The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  I peered out from beneath the blankets and saw my father. He was the only one in the room, and from the way his boots sat against the wall, I knew he had been for a while. I’d expected to see my mom or Roman sitting there but not him. And certainly not with a pillow under his neck as if he’d just woken from a quick nap.

  He sighed, and I realized there was a phone pressed to his ear, his eyes scanning the street through the blinds. “Not yet. What do you think I’m doing here?” He paused. “It’s not my place.” More adamant this time. “I can’t, alright? Look, I don’t know where he is but Ce—. She knows.” My father turned, saw me blink, and suddenly he was kneeling, the phone abandoned on the floor. “Bryn?”

  I swallowed, the taste foul and dry. I coughed.

  “Bryn…”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He startled, but I couldn’t tell if it was at the sound of my voice, something I knew no one had heard for…well, I wasn’t sure how long, or if it was at my question. It felt harsh even as I’d said it but I needed to know what was real. I needed to know if this, if him being here, if that look of relief on his face was real.

  He didn’t answer, too busy examining me, probably trying to figure out if I was real too. I examined him just as closely, a new scar edging out from the collar of his shirt, a fresh scab on the back of his hand.

  The last time I’d seen him had been outside the airport before I left for Germany. We’d hugged, the touch of his skin igniting a vision that no longer felt like just a memory. It was tactile and living, and if I really concentrated, I could still feel the wind surging all around us, I could still smell the blood. He’d been covered in it. He’d been dying. Only he wasn’t. Not here and now. Not yet.

  “You’re bleeding…” My father’s voice sounded just as dream-like as mine had, the words not making sense at first.

  He pulled my wrist taut and I flexed my fingers, spotting the cut, the faint drops of blood on the sheets.

  Before I could say another word he headed for the door. “I’ll get your mother.”

  I stared at the wound, already healing, a new scar forming over the old ones right before my eyes. I remembered the razor gripped in my fist, Roman’s mother mumbling over and over that it wasn’t a dream. Is this what she’d meant? That if I’d hurt myself or if something else had, I might not have made it out?

  People shuffled in and out of my room for hours, nurses and strangers peeking in to gawk, doctors coming in to observe and take notes, my aunt, uncle, and grandmother stopping by with food and clean clothes or just to sit and watch me be awake. Because I hadn’t been for months.

  I hadn’t been alone since I’d woken up and I hadn’t had the luxury of silence for what felt like even longer. My mom finally disappeared for a moment, going to talk with Dr. Sabine and Vogle, and my Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Brian left to get things ready at the house for when I went home. My grandmother offered to stay with me, and this close, the room finally empty, she looked like a stranger. Like someone who’d sat by too many bedsides; who’d known nothing but goodbyes.

  I could see it all over her face, carved there by sleepless nights and the pain of being left over and over again. Before, I could blame it on my grandfather’s death or my great-grandmother disappearing or just the wreckage of old age. But those things weren’t to blame this time. I was.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  My grandmother was across the room in a second, sitting on the edge of my bed. She brushed my face, smoothed my hair back. “Don’t say things like that, Bryn.”

  “But I am.”

  “Everyone’s sorry enough. Everyone is…” her voice caught, “so sorry this happened to you.”

  “It felt like I was gone forever.”

  “And now you’re home. You’re home and it’s over.” There was doubt in her eyes, but she fought against it, her voice hard. “You’re safe.” She squeezed me tighter. “I love you, Bryn. I never thought I could love you as much as he did. I never thought it was possible.”

  Thinking of my grandfather was all it took to unravel me. Finally. Because I’d come so close to losing all of this just like I’d lost him. Tears stung my eyes, my grandmother scraping them from my cheeks.

  I finally gathered the resolve to ask, “How’s mom?”

  My grandmother patted my arm. “Better now.”

  “Has she been doing okay, I mean, with me and everything and—?”

  Something in her eyes urged me to leave it. “She’s better now. We’re all better now.”

  We…I almost couldn’t bring myself to say her name, everyone else having avoided it since the moment I’d woken up. But she was the last person I’d seen before I disappeared and I had to know… “Dani,” I said, “is she…she’s not—?”

  My grandmother took my hand. “She’s home. She’s been having a hard time…” She looked down. “She’s holding onto something, guilt, I think. But I know seeing you would do her a world of good. I wish she would have come today.”

  “I need to see her too,” I said.

  There was a knock on the door, balloons springing inside like tentacles. Felix peeked out from under them.

  “Oh, good.” My grandmother got up. “I think I’ll stretch my legs a bit.” She kissed my forehead, swatting at Felix’s balloons on her way out.

  He tied them to the end of the bed. “Wow…”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re here to gawk like everyone else.”

  He smiled wide. “Come on, like you wouldn’t.”

  “No. Actually, I would—”

  “Think it was pretty fucking amazing just like the rest of us.” He sat by the window. “It is, Bryn. I mean, it’s been months.”

  “Oh no, you’re going to get all sappy on me now too.”

  “No…” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.”

