“You have to. I don’t know what will happen if he tries to bring you back and you’re in a different place. Now go on. Leave him here with me.”
“Are you going to kill him?”
“No, I’m going to keep him here where he can’t hurt anyone else.”
“Let us take him back. He was at the hospital, too, right?” Troy felt the clock ticking as she looked at Jake’s prone figure.
Emma gestured at Abe. “When are you going to stop playing God?”
“When I die,” Abe said, his eyes snapped with anger. “Do you understand that if we let him go back, he will wake up? This boy is a murderer. What are you going to do? Wait around until he kills people in the real world? Are you really willing to take that chance? You don’t have time to deal with him. You need to get back to the hospital,” he said to Troy, “and you need to get back to your condo.”
Emma was incredulous. “My condo? Why there?”
“Your parents took you home after about a month in the hospital. They wanted you amongst your things.”
“I’m not leaving her alone,” Troy said.
“You have to. If you’re not back in your hospital room when my partner induces you, you might not make it back.”
“I’m not leaving her.” Troy’s tone was final.
Emma closed her eyes and pressed a thumb to the bridge of her nose. “What if he’s telling the truth?”
“What if he’s not? What if he’s just trying to get us to split up?”
“Lock us in with the padlock,” Abe said. “The bars will slow him down. Go now. You’re wasting time.” Troy backed toward the hall, pulling Emma with her. Abe was holding on to the frail boy as if cradling a baby.
“You told us you didn’t know he was a foster kid. Why would you say something like that to him?” Troy asked.
“I said what I had to. Did you see what he did to his parents? They might have been better off if they had sent him back.”
Troy shook her head. “All I know is that boy needed help from the day he was born. He didn’t need someone diddling with his brain, and he certainly didn’t need to be dropped into a world with no human contact. I saw what he did to his parents. But it makes me wonder if he was crazy before you put him here or if your little dream world was the last straw. I don’t see how you can live with yourself.”
“I won’t have to.” The words were spoken with the assurance of a person who had seconds to live.
“Troy,” Emma pulled at Troy’s arm, “we should go.” Troy gave a little start and turned to look at Emma. Emma’s eyes had reddened and her face had the same pained, dazed look she had had when she had fainted in the condo.
Troy let Emma pull her out in the hallway, but she never broke eye contact with Abe. “I hope he doesn’t wake up before you die,” she said and shut the door.
“Should we put the padlock on?” Emma asked.
“Yeah, put it on.”
She waited for the padlock to click home before pulling Emma into her arms. “We have less than forty-five minutes. It took us over an hour to get here.”
“That doesn’t give us enough time,” Emma said as Troy released her from the hug.
“We’ll have to make it enough time.” Troy’s face was set in a grim line of determination. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Neither of them looked toward Mr. and Mrs. Ostraph’s room as they left the house. Once outside, Troy jogged over to a Honda sitting in the driveway next door and pulled at the handle. “Shit.” She started back toward the Ostraph’s house, stopped and backtracked. A large hose and sprinkler head had been left in the middle of the Ostroph’s grass. She had already unscrewed the sprinkler head by the time Emma had reached her side.
“We can make it in time if we drive,” Troy said as Emma covered her hand and Troy realized it had been shaking until Emma had steadied it. Tears began spilling down her cheek and she hated herself for not being stronger for Emma. “We have to try, don’t we?” She knew the answer; of course they had to try. But she needed to say the words out loud because it would be so easy to just finish life there. But she knew they couldn’t—not without trying to get themselves back to reality. If they didn’t fight—if they just gave up—this world would become a larger version of Emma’s condo, nothing more than a safe prison.
“I think we both have to stop hiding. We have to try to get back, and if we can’t, we’ll live the best life we can here,” Emma said with quiet determination.
“All right then, move back,” Troy ordered. When she was sure Emma was clear she sent the nozzle slamming toward the window. She cleared a hole big enough to stick her hand through and unlocked all the doors with the flip of a switch. “Get in,” she said.
