Watermark (The Emerald Series Book 3)

by James, Kimberly

  “You’re crazy.” I shook my head.

  We spent the next half-hour doing what I needed to do—sit with a friend, enjoying the cool air and low humidity, the flutter of butterflies. One lit on Michael’s knee, its wings blinking orange and black before it flitted away over the sun-dotted water. The sun had dipped in the sky, dying the wisps of clouds pink and orange. It felt as though we were sitting in some whimsical secret place.

  “When will you come back to school?” I asked.

  “As soon as my mom releases me.” His phone vibrated from inside his pocket. “That’s probably her now.” His movements were stiff and awkward, so I slid his phone out of his pocket and placed it in his palm.

  “Will she be mad at you for leaving?”

  “She can’t be too mad otherwise she would have called instead of texting.”

  I watched as he typed a reply. “What did she say?”

  “She’s luring me home with promises of spaghetti.”

  Something plopped into the water with a “kerplunk” and apprehension nipped at my neck. Ripples moved over the surface of the lake, but I couldn’t see what might have caused them.

  I stood up and held out my hand, forcing myself not to snatch his hand and drag him up the boardwalk. It had been reckless to agree to meet him here. “Come on, Rocky. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Michael wasn’t at school on Monday, though I could hardly blame him. I’d contemplated staying home myself but decided that would only fuel the rumors that were already circulating like the eye of a hurricane. Once again, I was the center of the windmill of gossip. Theories abounded—Noah walked in on me and Michael making out, and he beat him to a pulp. Michael’s hand was beyond repair. He would never play ball again. The vision in Michael’s right eye had been impaired, threatening his career.

  All of it lies, none of it as bad as the truth. Resurrection from the dead was clearly beyond anyone's imagining. I wondered how long it would take for the truth to get out.

  My appearance through the door into English class caused a tangible stir on the air. It felt a lot like loathing, and it was coming off Derrick Nash like an odorous smell. I tried to make myself as small as possible, avoiding Derrick’s accusatory glare. I had no doubt at that moment he was the one that had sent me the picture of Michael. I didn’t understand why he gave such a big pile of steaming shit. As far as I knew, he and Michael were barely friends.

  I should have stayed at home. Why had I thought I could put the weekend behind me and sit in school and act like any of it mattered? This end of the world feeling gnawed at me. Jamie had stormed back into existence only to disappear again without a trace.

  And once again, he'd changed everything.

  Ally took one look at me and her eyes rounded with concern, her hand reaching across the aisle to touch my arm after I slid into my chair. “Erin, are—"

  I held up my hand to ward off her question and any comforting gestures. “I’m fine.” The truth for the most part.

  I laid my head on my book bag as the energy drained out of me. I couldn’t concentrate on school work. Already Mrs. Hunt's voice droned in the room. Blah, blah, blah, blah. What was she even saying? Why the hell did I even care?

  When I first heard it, I thought I must have fallen asleep the sound so matched my dreams lately. My eyes drifted open, and my head floated from the pillow of my arms like a balloon released into the sky. Ally shifted in her seat, and a deja-vu dread built in my stomach.

  A fire drill. That shrill, high-pitched wailing was just a fire drill.

  The hair on my arms stood on end and I squeezed the bag under my hands to keep from shivering. Everyone else heard it too, and a common expression of puzzlement spread around the room. The sound was coming from outside.

  Ally was the first to the window, and one by one everyone migrated along with her until I was the only one left in my desk. I was stuck in my seat, shackled by a knowing dread. I couldn’t look. I knew what was out there. Or more specifically, who was out there.

  “Holy shit,” someone said.

  “Oh my God.” This a gasp from the other side of the room. Cell phones were out. Cameras were rolling. What was out there promised to be a good show.

  “Eeeerawwwn.”

  The sound went on forever. Did anyone else hear my name in that wailing?

  Ally glanced at me, the perplexity in her eyes drawing me across the room. I hadn't been sure she’d believed me when I’d relayed what had happened last night on the phone. She believed me now.