  “Try two.”

  He let out a laugh. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me too.” We both grew quiet, knowing exactly what was coming next. My grandmother had given me the vague version of the truth but I needed all of it. I needed to know that Dani was okay. “Felix…where is she?”

  He hung his head, kneading his hands. “She’s been avoiding the hospital as much as possible.”

  “But why?”

  His mouth turned down. “I’m an idiot. Obviously you wouldn’t know.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Ever since we got back from Germany, ever since what happened…Dani’s been…I don’t know, not herself. She’s been distant, and without sounding too harsh, she’s kind of been a total bitch to me.” He stared at his hands. “She told me she needed space so I gave it to her. And I shouldn’t have. I should have figured it out. That she wasn’t right, that she needed me.”

  “Felix…”

  “She’d been avoiding the hospital, which was strange, but I think everyone just thought she was really upset and that seeing you only made it worse. But then one day that changed.”

  “She came to see me?”

  “She tried to kidnap you, Bryn. She doesn’t remember any of it, but Vogle and I found you in the parking lot, sleepwalking. Dani was trying to lead you somewhere.”

  I sat up. “When?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  I shook my head, confused. “But she doesn’t remember?”

  “Nothing. It was like she was in some kind of trance or something.”

  “Does my grandmother know?”

  “I don’t think so. Just me and Vogle and…Roman.”

  My heart felt like it was floating free in my chest. “Roman?”

  “He knows you’re awake. I’m sure he’s coming.”

  “Sure but not certain?”

  Felix looked away and I knew something had happened between them. “I haven’t really talked to him much since that whole thing with Dani. I was supposed to be watching your room. I had been, I just…I only stepped away for a minute.”

 
“Felix, it’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not, and I know that. I’m sure Roman hates my guts right now. Not to mention the fact that your mom sort of kicked him out.”

  “What?”

  “She told him to go home. More like forced him. It’s a long story but when he finally called last night I told him you were awake. The line went dead after that and I couldn’t get him on his cellphone but I’m sure he’s on his way.”

  I instantly thought back to all of those unanswered phone calls after Roman had been taken by the Rogues. The same panic pricked me like a splinter in the back of my throat. I buried the feeling, trying to stay calm so that I could get as much information out of Felix as possible. Time already felt like it was moving too fast now that I was awake.

  “You’re sure no one else knows about Dani?” I asked.

  He nodded. “After Vogle and I found you, Vogle made it seem like you’d wandered out on your own. It wouldn’t have been the first time.”

  “What?” I stared straight ahead, every movement making me cringe. Like this wasn’t my body anymore. Like it hadn’t been for a long time.

  Felix watched the balloons as they fluttered beneath the air vent. “You’d been acting strange, trying to leave your room at night. And you were so adamant about it like you just had to be somewhere.”

  “How many times?” I asked.

  “A few.”

  “Felix.”

  “I don’t know. At least three.”

  “Three? How far did I get?”

  “Never past the first floor.”

  I took a breath, the first one since he’d said “a few.” The only thing that had saved me when I was stuck in the dream-state was the fact that my body was here. That it was safe. But what if it hadn’t been?

  “Have you seen the news at all?” Felix asked.

  “No, I haven’t really been alone all day.”

  Felix turned on the television and flipped to the evening news. I scanned the headline, finding the only word that mattered. COMA.

  “They’re calling it some kind of epidemic—people falling into spontaneous comas with no prognosis and no cure. It started in South America but now it’s spreading.”

  On the right side of the screen there was a small map, certain areas lit up and glowing blue.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “They can’t all be Dreamers.”

  “Thirty-seven,” Felix said. “That’s how many people between the ages of twelve and eighteen have fallen into comas in the past few months.”

  I thought of Victor, Joseph and Christine, all older than eighteen.

  “That’s not all they’re taking,” I said. “There are others, some old, some young.”

  “They? Bryn…what are you talking about?”

  It hit me, for the thousandth time that day that I’d been living in a different world than Felix. That in a way I still was.

  “I wasn’t just in a coma, Felix. I was in a prison.”

  He was quiet but I knew I had to tell him. I had to tell someone. I started with Anso and the other Dreamers before telling him about the nightmares. All of them. I told him about Sam too, about how I felt like I’d watched her die twice.

  “All this time…that’s where you were?” There was a crack, the remote in pieces on the floor. “We didn’t try hard enough. Shit, we didn’t even know how.”

  “Felix, I’m okay.”

  “Bullshit.” His eyes roamed my face. “You’re not okay, and I know…I know it was worse than you’re telling me.”

  “But it’s over.”

  Felix looked back at the television. “It’s not.”

  The shot transitioned from inside the station to a press conference outside of a big white building. A man and woman clutched each other behind a microphone. The information in the sidebar said their son had woken from a coma a week ago. He was just shy of eighteen. A picture popped up in the corner of the screen.

  “Sebastían.”

  I thought I’d lost him. I’d seen him on that torture table, soaking wet as Anso bled him dry. But now he was sitting up in bed, speaking, breathing. Alive.

