Echoes (US Edition)

by Laura Tisdall

  You can trust me, you know. The words appear, unexpected again, and Mallory’s skin flushes strangely warm as she reads them. I know you won’t, Warden adds, and you probably shouldn’t because it’s online and, yes, being careful’s important and trusting people from the internet – especially hackers – is a dumbass thing to do… like something I would do. But I just want to say it anyway, for the record. You can trust me.

  She takes a deep breath and it comes out a little shaky. She rereads the words. Then, of all things, she finds she wants to smile. She’s not really sure why, but she does, it’s there, that feeling… and, with it, she doesn’t quite know what to say to him in response.

  You said you logged in to send me a message, she writes, changing the subject. What was it?

  Something to make you feel better from whatever the thing is that you feel fine about anyway, he replies; today’s guess. I know it’s technically tomorrow already, but I haven’t been to sleep yet, so it doesn’t count.

  Okay. What is it then? she asks.

  A bit out there, he begins, but I’m going with you picked Echo Six for no reason other than you liked the sound of it. Can’t believe I haven’t tried that one before.

  Mallory’s lips pull upwards again. She waits, just a moment longer than she needs to.

  Not even close, she replies.

  Bugger.

  She properly smiles then.

  You’re right, she answers, that did cheer me up.

  Parking Lots

  Six days later, Mallory sits impatiently in the driver’s seat of the Chevy and checks the clock on the dashboard for the ninth time. Jed is late. The school parking lot is already half empty. She’s tried his cell, but he’s not answering. If he doesn’t come soon, she’ll miss the start of her shift. Her finger clicks against the wheel. It’s a Tuesday. Jed knows she has a shift on Tuesdays. She reminded him this morning.

  Damn it.

  She gets out of the car and heads up towards the middle school, slamming the door shut behind her. She goes to the science lab first, where his last class was, but it’s empty. She tries his cell again, then checks with the school nurse, but he’s not there either. She walks back out front, hoping he’ll be waiting by the Chevy, already wondering about hacking into the GPS on his phone… She’s just through the doors when she hears the shout. Her heart skips, irritation flipping to apprehension. It was too distant to make out any words, but Mallory knows it was him. It wasn’t a good sounding shout. She starts forward.

  Round the side of the school? she thinks. The bike park, maybe…

  It sounds again. Her feet speed to a run and she half trips down the front steps, adrenaline surging. She sprints along the school front, the few remaining kids watching as she passes, heading for the bike park. She doesn’t slow when she reaches the gate, hands smacking into it as she shoves it open. She rounds the last corner, and she sees him. Jed is trapped against the back fence, held down by a boy twice his size and struggling uselessly to free his arms. For a second, Mallory’s racing heart seems to stop. Then he tries to kick back, and a couple of other kids standing by and watching laugh as the boy holding him dodges.

  ‘That all you got, squeak?’

  Rage floods through Mallory. She doesn’t think, just runs right at the kid holding Jed, though he’s a foot taller than her too. One of the others shouts, but too slow, and she punches the boy in the back of the head before he can turn. His skull is rock hard and pain ripples out through her hand, but his face smacks into the fence with a sharp thud. He stumbles, letting go of Jed.

  ‘Mal?’ He looks up, eyes wide, but she just pulls him back, her focus elsewhere. Fortunately, the big kid’s friends are still only laughing, just at him now – at him rolling on the floor, holding his head. He rolls onto his back and…

  Shit.

  Mallory goes cold. She recognizes him now; dark hair, pinched face. Just what she needs; Connor Dahn, Bobby’s brother.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  There’s blood on his forehead where he hit the fence. There’s fucking blood on his forehead… Connor Dahn…

  Connor fricking Dahn!

  He starts to get to his feet and she backs away, pushing Jed behind her.

  ‘You hurt my brother again,’ she says, trying to keep her voice even, ‘and I will kill you.’ Then she grabs Jed’s arm and starts walking, forcing herself not to run. His friends whistle after them, still laughing, but she doesn’t look back. ‘They’re just stupid boys,’ she mutters, to herself as much as to Jed. ‘Stupid jerk ass boys.’