  Sirens screeched in the distance, growing closer with each passing second.

  “Eeerrghnn.”

  Jamie stood in the rectangle of freshly mowed grass at the front of the school, striding back and forth as though an invisible force field prevented him from coming closer to the building. I’d only seen him clearly once for those few seconds he stood before me bathed in sunlight, offering me the chance to reject him. And now here he was showing himself to all the world. He was still a shocking sight. Two days was not enough time for my mind to come to terms with what he'd become. And maybe it was being surrounded by so many witnesses that enabled me to see him with more objective eyes.

  His skin, tinged a grayish blue, reflected the sunlight, outlining the spidery veins running in a symmetrical pattern over his chest and arms. The pattern continued over his cheekbones and the ridge of his brow. His eyes were more slanted than they used to be, the shape of his face more elongated. His hair was a wild mass of dark tangles and gleamed a violet-blue under the sun.

  Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe Noah had been wrong. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Jamie.

  Mr. Russell, the principal, was standing with several of the coaches under the overhang, guarding the entrance to the school as if they could stop this thing from coming inside.

  Mrs. Greyson’s voice cracked over the intercom. “Faculty and students be advised to stay in your classrooms. Keep the doors locked until the situation is under control.”

  Is that what this was? A situation?

  I looked at this thing that was Jamie, knowing a locked door wouldn’t keep him out. Neither would these windows, not if it wanted to get inside.

  Mrs. Hunt scrambled for the door, but we all stayed glued to the windows, watching as a half-dozen emergency vehicles converged on the school, screeching into the parking lot in the front of the building and on every side, creating a perimeter. Police cars, fire trucks, an ambulance—all with sirens blaring and lights flashing for this one thing.

  Jamie covered his ears with hands that weren’t hands anymore. Those fin-like hands had touched me.

  “Eeergghnn.” Jamie’s voice cut through the sirens straight to my heart, ripping a hole the size of a fist. This must be what bleeding out felt like—this slow draining of energy, the way my vision darkened around the edges, eyes straining to focus.

  More law enforcement than I’d ever seen at one time hid behind their car doors, weapons drawn. War ready. I was dying inside. Any second my legs were going to buckle.

  Relief coursed through me when my dad’s car pulled up in front of this thing that was Jamie. I knew I had to quit calling him a thing. I’ve touched this thing. I’ve kissed this thing. I’ve loved this thing forever.

  My dad jumped from his car, jamming a rifle against his shoulder. His mouth moved in a command I couldn’t hear. Did Jamie even understand? Please understand, because I certainly didn’t. Why would Jamie come here? Why risk himself? What was my dad’s plan? I imagined the itchy fingers of the officer's present. All it would take was one shot and a firestorm would start.

  My shallow breath created tiny patches of fog on the glass. Palpable tension radiated around the room and I spared a glance at Ally. Her face was a mask of fear and disbelief, as was everyone else’s. I feared Jamie in that moment too. It wasn’t a cowering fear but a respectful fear. I didn’t think I saw what everyone did. While they saw a monster, I saw a god.

  I saw Jamie with an arsenal of weapons aimed at
him.

  “They won’t shot him, will they?” Ally’s voice faded into the background, drowned out by the blood thrumming in my head. “What’s he doing?”

  “Getting caught.” The words fell from my lips with certainty. He was showing himself on purpose. Why? Why would he show himself like this?

  Him. That thing. Jamie.

  The monster-beast-god-Jamie turned, and his eyes found mine in what had to have been a sea of eyes peering at him from every window. Was the whole school watching?

  “Erin.” My name ripped through his mouth and the force of it rattled the windows. My fingers curled on the glass. My head moved in denial, too heavy for my neck. My eyes briefly connected with my dad’s, though he was too far away for me to get any indication of what the hell I was supposed to do. What was the appropriate response to this? Was there one?

