“I get it now. Why the girls chose me. Why they waited all this time for me to come back to Bernier. They knew I would.”
She shifted her gaze to his bewildered expression.
“I’m like them.”
“How?”
“They all died young. Before their time.”
How well she was functioning, how clearly she was speaking; part of her still refused to believe it, clinging to childhood reassurances that bad dreams don’t come true.
“When they looked inside me—that day, in the barn basement—they saw my past. Then they went further, right? They saw my future, Teddy. They know what’s going to happen to me. They practically spelled it out for me in my dream tonight.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“They’ve been waiting for me to come back this summer because they know I’m going to die here.”
Teddy pulled back as if slapped. She got to her knees, still clutching the pillow.
“Maybe they sensed it the first time we biked out there when we were kids, the first time I got close to the house. They knew. That’s why they lured me into the basement that day. To take a closer look.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Crazier than seeing the past? Crazier than a house freezing over in June? This is why I’m different, Teddy—why I’m the key to what’s happening. I can carry those spirit lights inside me because we’re four of a kind. They can show me the past because of—I don’t know, the common thread we share. Never meant to grow up.”
“Jesus, Nat, don’t say that!”
“Why shouldn’t the girls be able to see a person’s fate from beginning to end, if they wanted to? They saw something in my future that they needed. The spirit lights and the dreams were their way of communicating with me while I was out of reach.”
“Stop it. You had another nightmare, that’s all. You’re reading too much into it—”
“You know better.”
He shook his head furiously. “That’s it. You’re not going back to the house again. I won’t let you. What’s the worst it can do, give you more nightmares?” He stared at her. “Quit looking like that! You are not going to die!”
He smacked the alarm clock off the bedside table and it bounced across the floor with a reproachful clang. They both stared at it.
“You think . . . it might be like . . . a trade?” His voice was soft. “Your life for theirs, something like that?”
“Nothing seems impossible anymore. But whatever it is, it’s going to happen soon.”
“I won’t let it.”
“Teddy—”
“No.” He was glaring at her, struggling not to break down.
An odd sort of calm came over her. She knew what she knew. At least she wasn’t alone in it. The girls were there, and always had been. It was her responsibility to reassure him, with a rock in her belly and cold sweat trickling down her back.
“Maybe you’re right. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk about it in the morning.”
Sullen and unspeaking, Teddy claimed the extra blanket and pillow and made his bed on the floor, where she listened to him toss and turn, ensuring that nothing came creeping in through her darkened door. In time, he surrendered to sleep.
When Natalie’s spirit lights emerged before dawn to explore the room and its occupants, neither of them woke.
CHAPTER 31
It was as if, eons ago, the weather gods had decreed that henceforth every Fourth of July would be drizzly, humid, and hardly fit for fireworks—in Maine, anyway. Natalie wasn’t surprised to see raindrops clinging to the window screens when she awoke the next morning.
Teddy was gone. She heard sounds of breakfast being made in the kitchen, the coffeemaker burbling. Natalie yanked the sheet over her head and lay there, eyes closed, breathing shallowly.
Too much like being inside a casket.
She got up, showered, and dressed, packing her few remaining belongings for Dad’s arrival tomorrow. Then she went out to the kitchen to join her family. She couldn’t hide from whatever was waiting for her, and wasn’t it just possible that Teddy was right—that she’d misinterpreted the girls’ dream message? Wouldn’t it be ludicrous to hide at home, acting like Chicken Little waiting for the sky to fall?
Her reflection looked grimly back at her from the mirror, unconvinced.
There were hollows under Teddy’s eyes, and Cilla fussed over him, feeling his forehead for fever. Every time his gaze met Natalie’s, the knowledge was there between them, and he almost seemed to flinch away from her. He left for the Grill on his bike with hardly a word to either of them.
Cilla went out on the porch and watched him disappear down the street, her hands on her hips.
Natalie spent the day with her aunt, playing Scrabble, reading in the yard, making lunch. At noon, the pounding of a brass band echoed up from Main Street, distant sounds of the Independence Day parade. A strong feeling of unreality persisted, a sensation of time rolling faster and faster. Natalie didn’t believe she could slow it down if she tried.
Dusk fell swiftly, like someone dimming a lamp. She sat on the porch swing and waited for Lowell. He parked along the curb and came up the steps, taking his hat off.
“You look pretty.”
“I do?” She looked down at her usual T-shirt and shorts.
“Always.” He touched her cheek. “You okay?”
Instead of answering, she put her arms around him and kissed him. It was sudden, but neither of them let go for some time. She felt cheated. Was it possible to mourn for a romance that never really got started?
She slipped free. “Let me tell Cilla we’re going now.”
She went into the kitchen and hugged her aunt from behind, who, surprised, hugged her back. Cilla was packing the old wicker picnic basket.
“You and Lowell can ride with me, all right? I want to keep track of everybody tonight. And if you see Jason, steer right clear, understand?”
“You know that Teddy is catching a ride over from the Grill with Delia, right?”
Cilla glanced up. “Well. You could knock me over with a feather. A month ago, he’d have turned bright red if I even said her name.”