  Jed is silent as they walk back to the car. She can hear his breaths, though, quick and ragged. She glances over at him. A bruise is already beginning to show around his right eye and her chest tightens so sharply she has to look away. Her free fist is still smarting, but she clenches it anyway – open, closed, open, closed. Jed’s been at middle school barely a month. Four weeks – four damn weeks – and he’s already getting beat on. She’d thought he was just being quiet in the mornings because he was still settling in. It’s not like their family’s ever been especially confident. She didn’t realize…

  She should have realized.

  She balls her fist even tighter, gasps at the pain. Jeanie would have. She’d have noticed that. But Jed doesn’t have her any more, does he? All he’s got is Mallory and she should have done better.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asks, trying to keep a handle on her raging emotions. Other kids are staring at them. They must have heard the shouting and they can see the marks on Jed’s face. He nods, but as Mallory makes herself fully look back at him, she can already see tears forming in his eyes. ‘Don’t cry,’ she snaps. If he cries now it’ll just make it worse. They reach the Chevy and she yanks open the passenger door, pushing him inside before running round to the driver’s side. She starts the engine and pulls out too fast, the wheels screeching against the tarmac.

  Connor Dahn. Damn it… Fricking damn it!

  ‘That the first time?’ she asks. Jed shakes his head. ‘Shit, Jed.’ She shouldn’t swear in front of him. She tells herself off for it, but, ‘How long?’

  He hesitates, then, ‘Since before summer,’ he says, ‘after that trial football day I went to, they… I thought it might stop after the break.’ His voice trails off.

  Not just four weeks… No…

  ‘Those bruises you said were from tackles?’ Mallory asks. Jed just nods. She feels sick.

  ‘You stay away from him, okay?’ she says. ‘You damn well stay away from him.’

  ‘Okay.’ His voice cracks. His eyes are still glassy, but she can see him pursing his lips, trying not to cry. That’s good. You can’t cry at things like that. But his expression…

  ‘Look, it’ll be okay now,’ she tells him. ‘You get any more trouble, you just let me know right away. Then we can fix it. I’ll fix it, I promise.’ She will. She’ll do whatever the hell she has to. ‘We look after each other, all right, you and me?’ Jed nods again. They’re almost home by the time he speaks.

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmurs. She bites her lip until it hurts.

  ***

  Mallory runs down the street towards the Balinskis’ store. She’s already late. After they’d got home, she’d filled a bag with ice cubes and told Jed to hold it against his face. Roger had hovered, looking upset, but too indecisive to do anything much to help beyond getting a glass of water. She’d called Mrs Balinski to tell her she wouldn’t make it in on time and Heidi’s mom had yelled. Afraid of a caution, Mallory had offered to stay longer and help finish the after hours stock-take. It meant she wouldn’t be back in time to cook dinner with Jed, so she’d got a pizza out the chest freezer in the garage, having to push past boxes of Jeanie’s forgotten crap and an old police patrol uniform half out on the floor to reach it – Roger must have been in there again recently. It’s unhealthy, but circumstances were what they were. She’d left Jed with explicit instructions of what to do, and Roger with explicit instructions to watch him until he leaves fo
r his own shift at the hospital – which he must not damn forget. Then she’d had to go. There are lots of kids in town who want money and not many after school jobs. She needs it. They need it. Jed had promised to keep his cell by him, to call her if he felt sick and to not go to sleep until she’s home. She still feels uneasy leaving him, though. He’d been hit in the head. That’s not good, real not good.

  She reaches the store forty-seven minutes after she should have, hot and breathing hard from running. Mrs Balinski shouts a little more but, after that, things pass fairly normally. Mallory stacks shelves with Heidi, and Jed doesn’t call. The stock-take takes way longer than the time she had missed at the start, but she stays until it’s finished.