  I stood plastered to the window and watched as Jamie started running toward this very window. A collective intake of breath sucked the air dry and then no one breathed at all, certainly not me.

  A memory flashed in my mind of the day Jamie had stalked out the water and kissed me even though we’d barely spoken before. He had the same look in his eyes—determined and possessive. Like nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted. Not witnesses. Not guns. Not my dad.

  Shock rendered me immobile. Fear kicked my heart rate into overdrive. Every gun was trained on Jamie’s back, and I knew if he didn’t stop they would shoot him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my dad raise his fist.

  “Stop.” My dad’s command came like the firing of a canon. Jamie slowed in response and a moment of confusion passed over his slanted eyes and his mouth fell open. Then his eyes locked with mine again and he barreled toward me seemingly unstoppable.

  “Stop, Jamie,” I whispered into the glass.

  My dad fired. I jerked, feeling the jolt to my back, my spine stinging as if he’d fired on me. I waited for Jamie to fall, but he kept coming without the slightest hitch in his powerful stride. His eyes trained on mine through the dirty glass, so intent, as if some terrible thing chased him, and this was his one chance to get away. His one chance at freedom. I wanted to scream. Instead, my mouth hung open. My dad fired three more times before Jamie stumbled. He fell to his knees. An anguished cry escaped my lips. My vision dimmed around the edges, and for a moment it was like looking through an unfocused pair of binoculars. I blinked once, and Jamie fell completely still, face down in the grass. A choked sound wrangled its way from my throat. Ally gripped my hand, crushing my fingers.

  My dad and a handful of other law enforcement officers converged on Jamie, weapons held at the ready, keeping a wary distance. They were afraid of him. Even laid out prostrate on the ground, seemingly dead, they were afraid.

  Jamie lay motionless. The monster was down. The monster was dead.

  I started screaming and ran for the door.

  14

  Before I could reach the door, a pair of arms caught me from behind and clamped around my waist, dragging me back into the center of the room.

  “You can’t go out there.” Derrick flung me away, putting himself between me and the door.

  “What do you care? You’re nothing but a bully, leaving dead fish in my locker for weeks. You sick bastard.” I shoved him in the chest, for all the good it did.

  Had it been a joke? Some sort of sick premonition?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you can’t go out there,” he said through clenched teeth. I didn’t know where all this sudden concern was coming from.

  “Yeah, you do.” I lunged at him, needing a target for all the emotions spiraling in my head.

  This time it was Ally who grabbed me. “Erin.” Her voice gentled over me.

  I turned and tears burned the backs of my eyes. “What just happened?”

  Please tell me it wasn’t real. He wasn’t dead. Not again.

  A flurry of commotion at the windows brought my head around. I ran over, wondering if I could simply burst through the glass.

  I should have been out there with him. My forehead pressed to the glass, sticky with sweat. My eyes remained glued to the scene. No one would touch him, not even my dad. Not even the men who'd shown up in hazmat suits, covering Jamie from head to toe as though he were contagious. As though he were an alien. It took six of them to pick his limp body off the ground and load him into the nondescript white van.

  I had no idea if Jamie were even alive. Could he have survived that many bullets? My dad closed the door, shutting Jamie inside the van then slapped his hand against the back window, and I watched as it pulled away. I watched until the red taillights disappeared, feeling my skin stretching tighter and tighter the farther away the van drove.

  Mrs. Hunt cleared her throat. “All right everybody, show’s over. Back to your seats.” The command in her words didn’t match the shakiness that plagued her voice. No one complied. As for me, I didn’t think my legs would move. I might have been in shock. Should I feel this calm? Should I feel this nothing?

  My dad walked in the front door of the school flanked by two plainclothes officers. Now what? Was he going to check me out? Surely he knew I couldn’t stay here. My eyes darted to the speaker over my head. Mrs. Greyson’s voice came back on. She sounded out of breath. Good news was the situation was under control and with the bell our regular schedule would resume.

