by M. Kircher
Gabe grabs Mom's jerking wrist, and his fingers press down on her skin. He pauses for a moment and then nods, as though he's satisfied, and places her hand back down by her side.
"Her pulse is faint and the beat is erratic, but at least her heart is still working," he states in a matter-of-fact tone. When I shoot him a questioning look he shrugs. "My parents are scientists, so I know a little bit about how the body functions. Just the basic stuff. Your mom should probably see a medic sooner rather than later."
I'd forgotten about his parents for a moment. My brain tries to process everything, and it spins around in circles.
Evan looks from Mom, to Gabe, and then to me, his expression confused. "Can't you just wake her up?" he asks.
I shake my head. Doesn't this guy pay attention at all?
"Dreamwalking doesn't work the same way as normal sleeping." I scramble to my feet. My brain and body have caught up to each other now. I need to act, and fast.
"Well then how does it work?" asks Evan, seemingly more lost than ever.
"The dreamwalker has to want to wake up, Evan. They have to will it." I yank open the nightstand drawer, searching for clues. Maybe she left another photograph in here, something that might give me an idea about what's going in her mind. I push aside old bobby pins and tubes of lipstick.
Nothing. There's nothing.
"Mom doesn't want to wake up. She wants to be with my dad. The person dreaming has to choose to come back to the real world. No one can make them do it." I shove my hands on my hips and scan the room. Did she take any drugs this time? Sleeping pills? Anything that might screw with her brain? "Fill him in, would you?" I order Gabe, and I push Evan aside so I can get to the bathroom. But there are no pill bottles there, no open containers. Everything appears normal.
When I come back into the bedroom, Gabe and Evan have lifted Mom back onto her bed. I can see splatters of blood, along with the mud clumps from Gabe's boots, dotting the white carpet.
My palms feel sweaty as I smooth them over my jeans. I know what I have to do. And I've never been so nervous in all of my life. Everything I know about dreaming, about our gift, has shifted. I have no idea what I'll end up in when I get into Mom's mind, and no clue how to find her and bring her back to the land of the living.
"The two of you need to go…. now," I tell Evan and Gabe, and gesture toward the bedroom door. Despite the fact that Gabe's presence is reassuring in a way I don't know quite how to explain, my mother and I need to be left alone.
"No way," protests Gabe. "I can't leave you to deal with this by yourself. What if your mom falls again? You can't lift her, and I doubt you're gonna call a medic."
Well, he's got me there. But I don't need to admit it.
"I've been taking care of Mom since I was twelve, Gabe. I think I can handle it." I use as responsible of a tone as I can muster. "Thanks for your help, but I can take it from here. So please, just go."
"What do you think you're going to do?" asks Evan, as I try to usher them both out of the room. I can see the wheels in his head turning. "How can you help her?"
"Go into her dreams, of course," I snap. "I have to make her wake herself up."
Evan pushes his glasses up on his nose. "I can't let you take such a risk, Emily," he informs me gravely, as if he could really stop me. "Now that I know how dangerous this is."
"Dangerous for you, maybe, but not for me. Remember? I'm the weirdo here." I trying pushing on Gabe's back, but he doesn't budge. "Oof!" I grunt and shove him again. "I can be in her dreams as long as I want and nothing will happen to me. It's a piece of cake." But inside, I'm not so sure. Something doesn't feel right about all this. "Besides, why do you care? A couple of hours ago Mom and I were strangers to you Evan, and now you think you call the shots?"
"I'm the adult here," Evan insists, and he widens his stance when I try to tug on his arm. "If something happened to you or your mother, I'd be responsible."
I watch as his eyes linger on Mom's perfect, doll-like features, and now I get why he's embroiling himself in this mess. I drop his arm. He's falling for Mom, just like every other guy on the planet who's ever met her.
I let out an exhausted whoosh of breath and wipe my hand across my forehead. Neither guy has moved, and now they're both staring at me, waiting for some kind of response.
Gabe steps close to me and takes my hand, looking deep into my eyes. I want to pull away, but I can't. His gaze freezes me in place, and for a split second, I'm raw. I let the fear and the pain show. But then all my defenses come rushing back, and I pull away. I can't trust anyone. Not anymore, not since Dad died.
Gabe's forehead wrinkles, and he lets my hand fall. I curl my fingers into a ball. The whole thing tingles, little sparks shooting up and down in the places where our skin touched.
"What if Em takes me in there with her?" Gabe asks Evan. "That way she's not alone, and you can stay out here with Mrs. Dal Monte and make sure we both wake up on time."
"No way!" I exclaim, and the tingles from his touch vanish. "I don't need a babysitter. And I certainly don't need either of you screwing things up. This is my mother we're talking about. It's too important."
Evan scratches his chin. "I think Gabe has a fair point, Emily," he observes thoughtfully. "Whether you like it or not, I am an adult, and as such I can't in good conscience leave two teenagers alone with an injured woman, odd abilities notwithstanding." He holds up a hand as I open my mouth to argue. "Nor," he proclaims firmly, "can I let the two of you get lost in someone else's troubled mind." He shivers, probably remembering the nightmare we've just escaped. "If you don't want the police or the medics involved, Emily — and I assume you still hold firm on this?"
