by Skye Malone
Grimacing, I looked to the coast. She and I both knew that where Dad was concerned, that wasn’t the point.
She shifted around uncomfortably. “Did you at least get to do anything fun while you were out looking for me?” she asked, clearly trying for a peace offering. “Meet some surfer girls or…”
She trailed off hopefully.
I gave her a dry look. “Not exactly.”
Her eyebrow rose. My mouth tightened.
“Were you out oceanwise last night? Maybe two hours after sunset?”
She nodded. “Luke and I both were.” She glanced to one of the muscle-bound surfers standing near the trees and then grinned at me. “For a human, he’s pretty decent in the water.”
I ignored the comment. I knew she was smart enough not to lose control and take things too far with a human, no matter how much Dad worried she would. “You feel anything strange happen around that time?”
Her brow furrowed. “You know, now that you mention it, there was something that felt kind of odd. It went away pretty quick though.”
“I found what it was.”
She waited.
“There was a girl. Dehaian, but staying with a bunch of humans in that white mansion by the park. I saw her on the beach last night and when she touched her feet to the water…”
Ina looked at me like I was joking. “No way.”
“Seriously.”
“It had to be a coincidence.”
“It stopped the minute she went back to shore.”
Ina’s brow rose.
“There’s something weird about this girl. You hear someone screaming earlier today? Dehaian, I mean.”
She shook her head. “We were in a surf shop downtown.”
“The waves attacked her, Ina. I was there. I saw it. The latter part, at least. It was creepy as hell, and when I came closer, it just went away.”
“She see you?”
“Yeah. She seems afraid of me, though. She spotted me just a little bit ago and looked terrified.”
“And you’re sure–” Ina glanced back at the guys under the tree and lowered her voice, “you’re sure she’s dehaian?”
I nodded.
“Huh.” She thought for a second. “You want me to try talking to her? Maybe she’s just scared of guys or something.”
“A man and woman just came to the house where she’d been staying and took her away in a car.”
“A car.”
I nodded again.
“She was staying in a house and they took her away in a car,” Ina repeated.
“Yep.”
“Okay, yeah, that is weird. I mean, weirder. Or…” She shook her head.
Silence fell between us for a moment.
“You going to head home now?” she asked me.
I hesitated.
A grin twitched her lip. “You want to figure this out, don’t you?”
“The girl electrocuted the ocean by stepping into it, Ina.”
Her grin broadened. “So what are you going to do?”
“What can I do? She’s gone, and from the way those people drove out of here, I doubt they’re thinking of coming back.”
“You don’t know that.”
I looked away. This was true.
“Hang around a few days,” Ina suggested. “See if she shows up somewhere nearby. If she’s really dehaian, it’s not like she’ll be able to stay out of the ocean forever, and if she does stuff like that every time she’s in the water…”
I grimaced.
“Oh, come on,” she teased, “you know you want to.”
I didn’t answer.
“Zeke…”
I sighed. “A few days. And what’re you going to do?”
She grinned.
“Ina…”
“Okay, fine. I’ll go home. Just let me say goodbye to Luke.”
I glared as her expression took on an impish tinge.
“I’ll be back in Nyciena by morning,” she assured me, still grinning.
“Tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, tomorrow morning.”
I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop my mouth from twitching as well.
“So this girl…” Ina prompted. “She cute?”
I made an exasperated noise. This wasn’t about that. The girl electrocuted the ocean. Yes, she was attractive. She was damn near gorgeous when she wasn’t staring at me like I was a two-headed shark. But she was also a total unknown and, again, she electrocuted the ocean. I needed to find answers to that before I let myself get caught up in anything else.
“Oh, come on!” Ina protested at my silence. “Since when are you so uptight?”
My grimace returned. “Yes, she’s cute,” I admitted. “Cream-scaled, by the look of it. Reddish hair. Green eyes.”
“Sexy.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Damn straight.”
I chuckled, shaking my head again.
She smiled and took my hand. “Take care of yourself and I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”
“Okay.”
She gave my hand a squeeze and then turned, jogging back to the surfers. Muscle-bound Luke slid an arm around her the moment she came close, and tossed me a warning look for good measure.
I tried not to scoff. He really had no idea how much trouble he’d be in if he tried to push things with Ina. And that was just from her.
Giving them a wide berth, I walked back toward the water. Hanging around a few days wouldn’t be hard. I just hoped the girl would come back soon, because Ina was right.
I’d hate to leave with this still a mystery.
Chapter Seven
Chloe
Dad drove on long after the sun had set, tracing a winding path through the mountains and the Mojave desert and then onto the interstate through Nevada. Las Vegas swept by, radioactive in the darkness, and sometime after that came Utah.
And beyond brief pauses for gas, he didn’t stop.
Mom hadn’t said a word to me since we left Santa Lucina, and Dad only occasionally looked back at me in the rearview mirror. I’d taken to ignoring them both, and eventually just pillowed my head on my bag and stared out the window. The white-noise drone of the tires lulled me, pulling my eyes closed as the hours crept along, until I finally drifted off to sleep.
