It’s enough: She breaks free of the thickness that was holding her back. The rain pounds down around her, but she can breathe more easily, and she doesn’t feel so heavy. She’s close enough to see Claire clearly inside.
Julie! Claire pounds on the window. Her mouth shapes Julie’s name but Julie still only hears her voice in the rain. Help! Help me!
“I’m trying!” Julie rushes up to the door and grabs the handle. But the light sparks and shocks her and sends her stuttering back across the sand. Her head rings.
Eeee!
“I’m fine,” she chokes out. She clambers up to her feet, coughing.
“I can’t let you do that!”
Lawrence. Julie turns around, her muscles aching, and sees him lurching forward, still trapped in the membrane. His face is warped and strange in the light of the storm. His features almost look like Audrey’s.
“Dammit!” she shouts. If he breaks through that membrane he’s going to try to stop her.
Rainwater spills into her mouth, and the tide tugs on her each time it sucks back out into the Gulf. Claire stares at Julie through the window, her face ghostly in the pale light. Julie takes a deep breath.
There has to be some way of getting Claire out. After all, Javier saved Abigail from that shack. It’s the same thing. They can reenact the timeline, set it back into place—ensure that the past remains unchanged, that Javier can go on to write the treaties, that the monsters can live alongside humans.
That their world is kept in place. And in peace.
Julie glances back at Lawrence. He howls something unintelligible at her, and then slams forward onto his knees in the storm surge, his cape floating out behind him.
“Stop moving!” she yells at him.
She splashes over to the back of the car. Claire follows her, pressing her hands against the windows. Her eyes are wide and bright with fear, and her mouth keeps moving, but Julie can only catch bits and pieces of what she says in the rush of the rain.
Trapped—Audrey drove—locked—inside—help!
“I’m trying!” Julie shouts. Her voice is ragged and she isn’t sure if the water on her cheeks is from the rain or from tears.
She has no idea what to do.
She comes over to the driver’s-side door and tries to open it again. This time, she braces herself for the light to shock her, and when it comes, rippling through her spine, at least she doesn’t go stumbling over the sand.
Claire appears in the window, shaking her head.
“No?” Julie says. “What am I supposed to do? How do I get you out?”
Claire keeps shaking her head, and her mouth moves, and Julie hears I don’t know.
A wave surges across the beach, the water splashing up around Julie’s knees. She screams and falls forward and both her hands hit the car. The light sends shock waves running through her body, and she flies backward, landing on her back in the freezing seawater. She stares up at the sky, cracked and fragmented.
And she knows that the past is changing already. The treaties are dissolving. It’s the end of her town.
The water surges, rushing over her. Something hits her hard on the side of her head. She sits up, gasping—it’s Lawrence’s cane. She grabs it.
“Julie! Stop this right now!” Lawrence’s fingers claw through the air, leaving shreds of opalescent light in their wake. “Audrey says to stop you!”
The membrane. He’s tearing through.
“Stay there!” Julie shouts.
“I’m ordering you to stop!” His face distorts with anger as the membrane rips around him. It’s dissolving like the treaties, and she has to act fast.
Julie plunges forward toward the car, the cane’s polished wood slippery in her grip. Claire stares out the window at her, and Julie remembers the first time she saw her, how scared she’d been of the monster in her grandmother’s yard. The monster who was just trying to warn them.
“Julie! If you don’t stop immediately I’m going to arrest you!” Lawrence’s voice is distorted—doubled, as if Audrey’s words are lurking behind his.
Julie squeezes the cane. The one weapon she has. Her one chance.
“I’m coming, Claire,” she whispers, and then she pulls the cane back.
When the cane hits the glass it echoes like a gunshot. The sound tears through the storm, shining like lightning.
The light surrounding the car flares, bright as the sun, momentarily illuminating the water crashing along the beach. Aftershocks shoot up Julie’s arm, jolts of searing, sizzling pain.
But the glass on the window is cracked.
