by Shaye Easton
The image changes again. A snippet of an interview with a large, bearded man dressed in a dark blue uniform is shown. Text at the bottom of the screen identifies him as the chief of police. “The sheer scale of the crime suggests multiple weapons and multiple assailants,” he says. “This was no doubt a brawl. In cases like this, at least one perpetrator always ends up leaving evidence. I’m positive something will turn up.”
“Police are still searching for missing teen, Lauren Archer. The community has reached out to her family with kind words and gifts, but it’s little comfort while they await for the safe return of their daughter. A truly horrific conclusion to what should have been a night of harmless, teenage fun. Over to you, Casey.”
The news moves on. I press mute.
“They didn’t mention the duplicates.”
I spin around. Caden and Rand have joined me in the living room, eyes set on the television screen. Both look grim.
Caden goes on. “The whole gang storyline is obviously some sort of cover-up. Could it have been some overwalkers on the force?”
Rand shakes his head. “The Ring wasn’t involved. The underwalkers obviously have some of their own in high places.”
“At least they’re being discreet. Better late than never.”
Rand crosses his arms and exhales. “Everyone’s gone crazy.”
I frown at him. “Why do you say that?”
“Spectres have had universal laws in place since the origin of our kind. We don’t make spectacles of ourselves. We keep our existence a secret. But last night, the underwalkers violated that. The spectre world has never been so out of control.”
“It’s me,” I say. “It’s all happening because of me.”
Again, Rand shakes his head. “No, this is happening because of the prophecy. The war is coming, and we can all feel it. It’s making us do things we wouldn’t normally do.”
“We?”
“I apologise, Melissa. Our treatment to you has been cold. I wish we could have introduced you to this world in a better way, but under the circumstances, everyone was desperate to make sure you’d be on our side.”
I let my eyes fall in my hands. “Considering that the underwalkers tried to recruit me by attacking me and my family, I think you did okay.”
A phone rings. Its warbling is the only sound filling the house. Rand hurriedly digs in his pocket and raises the mobile to his ear. “Hello?”
Almost immediately, his face falls. “We’ll be right over,” he says and hangs up.
“What is it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “We need to leave.”
Rand’s dashing around, finding and pocketing his keys and wallet. Caden watches him fearfully. I get to my feet, leaving my half-empty cup of tea on the table.
“Leave for where?” Caden asks. Rand bounds down the hallway. After a confused look at each other, Caden and I follow.
Out front, Caden asks again, “Leave for where?”
Rand is already at his car. He yanks the door open and stops to look at us. “Kathryn Falconer’s house.”
My heart sinks. The Kathryn from my dream manifests in my mind, hovering there like a phantom, repeating, “You must go.” Dream Sara joins her, replete with bleeding nose and bloody bat and smoking gun.
I fling the images from my head before Dream Sara can speak. But it was a dream, not a vision. I know there’s no reason to fear what it’s telling me. And still, I do.
Caden and I pack into the car and we’re off. I swallow. “What happened?”
Rand doesn’t reply.
“Why won’t you tell us what’s going on?”
“Because I don’t know,” he says at last, frustrated. “Ryn just said to come to her place immediately. That was it.”
The ride doesn’t take long but I find I can’t keep still, rubbing my hands on my pants, bouncing my legs up and down. Never mind the fact I’m about to meet my birth mother, or my dream won’t stop haunting me. Caden’s stricken with fear, staring at Rand like he’s never seen him this way before. Something is very, very wrong.
Kathryn throws open the door when we arrive. She’s as I remember her from that day in the car park: fair-haired and dark-eyed, her features sharp and regal. Only this time, her eyes are ringed by redness, and her jaw has fallen slack. No matter how hard I try, I can’t picture her as my mother. She’s a stranger.
“Come in,” she says, ushering us inside, eyes passing over me briefly, barely. “Come in.”
Only after she’s shut the door behind us does Rand speak. “What’s happened, Ryn?”
She shakes her head and gestures for us to follow her further into the house. “She started getting worse this morning but I didn’t think it would progress this quickly.”
“She?” I ask shakily. But I already know the answer to my question. “What’s wrong with Sara?”
We finally enter the living room, and Kathryn steps aside to reveal her, lying unconscious on the couch. Her skin is three shades paler than I’ve ever seen and a line of sweat has broken out on her forehead. “She’s sick.”
“Sick?” I repeat, unwilling to comprehend what she’s truly telling us. The day has barely begun and already I’m emotionally exhausted. Things are moving too quickly. It’s too much at once.
“Dying, Melissa,” Rand says from over my shoulder. I turn to face him. “She’s dying.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
It’s suddenly extremely hard to breathe.
“This isn’t real,” I gasp. I look to Caden desperately. “Tell me this isn’t real.”
He’s silent and completely unreadable.
I panic. “Tell me they’re lying, Caden!”
“Melissa!” Rand interjects. “No one’s lying.”
The truth sinks in and I fall to my knees, my body heavy with emotion. I want to scream and thrash and cry out, but I find I can’t. It’s like someone’s wound up a spring within me and isn’t letting go—all these tension and pressure and it just sits there, unwilling to budge, even when at any moment it feels like it could all come loose.
