The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  “I thought you were leaving,” he said.

  I didn’t answer and he sat next to me, his knuckles blanched around a manila folder.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  He hesitated before handing it to me. “These were the last clean reads we were able to get before Bryn slipped into a coma.”

  “These are stills from Bryn’s brain?” My voice cracked, the rest of me threatening to do the same. I wasn’t just holding a folder of test results. I was holding photographs, still images of Bryn’s dreams. I moved to peel open the folder but Vogle held out a hand.

  “Just…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want you to make any assumptions about what you’re about to see. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Is it bad?”

  He didn’t answer, just stared down at my hands. I opened the folder, the first few pages nothing but static. They varied by shade and shape, progressing into strange lines the more I flipped through. I saw something like feathers, a neck, or maybe a jawline. I’d expected to see the trees around the farmhouse or maybe even the beach but these were more…human. I flipped through a few more, a face creeping out of the mess of lines and dots.

  I stopped.

  The pages fluttered, alive in my lap. The face staring back at me was mine.

  I couldn’t look at Vogle, I couldn’t look away from those eyes. Even in one-dimension, buried under the scratch of ink and other markings, I knew there was something wrong with them.

  “When she was so afraid all the time.” My throat tightened. “When she was lashing out and trying to escape. This whole—”

  “Roman, I told you—”

  “This whole time it was me. It was me she was so afraid of.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  I crumpled the stills in my fist and chucked them out the window, my body almost tumbling after them. I slid to the floor, fingers digging into my scalp.

  “I did this to her.”

  “No.” Vogle was next to me, trying to pull my hands away.

  “I did! I fucking did. I wasn’t there to protect her and when she was being…tortured, when those fucking shadows were using her fears against her, it was me. It was me they used, it was me that put her in a coma.” I looked up at him. “It’s me she’s so afraid of.”

  25

  Bryn

  No one spoke as we forged on, all of us waiting for the landscape to change again, for the next disaster. I waited for exhaustion but without my body there were some parts of the desert that just couldn’t reach me. We walked for a long time, none of us stopping, none of us thirsty. But there was still this itch nagging at the back of my skull.

  I tried to blink it away, the horizon plagued by mirages and glittering sunspots that made me ache. I could see it on the other’s faces that they felt it too, not a physical fatigue but a mental one. Because it wasn’t the climate or the elements that were on the attack, it was the journey, every step turning our own minds against us.

  An older woman was the first to fall, her stare pinned to something we couldn’t see. We crowded around, afraid to touch her or even speak as she mumbled to herself.

  “Please…I will…”

  “Mona…” A young woman crouched next to her.

  “Burns…don’t…I can. Please. Please. Please.”

  “Mona, can you hear me?”

  “Please, stop. Please.”

  Mona’s words echoed inside me, the memory of Roman’s flames making it hard to breathe. I backed away but the sound still followed.

  Sebastían held up a hand, shading us from the sun. “You okay?”

  I led him away from the group until we were out of earshot. “Do you remember how you got here?”

  He paused before looking back at Mona. “Yes.”

  “I can’t stand to look at her,” I said. “It’s too…familiar.”

  “Do you think that’s how he’s trying to force us back there? By driving us out of our minds like before?”

  “What happened back there in the forest with Kira…”

  “It was her nightmare.”

  “Exactly.”

  Sebastían looked around, the desert stretching in all directions. “Then who does this one belong to?”

  My knees buckled, the earth beneath me shifting. I took a step, sand spraying, but with every move I sunk a little farther.

  “What’s happening?” I said.

  The other Dreamers swayed and stomped and tried to run. Sebastían and I tried too, each step sticking, sand climbing to my ankles, to my calves.

  Sebastían tried to coax everyone together. “Who recognizes this?”

  No one answered, none willing to waste an ounce of breath, breath they might need once the sand got too high.

  “Please,” Sebastían said. “We can’t stop it until we know who.”

  Beneath the quiet panic there was one sound—someone gasping for breath. A boy with black hair and even darker eyes was already waist deep. Sebastían dove for him, a few others following, grabbing any piece of him they could as they tried to pull him free. They exposed his chest but the sand’s pull grew stronger.

  He pleaded in a foreign tongue, hands scraping at the shifting ground. There was more than fear in his eyes, there was dread. Dread of reliving something that had haunted him for as long as he could remember.

  “This is yours,” I said, “isn’t it?”

  His eyes snapped to mine.

  “Stop struggling.” He didn’t seem to understand at first, but the moment I stilled, so did he. “This is your nightmare?”

  He attempted a nod, ground loosening again.

  “What happens in the dream?” I tried to keep my composure, the sand hugging my thighs.

  He gasped, on the verge of panic again.

  “Look at me.” I locked eyes with him, not letting go. “What happens in the dream?”

  His face scrunched as he tried to decipher my words. “I die.”

  “And then?”

  He reached another level of stillness as the realization hit him. “I wake...”

  Sebastían stood as straight as he could, his height carrying his voice. “Everyone stop struggling.”