  The fall weather is beginning to turn and, by the time she gets out, it’s dark and drizzling. She pulls up her hood and checks her phone. Almost eleven. Late to bed for Jed. She starts walking across the parking lot, frustration blossoming. Her left middle finger taps idly against her thumb. Her sore right hand is tucked gingerly into her pocket. Her muscles feel tied in a whole load of knots and she just wants to be home, to be inside with the door to her room shut and locked, with her laptop and no damn people…

  Something clangs behind her. Mallory starts. She turns and looks, but the lot is empty, the staff door still closed from where she shut it. Probably a cat or a fox. She shakes off the small spike of nerves and walks a little faster…

  Another noise.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she demands, turning again. She sees them now, tall and standing in the shadows over by the dumpsters. They step towards her and she reaches for the pepper spray in her bag. For the briefest moment, The Asker’s worries about missing hackers flash up in her mind, his plea that she be careful…

  ‘I got spray,’ she warns.

  ‘Hey, Park Rat.’ Bobby Dahn steps out into the light from a street lamp. ‘It’s only me.’ Mallory lets out a sharp breath – just jackass Bobby who, in that moment, is better than what her mind had started making up.

  Stupid, she thinks to herself. Nothing else has happened in almost a week, no other disappearances and The Asker is struggling for a connection. Even he had started to admit they were probably unrelated. She shakes her head. She just needs to get home. She takes her hand out of her bag and starts walking again, flat out ignoring Bobby. She has really had enough of the damn Dahn family for one day.

  ‘Come on, Park Rat,’ Bobby calls, jogging to catch up, ‘I thought we were friends.’ Anger flares and Mallory stops. She spins round to face him. A light flashes in her eyes; a camera flash from his phone.

  ‘What the hell do you want, Bobby?’ she snaps. ‘I’m really not in the mood.’

  He reaches her, an irritatingly knowing smile on his face.

  ‘Heard you beat up my brother today,’ he says. ‘Had to go to the ER for stitches on his head.’

  She tenses slightly.

  ‘He was beating on mine,’ she says.

  ‘Hey, all credit to you.’ Bobby lifts his arms in apparent surrender. ‘Little dickweed had it coming. Oh, and don’t worry. He didn’t tell anyone else who did it, though there are rumors. Too embarrassed, he was.’ He pauses, and the smile grows. ‘Still, told him I’d get you back for him, didn’t I.’

  She registers the words just a moment too late. Bobby lunges, grabbing her before she can reach the pepper spray. She cries out, reeling at the touch, but one hand smothers her mouth.

  ‘Easy now, Park Rat,’ he grunts, pushing her down towards the damp tarmac.

  What’s he doing, what’s he doing, what’s he doing?! He’s never touched her before. Only words, only…

  Her back slams against ground, the wetness seeping through her jacket. She jerks upwards, her body flooding with adrenaline, fighting against him, but he kneels down on top of her, pinning her arms with his knees.

  ‘I’m not gonna hurt you,’ he says, ‘just humiliate you, like you did my brother. Family is family, after all.’ With his free hand, he takes his phone out of his pocket again. Mallory tries to shout, but the sound is muffled by his palm, his horrible hot, sweaty skin pressing down against her face… He unzips her jacket with the phone hand. ‘Always did wonder what you were hiding under those big, baggy sweaters of yours. Well, now everyone can know.’ He slips the phone under her top, his hand pressing against her stomach. Horror sears through her and her eyes blank out for a moment. Her whole body feels like it’s screaming, like the skin is screaming… ‘Just a few snaps,’ he says, lifting the sweater higher.

  No, no, no…

  There’s one flash, then another. His hands reach higher. Her head starts to spin, her vision blurring…

  No!

  A fire courses through her. Mallory opens her mouth, but this time she doesn’t try to shout. She bites his hand, bites down as hard as she can. Bobby cries out and the pressure on her eases. She jerks her right leg upwards, kneeing him in the groin. He gasps, rolling off of her and onto his back on the tarmac. His phone clatters to the floor, but Mallory doesn’t stop. She yanks the pepper spray out of her bag and blasts him full in the face. He screams – and that is where she should run, but she doesn’t. She is so damn furious. She jumps on top of him, pressing one knee down at his throat. She looks down at his face – at his ugly, scrunched up face that has laughed at her and looked at her like he shouldn’t have for six damn years – and she just wants to hurt him. She reaches down and grabs his balls, digging her fingers in so hard she hopes it tears something. Bobby’s streaming eyes go wide. He looks like he’s going to throw up.

  ‘Just a joke, Rat,’ he gasps. ‘Just a joke. Wasn’t gonna do anything with – ’ Mallory digs her nails in harder and Bobby actually squeals. ‘I wouldn’t have done it!’

