by L. E. DeLano
Finn. Hallelujah!
I slide into my seat in creative writing class, and all the air comes out of my lungs in a whoosh of relief.
I stare at the phone, feeling like someone has their icy-cold fist wrapped around my stomach. And not just any someone.
Almost a full minute passes, and then the Traveler returns a video. It’s only four seconds long, and it’s clearly Finn. He’s got a cut on his left cheek and he’s squinting from the flash. Everything around Finn is dark. There’s nothing in the background that can tell me anything. I can see in his eyes that he’s desperate to tell me something, but all he manages to get out before he’s cut off is “Jessa—”
I switch to text, punching the keypad angrily.
Whoever this Traveler is, she’s awfully sure of herself, and a few seconds later, I can see exactly why. She’s attached a picture. At first it just appears to be some random crowd scene, but then I zoom in and see clearly that it’s my mom and my brother. They’re in the parking lot at the retirement home, and they’re talking to a coworker, completely unaware that a murderer is right behind them.
I am going to be sick. I fight the nausea back, and try not to hyperventilate. Ms. Eversor finally strolls into the classroom with her coffee mug clutched in her hand, calling out a cheerful good morning in a voice that makes me want to scream at her.
She moves to the whiteboard and turns her back as she maps out the next issue of The Articulator, so I carefully pull out my phone, watching the video again and again. I even turn my phone into the light and up the brightness on my screen in an effort to see his surroundings. I don’t know why I bother. He’s probably in a closet. Or a car trunk. Or his own grave, for all I know.
Oh God. Why did I think that?
I’ve got to get out of here. I have to find Finn, but how? If Finn were here, he’d probably come up with something, but I can’t seem to focus. My mind has been taken over by a blank wall of panic.
What if he’s hurt? My stomach roils at the thought.
“So, Matthew and Evan,” Ms. Eversor says cheerily. “You will cover the sports for this issue, but touch on more of the human interest, you understand? It’s not enough to know we won. We must know what makes an athlete want to win, yes?” She looks over her shoulder at me.
“Jessa! You will be on assignment to give us more on the town history. Tell us something filled with intrigue. Everyone loves a scandal!”
I put my hand up.
“Ms. Eversor? Can I be excused to the restroom, please? I’m feeling sick.”
It’s not a lie. My stomach is a huge knot of worry and stress, to the point where I feel like I’m going to throw up from it. I have to find Finn. Now.
She looks concerned. “Let me write you a pass,” she says, heading over to her desk.
I get up and follow her on shaky legs, doing my best to blink back the tears that might betray me.
She finishes signing with a flourish, holding the pass out for me to take, when suddenly, I freeze with my hand extended.
Another memory rears up, the memory of a sequined, gloved hand complete with jangling bangle bracelets, pushing against a polished chrome wall. Bracelets like the ones right in front of me.
That was right before she’d tried her best to kill me.
43
The Other Traveler
I look with dawning horror at the hall pass in my hand. That script. That curling, beautiful script. I saw it on a Post-it note that was placed on an article in a yellowed newspaper—an article that directed me to chase a ghost story that happened on a bridge.
Eversor opens her file drawer to put the notepad with the passes away, and I see her purse sitting inside. Her large brown purse. A large brown purse that’s exactly the same shape and size as the one I tripped over on the roof. And how easy would it have been for her to suggest to Chloe that someone else could fix the lights on the stage if she was afraid of heights?
I am starting to shake, but I manage to fold my hand around the pass and remember to keep on breathing.
“Jessa?” she asks, still smiling that overly concerned smile. “Are you all right?”
“I—I really have to go,” I stammer, keeping my eyes on her the whole time, just waiting for her to spring. She remains as she is, with her smile firmly in place.
“I hope you feel better,” she says. “If you need to go to the nurse, stop back and I’ll escort you there.”
“Thank you. I will.” I edge toward the door, still not entirely sure I’m going to make it.
She smiles placidly, and I say nothing else to tip her off. She’s holding all the cards, or at least the only card I care about: Finn. I suddenly want to hit her right in the face. No wonder she was late to class. She spent her advisory period kidnapping Finn and torturing me.
I give her a nod, hoping she can’t read the wild panic in my eyes. Then I walk calmly out to the hallway. I swear, I can feel her eyes on me, but I’m not going to turn around and betray what I know.
I pass my locker, and I keep on going, with my eyes locked on the door at the end of the hall. I’m not even going to the restroom. I’ll deal with the repercussions later. I have to get out of here.
“St. Clair!”
I turn panicked eyes to Ben, and then my head swivels to look back. Eversor is watching me, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Is she going to kill me? She can’t do that—not here. Not in front of everyone. Can she?
I don’t want Ben in her line of fire, so I deliberately ignore him and keep going.
I get a few more steps before he trots up next to me.
“What’s going on?” He’s looking at me like he’s actually concerned, so I guess my poker face isn’t as good as I thought it was.
“Why are you out in the hall?” I say, forcing a smile and hoping I look something close to normal. I don’t want to glance toward Eversor again.
“I’m going to the library to do some research,” he says.
“I have to go,” I tell him. He reaches out, putting his hand on my arm.