  Most hesitated, but eventually we all stood like rods, the granules climbing us inch by inch. I took Sam’s hand as Christine took Chloe’s and then we waited.

  Except for Mona.

  She thrashed, scratching at everything that moved—the sand, her hair, the wind.

  “She’s getting worse.” Christine’s voice caught, betraying her fear. For Mona, for all of us.

  The deeper I sunk, the harder it was to breathe, the weight of the sand making every word a struggle. I didn’t know what was waiting for us beneath the sand, maybe more, maybe our bodies. But we had no other choice than to watch each other disappear.

  The sand migrated in sections, wedging its way between every space and gap. It was already up to the boy’s chin and Chloe reached over, brushing it away from his mouth.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  He sucked in air. “Rami.”

  “Rami,” she repeated. “Does your nose itch?”

  He smiled, not quite understanding. Chloe wriggled her finger and he coughed a laugh, nodding. Chloe scratched the tip of his nose and he sighed in relief.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You…read minds?”

  Chloe pressed a finger to her lips and smiled. “I’m not supposed to tell.”

  Rami craned his neck, sucking in another breath. “I dream…” He stopped, searching for the words. “Two places, one time.”

  “You can be in two places at once?” I said.

  He nodded and Chloe’s eyes widened.

  I sunk another few inches, the fall startling me. Sam’s face was pinched and I knew she was trying not to cry. Chloe already was, her dry hiccups muffled against Christine’s shoulder.

  When I looked back, Rami was crying too. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”
/>
  “My nightmare.”

  “Don’t be.”

  I moved to brush the sand away from his mouth again, but as my finger met his skin, the shift was instant. The ground opened up, only this time it wasn’t swallowing the forest, it was swallowing Rami. In one sharp hiss he was gone, the sand spilling over his head. Mona followed, along with a few others. Sebastían went next, our eyes locked as he disappeared beneath us. I almost lost my hold on Sam, the sand loosening until it was rough against our chins, our cheeks.

  “Take a deep breath,” I said.

  Sam and I gulped down air, the sun disappearing overhead. We scraped deeper, our lungs straining. I waited for another drop, for the sand to loosen its hold. I waited for freedom. But we just kept sinking. Into more sand. Into nothing. Panic rattled against my throat, a sob trapped inside me. Sam cried, the sound small and pressing against her closed lips. I squeezed her, not knowing what else to do. There was nothing I could do except hold her while she shook and wish that it was over.

  I wished until there was no more air; no more hope. I wished until I was angry, until I knew it didn’t matter. My insides were on fire and all I could do was burn. I trembled, my chest about to split open. I tried to open my eyes, to see if I was back on that torture table, Anso mangling my body along with my mind. But before I could summon the courage the current changed, sweeping us in a new direction, faster and faster and then we were falling. The earth let go of us and we landed against something hard, what little air we had left knocked straight from our lungs.

  “Bryn?” Sebastían’s voice.

  I rolled onto my back, sucking in air until it didn’t hurt anymore. Sam gagged, her throat so dry I could hear every breath scraping its way down.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  I looked around at what was left of us—Sebastían, Joseph, Christine, Chloe and ten or so of the Dreamers from the other cells. Rami was gone and so was Mona.

  “Where are they?”

  Christine spoke into her hands. “They didn’t make it through.”

  “But Mona…she should have made it out. Rami disappeared because it was his nightmare but Mona…”

  “She was mad,” Sebastían said, “which is why we can’t sit around and wait.” He nodded past the group to the cavern that plunged into darkness. “We have to keep going.”

  Joseph pushed his way to the front. “I should lead the way.” He took a deep breath. “This one’s mine.” He faced the tunnel, hesitating, afraid of scaring the rest of us or maybe just uncertain of where to start. “My father used to take me and my brothers on caving expeditions when we lived in France. It was during one of these trips that I was struck with spontaneous Claustrophobia.” He tried to force a grin. “I thought I was going to die on many occasions. My father told me I’d grow out of it but I never did.”

  Joseph took a tentative step, triggering a deep rumble from within the cave. The stone above us split in two, dust trickling down.

  “What comes next?” Sebastían asked.

  Joseph rolled up his sleeves. “We run.”

  The cave severed in half, crumbling behind us, winding in front. Joseph navigated the way by memory, jerking right and then left before leading us into a narrow space that could only fit one at a time. Sam and I shuffled through, the walls shaking as the way we’d come collapsed. We were forced to our hands and knees, stone scraping my arms and legs until I smelled blood. The ground buzzed as a boulder crashed straight down, wedging between the walls and stopping just short of Christine’s legs.

  The crack of another avalanche sounded behind us but it was too dark to see who’d been caught by the falling rocks. I heard another crash, someone scream. But we couldn’t go back. Not now. I emerged in a fork, dizzy as Christine stumbled out behind me.

  “Where’d they go?”

  Sebastían’s mouth was by my ear. “This way.”

  I heard Joseph up ahead again but he was drowned out by another explosion. More screaming. Sam started to cry.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re almost out.”