“I’m dead,” I whisper.
“Not yet, you’re not,” Kathryn says, voice hard, almost apathetic. “Sara’s not gone. We still have a day.”
I look up into the eyes of the mother that was meant to be mine. She shouldn’t be a stranger, but she is. “A day? Is that all?”
“At the decreasing rate of her condition, I’m afraid we might not have even that.”
I close my eyes, quenching the sickness working its way up my throat. Behind me, I hear a loud pair of footsteps storm out of the room, out the front door. It slams with a resounding thud.
“Rand, don’t,” Kathryn says softly. “Give her some time.”
With my eyes shut, all I can see is last night’s blood. I drown myself in it. I let myself be consumed by horror. By disgust. By grief. Anything is better than the present. Anything is better than the violent, soul-shaking fear coursing through my veins.
“Melissa,” Kathryn says sympathetically, even though she barely knows me. “When you’re ready, join us across the hall. We’re going to fix this. You and Sara will be fine.”
Will we?
This day started with a nightmare and now it’s become one. It’s turned into everything I’ve ever feared. It’s way too much. I fold inwards; I crumple over my heart.
And like that I remain, paralysed, allowing my dwindling time to pass.
***
Sometime—possibly hours—later, I finally emerge from the hole I dug inside myself, armed with a plan. Sara is still boiling hot, a freezing cold mess, moving every now and then in her sleep. I avert my eyes and get up, moving quickly and silently outside.
Caden’s sitting on the front steps, staring fixedly at the road. I sit down beside him. The day is quiet, the roads wet, the yards covered in a thin layer of snow. The sun breaks through the clouds at random intervals, turning the ground bright white and glary, almost unbearable to look at. Everything smells earthy
and damp.
“I won’t let this happen to you,” he says after a while. “I can’t watch you die.”
“Maybe it’s my fate.”
“Don’t act like you’re okay with this.”
I shut my mouth and swallow. I wipe my hands on my pants. “Okay then, I won’t. But you should know. I’m leaving.”
“You’re what?” he turns to me.
I keep staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the gently swaying trees. “Davion has the device. The one from my memories. It’s the only thing that can possibly swap us back.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’m going to get it.”
“From where?”
“That’s not important.”
Caden’s voice is grave when he responds. “You’re not serious.”
I finally look at him, meeting his gaze head-on. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
It’s a staring contest, and it only lasts a few seconds before Caden starts to shake his head. “No way. It’s suicide.”
“And this isn’t?” I refute. “How is sitting around waiting to die the better option?”
“That’s not what we’re doing here. We’re working to save both of your lives. All we have to do is find a way to heal Sara, to give us more time to figure this thing out.”
“It’s too late for that. We’re already out of time. I have to find the device.”
“We don’t even know if it works!”
“Well, it’s all I’ve got!”
He’s still shaking his head. The sun dips through the clouds again and colours his skin gold. “Melissa, please,” he pleads, “don’t do this.”
“That’s not a valid argument, Caden. I have to swap back, and this is the only way.”
“You can’t swap back if you’re dead.”
“You’re right. I can’t. Which is why I have to go.”
His eyes are round with desperation. “Then I’m coming with you.”
This trips me up. After a couple missed beats, I find my voice again. “No way. No. If I get myself killed, that’s on me. At least I tried. But if I get you killed…” I shake my head. “I could never forgive myself.”
Out of nowhere, he laughs. The sound is warm and strong in the fragile, wintry air. “So, to get this straight, I go somewhere potentially dangerous of my own accord and get murdered by some maniac underwalker, and it’s still your fault?”
The toes of my boots are wet. I wipe them clean. “No, it’s my fault because I let you follow me there.”
My words hang in the air. Caden’s not laughing anymore. He’s staring at me like he’s just discovered something awful. “By that logic, you can blame every bad thing in the world on yourself. That’s not a weight you can carry. We’re only made to hold our own guilt, and we can only hold so much. Why in the world would you choose to hold someone else’s?”
“Does it look like that’s a choice I can make?” I say, rounding on him. “I don’t get to decide what my fault is and what isn’t. No one does.”
He leans forward. “Then let me make it simple for you. I’m coming with you. It’s my choice, not yours. And if I die, I’ll take that blame.”
“Caden…” I sigh.
“And I’ll take the blame for everything else, as well.”
I blink. “I’m sorry, everything else?”
“You blame yourself for Sara. For Lauren. For last night. For your parents. I introduced you to this world. It’s my fault. So I’m going to take your blame.”
“You can’t just—”
“Melissa,” he grabs my wrist, his hand dangerously close to my bare skin. “You’re forgiven. You can let it go. I’ll take it all.”
I stare at him, my breath caught in my throat.
“I brought you into this based on orders. Anything that happens to you is on me. I take full responsibility.”
I look away. “I wish it worked like that.”
“But it does,” he says, gently squeezing my wrist. “You just have to believe me.”
I exhale and meet his eyes. But I have nothing to tell him. I can’t let it go. I can’t.