Julie screams through her pain to swing the cane a second time. The crack deepens.
“Julie! It’s working!”
It’s Claire’s voice, her actual voice. Julie’s arms feel as if they’re being crushed, but she lifts the cane a third time, swinging it with all of her strength.
The glass shatters.
She screams half in joy and half in disbelief, and drops the cane into the churning seawater, rushing forward. Claire’s head appears. Not as a shadow, but as herself.
The back windshield is gone save for a ring of glass in the frame, spiderwebbed with tiny fractures. Claire peers out through this hole, gazing around in horror, her eyes wide with fear.
When she sees Julie, there’s a moment like lightning, when everything falls into place.
“Julie,” she gasps. “I thought I was going to die.”
“I wasn’t going to let that happen,” Julie says. She holds out her hand. “We have to get out of here.”
Shaking, Claire takes her hand, her touch a balm against the pain still reverberating through Julie’s bones. She keeps her eyes fixed on Julie, her makeup streaked. She’s wearing Abigail’s dress, the gray silk turned black with rain, and as she climbs out of the car it catches on a piece of jagged glass and rips.
Then Claire’s free, standing in the warm, frothy water with Julie. She’s bleeding from a few places on her face, nothing major, and Julie tries to wipe the blood away. Claire catches her hand and smiles up at her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
Julie smiles back. Her heart is heavy with love—yes, she’s certain of it, love. She reaches to smooth back a piece of hair that sticks to the side of Claire’s forehead. The rain pounds around them both, and the water levels rise, and Claire wraps her arms around Julie’s shoulders and kisses her.
The world falls away. Claire’s kiss is shy, a little awkward, a little hesitant, but it’s there, it’s perfect, and Julie kisses back and her head swims and she thinks that she can drown right now in the ocean and everything will be okay.
“Julie!”
Lawrence’s shout drags Julie back into the real world. She whips herself around, positioning her body in front of Claire’s. She can feel Claire trembling against her.
“Back off,” she says. “I’m serious. Arrest me if you want, I’m not letting you—”
“What are the hell are you doing?” Lawrence sways and stumbles, water splashing up around him. He staggers, his hair hanging in his eyes, that stupid cloak sloshing up around him.
“What the hell are we doing out here?” he screams.
And that’s when Julie sees it. The rage in his face is gone. He looks exhausted and pale and terrified. His gaze sweeps around, taking in the car, the roaring ocean, the flooded beach.
And then his eyes settle on Claire, and a dark dawning realization crawls across his features.
“Oh my God,” he says. “Audrey—” He reaches out to Julie. “She did something to me—”
“You were going to let me drown!” Claire shouts.
“I know.” His face crumples. Is he crying? Julie can’t tell, not with the rain streaming over them. “I know. I’m so sorry. Audrey—”
“Audrey did something to you,” Julie says flatly. She looks back at Claire, who squeezes her arm again. “It’s gone. I can tell. He’s different.”
“Yes.” Lawrence’s voice is ragged. “She d
id, she—I’m sorry, Claire.” He splashes toward them. “I’m so sorry.”
The water has risen almost to Julie’s thighs. The undertow is more forceful now, trying to pull her out to sea. “We need to get past the seawall,” she says, more to Claire than to Lawrence. “Him too. I really do think he’s okay.”
“I think he is too,” Claire says softly.
“Come on,” Julie says. “Time to peace out!”
She wraps her arm around Claire’s waist and guides her forward. The weird lightning has disappeared out of the sky, and the glow is starting to diminish from the car. Reality doesn’t feel so shaky anymore.
The undertow sucks at Julie’s legs. She and Claire barely seem to be moving forward.
And then Claire tumbles and lands face-first in the water.
“No!” Julie shrieks as Claire is dragged past her, out toward the open ocean, her dress a streak of silver beneath the dark waves. Julie whirls around just in time to see Lawrence catch Claire and pull her up. She gasps and sputters, spitting out arcs of seawater.