The first thing I saw was water.
I wanted to flail, to scream as I plummeted into it, but the ocean just closed over my head, swallowing the sky and the clouds. Water engulfed me as an invisible force propelled me down, driving me onward till the sea surrounded me completely.
And then it slowed. Stopped. Spreading my arms, I hovered in the water, at a loss to know how deep I’d fallen. The current wrapped around me then, and my skin tingled as it carried me gently through the endless blue twilight.
But I wasn’t frightened anymore.
I paused, struck by the realization. The fear I’d felt at first hitting the water had vanished, and now I just knew I was safe. Even under the water, even without any air, I wasn’t in any danger at all.
Because I belonged there.
Confusion filled me at the thought, which was impossible and yet true.
I was where I was supposed to be.
On the heels of that understanding came hurt. An ache in my chest that didn’t seem to want to go away. I was where I was supposed to be, yet I wasn’t. I was leaving, even as I floated in the infinite deep, because this wasn’t reality.
This was just a dream.
My eyes opened. The world was dark. The only light came from the pale orange-red glow of the dash and the twin beams of the headlights on the empty stretch of road. Dad was still driving, while in the passenger seat, Mom slept with her head pillowed on her curled arm.
Air escaped me. Tears stung my eyes and in my chest, I could still feel an ache like someone had stabbed me in my sleep, and everything I had was bleeding out through the wound. My body was tense, and as I twisted in the seat to look out the rear window, I felt like i
nvisible threads extended from my skin, over the mountains all the way to the sea, each of them growing thinner and weaker the farther Dad drove.
And if they snapped, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.
Swallowing, I turned back to the front, and my hands wrapped around my elbows to hug my middle. It was ridiculous, getting so upset over a dream. But it had felt so real, and the sense of the water around me had seemed so right…
So beautifully, wonderfully right…
In my chest, the ache grew worse and I bit my lip, trying to keep myself together. I needed to go back. Not because my parents were moving, or because I’d always wanted to visit the ocean. But because I had to.
The alternative made me feel like screaming.
I looked at Dad, willing him to stop. He and Mom seemed committed to driving back to Reidsburg at top speed, and given the time on the dashboard clock, they didn’t intend to stop at all.
But I couldn’t handle that. I needed to leave.
And Dad just kept driving.
Minutes trickled by, while the miles stretched like rubber bands on the verge of breaking. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
And then the lights of a city came into view. Barely holding back a gasp, I glanced to Dad again.
Reaching over, he nudged Mom. With a sharp breath, she woke, and then a grimace twisted her face and she gave an uncomfortable groan.
“Drive?” he asked, his voice strangely tight.
Mom swallowed, and then she shook her head. “Not doing well,” she murmured. “Medicine wearing off. I… I can watch.”
My brow furrowed, but he just nodded and kept driving while Mom leaned back against the window again. The highway continued on through the sleeping town, and our car followed it.
I wanted to cry.
And then, at the final exit, he steered the car onto the off-ramp.
Relief hit me and I gasped with the force of it. Turning at a lonely stoplight at the end of the exit ramp, he sent the sedan toward a tiny building nearly lost in the darkness. A red vacancy sign glowed beneath the dim and flickering letters of the word ‘Motel’, the only indication of the place’s identity. By the front door, he pulled to a stop and then climbed out.
I looked at Mom and then at the darkness around us. I could run. Just make a break for it right now. I knew she wasn’t feeling well, and honestly, taking advantage of that was probably a crappy thing to do to my own mother. But I really, really needed to leave.
Dad returned, a room key in his hand. Getting back in, he glanced to Mom and then started the car again. By the last door in the row of narrow, brown doors, he pulled over. Only three other cars shared the dark parking lot with us, and above the sidewalk running alongside the motel, half of the rusting light fixtures were missing bulbs.
I couldn’t believe they were stopping here.
Without bothering to get out any bags, Dad left the car and headed for the room, while Mom just took a deep breath and then shoved the door open. Bracing herself on the car roof, she paused and looked back at me.
“Come on,” she ordered.
I took my backpack and got out. Waving a hand at the door, she waited for me to go ahead of her, never taking her eyes off me.
Fighting back a grimace, I went.
The room was dank, that was the first impression. And beyond that, it didn’t get much better. Thin comforters in faded Southwestern patterns covered the two queen-sized beds, and a boxy television sat on a wooden table so chipped and scratched, it looked a heartbeat from collapsing into matchsticks. A salmon-colored lamp stood on the nightstand between the two beds, along with an alarm clock blinking the wrong time. At the far end of the room, a mirror hung over the sink, reflecting the hideous space back at us, while a door waited beside it, giving access to what I could only assume was the bathroom.
Mom shut the door behind me, and then walked to the bed and sat down with a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. Dad emerged from the bathroom, not looking much better than her. Tiredly, he took the chair from the corner and dragged it over by the door.