  ‘Shut up,’ she spits. ‘You…’ she begins, struggling to get the words out, ‘you sick little bastard. You touch me again, Rat, and I’ll rip these off. I’ll come into your house at night, with a five inch kitchen knife my momma used to use to cut up steaks, and I’ll fucking rip them off.’ His eyes are round circles. All the bravado is gone. He looks terrified.

  Good.

  ‘You’re crazy,’ he gasps.

  ‘Rip. Them. Off.’

  She digs in harder. He cries out and nods frantically. She lets go and gets to her feet, leaving him moaning on the ground. She can feel herself shaking, her skin crawling and burning and… She zips up her coat. Her back is soaked from the ground, hair and face damp from the drizzling rain. Then she sees his phone lying beside him. She picks it up, wipes off the screen.

  The pictures…

  ‘I’m taking this,’ she hears herself saying, ‘and hiding it somewhere you don’t have a chance in hell of finding, so don’t try. I don’t give a shit what you said this was, I could sure bet what it looks like. So,’ she continues, trying for all the world to keep her voice steady, ‘if anyone so much as says an unkind word to my brother again, this goes to the cops.’ Her stomach squirms at the words, but she holds herself firm. ‘Your dickweed of a brother, someone else, I don’t care – Jed gets hurt, it falls on you, Rat.’

  The staff door bangs open. Mallory spins round, pulse jumping again. There, in the doorway, is Batty Fat Heidi, silhouetted against the fluorescent tube lighting with a Twinkie halfway to her mouth.

  ‘I heard shouting,’ she says. She stares at Mallory, then at Bobby, her wonky eyes settling on his, red and raw from the pepper spray. Her face crinkles up in shock as understanding seems to dawn, as she sees the can still gripped in Mallory’s hand. She doesn’t back away or run, though. She takes a step out the door towards them. Then another. ‘You all right?’ she asks Mallory, barely more than a whisper.

  Mallory nods quickly.

  ‘Just a kid from school,’ she says.

  ‘Yeah, I know that kid,’ Heidi replies, eyes narrowing at Bobby, who’s now whimpering on his knees. ‘He’s the one who started everyone calling me Batty Fat in fourth grade.’ Heidi looks back at Mallory with that intense gaze of hers. ‘You sure you’re okay?
If,’ she hesitates, ‘if he did anything, you know you should… You want me to call somebody? The pol – ’

  ‘No,’ Mallory says, voice snapping into the quiet. She thinks of the last time she spoke to a cop and, despite her threat to Bobby, her face burns. She imagines the car and the flashing lights turning up there, imagines talking to them, imagines them looking at her and remembering, and knowing who she is… and she can’t. She can’t. ‘No,’ she says again. ‘I just want to go home. It’s late,’ she finishes lamely.

  Heidi nods, but she doesn’t seem sure and she doesn’t move. Bobby tries to rise to his feet, face still twisted in pain, and Mallory instinctively backs away, sharp and jerky, like she was stung.

  ‘You stay right there, Bobby Dahn,’ Heidi says, her soft little voice somehow carrying in the still night air. ‘You stay right there till Mallory’s gone, or I’m calling 911 right now and telling them what I see, I don’t care what she says.’ He stops, swaying where he stands.

  ‘It wasn’t – ’

  Heidi yanks a cell out of her pocket.

  ‘Right there,’ she says, staring him down.

  And Mallory thinks, thank you… and she starts to back away, to walk away; slow, then faster. She glances back and Heidi is still watching; watching her, watching Bobby. She keeps watching until she’s safely out the parking lot.

  Don’t cry, Mallory tells herself, over and over. It’s worse if you cry. She bites down hard on her lip. Don’t fucking cry.

  The tears are falling before she turns the corner.

  And It Shatters

  Mallory knows something is wrong the moment she steps in the driveway. The Chevy is still there, which means Roger hasn’t gone to work.

  Not today, she thinks. For a moment, she just stands on the gravel, feeling like she could break, like maybe she would fall apart if someone so much as pushed her. Standing and staring at the car, staring at that stupid blue car and wishing…