by M. Kircher
And, after another moment or two, we've pried open a hole wide enough for even Gabe's broad shoulders to squeeze through, if he were here with us. I try not to let myself panic at the thought that he might not be in the dream below. I can't lose him, not now.
I scramble for the opening, but Evan grabs my hand.
"What are you doing?" I snap at him and try to tug my hand away. "Come on. We don't have much time."
"Let me go first," he protests, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him swallow back his fear. Huh, I think, I guess Evan's not a total coward after all. He steps in front me and edges me back away from the opening we've just made.
"If I make it down okay," he tells me, "I'll call up for you to follow. But don't jump unless I say. The last thing we need is for you to get yourself killed. You're the only dreamwalker who still has her marbles, and we can't risk losing you too."
"Evan, it's not real. I can't actually—" I start to protest, but Evan's already jumped down through the hole. Men, I huff inwardly, always needing to prove they wear size Large underwear. Some things never change.
I rush over to the edge of the hole and peer down into it. I can see everything inside of the globe so much clearer now. It's amazing.
"That's odd," I mutter. "It looks like the inside of a church."
"Evan!" I call down into the room, cupping my hands around my mouth. "Can you hear me?" There is no immediate answer, but I can just make out a mound of crumpled plaid on the floor of the room. The mound starts to move, and then it groans, and then it slowly pushes itself into the shape of a man. I see Evan reach out a hand and pat around on the floor beside him. I'm almost bursting with impatience. He's finally able to locate his glasses, and I watch him smash them onto his face. He stands up and brushes off his pants.
Evan tilts his head up to me and waves both hands. "It's okay," he shouts. "Just try to roll a bit when you hit the ground."
Wonderful. Now I'm going to know what it feels like to break both legs at the same time.
"Well, here goes nothing," I mutter to myself and nod to Evan so he'll know I've heard his warning. He sees my gesture and scoots out of the way, so I don't fall on top of him when I jump. I take a deep breath and swing my sneakers over the edge of the hole. A couple of crystal pieces break off from the side and tinkle down onto the floor below. No thinking, Em. Just do it. I squeeze my eyes shut, take another deep breath, and then I launch myself out into the air, falling not out of a dream, for once, but into it.
My knees are the first things to hit the floor, and my vision explodes in a burst of white light. I crumple to the ground in agony, but as I do, my head knocks against something hard. Another burst of pain leaves me completely blind and breathless.
For a moment I'm afraid to move or even open my eyes. Everything hurts.
"Here, grab my hand." Evan's voice sounds out from somewhere from above me, and I force myself to roll over.
"Owww…" I moan and open my eyes. The first thing I see is not Evan's worried face, like I'd been expecting, but instead, I find myself staring a long swath of smooth, polished wood. I reach my hand out and touch it. "A pew," I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. "We are inside of a church."
I roll out from under the pew, groaning as I go, and there is Evan peering down at me. He grabs both of my hands and hauls me to my feet.
But before we can utter a single word to each other, there's a thundering crash directly above our heads. Evan and I manage to leap out of the way just as a huge chunk of the high white church ceiling collapses and smashes down into the room below.
The dream is changing, and we don't have any time to lose. "We have to find Mom and Gabe," I yell at Evan and cough the ceiling dust out of my lungs. Whew, what a close call. "Before it's too late."
"Any idea where to start?" Evan asks and wipes the dust off his glasses.
I shake my head. "None." I wince as another part of the ceiling comes crashing down. "Check for doors," I yell over the din, and Evan and I begin to open every door we can find. All around us, things are beginning to disintegrate. This particular room of the church has high ceilings, with rows and rows of gleaming wooden pews arranged on the floor like soldiers ready to march into battle. I thread through them, checking the numerous doors hidden in the shadows and tiny alcoves. In the front of the room are three arched windows, all made of gleaming bits of colored glass. There are human figures pictured in the glass and things like trees and blue squiggly lines that must represent water, but I have no idea what any of it means. There's a long stage underneath the windows, with a tall box standing in the middle.
"A pulpit," I murmur, perplexed. I'm shocked I even know the word. Mom and I never went to church.
"Huh?" Evan asks, leaping out of way of a bit of falling wall.
"It's called a pulpit," I answer impatiently, and point to the box. "But how do I know that? The last time I was even in a church building was when…"
And then it all slides into place.
I dash toward the opposite end of the room, calling out to Evan, "Follow me — I think I know where they are!" There's a small door nestled in the farthest corner of the room, hidden under the shadow of a huge metal cross.
"I'm coming," yells Evan, and I hear his footsteps pounding behind me.
I race between the pews, certain now I know where to go. "My dad's funeral," I shout over my shoulder. "The last time I was in church — it was at his funeral." I come to a breathless halt in front of the door, and Evan crashes into me from behind.
"Sorry, sorry," he mutters and rights himself.
"She hid out in here the whole time," I explain and find the doorknob. "It's where I found her when it was all over, just sitting by the window and holding his jacket." My fingers strain against the heavy wrought iron bars that cover the door to the tiny hidden room. Why did we ever pick such an old church? The thing was archaic.