I shake my head. "No police and no medics. No one can find out about us. They'll do experiments, they'll run tests…it's not happening."
"Fine," replies Evan. "Then you'll just have to accept the fact that both Gabe and I will be accompanying you into your mother's dreams. You will take us all in, we'll find Lily, convince her to wake up, and then all of us will get out as soon as possible. We'll set every alarm in the house. It's the only thing I'll allow at this point. Or I call the cops."
"No," I argue and fold my arms, but I can see Gabe squinting beside me, as though he's considering Evan's plan. I ignore him. "It's too dangerous, Evan. You both could get hurt."
But Evan is not to be deterred. He folds his arms, mirroring my stance, and thins his lips. "I'm not changing my mind on this, Emily, so you need to choose. What'll it be? My plan or the police?"
I think for a second, trying to figure some way out of this mess. But I can't.
I'm so screwed.
Chapter Sixteen
My mouth is dry, and my peanut butter-covered tongue sticks to the insides of my cheeks. I take another bite of the sandwich and chase it down with a gulp of milk. I can't believe I'm in the kitchen eating PB&J while Mom is in the other room, hovering at the edge of insanity and maybe even death.
Gabe watches me as I finish the rest of the sandwich in one bite.
"Can we go now?" I ask, my mouth full. I glare at him and Evan.
Gabe shoves his own sandwich into his mouth and swallows. "Evan and I needed to eat something, Em. Who knows how long we'll be in your mom's dreams."
I tap my sneakers impatiently. "All right, well we've all eaten a sandwich and drunk our bodyweight in water. Can we please just get this show on the road? It's my mother's life we're dealing with here."
Evan nervously finishes what must be his fifth glass of water, and nods. He pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Okay, let's get going." He states this confidently, but the man is obviously terrified. His hands shake, and his eyes keep darting around the room.
Coward, I think. Bossy, nosy, interfering, coward. "I hope you wet your pants," I mutter as I whisk past him out of the room.
"What did you say?" he asks, trotting after me, and I hear Gabe following behind as well.
"Nothing," I reply, and I walk into mom's bedroom. I settle
myself on the floor beside her, putting my head up by the pillows and my feet facing toward the bottom of the bed.
I pat the carpet beside me. "Come on. Circle up, boys," I mutter sarcastically. Evan does not appear amused. He's sweating right through his plaid shirt. Gabe, on the other hand, could not look more cool and composed. Does anything freak this guy out?
We've all set our wrist screens, and the two alarm clocks Gabe and Evan found earlier, to ten a.m., which is about twelve hours from now. I've already researched how long a body can go without water, and it takes three days to die from dehydration, so we all decided twelve hours would be long enough to linger in the dream world. When the alarms go off, I'll know it's time to get us all out. With — or without — Mom.
No pressure or anything.
I take a deep breath and thread my fingers through Mom's. Her palm is cold and slightly damp. And every couple of seconds, her whole body jerks. We've had to tie her to the bed to make sure she doesn't roll off.
Gabe lies down on the floor next to me and grabs my hand. His palm is warm, and his tight grip is reassuring. He flips his head to the side and gazes into my eyes. "You're sure you want go through with this?"
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "I'm sure. I have to help my mom."
"Okay," he breathes, the embodiment of calm acceptance, and closes his eyes. Next to him, Evan stretches his thin frame out onto the carpet, and I see him take Gabe's hand. He shoots me a look of pure terror, checks his wrist screen for like the hundredth time, and then closes his eyes too.
It's all up to me now.
I take one last, long glance at the picture I've taped to the side of Mom's nightstand. The one I found with her and Dad and the red writing all over the back. My eyes strain to take in every inch of the picture — my parent's smiling faces, the desert, and the sun and sand behind them. I hope that by focusing on every detail, I'll be able to connect to the right dream. I take a deep breath and start to count my heartbeats, willing myself to relax. To forget the two guys lying beside me. To forget my fear and the fact I may never be able to wake Mom up again. I breathe in and then out. In and out.
Everything goes black.
Chapter Seventeen
The first thing I notice is how dry everything is. My tongue feels swollen inside my mouth, and there's a thin layer of grit coating my skin. It's also hot. Like, death warmed over hot. So hot my lungs feel heavy, and it hurts to breathe in the sweltering air. I'm a human baked potato, full of steam and ready to burst apart.
I open my eyes, and that's when the wall of sound and people hit me. For a moment, I am lost, surrounded on every side by people pushing and yelling and rushing to get who knows where. No one gives me the time of day as they jumble past.
"Em!" I hear a voice calling my name. I think the voice belongs to Gabe.
I blink, disoriented, and then his face materializes out of the dense, sweaty crowd. Relief courses through my body; he made it into the dream okay. I glance down and see he has a firm grip on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Why am I wearing a sweatshirt when it's a hundred degrees? I think and yank the thing off. Gabe grabs my hand before the bustling tide of people around us can carry me away. Evan pops out of the crowd now, swatting at the people who jostle him roughly aside. There are giant rivers of sweat running down the sides of his face and pooling in the dents by his collarbone.
