The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  I grabbed Kira. “Can you maneuver the walls?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The ceiling cracked and I braced myself over Sam, waiting for it to collapse. But as the cracks widened, long thorn-covered vines slithered out. One snapped around my calf and I tore at the green flesh, thorns cutting into my palms. Sebastían grazed a leaf with the tip of his finger, sending a spark racing down the vine. It turned to ash, falling free.

  A vine snatched the girl behind me, pulling her towards the ceiling. Leaves snapped around her like a spider suffocating its prey. Someone screamed and when I looked back the shadows were plucking people from the group, swirling around them until they were dizzy and falling.

  Sebastían grazed the wall, casting a fire all the way towards the ceiling. The vines bristled, falling to pieces over our heads. Dying. It was the sound all around us, the chill of the shadows still close behind.

  My feet were damp, the corridor filling with water, Sebastían’s fires falling dim. There was another scream, another Dreamer lost.

  I looked back at Kira. “Now!”

  Her face twisted, fear igniting that dormant thing inside her that could move mountains. And then she did. The ceiling trembled, rocks tumbling down as a wall of stone shot up through the floor.

  A few shadows barely slipped through, lapping at the heels of an old man with a limp. I forced myself to look straight ahead and then I heard him scream. Another wall snapped up, another shadow left behind. Then another. Kira sealed us in, guiding us toward a dead end, Dreamers clawing at the walls.

  “Where?” Someone cried out.

  “We’re trapped in here!”

  “What do we do?” It was Sebastían, his question directed at me.

  “I…”

  The walls quaked, the shadows somehow solid and trying to break their way through. A frozen drop of water dripped down from the ceiling, landing against my shoulder. I looked up but it was pointless, because in this world, in this dream, there was no up or down, no in or out. Anso’s prison was just like my own memories, like the farmhouse and the sunflowers and the ocean. And the only way to escape it was to wake up.

  “Everyone, grab the person next to you!”

  People looked around, frantic.

  “Hold hands,” Sebastían yelled. “Now!” He turned to me. “You can do this.”

  “We,” I breathed. “We can do this.”

  Sam took Sebastían’s hand and I took the other. I hesitated as I reached for the girl with blue hair, still glowing and twitching with the current inside her. She hesitated too, sparks flying between our fingertips before we’d even touched.

  “Concentrate,” I said. “Everyone concentrate on your body, on waking back into it.” I turned to her. “Ready?”

  She trembled, afraid, angry. We all were and it hummed between us like a pulse, the pace quickening the closer I came to closing the circle.

  I took the girl’s hand and there was nothing but light, the same surge I’d felt with Roman and Sebastían intensified until I thought I’d destroyed us all. But as the light braided through each of us, radiating from our skin and pinging from wall to wall, it was the stone that crumbled, the nightmare shattered, and there was nothing hanging over us but sky and green and sun.

  Freedom.

  22

  Roman

  When the doctor found me I was glad he was a stranger and not Bryn’s mother or anyone else who knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. Vogle was the only one who knew that I’d come and he’d be the only one to know that I’d failed.

  I wondered what Vogle had done to try to get Eve back; if he’d exhausted himself like this, if he’d hated himself like this. When I stepped off the elevator and saw his face—resigned but remorseful, hard but full of cracks—I knew. He’d tried everything.

  When we got to Vogle’s hotel room Felix was waiting in the hallway. Leaving the hospital, I couldn’t think of anything better than burying myself in the sleeper sofa, but seeing Felix’s goofy face was suddenly a nice alternative.

  “Heard you were in town,” he said. “You guys up for Chinese?”

  That was it. No questions about Bryn’s progress or the reason for my impromptu visit. A few minutes later we were down town at Don Chung Hong, trading Felix’s coupons for three weekly specials.

  “So, Roman, I heard you’ve been slinging spaghetti and meatballs back in Albuquerque,” Felix said. “Strange career choice seeing as you almost burned my apartment down that time you tried to make macaroni and cheese.”

  I choked on a mushroom, the laugh stuck at the back of my throat. I pointed my fork at him. “And who was reading me the directions?”

  Felix chucked his napkin at me. “Yeah, yeah. So reading’s not my strong suit.”

  After we finished eating, Felix convinced one of the waitresses to bring us out a round of dessert, some kind of sweet dumpling that looked like Easter eggs. Afterwards, they watched him from behind the counter, laughing into each other’s hair every time he looked in their direction. He gave them a wink before turning back to his food.

  “Guess this means Dani still isn’t returning your phone calls?” I said.

  “Oh, she picked up. Once.” He stared into his bowl. “She said we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

  “Oh, dude…I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged, sat back. “Her loss, right?” The laugh was forced, almost breaking in two. He quickly changed the subject. “I’ve been really busy at the shop anyway. We’re rebuilding an engine for a Plymouth Road Runner.”

  Vogle stiffened next to me and I caught him watching the television in the corner of the restaurant. The sound was off but the caption said something about a child falling into a coma in Michigan, another in Mexico City, both as spontaneous and unexplainable as all the others.

