by Eliza Nolan
We found Nate in the living room, and Clara filled him in. "Looks like we'll have to do dinner another time," she said.
Nate frowned. "Too bad," he said, grabbing his coat from the arm of the couch. "Need a ride?" he asked me.
I nodded and said goodnight to Clara.
I made it home just before Dad.
I started to climb the stairs when I heard Dad's car on the driveway and stopped. My shoulders slumped. Oh yeah, I was still pissed with him for withholding the information about Mom - about my history. As he put the key in the front lock, I changed course and headed to the living room. He promised we'd talk. I sat down, arms crossed, and prepared my best you're mean stare as he walked through the door.
"I know, Julia." Wow, he was never this agreeable. "I thought about it last night." He pulled off his coat, hung it in the closet, and sat down next to me. "I've been holding onto your mother's note, with that warning, because it was the last thing I had from her. And I didn't want to let her go." He shook his head, still struggling with it. "I thought if I went with the theory that we really were in danger, it would keep her in our lives somehow. For me it did, because it allowed me to think of her in a good light. After all, she left to protect us."
He took a deep breath. "But I don't know if I believe that anymore. It's been sixteen years since she left and no one's ever tried to harm us." He ran his hand through his hair. "I have to recognize the possibility that she was actually just running away from me."
"Dad. She wouldn't have left us without a good reason." Was I actually defending the exact thing that had made him so paranoid and overprotective all these years? Yeah, but it was easier than accepting the idea of Mom leaving because she was sick of us
It didn't matter what I said, though. He'd already convinced himself otherwise. "If she really was trying to protect us, she should've at least cared enough to send us a letter or get us a message somehow. I'm sorry, Julia. Will you forgive me for being such a pain all these years?"
I forced back the screams of injustice in my head. I could no longer be mad at him now that I knew the truth, particularly seeing how upset he was with himself. "It's okay, Dad."
He sighed. "I realized when I got so worked up over your friend Graham being from Charleston, that I was wound up too tightly." He laughed. "If my brother wanted to send someone after us, he wouldn't send a teenage boy." He smiled apologetically.
I managed a smile back.
Dad blew out a breath. "I promise to try to be more relaxed with you. But please be patient. I've been this way for many years and I can't just let you go. But I will try my best to be more reasonable."
After all the years of crazy he'd put me through, could he really change? I clamped my lips shut. He was trying, so I let it go.
Chapter Fifteen
If it wasn't for the digital clock on Graham's nightstand I would be blind. As my eyes adjust, I make my way over to his bed, where he lies sleeping.
His bare shoulders peek out above the covers, hunched. His brow is furrowed as if he's in pain. I run my fingers through his hair trying to sooth it away.
Instead, I wake him.
"Julia?" he whispers.
"Does it still hurt?" I ask.
He nods.
He squeezes his eyes closed and a tear runs down his cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb, then brush his temples gently with my fingertips. The prickly sensation comes immediately.
I run my fingers along the side of his face. The prickles make it feel like my fingers are asleep, only it tickles too. I suppress a giggle as I trace my fingers down his cheeks, and then put my hands under the back of his neck. Everywhere I touch, my skin tingles. I lean down and kiss him. The sensation when our lips touch is so intense, it radiates throughout my body. Graham's arms envelop me, and he pulls me into a long heavy kiss.
"What are you doing to me?" Graham asks when we finally come up for air.
"I don't know." And truthfully, I don't care.
He rolls us over, pulling himself on top. He holds his head back to look at me, and then leans in and touches my lips with his. Brushing against them, I reach my head up, leaning into the kiss, and he pulls away just a little, teasing me. I wrap my arms around his body and pull myself up to him. He leans into me, and we kiss. His arms hold me so close, but somehow it isn't close enough. It will never be close enough. I press my body into his.
My hands move up his bare back. His skin is hot and smooth. I register every muscle tracing my fingers along his shoulders, down to his arms. They're solid, and yet so gentle when they hold me. "Don't ever let me go," I say.
"I won't." Graham kisses my jaw, and slowly brushes his lips down my neck to the hollow between my collarbones.
A gasp escapes my lips.
He pulls up. "Did you hear something?"
Oh, God, why did I gasp? I'm such a dork. "That was me," I say, thankful the lights are out because my face must be bright red.
"No, not that." He smiles and kisses my temple.
And then a hand clamps over his mouth. Graham's eyes widen as he registers what's happening. The man standing above us came out of nowhere. His other arm sweeps out quickly and he jabs a syringe into Graham's neck. The light fades from Graham's eyes as he's pulled away from me.
I see the man's face. It's the guy from the bus. Graham's body goes limp. The man hoists Graham up over his shoulder and carries him out of the room.
I run after him, screaming and crying out, but the man doesn't even turn. It's like he can't hear me. Then I realize; I'm dreaming.
The scene changes abruptly.
I stand near the church ruins with Aydan. She's calm, but sad.
"You'll have to go after Graham," she says.
"Why don't they just leave us alone?"