  This announcement was met with a few expletives and a degree of moaning. A few people were texting. Derrick looked up and turned his phone toward me so I could see the picture displayed on the screen. A picture taken at the perfect moment when Jamie had seen me in the window. I could see the recognition reflected in his eyes even on the small screen. Why would he come here and expose himself in front of so many people? Why put himself in danger?

  Mrs. Hunt tried again to herd us all back to our seats. Ally took my hand, presumably to lead me back to my desk, as a knock sounded on the door. It was still locked. I saw my dad's face through the window.

  Yes. Get me out of here.

  After Mrs. Hunt opened the door, they exchanged a few words in hushed tones, my dad casting furtive glances my way as though he thought I were some ticking time bomb that was going to explode any second. I wanted to reassure him that wasn’t the case, but really I couldn’t. I felt the slow ticking countdown with each beat of my heart as the scene played itself out in my head over and over. Jamie running. Jamie falling. Jamie. Not. Moving.

  “Erin,” Mrs. Hunt said. “You can go.”

  I didn’t move. I stood there staring at my book bag on my desk. My dad had to pick it up for me. His hand was firm at my back as he guided me to the door. One of the officers was waiting in the hall, and he closed ranks on the other side of me as though some unseen danger lurked in the halls. The only danger was my slipping sanity. My hold on my mental state wasn't bolstered when I saw Caris being escorted down the hall by the other officer I’d watched walk in the school with my dad.

  She looked at my dad expectantly as they neared.

  "It's a precaution until we get this worked out," he said to her.

  A precaution? From what? I didn't even know if Jamie were alive.

  I whirled around to confront my dad. “What have you done?”

  “Tranquilizers, Erin. I shot him with tranquilizers.” He put his hands on my shoulders, his grip light, eyes slicing through the desperation that held me.

  “What?” I stammered as a tear leaked out of one eye and rolled heedlessly down my cheek.

  “Tranquilizers, baby. They’re taking him to the Facility. The car is right outside. If that’s what you want, I can take you. Or if you’d rather go home and wait there. They’ll have to check him over first and it might take him a while to wake up.”

  “He will wake up, won’t he? He’s not…” Dead. I couldn’t bring myself to say the word.

  “Yes. He’ll wake up, and knowing Jamie, he’ll be pissed as hell when he does,” he said in an attempt to lighten the seriousness of the situation
, an attempt that failed in every way.

  And it was serious. Even in my current stupor I recognized that. People had seen him. People had pictures and probably video.

  “Take me to see him," I said, my voice unsure, still not fully comprehending what had happened over the last half-hour. My dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and his solidness felt so reassuring I leaned into him. Laughter bubbled up from my throat. I couldn’t think for the life of me what was so funny, but still the laughter came. My body was determined to show some emotion, even an inappropriate one.

  We filed out of the school, drawing glances and outright stares from what was left of law enforcement. I let Caris climb in the car first. I turned around to face my dad before crawling inside.

  “He'll be okay, won't he?” I stared, desperate for confirmation, but also desperate for the truth. He must have sensed my need for it. His eyes softened and I knew he wanted to protect me from his own words.

  “I don’t know, baby.”

  15

  He was suffocating. His throat strained, his lungs gasping for what little air it could. Not enough. There wasn't enough.

  He had to get out of here.

  He tried to roll off the hard surface but his arms and legs wouldn't move. Something bound his wrists and ankles. He was trapped to the cold, hard metal. He roared, his whole body jerking and straining against his bindings.

  Voices droned around him, but any words were lost in the fog of his mind. The images floating in and out of his vision were those of monsters. Faces covered in masks. Hands covered in gloves. They didn't want to touch him.

  They weren't the monsters. He was.

  More talking. A needle drifting toward him.

  No. No more.

  He needed to think. Drugs wouldn't help. He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to see Erin.

  His body was in full rebellion, threatening to hijack the will of his mind. He bowed off the table. He had to calm down. This would have all been for nothing if he couldn't control himself. If he couldn't control the monster.