children would die." Abuelo lifted a silver eyebrow. "That's not true, by the way. Emergency services would have taken care of it with liquid nitrogen. It's the cleanest way to kill them."

  "Cleaner than burying them under ten tons of soil?" Cindy asked.

  I smiled at her. She was always sticking up for me. I'd never had a friend like that before.

  "I did what I thought I had to." With Cindy and Grandpa Holli's help, I sat up. A speed metal band was playing a rage song inside my skull, but I didn't throw up and I thought that was pretty amazing. "Are those things dead?"

  Grandpa Holli nodded. "They could not have survived you dropping them that deep."

  My eyes settled on the enormous sinkhole in the middle of the street. "I don't want anyone to fall in."

  "Oh, the city will put up a safety barrier," Grandpa Holli said.

  "I'll come back later tonight and see what I can do to fill the hole." Abuelo Emilio pulled a folded newspaper out of his back pocket and tucked it under his arm. "Let's go home. Dinner is almost ready."

  After dinner—which Cindy didn't stay for since the tension between my abuelo and me was "thick enough to spread on a cracker," as Dad liked to say—things got quiet. The sort of quiet where you're waiting for something loud to happen and when it does, you aren't ready for it even though you knew it was on its way.

  Grandpa Holli excused himself from the table, saying he had a headache, and left the room. He hadn't cleared the doorway when Abuelo asked, "Where did you learn to do that?"

  "Use my ability? I've had it all my life."

  He shook his head. "That level of control only comes with practice."

  "I've been practicing."

  "With whom? Cindy? Or Samuel Bekker?"

  The way Abuelo said Samuel's name made me second-guess telling him the truth. It was obvious he either knew or strongly suspected what was going on. In the end, though, I didn't lie. I'd never liked lying, partly because I'd had to do so much of it
back home. There, no one could know what I was or what I could do.

  "Samuel. Cindy goes along for moral support."

  "That young man wants you to get him through a ripper so he can find his sister, right?"

  "Yes." If you already know the answer, why ask?

  "So, he's using you."

  "And I'm using him. I told you I was going to find my dad."

  The creases between his eyebrows deepened. "You have no idea how dangerous that is."

  "I've seen the animal bones out there." I folded my unused napkin, tucked it under my plate. I hadn't eaten much. My stomach wasn't all that happy with me. It had a lot in common with my abuelo.

  "You think the danger lies in a pile of animal bones?"

  I swallowed. "Tell me, then. How dangerous is it? Because no matter what you tell me, it won't matter. I'd walk through fire to find Dad."

  "Will you risk getting yourself, Cindy, or the Bekker kid killed? Because that's what's going to happen. You aren't strong enough to hold a ripper long enough for someone to walk through."

  "Can you?"

  The answer was in his eyes. He could do it.

  "Teach me how, Abuelo. Or help me do it," I begged.

  "No."

  The word was a slap in the face. "Why not?"

  "Because it's dangerous in more ways than you can fathom." He stood, gathered up his newspaper. "You need to accept that you cannot return to your side of the Divide. If your father is meant to be here, he'll find a way."

  Wishful thinking. That's a great life philosophy. Except for the part where it never works.

  "You know, I'll say one thing for Samuel, Abuelo. At least he doesn't make me feel like garbage for using my ability."

  His brows dropped over his eyes. "I won't tell you again, Maria. Leave the rippers alone."

  And with that, he left the room. Guess we were finished talking about it.

  I gathered up the dinner dishes and washed them. Wiped down the stove, the counters, the table. When neither grandfather appeared, I decided to go to my room.

  "Come on, Toby. Let's get you a fresh tie."

  As I passed the doorway leading to the grandpas' bedroom, I paused. They were arguing.

  "…then why don't you show her, Emilio?"

  "I made that mistake once…"

  "…you're making another one now…"

  "Amor, you don't understand."

  "Then explain it to me."

  I hung my head. My grandpas loved each other so much the emotion radiated from them like the heat from the sun, warming everything it touched. Mom had told me about it when I was a child. How much she'd loved being loved by them.

  And now they were fighting because of what I had done. Mom would be so disappointed in me.

  "We should have never come here, Toby."

  I pushed open the door to my bedroom and nearly jumped out of my skin.

  "How long does it take you to eat dinner, Maria? I've been waiting for hours."

  As my pulse wound its way back to normal, I covered my shock with annoyance. It wasn't difficult with the astral-projecting dream boy smirking at me. "Go away, Aedan."

  "Why?" He tilted his head to the side. "What's going on?"

  "Nothing."

  "You used to tell me everything."

  "I used to tell you some things, and that was before I knew you were a lying jerkface."

  "Come on. Talk to me."

  It was wrong.

  It was probably stupid.

  But my emotions were all bottled up inside me and I had to talk to someone before I exploded. Cindy wasn't around, and if I tried hard, I could ignore the stupid things Aedan had done and remember who he was before, when I liked him so much. Besides, with him on the other side of the Divide, it wasn't as if the information would mean much to him.

  I told him everything.

  "You were able to open a ripper long enough to let something pass through?" He looked impressed. "I disagree with your grandpa. You're definitely strong enough to hold a ripper open, you just need practice. It had to take a lot of strength to open that hole in the street today, too."