  Felix turned to me. “Wait, you recognize him?”

  “Turn it up.”

  Felix stepped over the broken remote and reached for the television, hiking the volume. They talked about Sebastían’s condition and his miraculous recovery. They talked about his soccer scholarship to the university in Colombia and his high school sweetheart.

  “Is that her?” I said, pointing to a girl standing just behind his mother.

  “Look closer,” Felix said.

  “What is it?”

  He sighed, sat down by the window again. “Not good.”

  I examined her face in those brief moments it was visible. Tears glittered against her cheeks, catching the light. The glow spread to her cheeks and then it stopped.

  “Her eyes.” I turned to Felix. “They’re…”

  “Like Dani’s,” he said.

  “Like Michael’s,” I added.

  I wondered if Sebastían had tried to leave his room or if she’d tried to make him. I wondered if he knew.

  “Like I said, this shit’s not good.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not good at all.”

  44

  Roman

  When the temperature dropped I could tell the sun had finally gone down. The air wasn’t as thick and the sweat on the back of my neck had evaporated, though my hands were still dripping. Because night could only mean one thing. That I wasn’t going to see the judge today. That I’d be sleeping here instead of being on a bus to see Bryn.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The distance was unbearable and all the words Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to say ran through my mind on a loop. I wiped my brow and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate.

  The guards walked up and down the corridor every fifteen minutes, and each time they disappeared I pressed both hands to the wall until it was smoking. A few guards had stopped, trying to sniff out the smell, but I kept my back to the crumbling concrete, shielding it until it was thin enough to break through.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been at it, but I’d been fighting sleep since the moment I arrived. There was no slow weaning process off the pain meds they’d given me at the hospital and my body ached to rest. But Bryn was awake. Bryn is awake. I repeated it to myself, the words drumming along with the steps of the guards.

  Bryn is awake.

  Bryn is awake.

  More time passed, my eyes burning, the smoking stone not as potent as my own exhaustion. The shadow of a guard appeared and I tucked my hands away, trying not to hang my head. He pressed a walkie-talkie to his mouth, mumbled something about one AM.

  Don’t sleep. Bryn is awake.

  He left and I turned to the wall again. My head fell against the cold cinderblock, eyes fighting to close.

  Don’t sleep.

  Don’t…

  “Be careful, that’s hot.” Bryn was in her paint-splattered overalls, pointing to the tip of a weld that my hand was about to touch.

  Light flooded the concrete floor in beats of pink, blue and green, the sun filtered through these big glass windows and highlighting the unfinished sculptures that lined the walls.

  Bryn took a step back. “What do you think?”

  I examined the sculpture in the center of the room. It was a giant cactus made of gold copper, the flowers made out of a material I didn’t recognize and glinting like oil. The spines were thinner than a strand of hair, almost invisible in the light, but once I took a step to the left I could see every sharp edge. Bryn took my hand, pulling me around so I could see it from every angle. I felt one of those spines at the back of my throat, hope clawing up out of my gut that maybe this wasn’t a dream. That maybe it wasn’t one of her memories but the future. Maybe we had one after all.

  My eyes watered and I blinked the tears back but not soon enough.

  “What’s wrong?” Bryn asked.

  “It�
��s…” I choked, not wanting to dilute this moment with reality. I faced her. “It’s beautiful.”

  Her cheeks burned red, tears in her eyes too. She kissed me. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I love it,” I said.

  “Then why do you look sad?” Her face softened. “Are you dreaming again?”

  “Am I?”

  She pursed her lips. “Must be a bad one.”

  She led me outside the workshop and the air stung my nose, thick and salty. Tall grass thrashed in the breeze and I knew the ocean wasn’t far.

  “Where am I?” I asked.

  “You’re home.” Bryn smiled. “You haven’t made it this far yet.” She reached for my face, ironing the lines on my brow with her thumb, tracing my jawline. “But you will.”

  I felt the blast before I heard it, my eyes snapping open. Dust and shards of concrete scraped past my arms as I threw them over my face, the rest of my body still numb from sleep. Sleep. How long had I slept? Flames brushed my skin and when I looked up Andre was dragging me through the hole that had been blasted through the wall.

  “What the hell?”

  “No time.”

  He pushed me onto grass, onto gravel, and then we were running. We only got a few yards out before I heard sirens. There was nothing but open field and I knew they could see us. A motor started up but I couldn’t tell which direction the sound was coming from.

  I heard gunshots, bullets scattering dust at our feet. Wind zipped past my ear, a bullet just missing me. The sound of gunfire intensified but the zip of bullets vanished. I looked back, each piece of lead stopping short before disintegrating. One bullet stopped inches from the tip of my nose, fine flecks disappearing on the wind.

  There was yelling, policemen aiming their empty hands. One officer examined his gun as it fell to pieces in front of him.

  “Wha—?

  Andre dragged me forward. “I said no time.”

  I jumped after him into the back of a truck. It bucked onto the road, the driver gaining speed.