The park was overflowing with people toting blankets and lawn chairs, the PA system on the bandstand cranking out a local country station. Hamburgers and hot dogs were cooking, and kids were running around in packs, shrieking and swirling sparklers through the smoky air.
As Natalie followed Lowell across the green, she noticed Grace, sitting alone on one of the boulders along the edge of the parking lot. People flowed around her without seeming to see her at all. She was picking at a scab on her knee, but then she looked up, watching Natalie from beneath her brows. Natalie tucked her arm through Lowell’s and turned away, glad when she could no longer feel the girl’s gaze on her back.
Cilla picked a good spot, and they set up camp.
“Hi!” Delia said, appearing in the crowd, followed by Teddy. They sat down on the blanket. “I’m so bummed. I can’t believe you’re leaving me tomorrow.” Delia bonked her head on Natalie’s shoulder. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Start making Bess a friendship bracelet?”
Delia elbowed Teddy. “She’s running off to enjoy her summer. You and I are stuck back here in the salt mines.”
“I beg your pardon,” Cilla said, passing out sodas.
“Hey. I’m not laughing.” Natalie plucked at the blanket. “I’m going to miss you guys like crazy.” She didn’t return Teddy’s gaze right then because she knew she’d only start crying. She didn’t want their last day to be like that.
The next hour could’ve been a snapshot from Natalie’s childhood: the scratchy recording of the National Anthem blaring across the park, the fireworks booming overhead, the crowd cheering. For a time, Natalie cleared her mind of everything but th
e feeling of Lowell’s arm around her, the showers of color in the night sky, and the belief that everything was okay, okay, okay.
The applause ended, and everyone started packing up.
“Can we ride with Delia?” Natalie asked. She saw her aunt’s concern. “Just so we can say good-bye. We’ll be right behind you.”
“Well . . . okay. Be safe,” Cilla said, glancing back a few times as if to be sure they weren’t planning on lingering.
They got on their way, the moon hanging full and fat above. The radio droned a lullaby. Delia took the usual back roads. There were no streetlights, only the very occasional glimmer of lit houses through the trees.
They were coasting downhill when a parked pickup truck emerged from the darkness, stretched sideways across the lane. Delia swore and cut the wheel hard to the right, the passenger-side tires thunking into the ditch.
Delia managed to stop, slammed the car into park, and got out. “What the hell?”
They all walked over to the truck. The cab was empty.
The knot of tension that had been tightening inside Natalie seemed to snap, leaving her feeling weightless and untethered. Distantly, she thought, Oh God. Here it comes.
There was a rushing of footsteps from the woods—a shout—and then two shadows spilled through the trees onto the grass.
Natalie cried out as a Maglite shone directly into her eyes. Through the aura of light, she recognized them, too. Jason, holding the light. Grace, holding a gun.
Grace came around and kicked Teddy in the back of the knee, making him fall. She caught his shirt and propped her foot against his lower back, pressing the muzzle of the handgun to the back of Teddy’s head.
“Okay.” Her gaze leveled on Natalie. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 32
Jason moved his pickup out of the road, and now it sat facing them, headlights burning. The radio played something howling and heavy.
Jason took a hunting rifle from the rack and rested it against his shoulder. The night seemed to have shrunk, as if there was nothing beyond this roadside and the six of them.
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he said to them, pacing unsteadily; he looked drunk, out of it. “You’re going to get in the back of the truck. Grace is riding with you. You try to bail out, she’ll shoot you. You scream or come at her, she’ll shoot you.”
Lowell’s face was washed white in the strange light. “Are you guys crazy? Put the guns away!”
“Aw, shit, did I forget to tell you? We”—he gestured to Grace—“got a reunion planned. Eighth-grade reunion, right here, tonight. Us five are the only ones who got invites, and Dee wasn’t even around back then, but hey. What do you want on short notice?” He watched Grace, who was still breathing on Teddy, gun trained. “Back off, babe,” he said softly.
Grace shook her sweaty hair out of her face, her expression one of belligerent anguish, eyes swollen from liquor and tears. Natalie knew the gun in Grace’s hand, recognized it. Whispering to herself, Grace stepped away from Teddy, who sagged.
Lowell’s fists were clenched. He looked like he was barely restraining himself from rushing Jason. “You really did it. You walked away from Peter when he was dying. You took the gun, and you left him there. Why?”
Jason threw the rifle butt against his shoulder and pretended to fire with a ppppow! sound, making them all cringe. He laughed, shrill and cracked. “Damn, you guys are jumpy.” He waved them toward the truck bed. “Go on. Move it. It’s reunion time.”
“I’m not doing anything else you say, you psycho,” Delia said quietly. “So whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work. Let us go home.”
Grace came up behind Delia and shoved her so hard she stumbled.
“Stop it!” Teddy shouted.
Grace shoved again, and Delia wheeled on her. Teddy got between them before they could clash again, blocking Delia with his body as Grace lifted the gun to the level of his chest. He stared, eyes huge, breath hitching, and didn’t move.
“Okay!” Natalie put her hands up. “Okay, we’re all going. Come on, you guys.”