  One child’s parents stood in front of a field of reporters, crying, clutching each other. There were shots of the hospital, people outside leaving candles and flowers. The ticker at the bottom of the screen said something about toys from overseas being recalled and the Mexican government opening an investigation into one of their power plants. People weren’t just speculating out of curiosity now but out of fear. I wondered how long it would be before some kind of hysteria broke out.

  “You could check it out tomorrow if you’re not heading back yet,” Felix said. “My dad’s been asking about you. Ever since you recommended that parts dealer out of Arizona he thinks you’re like some kind of mechanic prodigy.”

  Six more photographs popped up on the screen, the children’s names, ages and locations listed beneath each one. Four girls and two boys. They’d all fallen asleep one night and never woke up.

  “It’s spreading,” Felix said, finally noticing my gaze glued to the television. “Started in Central America. I saw a story online about another kid in some city in South Africa. Now it’s migrating north, I guess.”

  I almost mentioned the story I’d seen about the girl who’d looked like Sam, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it, to admit that they could all be connected.

  “Has anyone tracked down Michael yet?” I asked Vogle.

  He shook his head. “I haven’t heard from Andre in a few weeks. Domingo and Stassi seem to have fallen off the map.”

  “Let’s hope not,” Felix said. “We might be needing them soon.”

  “You think this is something,” I said, glancing at the TV again.

  “You don’t?” His forehead wrinkled. “Or you’re just afraid to say…”

  I took a deep breath, sinking into the booth. “Both.”

  Felix pushed the dumplings around in his bowl. “Look, I know it’s a stretch, but those coma outbreaks aren’t the only weird things happening these days. And every good conspiracy theorist knows that when weird shit starts happening all it once, it’s usually connected.”

  “What other weird shit?” I asked.

  Felix lowered his voice. “People going missing. Kids.”

  “Kidnappings happen all the
time,” I said.

  Felix typed something into his cellphone before handing it over. “Take a look at this.” A news story about a girl who’d gone missing from New York City was pulled up on the screen. “Scroll down. Those are screen shots from the security cameras around her apartment building.”

  Vogle and I examined the photos, most of them blurry.

  “What are we looking for?” I asked.

  “The girl with the backpack.”

  I spotted a bag hanging over the shoulder of a girl who looked barely big enough to carry it.

  “So…she looks like she’s headed home from school.”

  “Look closer.”

  I examined the people around her as they appeared and disappeared between each frame. Except for one.

  “Big burly fellow,” Vogle said. “Is this their suspect?”

  Felix nodded.

  “So, what about him?” I asked.

  “I think you mean what about her. Chick looks all…weird and shit. Can’t you see it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look at the exposure. Everything’s normal until you get to her face. It’s warped.”

  Just half the girl’s face was exposed, the skin of her left cheek slightly smudged, almost transparent. The rest of her was bundled up in winter clothes, eliminating the possibility that she’d been taken abruptly.

  “So the still’s a little corrupt,” I said. “What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is she looks like a ghost.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Feels thin.”

  “Fine.” Felix snatched his phone back. “You don’t see the connection.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I want to believe you and part of me does. I just…”

  “You’re afraid,” he finished. “You’re afraid this shit’s bigger than just you and Bryn and the Rogues and you want proof.”

  “Before we go into full on panic mode, yeah. Just…keep looking into it.”

  He nodded.

  We all turned our attention back to the news until it segued into some late night talk show.

  “So how long are you staying?” Felix finally asked.

  “I’m not.” I exhaled. “My dad doesn’t know I’m here. I should get back.”

  “And then what?”

  It had taken a few hours but Felix finally got around to the question I’d been dreading and the one that none of us could answer. He saw it on my face, the fear I was trying to hide, the exhaustion, but he wouldn’t look away. He furrowed his brow, confused by the silence.

  The helplessness I’d felt in Bryn’s hospital room came rushing back. “And then nothing, Felix. She either wakes up or she doesn’t.” I yanked my jacket on, trying to smother the eruption inside me. I couldn’t sit there for one more second, trading lies like small talk, discussing coma epidemics and the possibility that Bryn could still be in danger. It was bullshit and it was terrifying. I headed for the door. “I’m leaving tonight.”

  23

  Bryn

  I’d braced for the bite of winter, somewhere just as cold and desolate as the prison we’d been freezing in. Instead, there was only heat. We stepped beneath a steam curtain, plants glinting in the memory of a recent rain. But there was something finite about it, something strange.

  “Where are we?” Sam asked, the other Dreamers huddled and whispering the same question.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, marveling at the colors, at the smells that were so intense I could taste them.

  Every sound jerked me from one corner of the canopy to the other, the sky dark and moving as if it was made of water. It was like looking straight into the ocean, the current swiftly changing. I weaved through the crowd to find Sebastían but he was already stopped, looking up.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure but it feels like it’s watching us.”

  The farther I looked into the trees, the more shadows swept across the forest floor.

  “And getting closer,” he added.

