by Anna Day
Later, Mum told me that Nate had died the day before I awoke, that he’d flatlined for three minutes before they’d managed to revive him. Three whole minutes. I can’t even hold my breath for two. I remember Mum’s face, draining of all color as she whispered the words: I will never forget the sound of that flatline, Violet. And I remember thinking: Neither will I.
Alice hands me her Kindle and I finally sink into the chair beside him. I rest one hand on his arm, which feels surprisingly warm, and with the other, I load up the first page of our manuscript. The Sequel to The Gallows Dance—The Gallows Song.
Alice peers over the bed at the screen. “No,” she blurts out. “Go straight to the good bit, you know, the bit he’ll really love.”
“Yeah, don’t make him listen to the setup,” Katie says, perching on the bed. “The poor thing must be bored out of his tree as it is.”
We never talk about it, my friends and I—why we fell into comas in the first place, why we woke within minutes of one another, Nate’s mysterious bullet wound—but I sometimes wonder if they have strange post-coma dreams, too, if they’re busy piecing together their own patchwork of disjointed memories. Because it’s like they know Nate can really hear us, like they know there’s something a bit different—a bit special—about the Comic-Con Four.
I drum my finger against the page-turner button, jumping through the electronic words until I find the right place. The entrance of the boy. The only character Alice and I could agree on one hundred percent from the get-go.
Then I squeeze Nate’s warm flesh, and I begin to read.
Thorn circled the boy, looking him up and down. “And you think you can help us why?”
The boy smiled—his face all angles and mischief—and pushed his sandy hair from his forehead. “Because I may look like a dumb Imp kid, but I’m as clever as your average Gem. That makes me perfect spy material, don’t you think?”
“OK, you think you’re so clever … prove it.”
“You’re a Gem,” the boy said.
Thorn scowled. “That’s not so difficult to work out. I’m tall and I have symmetrical features.”
“It wasn’t that. Imps can be tall and attractive, too. Your voice gave you away—you try too hard to flatten your vowels.”
Thorn adjusted his eye patch, pretending he wasn’t rattled. “Well, you’re certainly braver than the average Gem, I’ll give you that. What’s your name, Imp?”
The boy grinned his pixie grin. “Nate.”
First, to my wonderful parents. I grew up in a house filled with stories and love, sci-fi and music, laughter and kindness and freshly made cakes. I carry those things in my heart, always. You provide me with endless love and support. You’ve made me who I am.
To my fabulous readers: Lucy Fisher, Liam Gormley, Jenny Hargreaves, Steve Lee, Helen Spencer, Heather Thompson, Len and Gill Waterworth (Mum and Dad), Isobel Yates, and Helen Yates. You are some of my dearest family and friends; my cheerleading squad of wise Yodas. Thank you!
To my awesome friends. You’ve dried my tears, distracted me, and made me laugh. You’ve given me the strength I’ve needed during the past few years, and I love you all for it.
To the Times and Chicken House for holding the Times/Chicken House Children’s Fiction Competition every year, which gives random, unknown writers (like me) the amazing opportunity to be published.
To everyone at Chicken House—what an amazingly supportive group of people. To Barry Cunningham and Rachel Leyshon for their generous encouragement, guidance, creativity, and their constant faith in me as a writer. To Jazz Bartlett for insisting Barry read my first manuscript, and for her brilliant publicity ideas. To Elinor Bagenal for doing such a fantastic job selling The Fandom all around the world. And of course, to my editor, Kesia Lupo, who has been a joy to work with. I honestly don’t know how I ever wrote before I met you, Kesia. You provide endless ideas, clarity, and containment. And thank you for convincing me not to kill you-know-who!
To the Big Idea Competition, for recognizing the potential in Angela’s idea, and of course to Angela McCann, for having such a big idea in the first place. The stars definitely fell into line the day you entered said competition. Thank you!
And finally, to Ajda Vucicevic, for all her help with my first manuscript, the novel that caught Chicken House’s eye. Her encouragement and faith in me at the beginning of my writing adventure gave me the confidence to carry on, and I will always be eternally grateful to her.
Thanks again, guys. I couldn’t wish for a better fandom!
ANNA DAY grew up and still lives in the northeast of Egland. She has always loved creative writing; even as a little girl, she would staple pieces of paper together and write stories for her parents to read. She writes YA fiction because it feels right … and she’s very much a fangirl herself.
Copyright © 2018 by Anna Day
All rights reserved. Published by Chicken House, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, CHICKEN HOUSE, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by Chicken House, 2 Palmer Street, Frome, Somerset BA11 1DS.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
ISBN 978-1-338-23270-7
First edition, May 2018
Jacket design by Helen Crawford-White and Ellizabeth B.Parisi
Thorn image © Colleen Farrell/Arcangel Images
e-ISBN 978-1-338-23272-1
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