"Where are we?" Gabe yells, and I can barely hear him even though he's standing right next to me. A man with black hair crashes into Evan and gives him a dirty look. The man curses in a language I can't understand and spits on the ground in front of us. I think we're about to have a problem, but the man steps around Evan instead and is instantly swallowed back into the crowd.
"I don't know!" I yell back. "But I think we need to get away from all these people." I stand on my tiptoes to try to see if there's a way out of this sea of humanity, but I'm too short to do us much good. Evan and Gabe are taller though, and they scan the crowd for a way out.
"It's some kind of market," Evan chimes in loudly, and a woman with a red blanket wrapped around her shoulders scowls at him as she hurries by.
"Mom's picture was in the desert," I shout and step closer to the two guys so they can hear me better. "I think we need to get away from these people and try to find some open space. There must be some close by."
Gabe leans down and presses his lips close to my ear. I ignore the cool shiver that runs down my neck from his touch. "Any idea how we get there?" he says, speaking right into my ear so I can hear him over the din.
I shake my head no. I've never been in this dream before, and Mom never told me about being in the desert with Dad. I'm as clueless as the next person.
"I see a way out!" Evan bellows, and both Gabe and I look as he points to a tall, adobe archway about fifty yards away, over by a group of brightly colored tents.
I nod — it seems as good a way as any — and Gabe gives a thumbs-up. Together, the three of us start to push our way through the crowd. The sun beats down on our shoulders and makes the air around us shimmer. There's not even a spec of a cloud in the brilliant blue sky overhead. I watch as Gabe shrugs out of his leather jacket and rolls it into a ball. Then he tucks the entire thing into the back of his black belt. I notice that he has another paper-thin T-shirt on underneath, and I do my best not to stare at the outline of his chest muscles showing through. Gabe's not a beefy guy by any means, but I can tell he's extremely cut, and the biceps I see coiled beneath the skin on his upper arms are certainly nothing to laugh at. I swallow and look away.
Together, the three of us wind our way through the marketplace, heading for the archway we hope will lead us out. Evan suddenly stops and covers his mouth with his hands. When Gabe and I catch up to him, I see his eyes are wide with terror. I follow his gaze, and despite the fact that I'm used to all the crazy things that happen in dreams, even I have to admit that this time, it's more than a little freaky.
Evan points a trembling finger at what appears to be a tent selling spices, with jars upon jars of multicolored dust lined up out front. On both sides of the market are rows of similar tents, each one selling some kind of wares. But the spice tent is different. Instead of a sweaty merchant arguing with customers in a language that sounds like a bunch of consonants all strung together, I see two monsters standing in the shadows and staring out at the crowd. Both creatures have the bodies of men and are clothed in long, dust colored robes.
Their faces, however, are far from human.
One looks like some kind of horrific pig, with a long snout and two pointy tusks. The creature's skin is pink and gleaming in the heat. The other monster looks like… Well, it looks like a monster. It has two giant holes where a nose ought to be, pointed cheekbones, and a pair of beady red eyes. There are limp strands of black hair hanging over both of its ginormous ears, though most of its misshapen head seems to be bald. I shiver despite the heat and feel Gabe's body tense beside me.
What's super weird though, is that no one buying spices seems to notice the creatures. They stand there, picking up jars and yelling back and forth with the two monster-men watching them, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
I glance around and I'm horrified to see more of the grotesque creatures skulking here and there, all over the marketplace. Each one has the body of the man and a head from a horror flick. Some peek out from behind booths or tents; some jostle through the crowd. And some just stand silent in darkened doorways, watching people stream by.
No one looks at them. No one screams, or runs away in terror. It's as if they don't exist.
"Do you see them?" I ask nervously and tug on Gabe's hand
He gulps and nods. "Yeah, I see them," he answers and flicks his eyes away when one of the creatures catches him staring. "I think we definitely need to get out of here. Like, as fast as possible."
"I couldn't agree more," I affirm. I shove Evan from behind. The man has been frozen with fear for the past thirty seconds. "Come on, man. Let's go," I te
ll him roughly so he'll get a move on.
"What…what are those things?" Evan asks in an undertone and starts to move away from the stall, his eyes darting back and forth. We all head toward the archway, keeping our hands clasped and doing our best to blend into the crowd.
"I don't know," I whisper back. "But quit staring. We don't want them to notice us."
"Yes. Quite right," Evan agrees nervously, and he ducks his head down as a monster brushes by on our left.
We're almost at the archway when a series of loud bangs ring out. The crowd around us instantly flattens to the ground, and people scatter like cockroaches heading for a dark place to hide. I instinctively duck when I hear the bangs and see Evan and Gabe do the same, their eyes wide.
The street becomes a place of total chaos; screaming people head for cover under the tents or rush into small adobe buildings that line both sides of the market. There are more bangs, which I now identify as gunshots, and beside me a man falls on his face. He lies there, unmoving, and I know he's dead.