"Mom! Gabe!" I call out excitedly, as the door finally inches open. "Mom, we're here—"
But the words die on my lips, and I start to scream.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I shrink back from the doorway and stare in horror. Another shrill scream escapes me, and I cover my mouth with my hands. My eyes bounce away from the sight before me; it's just too horrible to look at.
"Emily, what is it?" Evan starts to ask, but as soon as he peeks inside the room, he gasps and jumps back as well. "Oh no," he breathes.
And then something completely unexpected, and completely wonderful, happens. Two strong arms wrap around me from behind, and the mingled smell of cologne and worn leather invades my nostrils.
"Did you miss me?" a deep voice rumbles in my ear, and I whirl around.
"Gabe!" I screech and throw my arms around his neck. "You're all right." I'm so relieved to see him that I don't even care what he thinks. "I thought you might have… I thought we might have…" I gulp, and two tears run down my cheeks.
"Nah." Gabe chuckles as he grins down at me. "I'm not so easy to get rid of. When the dream shifted, I ended up in here. I'm glad to see you guys though. Was worried for like a second or two." He holds up his thumb and forefinger to illustrate how short of a time period. "But just for a second." He brushes a stray wisp of jet-black hair out of my eyes, and my heart does a giant flip-flop inside my chest. But then his expression turns serious. "Are you guys all right?"
"We're okay," Evan says, relief written all over his face at finding Gabe. He leans over and slaps Gabe on the back. "Glad to see you, young man."
Gabe steps away from me and pokes his head through the doorway in front of us. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and then eases back out.
"What are we going to do about that?" I wail and jump when another piece of the ceiling comes bursting down and smashes onto the concrete floor of the church. "How are we going to get her out of there?"
Gabe shakes his head. "I've been watching her for you," he tells me sadly. "But each time I tried to go in, she'd start to freak out. I didn't want to risk i
t."
I nod and try to steady myself. "Thanks," I tell Gabe, trying to acknowledge what a good friend he's being to me. I force myself back to the doorway. I don't want to have to face the horror inside, but there's no other way. You're a dreamwalker, I remind myself. You can do this.
Miraculously, Mom is sitting in the exact same spot she'd been in on the day of Dad's funeral. She's hunched over on the window seat, sunlight streaming across her angelic hair, with one of his old jackets crumpled in her arms. Her blood-covered clothes are gone, as well as the giant red wings.
I swallow nervously because, instead of the warm, cream-colored walls I remember, the walls of this room are covered with thousands and thousands of hissing black snakes. They writhe, half-buried in the four cement barriers that hedge in the tiny room, with their tiny red mouths open wide, just waiting to sink their fangs into anything foolish enough to get too close.
"How can she stand it?" I whisper.
"I don't think she notices them, Em," he whispers back sorrowfully. There's another loud crash behind us.
Evan clears his throat. "You need to try to reach her, Emily, before the dream fully shifts. By the look of things, you don't have long."
I shudder at the thought of walking through this room, past the sea of angry, hissing snakes. But it's Mom, I remind myself. I'll do anything for her.
I take a deep breath and will the toe of my sneaker to step over the threshold.
"Em, I'm coming too," Gabe interjects and grabs my hand. "There's no way I'm letting you walk in there alone. And I'm not about to lose you again."
I snatch my hand out of his, instantly ticked off. "Don't be a Neanderthal. I've taken care of myself for a long time, and I don't need some guy to protect me now." I don't know why I'm having this reaction to Gabe, when only moments ago I'd been overjoyed to see him.
I expect him to be annoyed or maybe even hurt by my words, but instead he just smirks down at me.
"You're trying to tick me off!" I accuse, narrowing my dark brown eyes.
"Is it working?"
"Yes!"
"Good," Gabe says bracingly as he gives me a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Now you won't be afraid." He steps through the doorway, and immediately the snakes go wild. They hiss and whip their dark shiny heads back and forth, their fangs dripping with the anticipation of human flesh.
I gulp and glance over at Evan, whose face has become a rather unflattering shade of green.
"You coming too?" I ask, and he nods a reluctant yes. I'm surprised yet again. There may just be more to Evan the Editor than meets the eye.
"Ahhhh shoooooot…" I mutter and follow Gabe into the room. A symphony of frenzied hissing fills my ears. I desperately want to cover my face with my hands and block out the thousands of tiny yellow eyes glaring at me from all sides of the room, as if I'm lunch. The snakes' jaws snap open and closed, and they strain to reach their imprisoned bodies out and sink their pointy white fangs into my skin. I want to be anywhere but here.
The only place where the snakes can't reach is a narrow path across the center of the room. The path leads straight to the window seat and straight to Mom. She doesn't even see us though, as we gingerly make our way toward her.
"Watch out!" I cry, just as Gabe leans a little too far to the right and a snake snaps at his jacket. He quickly jerks back out of the way and makes a swift running leap up to the window. Evan and I meet each other's eyes and quickly follow suit.
