“It will be okay, mom,” Josh yelled. “I found him. Everything will be okay.”
She struggled to keep her voice calm. “Nate will take care of you, honey. He’ll get you out.”
“Not Nate.” Josh glanced at the bleachers, then back to Rachel. “I found Dad.”
Rachel opened her mouth, but no words came.
“Josh.” Nate said, stepping forward, holding the trident like a sword.
“I needed him, and he came, Mom. Everything’s going to be okay, just like you said.”
Her fingers slipped from the jamb, and then she was being dragged down the hall, faster and faster, and there wasn’t one thing she could do to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nate passed Josh and raced for Rachel.
The door swung closed, and he slammed into the bar with all his weight, all his strength.
It didn’t budge.
“She’ll be okay.”
Nate turned to face Josh.
“Who told you that? Your dad?”
“Yeah.” Josh glanced at the bleachers, as if Steven was sitting there right now.
Nate gripped the trident in his hands, no one to fight but a kid’s memories of his dad. He couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let Rachel be taken, couldn’t let Josh down, couldn’t fail Steven one more time.
“Josh, I’m so sorry, for everything that’s happened.”
“It’s okay now.”
“Your dad was a very smart man, Josh. Very brave. Sometimes he made mistakes, like all of us make mistakes, like I have made mistakes. But he always stepped up to do the right thing in the end. No matter what it cost him.”
Nate hoped the faery was still listening. That it understood his apology was for it, although even if it did, Nate wasn’t sure anything he could say would matter, that anything could make up for what he and Steven had done to it.
“Your dad was a good man, Josh.”
Josh nodded, then looked back at the bleachers and smiled.
Nate continued. “But your dad isn’t here.”
“Yes, he is.” Josh pointed. “Right there.”
“I don’t see anything. Only you see him, because he’s in your memory.”
“No. He’s right there.”
“He’s not, Josh. I’m sorry.”
“Why can’t you see him?”
“He’s not there. That’s not your dad.”
“Yes, it is! Don’t you see? Don’t you believe me?”
“I do, I just…” Nate looked down at the trident, then held it out to Josh. “Take this.”
Josh gripped the handle, staring open-mouthed at the odd little fork. And as soon as he touched it, Steven appeared, sitting in the bleachers’ third row, as solid and real in his old Green Bay sweatshirt and smudged wire-rimmed glasses as he had been the last afternoon Nate had seen him alive.
“You’re not Steven,” Nate said.
“You see him now?” Josh said, beaming.
His father gave him a smile, then focused on Nate. “Nothing truly dies, Nate. Life energy just changes forms. After the work we did together, you of all people should know that.”
“You’re feeding off Josh’s memories.”
“No, Josh needed me, and I’m here for him. Simple as that.”
“What about Rachel? Does she need you?”
“Yes.”
Nate motioned to the door. “So that’s how you’re here for her? You let her nightmares drag her away?”
“That’s her choice. But you, Nate, you need me, too.”
Nate had thought he was prepared for anything the faery could throw at him, but this wrinkle was new. “What is that supposed to mean? That you’re keeping me here? That I’m your prisoner?”
“The only one imprisoning you is yourself.”
Nate shook his head. “You’ve lost me now.”
“Guilt is a prison.” Steven rose from his perch, stepped down to the gym floor, and faced Nate eye-to-eye. “You say you’re sorry for mistakes you and I made, and I am too. But you never could have prevented my death. There was nothing you could have done.”
Nate opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking.
“Forgive yourself, Nate. Set yourself free.” Steven held out his hand.
Nate stared at it a long while. This man looked and sounded just like his friend, but it wasn’t Steven. Not in the way Nate knew him when he was alive.
Still if those we love live on in our memories, then this had to be a version of him. Maybe it was part faery, Nate didn’t know, but a part of Steven was there too, the part that lived on in the memory of his son.
“Thank you, Josh,” Nate said, then he took Steven’s offered hand and gave it a firm shake.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hands dragged Rachel down the hall. Voices filled her head.
Oh, I feel so sorry for you. Nate didn’t even do anything to save you.
Yeah, it was like he didn’t care or anything, or at least not enough.
Rachel shook her head, trying to shut out all those girls from the past, their words haunting her, mocking her, beating her down. Even when she graduated and realized those girls had never really mattered, the doubts wouldn’t stop. They carried on, drawing blood, and yet never causing an outward mark.
And how about your son? He seemed to like your husband better. Need him more.
Oh, bless your heart.
If either of them really needed you, they would have done something, even if you told them not to.
No one needs you. No one wants you. I guess that must mean you’re free, huh? That must feel good.
They dragged her around the corner. They were moving fast now, Rachel no longer able to stop them, no longer even trying. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognized they were taking her back to the girl’s bathroom, that end stall, the toilet.
And this time she wouldn’t come out.
She leaned her head back, let the voices wash over her. Testimonies of her worthlessness. Seemingly innocent questions that exposed her deepest wounds. Kind comments that turned into one-upmanship before the speaker had to pause for a breath.