“I’m not letting either of you drown now!” he shouts, sounding more like his old self. “Julie’s right! Let’s get to the dunes!”
Julie splashes over to them, digging her feet into the sand to keep her balance. Claire sucks in deep breaths of air and gives Julie a brave smile. Her hair is plastered to the side of her face, and her dress sticks to her legs.
“Yeah!” Claire shouts, over the rushing tide. “I want out of this water!”
“Grab on to me!” Lawrence gestures at Julie. “We’re fighting against the current here!”
Julie loops her arm into Lawrence’s, and the three of them plunge forward through the water.
The waves splash up around them, and Julie’s feet slip once, and she crashes into Lawrence—but he and Claire have her by the arms, and they yank her back up to standing.
Together they form a chain strong enough to beat back the undertow.
When they finally make it to the shallows, Julie peels away from Lawrence and grabs Claire and squeezes her tight.
“Thank you for saving my life,” Claire says breathlessly.
“What else was I going to do?” Julie smiles.
Together, they splash through the water up to the dunes as the tide recedes. The rain has slackened, and it doesn’t have the terrifying ferocity of a hurricane anymore.
It’s just a summertime rainstorm.
“Thank God.” Lawrence looks at Claire and Julie in turn. “You’re both okay?” He shakes his head. “I’m just so sorry, Claire, I don’t…” He stops, looks out at the ocean. “What was she?”
The water laps at the sand a few feet away from them, shimmering like static from the raindrops. Julie knows the danger has passed. Something could have happened, but it didn’t.
She stopped it.
“It’s a long story,” Julie says. “Hell, I’m not sure I even know.”
Lawrence frowns, then begins making his way toward the street. But Claire and Julie stay standing side by side, the water falling around them soft and gentle. The light is gone from the car now: It sits half-submerged in gray water, waves crashing around it.
Claire squeezes Julie’s hand. Julie looks over at her, and Claire is smiling, her eyes shining.
“It seems like it shouldn’t be real,” she says.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Julie asks.
Claire shrugs. She looks down at her feet, her hair falling in her eyes. Julie leans over and kisses her on the cheek.
Of course it’s real.
Everything is safe.
CHAPTER
Twenty
CLAIRE
Kissing Julie is like waking up from a nightmare. The horror of being locked in the car, watching the Gulf draw closer and closer, drains away. Claire grabs both of Julie’s hands and holds them tight.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for saving me.”
Julie shrugs. Then she grins. “My pleasure.”
Claire laughs. She throws her arms around Julie’s neck and kisses her again. She doesn’t care about the rain pounding around them, about the water sloshing up to the dunes, about Lawrence. All summer Claire has been working through her own confusion to come to this point, to this kiss. She used to want to kiss Josh, now she wants to kiss Julie. She can like both.
Lawrence coughs.
“This beach is still going to flood!” he shouts over the roar of the rain. “We need to get to higher ground.”
Claire and Julie pull apart. Julie smiles. “Typical Lawrence,” she says in a low voice, reassuringly. “When he gets freaked out he starts acting more like a cop than usual.”
Claire laughs a little, but for the first time since crawling out of the car, she’s aware that she’s soaked through and shivering. Thunder rumbles overhead.
She grabs Julie’s hand, and together they run toward the boardwalk, toward Lawrence standing with his arms crossed. He’s still wearing that cape. Funny, how earlier it had made him seem all the more terrifying. Now he just looks ridiculous.
“Come on,” he says brusquely, like he’s an authority figure. Together the three of them walk through the dunes, Lawrence leading, Claire and Julie trailing, holding hands. Without the magic of the kiss, Claire slowly comes to terms with everything that happened.
Audrey put her in Abigail’s dress.
She locked Claire in a car on the beach.
Claire almost died.
I almost died. The idea shudders around her head. She glances over at Julie, water-logged and smiling.
Nothing makes sense, except for Julie.