Emma slid into the passenger seat and watched as Troy fumbled under the steering column.
“You know how to hot-wire a car?” Emma’s voice sounded incredulous.
“Used to know how. Old boyfriend taught me.”
“Boyfriend?” The words were out of Emma’s mouth before she could stop them and Troy looked up and smiled.
“I was fourteen. All he wanted to do was smoke cigarettes and make out. Those two things don’t mix, in my opinion, so I—” Troy paused and gritted her teeth. “Damn it. That’s not it,” she said under her breath. “So I broke it off. It’s a heart-wrenching tale of shattered dreams and teen angst. I’ll have to tell you all about it over coffee someday.”
“Coffee?”
Troy sobered. “Yes, coffee.” Her hand went to Emma’s cheek. “If we’re able to get out of this, I hope you’ll want to see where this leads us.”
“Every day, for the rest of our lives.”
“That could be a long time,” Troy said, smiling.
“I hope so,” Emma said.
Troy smiled again, looking relieved. “Let me get going on this. It shouldn’t take that long. These things are as easy as picking an old U-lock.”
Emma was beginning to think Troy had spoken too soon when five minutes later they were still sitting in the driveway. “Troy maybe we should…”
The engine coughed, sputtered, and grumbled to life. Troy pumped her fist in the air and shifted the car into reverse.
Emma expected to feel excited, but her dread deepened as Troy backed out of the driveway.
“How much time do we have?” Troy asked as she put the car in drive and, with her eyes riveted on the road, pressed her foot to the floorboard and sent the car gunning down the narrow street.
“Thirty-eight minutes.” Troy drove in silence. Her forearms bulged as she gripped the steering wheel. A muscle along her jaw line appeared and disappeared at random intervals and once she said something to herself. Emma thought it sounded as if she were counting.
“How are you doing?” Emma asked after what seemed like several long minutes of silence. Many of Troy’s emotions were as apparent to her as if they had been written on paper. But she would much rather hear her voice than sit in pensive silence wondering if they would make it on time.
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to puke.”
“Me, too,” Emma said.
Troy glanced at her. “Why are you going to puke?”
“Because you drive really badly, Troy.”
Troy said nothing at first and then she began to laugh. “I’ll tell you what. When we get back, I’ll let you give me driving lessons. Hell, I may even get an actual Oregon driver’s license.”
Emma was holding on to the armrest with her right hand and her left was gripping Troy’s thigh. She gasped and tore her eyes away from the road long enough to gawk at Troy. “You have got to be fucking kidding me?”
Troy doubled over trying to both steer and control her laughter. Soon Emma was laughing, too.
The laughter subsided, and Emma forced herself to relax her grip on Troy’s thigh. There was so much she wanted to say to Troy, but if she said it all now, wouldn’t that be like admitting she wouldn’t have time to say it later?
Too soon and not soo
n enough Troy was pulling the Honda toward the curb in front of Emma’s building. She got out of the car with the engine still running and went around to the passenger side. Emma had already opened her door and was getting out of the car.
“Okay?” Troy asked.
“Yes,” Emma said, but everything was not okay. She hadn’t planned to come back here, and she hadn’t planned to separate from Troy. Emma found herself standing outside the lobby doors. She punched in her code with trembling fingers and they walked through the quiet foyer. The ride up the elevator seemed quicker than Troy remembered. Emma’s hand felt so small. Troy wanted to tuck it into her own pocket to keep it safe. When the elevator pinged at Emma’s floor they both jumped.
“Ready?” Emma asked. Troy squeezed her hand and they stepped off the elevator and into the hallway.
It took Troy six minutes, with the help of a fire extinguisher, to break the knob off Emma’s front door.
Nothing had changed in the condo, but something about it made Emma feel uncomfortable. She felt like she had already said her goodbyes and now she was back. They stood in the center of the condo facing the window seat.