"Because they need Graham. Without him, they cannot finish the rites. The group of Beshi that starts this journey together is only whole as long as it has all of its members. If the group loses even one, it will not ascend to the next level and ceases to be a legitimate vessel for the Powers of the Phoenix. So, you see, they can't do it without him.
"They'll try to finish this now that they have Graham. You have to be there when they do, or this will end badly. People will get hurt. People will die. And the power they unleash will…let's just say, in their hands, it is very bad magic."
* * *
I bolted upright in bed and grabbed my phone from the bedside table, dialing Clara's number. The morning sun peeked in my window; not that I cared what time of day it was. I pulled my hair back out of my face as the phone rang.
"Julia?" she answered, her voice alert.
"Graham's gone, isn't he? They've taken him."
"We don't know that. Maybe he just ran away," Clara said. "Wait, how'd you know he was missing?"
"I saw it. It was the man who was messing with me on the bus."
"You were here?" she asked.
"Not exactly."
"You had another one of those dreams?"
"I did." The details came flooding back. All of them. I examined every moment, wondering if there was some reason I should've known the man was coming. Maybe I was sent there to warn him, but I screwed it up by letting my hormones go crazy on me. I should've been helping Graham, but instead I'd turned it into a massive horny fest.
It was all my fault.
"I'm coming over."
I got to Clara's house as fast as a yellow cab would take me.
When I arrived, the police were already there. As soon as Clara saw me, she pushed them at me telling them I knew something.
I panicked. Oh God, no. What could I say? Yes, police officer, I dreamed Graham got snatched. They'd put me away. But as they asked their questions, I could answer most of them truthfully. I couldn't say I'd seen him abducted, but I could tell them I'd met a strange man on the bus, describe him fully, and tell them everything I knew about Graham's old friends in Charleston.
After about fifteen minutes of telling them all I could, the officer thanked me
and entered the house. I followed, watching him head for the kitchen where Graham's mom and stepdad sat. I took a seat on the couch and checked my phone to see if I'd gotten any messages from Graham.
"Julia." I looked up. Nate had wandered in from outside.
I checked the time. It was eight in the morning. "What are you doing here?"
"Clara called me." He sank into a stuffed chair across from me and twiddled his thumbs.
We waited in silence until a dazed Clara finally emerged from the kitchen. "They're not gonna look for him."
"What?" Nate leaned forward.
Clara held out her hands, palms up. "They said he's eighteen and has a history of not coming home at night in Charleston. There aren't any signs of a struggle or anything. So he's not a priority. Once they file the report, it's done." She eased herself down on the arm of Nate' chair, and he put an arm around her.
I stood up. "What do your parents think?"
"They think he ran back to Charleston to be with his friends, just like the police."
"Did you tell them what I told you?" I asked frantically. Could this really be where the search ended? They wouldn't even try?
"I can't just tell them you saw him taken in a dream. It doesn't sound rational. I did tell them I thought someone kidnapped him. But they just quoted figures the police had told them - how most missing persons end up being runaways."
I had folks like Samantha to thank for those lovely statistics. Yes, she'd run away. But this was different. Graham had really been taken.
"I have to go after him." Wow, did I really just say that?
"No, you can't, Julia," Clara said, shaking her head.
"I have to. I think I may be the only one who can stop them."
"These are the people who tied me up and left me for dead."
Nate took her hand in an effort to comfort her. "What makes you think you can do anything?"
"I'm not sure." All I could think about was what Aydan had said. If there really was a chance I could stop this, if I could save Graham, why wouldn't I go down there? "I have to try."
"I'm going with you," Clara managed to declare at the worst possible moment.
"Like hell you are." Her mother's voice roared from behind us. Where the heck had she come from? "My car keys." Still in her pink bathrobe with a serious case of bed head, she thrust out her hand to Clara. "You're only sixteen. Graham may not have to follow our rules, but you still do."
Clara reluctantly dug the set of car keys out of her pocket and handed them over.
Her mom turned to us. "It's about time you two got to school."
We got up. "I'll give you a ride," Nate said. "I can give Clara a ride, too."
Her mother shook her head. "I think they'll understand if we keep her home today." She glanced at Clara, who frowned and crossed her arms in front of her.
"See you tomorrow," Clara said.
We waved to her and went to Nate's car.
As soon as we pulled away from the curb, my phone pinged. It was from Clara.
Call Luke when you get to Charleston. He'll help you. 843-555-0038.
I turned to Nate. "I'm going."
"No way." Nate ran a hand over his short blond curls. "How are you going to get down there?"
I smiled broadly. "Nate?" I said, grasping at straws.
"What?" He paused a second before answering my unasked question. "No way! I'm not letting you take my car. It's five years older than I am, there's no way it would make that trip."
He was right. His car was ancient. He even had duct tape holding it together in places.
Crap. I had no way of getting down to Charleston. I had no car, and no money to purchase a plane ticket, thanks to Samantha spending a huge chunk of my savings.
And then it hit me. "Nate, can you turn left at the next light?"
He followed my directions and I guided Nate to a building a few blocks away.
He pulled up in front of Como Alternative High School.
A group of teenagers sat on a bench near the entrance. One of them with short blue hair.