“I’m coming with you,” he says. “Besides, I can drive and you can’t. What were you going to do? Ride the bus? Tell me where we’re going and I’ll take you there.”
I shake my head. “You’ll just get yourself killed. You don’t even have any abilities.”
“I do,” he says and I look at him. “I lied. I do.”
“What? Why would you lie?”
“Because it’d be better if I really was powerless.”
The neighbourhood is still. The frosty air has driven everyone indoors and made Corven Lake a ghost town. But it still feels like the whispering wind is hushing the world, listening to us, waiting for the revelation.
“Caden,” I’m almost afraid to ask. “What is your power?”
He smiles, but he doesn’t look happy. “Let me come with you,” he says, “and you’ll see for yourself.”
***
Caden goes back inside to swipe Rand’s keys. I don’t ask how, but he returns with them minutes later and nods for me to follow him to the car, a finger to his lips.
“They’ll hear the engine for sure,” I whisper, slipping into the passenger seat.
“Not if the wind starts howling.”
“You know I don’t have that kind of control over my abilities.”
“Don’t you?”
I strap myself in and close my eyes. My aerokinesis usually only reacts at times when I’m emotionally charged, so I figure if I draw on a strong emotion, I’ll be able to access that power. And as far as intense emotions go, I’m spoiled for choice.
I end up settling for anger, because I’m downright terrified of letting anything else back in. Anger for Lauren. Anger for Sara. Anger for myself. And all of it directed at Davion, the man who destroyed all our lives. The air is swirling outside, twirling through the dead, soggy leaves on the pavement. I have to focus intently, letting the anger burn like furnace within me, fuelling it with memories every few seconds. Slowly, I sense the the wind grow in strength, sending the branches of the trees into a frenzy, the hardy Australian leaves roaring.
“That should do it,” Caden says after a few minutes. He turns the key in the ignition and shifts the car into gear. I keep my focus, my heart pumping quickly with all that rage. We make it down the drive and out onto the road, and at the end of the block. Then, I let it all go.
“That was incredible.” Caden laughs.
I look at him, my anger dissipating, my pulse slowing back down. “Was it?”
“Melissa, you’ve been swapped; you shouldn’t even be able to access your powers. And even with that aside, you’re new to this. You’ve had no training. I mean, it defies explanation. You simply shouldn’t have been able to do that.”
“You seemed to think I could.”
“Yeah, but—even I didn’t expect it to that extent. You must have had the wind howling through the entire neighbourhood.”
“Huh,” I say.
He laughs. “That’s all you have to say?”
I was wrong. My anger isn’t dissipating. I’ve opened the door. I’ve let it back in, and it’s not going to just walk back out. It’s clinging to me with everything it’s got.
My life’s a mess. Sara’s dying. Lauren’s dead. And someone needs to pay for it.
It’s time I paid Davion a visit.
I direct Caden using maps on my phone. Earlier, I looked over my vision of Davion and Newman outside the bare industrial building and caught a glimpse of a street number. I also saw a road sign. It was all too easy to plug them into Google and pull up an image of the street, brightly coloured and sunny, clearly photographed before my arrival.
We park a block down and walk the rest of the way, passing a small park and a number of quiet houses. There’s no traffic on the street and no people on the footpath. It seems the entire town is still and silent. The emptiness is only the smallest of incongruities, but it
makes the whole place feel deeply unnatural, like a dream gone bad.
“This way,” I whisper, and lead Caden across the road, grimacing every time one of us makes a sound. My heart thrums in my chest. Every step I take brings me closer to a place I may very well have been before. And on cue, one of my memories flashes before my eyes: a darkened room; a man silhouetted in the light from an open door; a cold object pressed to my chest; pain. The device that swapped me. The device that will swap me back.
There’s a checklist in my mind: one, get inside; two, locate the device; three, find Davion. At four, everything starts to fall apart. My anger keeps leading me down to different avenues. Some are more disturbing than others. What do I hope to do when I find him? Am I after an interrogation or a blood-letting? Am I capable of either? A broken part of me wants to see him lying in a pool of his own blood, growing paler and paler with each passing second until he’s whiter than I am—than Sara lying on a faraway couch as her body slowly shuts down.
Without realising it, I’ve led Caden down the side of the building to the nondescript, almost invisible door where I saw Davion step out in my vision. I stop before it. My hands, legs and body shaking.
Caden takes my hand in his and squeezes. I stare down at his glove, at the thin layer of fabric separating our skin. “We’re going to be alright.”
There’s no reason for the door to be unlocked. I reach for the handle, expecting resistance, and jolting when I find none. Some part of me, deep down, knows this is a bad sign. But I can’t hear any of its warnings over the sound of my pounding anger.
I swing the door open and we slip inside.
Chapter Thirty-Five
As it turns out, the door was my first hint.
My second was the pitch black darkness inside the building.
The door closes softly behind us and we’re submerged. I shiver. It’s like the emptiness of the world outside: innocuous and perfectly explainable, but mix it in with everything else and it turns your stomach. Now it’s perfectly silent and dark. I feel lost in a void, alone and drifting, a million miles from anywhere I’ve ever been. My heart is beating like crazy. Where is Caden? Where is—