Emma looked at the clock her mother had bought her and thought how much she hated that clock. “You have twenty-seven minutes.”
“That’s plenty of time.” Troy pulled the gun out of her pants pocket. “Here, you keep this. You won’t need it, but I’ll feel better.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” They stood looking at each other. “I am not going to say goodbye to you,” Troy said sternly. “If this doesn’t work, I’ll come back for you. If it does, I’ll come for you. No matter what, I’ll come for you. You understand?” Emma was unable to answer.
Troy pulled her close and kissed her, holding her so tight that Emma could feel her body shaking with the effort. Emma welcomed it and as their lips met, she felt Troy’s love hit her with so much force that her body jerked. Troy deepened the kiss.
She loves me. She might not realize it yet, but she does. That would be enough to get her through the next twenty-six minutes.
Troy broke off the kiss. “I better go. Put the chains on.” Without looking back, Troy walked out the door, slamming it behind her. Emma limped to the door to put the three safety chains on. She heard the ping of the elevator, and an instant later, the faint whoosh of the doors sliding shut.
She limped to the window and looked down at the Honda. Troy came jogging out of the building and Emma put her hand to her mouth to keep from calling out to her.
Troy stopped just before getting into the car and looked up at Emma. Again Emma felt how hard it had been for Troy to leave her and she held on to it.
“Emma?” Troy called out.
“Troy, you need to go.”
“I will, but you remember what I said, okay? I mean it.” Troy wanted to tell her that she was falling in love with her, but she couldn’t. That would be too much like a goodbye. But then, maybe she already knew. Troy found the thought comforting, and with bleary eyes she jumped in the car and pulled away from the curb. Twenty-five minutes would be plenty of time.
Troy pictured Emma sitting on the couch in the condo, alone and scared. She wished with all her heart that she could be with her. She hoped Emma could sense what she hadn’t had time to tell her. She found her heart reaching for Emma, wanting to feel her quiet trust, to feel her passion again. She was halfway across the bridge before she realized it. The car’s clock said she had twenty minutes left.
Almost there, baby. Don’t worry. Just close your eyes, and when you wake up, we’ll have the rest of our lives together. Almost there.
Chapter Twenty
I’ll come for you. No matter what, I’ll come for you. Emma could hear Troy’s voice deep inside her.
“Emma, can you hear me? Please wake up, sweetheart. Momma and Daddy are right here. We’re right here. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. No one’s going to hurt you ever again.”
Pain. White-hot and intrusive shot through her forehead, down her neck, and into her arms, back, and legs. Her throat felt full and ragged. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then a train ran through her brain pushing her faster than she was ready to go.
“Keep talking to her, Darby. I think she’s coming out of it.”
“Emma, we’re here. Please come back to us. We need you.”
Wet tears moistened crusted ones and formed a seal. She forced herself to open her eyes despite the pain. Lights, harsh and bright, scorched her corneas and sent a shooting pain to the back of her head. She blinked and the world sharpened. Her mother was dressed in shockingly casual jeans and a pinkish gray sweater. Her father wore a tan sweater and khakis. Both looked rumpled, tired, scared, and joyful. Emma’s heart hurt for allowing herself to grow distant from them.
“Emma,” her mother sobbed, “that’s it, sweetheart. Wake up.”
She opened her mouth and sucked in air. She couldn’t smell anything; her tongue was heavy, so heavy that talking felt impossible.
“Where…?” A hot poker of pain shot all the way down her throat. More tears filled her eyes, blurring her parents’ tear-stained faces. Somehow, her mother must have understood that she was trying to ask a question.
“You’re at home. You’ve been hurt. The doctor should be here soon.”
“Troy?”
“Toy? I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”
“Troy?”
“Troy?” her mother was shaking her head. She looked at her husband for help and finally back at Emma. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know a Troy.” Emma looked at her mother desperately and then to her father.