  I could feel the space widening, a cool current leading us towards the surface. We emerged in a large space like the one we’d started in but we weren’t the only thing racing down those caverns. A wide crack slithered out across the stones above us, knocking them loose with a groan. A large shadow swelled over my head and I pushed Sam into Sebastían’s arms just as the stone pinned my legs to the floor.

  And then all I could do was throw my hands over my head and brace for the impact. Something knocked against my skull, my chin splitting against the floor, and then everything was black.

  26

  Roman

  I wasn’t sure how long the bus had been parked on the outskirts of Albuquerque, but when the driver tapped me on the shoulder, the engine was off and the other seats were empty. I dragged my bag down the aisle, unable to shake the dead look from my face. I wore it all the way home. I crawled into bed and slept in it.

  At work the next day, I chopped six cases of potatoes before I even realized I was moving, and for once, Cole was the one dragging me out from behind that dumpster in the alley.

  “Hello? Anybody home?”

  “Sorry.” I stood, knocking some sludge from the bottom of my shoes. “What time is it?”

  He checked his phone. “Seven. Still got two more hours to go, man.”

  “Shit. Do you think your sister would mind if I headed out early tonight?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a Tuesday so we’re pretty slow. I don’t see why not.”

  I found Chelsea chatting with another waitress behind the front counter.

  “Hey, Chelsea, you got a second?”

  “Sure,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “I think I’m sick.”

  She crossed her arms. “Oh, really?”

  “I swear. I don’t know if it’s contagious or anything but it definitely feels like one of those twenty-four hour bugs with a little strep throat mixed in. And I think I may be getting an eye infection, just in the left one. See, it’s sort of red near the corner.”

  “Ahuh…”

  I clutched my stomach for good measure. “Would it be okay if I clocked out early tonight, tried to sleep all this off?”

  She crossed her arms, smiled. “Fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’s slow.” She looked back into the kitchen. “Cole can handle it.”

  I looked back too. “Yeah, he seems more himself this week.”

  “Maybe he’s finally getting this whole thing under control.”

  I still wasn’t sure what this whole thing was that Chelsea was always referring to but I could tell that Cole hadn’t been bringing it to work with him lately.

  I grabbed my stuff out of my locker, passing an un-manned stove on my way. When I stepped into the alley I heard Cole’s voice, raised, angry. He was arguing with someone.

  “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

  “Oh, yeah? How was getting chased through the golf course the other night?”

  “I don’t need your help!”

  The dumpster rattled as someone struck it. I stepped around and saw a guy standing across from Cole, something bright peeking out from his coat sleeve. He dropped his hand, stuffed it in his pocket.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, watching the stranger, waiting for him to expose himself again.

  “Fine,” Cole said. “You heading out?”

  “I was...”

  “See ya.” Cole never took his eyes off the stranger either.

  “Yeah…” I took a tentative step, not sure if I wanted to leave yet, not sure if I should.

  The whistle of swirling snow turned into a howl, the rush of wind so strong that it pressed us against the walls of the alley. My face burned as the fences froze over, steel poles popping, the pavement cracking as ice carved into every groove and seam.

  I almost didn’t see them beneath the snow, their silhouettes trapped
in the sheen of the black ice. The first shadow sharpened into an arrow, diving straight for Cole. But before I could lift a hand, the stranger already had, driving it back. Two other shadows slunk down, rippling sails in the night, and suddenly I was on fire too. Cole stared, terrified and steeled to the wall. I swung, striking air, the two shadows converging until they weren’t floating or formless, but whole. Human.

  “Roman.” She sounded just like my mother. She was my mother.

  I remembered the night I’d made it down the stairs by myself for the first time after the accident. It should have been a moment of triumph, even joy, but the truth was I’d been running. From her. The shadow had lowered down from my bedroom ceiling, crawling towards me until the fog turned to hands and knees, to dark eyes and a familiar scowl. My mother had pinned me to the floor and I’d never been more afraid.

  Until now.

  Her false words were nothing but a reminder of the silence she’d left behind and here it was drawing me in again. Because as much as I feared her face and the sound of her voice, I longed for it too. I could feel myself drifting into her vortex, first my thoughts, then my hammering pulse, my feet dragging me closer.

  No. Don't believe it. I looked away. “You’re not real.”

  She moved closer. “The things we see are real. The things we hear and touch.” She brushed my cheek. “The things that touch us back.”

  “No.”

  “You were real to Bryn when you were setting her on fire.” A hand dug into my gut, cold and turning my bones to ice. “You were real when she was afraid. She’s seen what’s inside you, Roman. I’ve seen it too.” She twisted her fist, shattering my insides like glass. “I know you can feel the darkness inside you.” Her voice swam in my head. “Let it out.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t fight it.” Tears glinted against her lash line. “Let me in, Roman.”

  “Stop it!” I drove a fist straight through her, watching the flames catch.

  The burn was slow, my mother’s skin phosphorescent and made of stars. Stars that cut me open as I watched her die all over again. We locked eyes as the first flame grazed her cheek and then her ashes were swept up by the wind, the cold she left behind like a blade in my chest.