  “Ouch.” The girl next to Sam leapt away from a spotted plant, the leaves thick and furry like the wings of a butterfly.

  I knelt. “What happened?”

  “Chloe cut herself,” Sam said.

  Chloe’s lip trembled. “The flower bit me.”

  “Let me see.”

  A tremor rippled through the soil, my knees trembling. Every Dreamer turned towards the slow creak of the shifting landscape. The plants were moving. Sam clutched me from one side while Chloe hung on the other. There was nowhere to go, the branches encircling us and locking in place, leaves arrowed.

  “Where are we?”

  “What’s happening?”

  Bodies knocked into mine, everyone frantic as I tried to make sense of what was happening. We’d destroyed the cells, the prison walls and all of the horrible things that lived inside them. The nightmare was supposed to be over. We were supposed to be safe. Free. Awake.

  Unless…

  I turned to Sebastían. “Are you…?”

  He was stoic, silently searching for a way out.

  “No…” It was Kira who spoke, answering my question though she didn’t realize it.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  The flower that had pricked Chloe’s finger nipped at Kira. She scrambled back, staring as it tried to catch a strand of her hair. “No.” The word was more indignant this time, Kira’s entire body on the verge of collapse and eruption all at the same time.

  I shook her. “What is it? What’s going on?”

  “It’s mine,” she finally said.

  “Your what?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Nightmare.”

  The trees bowed, roots ripping out of the ground and clawing towards us, branches tumbling and shattering like bombs. We were stuck, staring straight into this fear that was so familiar and yet not. Because it was somehow worse. Because it was real.

  Beyond the encroaching trees I could see that the rest of the forest was as still as a portrait and I broke into a run, dragging Sam and Chloe behind me as everyone else followed. Except Kira.

  Looking back over the rush of bodies, I caught glimpses of Sebastían trying to pull her to her feet. I tripped, my own body fighting against the current. I knew I had to go back for them.

  “Sam, take Chloe and follow the others.” She hesitated but I pushed them forward. “Go!”

  I raced back, the forest closing in, leaves and branches tangling into webs that I had to tear my way through.

  I fell next to Kira. “We have to go!”

  “…won’t take me,” she muttered. “I won’t let it.”

  Sebastían pulled on her. “Then run!”

  Kira closed her eyes and I could hear the moaning deep in the earth; I could hear her wrestling with it, with herself. She let go, panting, but the forest was still collapsing, the grass hardening to sharp blades beneath our feet, the air thick and too hard to swallow.

  Sebastían splayed my palm flat against Kira’s shoulder. The jolt electrified us both and I tightened my grip, unleashing whatever I could. Kira trembled, the force of my touch giving her strength. The earth opened up as the trees knotted themselves, clawing underground like insects. When the forest stopped moving there was nothing left but sand, sky and us.

  I let go of Kira, her stare too intense.

  “Bryn’s something of a wild card,” Sebastían said, the shock as fresh as the first time.

  I could feel it on my face too. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “I felt you,” Kira said, “inside me, making me stronger.”

  “Like gasoline,” Sebastían said.

  My cheeks flushed and I got to my feet, wary of what the others had seen. I didn’t have to look far, all of the Dreamers standing shaken and exposed. Kira hadn’t just stopped the forest from devouring us, she’d made it disappear altogether.

  And when I reached back to take her hand so had she.

  Sebastían and I stood in the center of
a desert, sun beating down.

  “Where did she go?” he said.

  We both spun but there was nothing, not even an abandoned footprint in the sand.

  “I don’t know,” I said, trying to sense my own fragility.

  “Do you think she…?”

  “Woke up?” I shook my head. “But how?”

  “Then what if she’s back there?” he said.

  The thought almost forced me to the ground again. Kira was the first person to comfort me after waking up without my body. She was the first person to make me feel safe.

  I looked back at the others, all probably wondering who was going to disappear next. Or if I’d done it. If I’d touched Kira and sent her someplace awful. Or maybe I’d sent her home. Either way, the riot inside me was becoming more potent, my touch not just capable of igniting Roman anymore. And if I brushed someone else, touched them by mistake, what if they disappeared too? What if we all did?

  “It’s not your fault.” Sebastían spoke under his breath, reading my thoughts. Even as he said it we both knew it might not be true.

  A fierce wind ignited from nowhere, pushing us back toward the group. I couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

  “Kira?” Joseph could barely force out her name.

  “Where is she?” Christine asked. “Where did she go?”

  I was afraid to answer, to speak my worst fears out loud.

  “We don’t know,” Sebastían said.

  “But…she was here and…” Christine clutched me. “What’s going to happen to the rest of us? This doesn’t make sense.”

  “We’re dreaming,” Joseph cut in. “And when are dreams ever logical?”

  Voices rose up, people anxious and arguing, afraid of disappearing too. I felt the fragility of every step but we couldn’t stop moving, not if we wanted to survive this.

  Christine gripped my arm, tears in her eyes.

  “Kira’s gone,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  24

  Roman

  When Vogle got back to the hotel I was sitting on the window seat, the glass pushed back.