“You’re shaking,” he says, surprised. “What’s the matter?”
“Just walk with me,” I say under my breath. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
I look back over my shoulder again, trying to make it look casual. “She’s not watching anymore. Good.”
“Who?”
“Ms. Eversor.”
“Why would she be?”
“It’s a long story. Keep walking.”
He looks back now, too. “What is going on?”
He’s seriously confused and I don’t blame him, but I don’t have time to talk.
“I have to get out of here. Finn is in danger.”
“Wait—what? Danger?” He stops again and I make an exasperated sound.
“Look, just trust me, all right? Walk.” I give him a push from behind. “Walk fast. Let’s get outside and I’ll explain.”
Of course, I have no idea how I’ll explain this. We’re out the doors, and I pull him to the side, up against the building.
“Do you have your truck here?”
He looks at me blankly. “Yeah. Why? What’s going on, St. Clair? What do you mean, ‘Finn is in danger’?”
“Not just Finn,” I say, gesturing wildly. “But Danny. And Mom. Please, Ben—I know you’re still mad at me but … can you help me?” I’m pleading, but I don’t care. I need his help.
He puts his hands up. “Slow down. Just start at the beginning and—”
“I don’t have time for that!” I explode. “We have to get out of here! Ben, please!”
He’s looking at me like I’m nuts, and I know that’s exactly how I sound, but he finally pulls his keys out of his pocket and points toward his truck.
I run across the parking lot with him close behind, and I clamber into the truck, where I sit on the passenger side panting and looking around wildly.
“Drive, Ben. Just drive.”
The urgency in my voice affects him, and he puts t
he truck in gear, pulling out of the parking lot. He stays away from the center of town, taking us instead to the outskirts, where the local shopping center stands. He pulls into a spot on the far end of a grocery store parking lot, puts the truck in park, and shuts it off.
Then he turns, taking both my hands in his.
“What’s going on, St. Clair? Talk to me.”
I shake my head, not knowing where to begin. “Finn is in trouble. And so am I. And now, so are you.” I press my hands to my cheeks, sucking in a deep breath.
“What kind of trouble?” he asks. “What did he drag you into?”
“I can’t give you all the details, okay? But you have to trust me. Eversor’s got Finn, and she’s using him to get to me. And now, since she’s seen us together, she’ll probably go after you, too.”
“Wait—are we talking about Ms. Eversor? The teacher?”
“She’s not just a teacher. She’s sort of a criminal. And Finn and I found out about it and now she wants us dead.”
“Eversor.” He says it perfectly deadpan, and I realize there’s no way in hell I can make him believe me.
“I know it sounds crazy, Ben. I know it does. But you have to believe me. She’s got Finn, and she wants me. I have to save him.”
He leans back in the seat, rubbing his neck. “Okay. Let’s go see the police.” He starts to turn the keys in the ignition, but I reach out, stopping his hand.
“No. No police. She’ll hurt my mom and Danny if I call them—she made that clear. And she can get away from the police too easy.” I sound completely crazy, I know. “I have to figure something out.”
Ben looks at me strangely. “You really think she kidnapped a student?”
“She wants me to meet her at the bridge in Founder’s Park after school, but I don’t know if she’s holding him there.”
“Jessa—”
I turn to look at him full-on. “Where could she take him—and me—that no one would hear us? Someplace where she could easily arrange an ‘accident’ if she needs to?”
“I don’t—Jessa, this is really … crazy.” He’s struggling for words. “This is crazy,” he repeats.
“I’m not making this up,” I tell him. My mind is whirring, trying to figure out where she could possibly be keeping Finn.
“Wait a minute—she took a picture of my mom and Danny, and it was definitely today because Danny was wearing that same sweatshirt this morning,” I say. “Eversor’s free period is right before my class. I know because sometimes she’s up at the teachers’ lounge and we start class late because she’s not back yet.”
“She took a picture of your mom and Danny?” Ben is sounding alarmed now—I think he’s finally realizing this is serious. He glances down at my phone as I bring the picture up.
“That means she spent her free period over where they work, at Haven House,” I say. “The retirement home is on the west side of town. What’s out that way? Where could she stash him—and take me—that’s close to there?”
“She’s stalking your family?” Ben asks, shaking his head in disbelief. “What the hell is Finn involved in?” He sucks in a breath. “Did she plant that purse? On the roof?”
“Wait—you saw her there?”
“I thought I did. She was wrapped up in a scarf. I was just about to ask you if that was her when you went over the edge. I didn’t think anything of it.”
I show him my phone again. “Eversor sent me video of Finn as proof he was still alive.” Then. The thought creeps into my head and I tamp it down, hard. I push the play button, and Ben watches with me.
“It’s hard to see anything,” Ben says, tilting the screen left and right. “He’s all lit up and it’s dark behind him.”
I study Finn’s face again, wishing I could talk back to those expressive eyes. Tell him it’s going to be okay. Then I notice what he just did. I punch pause, and then pull the video back a second. Yes, there it was. His eyes were locked on the camera, looking right at me, and then all of a sudden they darted down.