  I shrugged. "My abuelo doesn't think so."

  "He's worried about you. Isn't that what grandpas are supposed to do? I don't have grandparents, but I've heard this is how it usually works."

  "He's not worried about me. Grandpa Holli, maybe. But Abuelo? He can't stand me. I think it's because he was expecting my mom that day in the café. Not only was I not Mom, but I also had to tell him his daughter was dead." I sniffed. "I mean, I get it. Compared to her, I must be a huge disappointment."

  "I doubt that's true," Aedan said gently.

  "God, I just want to go home. Thanks for making that impossible, you ass."

  "My employer did that, not me." He paced in front of my dresser. "You said your other grandpa was okay with you being there, didn't you?"

  "Yeah, but they're arguing about me right now. I'm causing problems between them."

  "Maybe they already had problems and your being there is just making them worse."

  "You said that like you think that would be better. How is that better, you giant dork?"

  He winced. "In my defense, it sounded nicer in my head."

  "You should have kept it in there." Toby sniffed around the place where Aedan's shoes would be if he were corporeal. "Why doesn't my dog freak out when you show up? He doesn't care for ghosts."

  "I'm alive. Maybe he can tell the difference."

  "I wish he couldn't so I could give him a treat every time he growled at you."

  "Mean," Aedan said, but he smiled.

  "Go away."

  "Why? So you can wallow in self-pity?"

  "Yes. Now go, beat it, skedaddle. I've got a lot of wallowing to do."

  "Skedaddle? You sound like a grandma."

  "Yeah, well I live with two grandpas. You pick up things. Go away."

  "Are you sure you want me to go? I could listen in on your grandpas. Find out what they're arguing about."

  I sat cross-legged on my bed, patted the comforter. Toby hopped up beside me. His bow ties were neatly laid out in my nightstand drawer where Grandpa Holli had left them after washing and starching them. And ironing them.

  I think retirement was boring Grandpa Holli right out of his mind.

  "Why does your dog wear ties?" Aedan watched as I slipped the new bow tie onto Toby's collar and refastened it around his neck.

  "Why do you wear clothes?"

  "Because I don't want to start a riot."

  I burst out laughing. "A riot of police fighting over who gets to arrest you for indecent exposure?"

  "A riot of people attracted to my hot body." He swung his hips in an exaggerated dance move.

  I laughed again. "That dance was not hot."

  "Maybe not, but it made you laugh."

  "Was that your intention?"

  He lifted a shoulder, plopped on the bed. "I wouldn't have minded if you had been overcome with passion."

  That got another laugh out of me. "Aedan, why do you keep coming to see me?"

  "Because I like you."

  "So much that you had no trouble betraying me. If I was still over there, you'd do it again in a heartbeat."

  "Would I?" He scooted closer to me on the bed. "If you recall, I'm the one who helped you turn the lock."

  "Yeah, I've been meaning to ask how you knew to do that."

  "I've known about Sanctum my entire life. My ancestors were from there."

  "Really?" I sat up straighter on the bed. "Who were your ancestors?"

  He gave me a duh look. "Uh, they're all dead. I don't think you know them."

  "Wow, I was just asking. You've become a real smart-ass since you gained the ability to speak."

  "I was always a smart-ass. It's just there's no way to express sarcasm when writing on steamed mirrors."

  There was no winning with the guy. My best course of action was to ignore 90% of what came out of his mouth and shoulder forward.

 
; "Was your mom from Sanctum?"

  He shook his head. "She was from over here. Had no idea what she was getting into when she married…" He let the sentence trail off. "I don't want to talk about her."

  "Why not? We've talked about my mom."

  "Because it's too sad and I don't like sad things."

  "What's sad about it?"

  He fell back on my comforter, stared up at the ceiling. "Tell me the saddest thing you can think of."

  "Someone being hurt. Animal, human."

  "And why would someone hurt someone else?"

  "Because they're an a-hole."

  "People aren't generally born a-holes. How do they become one?"

  "I don't know. They're crazy? Abused themselves? Lonely? Unloved?"

  "I mean, that's kind of it, right? If all good things come from love, then don't the bad things come from the absence of it?"

  I relaxed against my pillow, pulled Toby onto my lap. "Your dad didn't love your mother?"

  "She was a means to an end." He smiled grimly.

  "So, what does that make you?" I asked.

  "An end."

  19

  School was different the day after the worm incident. The students who had pretty much shunned Cindy and me before were now saying hi to us in the halls, smiling at us—I even got a high five.

  "You, not us." She hugged her books tighter to her chest as we walked toward our final class of the day. One of her blonde braids was flipped over her shoulder, while the other bounced against her back. "You're the one with the ability."

  "Nah, I think it's both of us."

  "I could save a school bus full of newborn kittens and I'd still be a lesser to them."

  "Samuel said that's a slur. Why do you keep saying it?"

  "I've been called it all my life by people like that. If I say it first, it takes some of the sting out of their insult."

  "Hey." I nudged her. "Are you sure you aren't overreacting?"

  The hurt in her eyes made me wish I could take the words back. Her shoulders hiked up to her ears as she brought her books up against her chest like a shield.