Emma tried to speak, but this time, nothing came out.
“Don’t try to talk, Emma. Just let the doctors help you. You’ve been hurt. Things were pretty touch-and-go. We flew in as soon as we could.”
A man in a white lab coat walked in and introduced himself. Emma was having a hard time focusing. She needed to ask him something, but she was beginning to forget what it was. Emma didn’t take her eyes off her mother; a soft, sorrowful joy swept over her from both her parents. Joy at having her alive and sorrow at how much she had been hurt.
“Doctor? I think she might be trying to ask for something or someone. She seems pretty upset.”
The doctor looked up from Emma’s charts. “Ma’am, she’s been through a lot. Her brain will need time to recover.”
“Can’t you give her something so she doesn’t hurt herself?” Her mother’s breath smelled of coffee and spearmint gum.
“We need to let the other meds get out of her system first.”
Emma reached up and caught the doctor’s wrist before he could pull away. She held it as tightly as she could. She said Troy’s name again but very little sound came out.
He gently pulled his wrist from her grasp. Emma could read his confusion and wariness but nothing else. If he was trying to deceive her in any way, she would have known. She closed her eyes; a ragged painful sob escaped from her throat. Where is she? Where the hell is she? Tears began to gather in the back of her eyes.
“I think she’s having trouble breathing.” Her father’s voice sounded high and scared.
“Ms. Webster, are you all right?” Emma shook her head pushing his hand aside.
Idiot. Of course I’m not all right.
She felt the prick before she could do anything to stop it. “Easy now. We are just going to calm you down a little. All right. We can’t have you getting too excited right now. You’ve been through a lot,” he said as he removed the needle from her arm.
“Thank you, Doctor,” her mother said.
Dr. Shorenstein said something else to her, and then turned toward a figure that Emma hadn’t noticed before.
“Keep an eye on her. If it starts to…” Emma felt as if she was being moved away from the voices hovering over her. She tried to hold on to her anger, but it, too, faded away, and she began to forget why she was s
o upset.
“Will Dr. Dunham be in to see her? We want to thank him, too.”
That’s it. Now she remembered. Dr. Dunham was the one. He was the one that had done this to them. He was the one she should be angry at.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news. Dr. Dunham suffered an aneurism a few days ago. He died in his sleep.”
Emma heard a quick inhale of breath and then silence. “He was so young,” she heard her father say, but she couldn’t make out the rest.
“It was quite a shock. Just a wife…no kids…brilliant future.”
She was struggling to stay awake, and although the anger was there, she didn’t remember why.
No. I remember. I remember. I don’t know where Troy is. What if she didn’t make it back?
Emma glared at the youthful face of the doctor until he cleared his throat and turned to her parents. “She needs some rest, so I suggest you two take a break for a while.” He cleared his throat again and left the room.
You bastard. What did you do with Troy? I saw the look on your face when I said her name. I didn’t dream her. I didn’t make her up. A warm hand on her forehead pulled her from thoughts that were fast becoming disjointed.
“Sweetheart, the nightmare is over. You’re here with Daddy and me. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
She felt like she was moving through space without a tether, and really, she just didn’t care anymore. Her mother was right; she was tired, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when she woke up next time. Then she would find her. She wouldn’t forget. It wasn’t a dream. She would find Troy.
Her name is Troy and she is not a dream. Not her. Not that part.
She felt soft hands wipe tears from the side of her face with a Kleenex. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. Things will be better tomorrow.”
*
Emma watched Dr. Shorenstein go through the motions of checking her vitals every day for the next week. He had said that she needed to be observed 24/7. She had been moved from her condo to Oregon Unified Hospital, where both Dr. Shorenstein and Dr. Dunham, according to her mother, were on staff. The ride from the condo to the hospital had been quiet. Emma had spent much of the time trying to remember why she had felt so sad until she had finally fallen into a deep sleep.
Never Wake Page 24