She’s only filmed him from the chest up, and I can’t really see what he’s trying to get me to look at, if anything. His hand comes up to his chest, making a pleading gesture as his eyes try to tell me … what?
I let it play to the end again and then I watch it play once more. This time, I keep my eye on that hand. Maybe he’s pointing at something. Maybe he’s—
“He’s giving me a word!” I shout. “He’s signing! She doesn’t know that he can sign!” And now, thanks to my forced assumption of an alternate life, so can I.
I play the video again, and it’s crystal clear. His hand, open, brought up and placed palm-down against his chest. I took it as a sign of entreaty, which she must have done as well. But it’s not.
It’s the sign for a word. Mine.
“Mine,” I say. “Is the mine near there?”
“The old Greaver mine,” Ben says. “The entrance is sealed off, but it would be less than ten minutes from where your mom and Danny work. Right up in the foothills.”
His words bring both panic and elation. Of course. The mine would be perfect. It’s on the outskirts of town, it’s deserted, and no one would think to look for us there.
“But it’s been boarded up for eighty years,” Ben says. “I don’t know how we’ll get in.”
“If she found a way to get in,” I say, “so can I.”
“So can we,” he corrects me, but I stop that train of thought immediately.
“No. No, Ben.” I shake my head emphatically. “She doesn’t know you know anything about this. Go back to school and stay there. I’ll find Finn and then talk to Mario—”
“Mario?” His eyebrows come up.
“He’s sort of like a policeman. He’s after Eversor.”
Ben digests that for a moment. “What have you gotten yourself mixed up in, St. Clair?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I could tell you—and I can’t. The less you know, the better.” I wrap my arms around myself.
“Wait. She’s at school…,” Ben says.
“Yeah?”
“So, if she’s keeping him in the mine, he’s unguarded right now.”
“Unless she’s keeping him somewhere else and moving him later,” I point out. “But you’re right—as far as creepy hideouts go, that’s a good one. Nobody ever goes there, since the collapse shut the mine down. It’s not safe.”
“Then we should go now,” he suggests, “while she’s still playing teacher at school. Don’t wait to go meet her.”
“Ben…”
“I’m not letting you go alone,” he says firmly. “You’re wasting time.”
He looks at me mutinously and I finally relent.
“Maybe we can find him and get him out of there,” I agree. “And if he’s not there, at least we’ve eliminated one place. We’ll keep looking.”
I wish I had time to take a nap and talk to Mario, but I don’t know how I’d possibly explain that to Ben. He’s right, anyway. There’s no time to waste. I have to search for Finn now, while she’s otherwise occupied.
If she hasn’t killed him by now.
The thought wraps around my mind and strangles me, making it hard to breathe. It can’t be true. It can’t. I’d know. I blink hard, but the tears fall anyway.
“We’ll find him.” Ben reaches across and takes my hand again after he starts up the truck and backs out. I stare blindly ahead, barely feeling his hand holding mine, and grateful it’s there.
Hang on, Finn, I think. Just hang on.
44
Like a Knife in My Chest
We make it to the mine in less than fifteen minutes—one of the perks of living in a small town, I guess. We find a place to park behind some trees that’s far enough away not to arouse suspicion, but close enough that we can run for the truck and make it quickly if we have to.
It occurs to me that we have no weapons on us. I don’t know what we’d use, really. Neither of us owns a gun, and it’s not like we can carry a knife into
school. I suppose we could have dropped by one of our houses and grabbed a butcher’s knife or something, but that would have wasted valuable time. Every second is going to count if we’re going to get in and out before Eversor arrives.
“You stay here,” Ben says. “I’ll go inside and look for him. You stay out of sight.”
“Are you crazy?” I look at him incredulously. “You’re not going without me. Besides, I’m the one she wants. If she finds me out here, she’ll just kill me and then sit here and wait for the two of you.”
Ben doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t argue with me, either. He opens up the glove compartment, rummaging around. “Hold on,” he says. “We’re going to need some light.”
He pulls out a small flashlight, and of all things, a pack of glow sticks.
“My mom keeps them in there for when she babysits my nephews,” he says. “The drive from my sister’s house is a long one, and if they’re getting crazy, she just tosses the pack back to them.”
“Well, we can use them. Let’s hope we can find a way in.”
The way in ends up being no obstacle at all. There’s a large section of board that’s simply lying propped against the opening and is easily moved out of the way. Ben shoves it to the side, and we give each other a look.
“That was way too easy,” Ben says.
“Yeah.” I look over my shoulder again, as I’ve been doing constantly since we got here. “Let’s just get in there and get out.”
He steps in first, reaching back to take my hand and pull me through.
“Watch your step,” he warns. “There’s stuff all over the ground here.”
He trains the flashlight on me, and I snap a couple of glow sticks, giving them a shake to make them light up. The mine is pitch-black, and I can hear water dripping somewhere in the distance. It’s chilly already, without the sunlight on our backs.
“Let’s go,” I say, taking the lead. I stop every couple of minutes to listen, and occasionally I hear a scrape or the sound of a pebble scattering along with the water, but it’s all very faint. It’s most likely from whatever animals have made this place their home. I try to remember if bears are native to this area. I sincerely hope not.