Her vision pulsed with black spots as she climbed into the bed of the truck, flattening herself back against the frame as Grace got in beside her, holding the Browning Hi-Power casually, like an extension of her body.
Grace wore the same clothes she’d had on at the Grill the other day, a black camisole and running shorts, the outfit rumpled and dirty, as if she’d been sleeping in it. She smelled none too fresh, either.
Natalie shut her eyes, remembering sneakers crunching through the undergrowth, hearing Peter’s voice echoing in these woods. You’ve had it the whole time—come on.
Was this what the house had seen in Natalie’s future? A truck, a gun—a shot?
A pit of dread yawned inside of her, and she pressed her hand over her mouth, crying silently, not caring if Grace saw. The other girl only watched her with numb fascination, her hair spiking around her face in a sort of fairy’s cap. There was dried spittle at the corner of her mouth.
They took a logging road through the trees that hadn’t been used in years. Occasionally, the tires lost traction and it seemed they might get stuck—they all waited tensely then, exchanging looks—but Jason backed and filled and kept on going, deeper into the woods, bumping over ruts and washouts.
At last, they stopped. They got out and walked the rest of the way, single file, Grace occasionally jabbing Lowell in the back with her gun.
Lowell jerked around. “You want to keep that thing away from me?”
“Be quiet,” Teddy muttered.
“Screw that. You for real with this, Grace? What the hell’s going on? Why are you helping him?”
She wouldn’t answer, only stared morosely back.
“Are you hearing me? What’re you guys on?”
“Lowell, bud,” Jason said from behind them, raising his rifle again, “if I were you, I’d shut up. Right now.”
Natalie didn’t need to be told when they reached the clearing off Pemaquid Road. Even after all these years, her senses revolted against the smell of moldering pine needles. By the glow of the flashlight, they stopped beneath the tree where Teddy had once read My Brother Sam Is Dead.
Delia turned on Jason. “Why are you doing this?”
Jason shrugged, his gaze roving. “We got to finish it, don’t we? Wrap it up in a bow. Make it pretty.” His pupils were black moons. Lowell was right: He and Grace had done more than just drink tonight.
Teddy spoke, his voice trembling. “You got what you wanted—we’re scared, all right? Now let us go.”
“Can’t do that. Don’t blame us. Blame your cousin.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t’ve come back, Miss Nat-a-lie. Everybody was happier before you did.”
He walked a few feet away, speaking up into the canopy of leaves overhead.
“What did I say that day, when we came up on you two hiding out here?”
He walked over and played the rifle under Teddy’s chin, watching as he tried to pull back. “You got a big mouth. Bet I could fit this right in there—”
“Don’t touch him!” Natalie lunged for Jason. Grace locked her arms behind her. Natalie thrashed in her grip, not caring that her shoulders felt like they were being wrenched from their sockets. “Get off me!”
“Yeah! Perfect!” Jason laughed. “That’s almost exactly right. All we need now is Peter to laugh like an idiot.”
“You’re trashing Peter?” Lowell sounded hoarse. “That kid thought you were God. All he wanted was to be like you. He ask you to help him while he was lying there bleeding, Jase? He beg you?”
Delia reached for Lowell, but he kept on.
“You let my life get shit-canned right along with yours. The least you can do is tell me why.”
Jason looked at him, mouth slightly ajar, eyes hooded. Then he turned to Grace.
“I want them on their knees. Like we talked about.”
Grace pushed Natalie down, then the others.
Delia swore and started crying, and Teddy bent his head close to hers, squeezing his eyes shut.
When Grace got to Lowell, he pulled away from her. “No.”
“Lowell, just do it!” Teddy said.
“You’re gonna have to shoot me, Grace. You really want to do that for him?” He pointed to Jason. “Huh? Kill somebody? He’s laughing at you.”
Lowell put his hands up, stepping away. “I’m taking these guys and we’re leaving. It ends here.”
“You’re right,” Grace said. “It does.” She fired.
Everyone screamed. The shot was still echoing as Natalie crawled across the ground, reaching out to Lowell where he crouched, shielding his head. He squeezed her hand back: I’m okay.
“Everybody understand how it’s gonna be now?” Grace’s roar was huge, bigger than the gunshot. The bullet had gone into the ground inches from where Lowell had stood.
“Everybody see what’s happening here? Nobody’s screwing with me tonight.”
Natalie looked up at Jason. The expression on his face terrified her more than anything that had happened so far.
Jason stood there staring at his girlfriend like she was a stranger, like she’d startled him out of his drugged bravado. His rifle sagged nearly down to the dirt. “Whoooaaa, killer.” He gave a splintery chuckle. “We’re having fun here. Remember.”
“Don’t call me that,” Grace whispered.
“Babe. Chill, okay? I got this.”
Grace paid him no mind, eyes unfocused as they drifted over Natalie’s face. “Why didn’t you tell?” She sounded like a child, faint and querulous.
“Grace.” Jason shifted. “Don’t go too far, now. Listen to me.”
Her shoulders were hunched, muscles coiled. She reached down and grabbed the front of Natalie’s shirt. “Why didn’t you tell?”
In the ringing, paralyzed moment that followed, Natalie managed to say, “What?”
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