She focused on the placards hanging from the ceiling, their messages taunting her.
BE A BUDDY, NOT A BULLY.
BELIEVE & ACHIEVE.
SCHOOL: YOU GET OUT ONLY WHAT YOU PUT IN.
She focused on the last one, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. Her school experience had been horrible. She’d been picked on. Humiliated. Hammered into the dirt. This faery had plenty of material to tap, plenty of ways to drive her out of her mind, to make her give up.
How could she fight that?
You’ve fought it before.
The voice was tiny, more of a whisper. The voice of a frightened little girl in the toilet stall, pleading to not have her head dunked again.
The hoard of hands dragged her to the bathroom. The door swung open in front of her. The light flicked on.
You did it when Nate’s life was at stake. You did it for him. Now do it for yourself.
The girl’s voice was louder this time, stronger, and Rachel grabbed hold of it.
She had done it before. When she was trapped in the locker, she’d remembered the janitor, his kindness, his compassion. She’d drawn energy from it, taken control.
But that hadn’t been enough. As soon as she was attacked again, she’d failed. She was failing now.
Then choose to see things through different eyes.
She might not have many positive memories to draw on, not from her school days, but she’d had other experiences since.
Josh loved school. From the first day of kindergarten, he’d been excited to go every day. His teachers nurtured him, challenged him, gave him reasons to be proud of himself and his achievements.
Whenever Rachel had entered the school, bad memories had roiled her stomach. But above that, closer to her heart, she’d been able to feel the joy radiating from Josh.
A joy she cherished. A joy sh
e nurtured.
The last stall door swung open and the toilet loomed before her. But this time, she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t even here.
She was with Josh, appreciating his joy over a perfect math score.
She was with Nate, feeling the hot pressure of their hurried kiss among the cattails.
She couldn’t do anything about her bad memories and the losses in her life. They were in the past. But they didn’t have to be her future. Her future could be filled with love again. With hope. With happiness. She just had to have the courage to reach out and take it.
Rachel stared down at the toilet in front of her and realized the hands were no longer grabbing her, no longer pushing her toward the bowl. Her hair was no longer caked with food. The voices were gone, too. Silence hung in the air as if the building itself was waiting to see what happened next.
Josh.
Nate.
Rachel spun and pushed out of the bathroom. She ran down the hall, past the lunchroom, past the library, and pulled open the gymnasium door.
“Mom!” Josh yelled. He raced forward and flung himself into her arms. “I told you it would be okay. I told you!”
For a long while, all she could do was hold him, feel his warmth, smell his little boy scent, drink him in. Then she looked up at Nate smiling at her, and at the other man shaking his hand.
No, not simply another man.
Her husband.
“Steven?” It couldn’t be Steven, she knew. “I thought the hallucinations were over, but…”
“You’re not seeing your memory, Rachel,” Nate said.
Confused, she pulled her attention from Steven and focused on Nate.
“It’s the trident. Whoever is holding it, we see what he sees.”
She scanned Nate’s hands, but they were empty. Then she turned to Josh.
Her little boy held the trident for her to see. “It’s really cool, isn’t it Mom?”
She nodded, not sure her voice would work.
“See? I told you. I needed him, and he came.”
Rachel looked back to Steven, and whether he was real or a memory, her eyes welled with tears. “He sure did, honey.”
“And now you need him, too.”
“No,” Steven said. “Your mom doesn’t need me. Do you, Rachel?”
Rachel swallowed into a tight throat. She’d met Steven a week after she’d graduated high school, and since that day, her life hadn’t been the same. He’d made her feel important, made her feel worthwhile, made her feel whole. His death had dealt her a horrible blow, one she would never fully recover from.
From that day, she’d lived her life for Josh, and it was his need that saved her, but there were days when she felt so fragile, when she’d needed Steven so much, she could barely get out of bed.
She doubted those days were behind her, not all of them anyway. And she would never stop loving him. But she couldn’t hold on to only memories forever. The bad ones or the good ones. The time had come for her to let go.
“Your dad was right, Josh,” she said. “He’ll always be there when we need him, and everything’s going to be okay.”
Steven gave Nate’s hand one last shake, then stepped beside her. Taking her hands in his, he raised them to his lips, kissing them, chipped nails and all. “Be happy,” he said.
Rachel nodded then glanced at Nate. “I promise.”
Steven knelt down next to Josh. “Got things under control, buddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember what we talked about?”
“Yeah.”
“Good deal,” he said, and when Rachel blinked, Steven was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The fire engine’s flashing red lights pulsed off the school’s exterior, making the bud of a headache Val had been nursing threaten to bloom into a full-sized migraine.
“You feeling okay?” David Lund said, the reflective strips on his turnout gear making the throbbing lights worse.
“Mind turning off the lights?” she asked.
“For you? Anything.”