“You sure?” he asked Mom.
She nodded, pushing away from the bed and crossing to the chair, where she sat down. Dad scrubbed his hand across his face and then started toward the bed, when he caught sight of me staring at them both.
He hesitated. “There might be thieves,” he told me, a note of discomfort in his voice.
I rolled my eyes. They’d never been this paranoid when we’d stayed at any of the spots they chose for vacations. But now, Mom was squarely between me and the door, and both she and Dad were watching me like hawks.
Though given how much I wanted to race out the door right then…
But that wasn’t the point. They were standing watch on me, for goodness sake, and claiming it was because there might be thieves.
Would it have killed them to just tell the truth?
“Why are we here?” I asked, not bothering to keep the disgust from my voice.
“Because it’s cheap and we’re not staying long,” Dad responded, his tone harder. Leaving Mom by the door, he took my backpack from me and set it on the bed farthest from the exit. “So get some sleep. We’re leaving at sunrise.”
He regarded me, waiting. I crossed the room and snagged my backpack from the bed. Eyeing them, I walked into the bathroom.
I could hear them begin talking the moment I closed the door, though their voices were too low for me to make out the words. But they sounded agitated.
A scowl twisted my face. Still holding my bag, I leaned back against the door.
How was I going to get out of here?
I closed my eyes. My chest ached with my distance from where I knew I had to be, and even without any windows to help me get my bearings, I felt like I could lift my hand to point and know I was aiming directly at the closest part of the ocean.
Which was nuts.
But no more so than the rest of this.
I let out a breath and looked down. If I didn’t put on my pajamas, they’d know I meant to leave as soon as possible – though, honestly, they were probably aware of that anyway. They were watching the door.
Rolling my head to the side, I looked in the direction of the motel room. Did they know about this? About how I was feeling? Was that why they were acting even more freakish than usual?
The ache grew. But if they knew, they’d understand. They’d get why I needed to go back. They’d support me.
Unless there was something truly horrible out there…
I pushed the thought away. I knew what I’d felt when I’d fallen off the boat. What I’d felt in that dream. I’d been safe. Under the water… but safe.
And now I just needed to go back.
I glanced down at the bag again. Pajamas would slow me down. Mean I had to change clothes before I left.
But again, I couldn’t give them more of a tip-off to my plans than they already had.
Feeling sick, I drew out my pajamas. With a deep breath to steady me, I forced myself to get dressed for bed.
They were watching the bathroom when I came back out.
“Goodnight,” I told them flatly.
They echoed the word, their voices cautious. Ignoring them, I pulled back the thin comforter and the vaguely humid-feeling sheets, and then climbed beneath them.
Dad got into the other bed. Leaning over, he switched off the bedside lamp.
Darkness swallowed the room. By the door, Mom shifted around on the chair, resulting in a faint metallic squeak.
And then everything was still.
Loss and distance pressing on my chest till it hurt to breathe, I closed my eyes and tried not to sob.
~~~~~
“You think she’s… you know?”
The whisper cut through the water surrounding me, pulling me away from the deep and the calm. My brow furrowed as I tried to hang onto the dream.
It didn’t do any good. The ocean faded. The cloying sheets of the motel bed returned.
“
I’m not sure,” Dad replied, his voice quiet.
Mom made a worried noise. “We need to get going.”
“What about you? Are you any better?”
“No.” Annoyance mixed with the worry in her tone. “It was too long.” She paused. “You?”
Dad didn’t answer.
“Bill?” she pressed.
“I’m okay.” The bed rustled as he rose, and then the springs gave a sharp squeak. It sounded like he’d sat back down.
“No, you’re not,” Mom countered.
He made a shushing noise. I kept my eyes closed and focused on making my breathing as even as possible.
“I can still drive,” he insisted quietly. “Linda, I mean it. I’ll get us home.”
Mom didn’t say anything. A moment passed. The front door opened and then closed.
She sighed and got up, the chair giving the same metallic complaints as she moved.
“Chloe?” she called.
I opened my eyes. Standing by the foot of the bed, she was watching me.
She looked pale. Drained. And she was studying my face like she was searching for something.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you doing okay?” She almost sounded concerned.
“Fine.”
She paused. “We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart.”
I didn’t say anything.
For a heartbeat longer, she hesitated, and then she returned to her chair.
My brow furrowed. “You alright?”
“I’m fine. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
She closed her eyes and drew a breath as though she was fighting off nausea.
“Mom?”
“You heard me.”
I paused. Not taking my eyes from her, I reached into my bag and got out my jeans. Beneath the covers, I pulled them on and then grabbed my shirt, doing the same.
She exhaled sharply.
“Mom, you don’t seem–”
Rising to her feet, she bolted toward the bathroom. I stared after her, and then winced at the sound of retching coming past the door. Feeling vaguely sick myself, I turned my face to the rest of the motel room.