When they climb up over the seawall, they’re standing on the edge of downtown. Half the streetlamps are out, but the Pirate’s Den sign glows at the end of the block, casting eerie red light into the rain.
“We can call the station from there,” Lawrence says, striding ahead with long, anxious steps. “Get out of the rain for a little while.”
Julie glances over at Claire. “Sound okay?”
“Sounds perfect.” Claire didn’t realize how hungry she was until now. Her whole body is drained of energy.
They march through the downpour and file into the Pirate’s Den. The arcade cabinets beep and chirp and let out light like a row of hearths. The man behind the counter gives a wave. Lawrence waves back like they know each other.
“Looks like you were caught in the storm,” the man says. “Ever make it to the dance?”
“Not quite.” Lawrence leans against the counter and runs his fingers through his hair. His hand is shaking, even if he’s managing to keep his voice even. “Mind if I use your phone? I don’t have any change on me.”
The man chuckles. “Why don’t you have something to eat? A large one-topping on the house. Looks like the three of you need it.”
Lawrence glances over at Julie and Claire, frowning.
“We’ll take it,” Julie calls out. She looks at Claire. “What do you want? You’re the lady of the hour.”
Claire feels herself color. “Pepperoni, please. And thank you!”
“You heard the lady,” Julie calls out. The man nods and bustles off to the back. Lawrence sighs, turns around to face them. Rainwater pools in a puddle beneath him. Beneath all of them.
“We need to report this to the committee immediately,” he says, his voice strained. “They need to know there’s a renegade monster—”
“Audrey’s not a monster,” Julie says quickly. “She’s something else. The monsters are the ones who warned us about her.”
Claire looks over at Julie, shocked. “Really?”
Julie nods. “Well, they tried, anyway. They aren’t—they aren’t good at dealing with humans.”
“Well, we still need to tell the committee,” Lawrence says. Then he looks at Claire, his gaze piercing and comforting at the same time. “I’m very sorry that I was—incapacitated. By whatever she is. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re all right.” He pauses. “I hope you’ll forgiv
e me.”
Claire looks at him. When he’s not with Audrey his eyes are brighter, his expression kinder. And she knows what it’s like to be controlled by Audrey, doesn’t she? “Of course I do.”
Lawrence gives her a crooked, relieved smile.
“Go find us a table,” he says. “I’m still going to call the station to let them know what happened. They’ll be able to send out a notice to the committee.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Julie loops her arm in Claire’s, which makes Claire glow. They walk to their usual table, dripping a trail of water behind them. Claire hopes the manager won’t mind.
Something catches at the corner of her eye. She glances up.
Fear paralyzes her through to her core.
Julie tugs on her arm. “Claire, what is it, what’s wr—”
She falls silent, and Claire knows she sees her too. Audrey, sitting at a table by herself, sipping a Coke through a straw. Her dress throws off dots of light. A half-eaten salad has been pushed to the side, a napkin crumpled on top of it. She finally looks up, catches Claire’s eye. Claire swoons.
“Well,” Audrey says. “This is unexpected.”
The sound of her voice brings Claire back to the present. Anger rushes up through her system. “Why did you do that to me!” she shrieks, lunging at the table, not knowing what she plans to do. Audrey doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. But Claire slams up against an invisible wall and lands sprawling on her back.
“Holy crap, are you okay?” Julie rushes to Claire and helps her sit up. Her touch is soft and warm, a respite against the harsh, crackling air.
Audrey doesn’t move from the table.
“Why’d you do it?” Claire can hardly breathe. “What’d I ever do to you?”
Audrey sighs, crosses one leg over the other.
“What’s going on here?” Lawrence’s voice booms out behind them. “Claire, are you—” He freezes.
Audrey tilts her head at Lawrence. “Hi, boyfriend,” she says.
Lawrence doesn’t move. Claire and Julie both watch him from their place on the floor. Claire’s breath is in her throat. She thinks about his blank expression in the car. His willingness to leave her to die in the car.
Forget This Ever Happened Page 26