Val watched him signal his fellow firefighter to kill the lights. She and Lund had known each other for less than a handful of years, but over that short time, their relationship had gone through many twists and turns. First her suspect, then her lover, now something neither one of them knew how to define, there was one thing Val never questioned. If she or her niece needed someone for any reason whatever, Lund would be there. And she would do the same for him.
“I can cut through the lock,” he said, motioning to the school door.
“I think you’re going to have to.” Val’s cell phone rang. She nodded to Lund to continue and stepped off to the side to take the call. It was the station. “Ryker.”
“Val? Why didn’t you call me?” Oneida’s voice soared. “I’d have come in if I knew something weird was going on.”
“You have to sleep sometimes.”
“And you don’t?”
“No hovering.”
“Hey, that’s your rule. Not mine.”
Val checked her watch. “So why are you calling? You’re not scheduled to start your shift for another three hours.”
“Remember the Buchner kid who disappeared at that damn school last week?”
The boy who hadn’t spoken a word since. “Of course, I remember.”
“I’ve been checking on him since, poor kid. But his mom just called me.”
“In the middle of the night? Is he okay?”
“More than okay. He woke up telling her about this dream he had. Something about faeries. But it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that he was talking a blue streak.”
“That’s terrific, Oneida.”
“Yeah. What a relief, huh?”
It sure was, and despite the somewhat coincidental faery reference, the news put Val’s mind a little bit more at ease. Maybe tonight’s fiasco would work out all right in the end, too.
“Any news on the Meier boy?” Oneida asked.
“Not yet.” Val watched Lund hauling his tools to the door. “But we should have something soon.”
“Let me know, okay?”
“You’ll be the first I call.”
Just as Val ended the call and turned to watch Lund do his thing, she spotted something inside the school. “Wait,” she called to Lund.
Nate, Rachel, and Rachel’s son approached the door, then easy as strawberry rhubarb pie, they pushed out into the night.
“Hold that door,” Val called, running to meet them before the damn thing changed its mind and decided to be locked again.
Nate held the door.
“I need a word with you. All three of you,” Val said.
“Better talk to Bradley, too.”
“And where is Mr. IPPO?”
“Tied up in the gym at the moment.” Nate said.
Val excused herself to give Jimmy and fellow officer Christopher Edgar instructions, and they, along with two deputies, entered the school.
When she returned, Nate spoke first. “I suggest you call in the IPPO. Bradley has some explaining to do, and I think they’re going to want to hear.”
Fine with Val. She didn’t fully understand what was going on in this case, but with all the balls she currently had in the air dealing with the upcoming trial of Dixon Hess and settling into the police station’s new digs, she wasn’t sure she was equipped to even try. As long as Nate’s federal paranormal agency friends wanted it, she’d gladly limit herself to figuring out a way to secure the school doors so no more kids ventured inside.
She knelt down to talk to Josh. “You okay?”
“Yup.” He smiled.
“Do you remember what happened in there?”
“Yup.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Yup.”
“Can you say anything other than yup?”
He laughed, then his smiled faded. “I can talk and stuff, not like Ian.”
It took Val a second to realize who he was
referring to. “I got a call tonight. Turns out Ian woke up talking just a couple of minutes ago.”
“Really?”
“He was telling stories about faeries.”
Josh glanced at his mom and Nate. “I can tell faery stories, too.”
“I’ll bet you can.” She made a mental note to return the faery book to him once she had a chance to question Rachel and Nate about it. “You know, a lot of people were awfully worried about you. Tonight alone, your friend Gerty called the police station five times before her mother made her quit and go to bed.”
“Think I should call her now?” he asked.
Val glanced to the east, the sun still hours from peeking over the horizon. “Maybe you should text.”
Josh glanced up to his mom, the two exchanging knowing smiles. “Yeah, she’d like that.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The rest of the night seemed to drag on in a tsunami of endless questions. But finally, well into the morning, Josh was tucked into bed. Instead of tumbling into bed herself, Rachel stepped out on her front porch.
Nate was ten feet from her townhouse, heading up the sidewalk.
She had to laugh. “Checking on us?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Of course.” Over Nate’s shoulder, she could see his cat Oberon watching through the window.
“Josh asleep?” Nate asked.
“Finally. He wanted to go to school, tell everyone his adventure.”
“It was quite an adventure. He’s an amazing kid, Rachel.”
“Yeah, he is.” Rachel had always been in awe of her son, since the day he was born, but last night was proof of how extraordinary he was. He’d taken the faery in stride. And though she was sure he missed his dad even more than he wanted to let on, he seemed to have drawn strength from seeing him in the school instead of succumbing to sadness.
She felt stronger, too.
She peered through the space in their buildings, through the backyard fence at the school. Trucks surrounded the structure, and although they resembled those belonging to a construction company, she knew they were really the IPPO. “What are they going to do with the faery?”
Nate followed her gaze, a slight smile curving his lips. “Nothing.”
The School: A Supernatural Thriller (Val Ryker Series) Page 8