"Ugh," I grunt, and wrap my arms around my torso when we all gather beside Mom. "I hate snakes."
When I speak, Mom finally seems to notice she's not the only one in this awful place. Her head snaps up, and I'm shocked by her appearance. It's as though she's aged twenty years in a half an hour. Mom's skin is sallow and drawn, and her eyes are bloodshot, with dark tracks of mascara running down her cheeks like black rivers. She has a crazy, haunted expression in her eyes.
"Who are you?" she asks in a tremulous voice and sniffs, wiping the back of her hand across her nose. "And what are you doing here? This funeral's private, I don't want any strangers."
I clench my jaw, and my heart splinters. She still doesn't remember me? Not even here?
Mom's forehead creases, and she strokes Dad's jacket, worrying the worn threads between her fingers.
"You," she quivers, but instead of me, she points to Evan. As she does, the doorway behind us crashes to the floor, and the snakes go crazy. I press in close next to Gabe, letting his solid warmth reassure me. I wrap my fingers around his, just in case.
Behind where the doorway used to be, there's now just gaping darkness, and I realize the rest of the church has completely disintegrated.
"I know you." Mom reaches her hand out to Evan. "How do I know you?"
Evan steps up to Mom, being careful to keep out of the way of the snakes. Their jaws snap and claw angrily at the empty air. I stand, completely deflated, and stare at Evan and Mom. Gabe puts his arm around my shoulders.
"You met me once, out in the real world," Evan tells Mom gently. And much to my surprise, when he reaches to take her hand in his, she lets him. How can Mom remember a man she's met exactly one time, but not her own daughter? Do I mean so little to her?
Mom gazes up at Evan with her smeared face and mournful eyes. "Aldo's left me," she whimpers. "No matter where I've searched, I can't find him." She begins to sob. "What will I do without him?"
Evan kneels down in front of Mom. "You have to let your husband go, Lily," he tells her in a soft, calming voice. "You have a daughter, and she needs you now. See? She's standing right in front of you, and you don't even notice her." Evan points, and Mom squints at me, her bloodshot eyes confused.
"A daughter?" she whispers, and my heart leaps into my throat.
"Yes," Evan replies and winces as a piece of the ceiling comes crashing down right next to him, just barely missing his right shoulder. "Quick, Emily — tell your mom something private, to try to jog her memory. Something only the two of you would know."
"The day at the beach," I sputter. It's the first thing to come into my mind. Mom just stares at me, a vacant expression on her gaunt face. "You can't have forgotten about it. We went to the ocean, because I had never been, and Dad said that every person had to see it at least once in their lifetime. He got a special pass, remember? And on the train ride home, you made us stop for ice cream."
I scan Mom's face for any sign of recognition. Her eyes have little creases at the corners. She's listening, at least, but I can tell my words aren't sinking in. Dad's jacket bunches beneath her twisting fingertips.
"We ordered all the flavors," I prod. "And the three of us sat there for hours, eating every last bite."
I can't be totally sure, but I think I see a flicker of recognition pass through her eyes. I kneel down in front of her. "Please, please remember me and wake up. We need to get out of here. Evan and Gabe need to get back to the real world, and I can't leave you here." My voice breaks, and I grab her hands. "I can't lose you."
Mom shrinks back from my touch and pulls her fingers away. She shakes her head, and her shoulders are trembling. "I don't… I mean…I can't…"
A loud clanging sound fills the air — so loud, in fact, that I lose my balance and topple over from my knees onto the ground. The whole room begins to vibrate, and it whips the snakes into even more of a frenzy. Venom drips from their gnashing teeth and I frantically scramble away from one that dives at my legs.
The clanging morphs into a loud buzzing sound, which doesn't stop. It pulses over and over and over. I cover my ears with my hands, and beside me, I see Gabe do the same. Lilly curls into a ball on the window seat, and Evan manages to jump up and wrap his arms around her. He looks at me over the top of her head and mouths something, but I can't hear him.
"What?" I yell.
"The alarms!" he screams back.
Oh no. My stomach clenches. We've finally run out of time. Gabe and Evan have to get out of here right now, and I'm going to have to leave Mom behind. The
thought rips my heart open.
The alarms continue to buzz at such a loud pitch, I can barely hear myself think, much less figure out what to do. And before I can even begin to formulate some kind of plan, the floor tilts sharply up from underneath me. There's an earsplitting crack, and Gabe and I are separated from Evan and Mom, the cement pitching us toward the far end of the dissolving room. I gaze downward and, to my complete and utter horror, realize Gabe and I are sliding straight toward the open jaws of hundreds and hundreds of writhing, hungry snakes. I scream and try to grab ahold of something with my free hand, but the concrete floor is too slick, and my fingernails scrape uselessly against it.
We race down into the dense sea of vipers, and I think I'm going to pass out from the panic and fear. But just as the tips of my sneakers reach their greedy jaws, the snakes burst apart. Every single one. The cement walls of the room release their hold on the horrible creatures, and the snakes scatter like a million grains of sand.