"Wait here," I said to Nate, hopping out the car and heading straight for Samantha.
"Hi Samantha," I said.
She glared at me, obviously still upset with me for handing her over to her parents. But even with all her facial piercings and her vibrant newly dyed blue hair, I still saw the awkward brunette with braces and a kitty sweatshirt I'd met in seventh grade. She didn't scare me.
"Samantha," I said, "about the money you owe me."
"What about it?" She crossed her arms.
"I was wondering if you'd like to trade in the debt for some information."
"I'm listening." She stood up.
I looked at the other people with her. Mostly other punks, our old friends, but I hadn't known them when they were younger. Them, I was a little afraid of. "Let's go down here a ways," I said, motioning down the street.
"No," Samantha said. "We can either talk here or not at all."
"Fine," I said. "I'll just go tell your parents what you were really doing when you ran away. I'm sure they'd love to know that you were hopping trains and sleeping in abandoned buildings."
Samantha squinted her eyes in irritation and led the way down the sidewalk away from her friends.
"What's this about?" she asked.
"I need to know how to get out of town fast, and I was wondering if you'd show me how to hop a train," I said.
Her nose scrunched up and her head jerked back. "What? First you threaten that you're going to tell on me for hopping trains and now you want me to teach you how? Julia, you're nuts! Your father'd kill me if he found out I put you on to hopping trains."
"I won't tell him it was you," I said.
"He'll figure it out," she said. And she was right. Anything stupid I did, my father was happy to blame, partially anyway, on the influence of Samantha.
"I don't have time for this right now, Samantha," I said. "I'm in a hurry. Do you know how to get to Charleston by train hopping?"
Samantha looked at me in disbelief. "Why Charleston?"
"Samantha," I said, anxiety kicking in, "can you please tell me how to get there? We were really good friends once upon a time. I know we've had some major ups and downs, but I could really use your help right now. I need to get to Charleston, and I don't have time to explain it all to you."
Samantha chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment and then said, "I don't know how to get there, but I may be able to find out."
I perked up. "Will it take long?"
"Just a sec." She pulled out her phone and walked a few steps away, holding it up to her ear.
As she talked on the phone, I tried to picture myself riding in a boxcar all the way across country. It was such an insane idea, but it just might work. Please let it work.
"Okay," she said when she hung up. "Go pack. Pack light, pack warm, and wear dark clothing. I'll meet you at the convenience store near the train yard where you picked me up last week. Can you get ready and be there by eleven?"
"Yes," I said as adrenalin coursed through me at an alarming rate. Was I actually about to do this? "You don't know what this means to me."
She gave me a half-hearted grumpy look. "You're right, we used to be very good friends, and this is the least I can do after the way you helped me last week. Even if you did force me to go home and get grounded for the rest of my life."
"Are you really grounded forever?" I asked.
"No. They knew if they grounded me they'd lose me, so they took away my allowance and gave me twice as many chores instead. I'm surviving."
"Good," I said. "See you at eleven." I bounded back to Nate's car and hopped in.
"What's going on?" Nate asked.
"I have to go home and pack a few things," I said. "Can you give me a ride?"
"Sure. If you tell me how you're getting to Charleston."
"I'm taking the train."
"Doesn't that cost almost as much as flying? Why not just fly?" he asked.
"I'm not talking about a passenger train. I'm hopping a train to Charleston." The words sounded strange coming from my mouth.
"That's insane." His brow furrowed. "Samantha's going to lead you down to Charleston?"
"No," I said. "She's going to find out how for me. I can't ask her to come. She's already in a heap of trouble from the last time she hopped a train."
"So you'll go by yourself?"
"Yes."
He stared out the windshield as if picturing all the perils before me. "That's dangerous," he said.
I couldn't agree more, but I said, "This is the best way to get to Graham, the only way. How about that ride, Nate?"
He sighed and turned the key in the ignition, the car coughed to life. "Let's go."
At my house, Nate waited in the car while I packed. I dumped my books out of my backpack onto my bed. Samantha said to dress warm in dark clothing. The dark clothing wouldn't be much of an issue. I threw on a bunch of extra layers and tossed some underwear, socks, and an extra shirt in the bag, and topped it off with my sleeping bag. Lucky for me it was one of those mummy ones that pack small.
I grabbed my parka and headed back downstairs.
I left a note for Dad telling him I was going after a friend and would be back in a few days. I left out the where and how. Even though he promised to try to be more lenient with me, I was pretty sure that wouldn't include allowing me to hop freight trains across state lines.
Chapter Sixteen
Nate was silent as he drove me to the store near the train yard to meet Samantha, giving me time to consider what I was doing. Was it bravery or stupidity making me go after Graham? I'd never hopped a train before in my life, and I'd heard stories of people getting killed because they didn't know what they were doing. Did I think I could just become a pro overnight? Not only was I planning on making my way halfway across the country on big bad freight trains, I was going to do this alone. Who knew what type of baddies I would meet along the way?
By the time we reached the store, I was terrified.
Samantha stood waiting for us in the parking lot. She rushed up to the car as we pulled in. "If you're serious about this, we need to go now. The train's about to leave."
