Invisible

by DelSheree Gladden

  ***

   

  As I wait for Hayden to show up for lunch, I pull the card out of my pocket and start dialing before I can talk myself out of it. A man picks up on the third ring.

  “Reliable Appliance Repair, how can I help you?”

  “Hi, this is Karen Mallory. One of your repairman fixed my dishwasher last week. I can’t remember his name, but the dishwasher isn’t draining again.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Mallory. I can send a technician out this afternoon at no charge to rectify the problem. What time will you be available?”

  I gulp, terrified of going through with this. “Any time after three o’clock would be fine, but the closer to three, the better.”

  Sounds of computer keys being tapped echo over the line. “I could have someone there at three-thirty.”

  “That would be great,” I say, “but could you make sure you send someone different. The last guy obviously didn’t solve the problem. I’d rather not have him come again.”

  “No problem, Mrs. Mallory. Alex will meet you at your house at three-thirty this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” I say quickly and hang up.

  Breathing hard, I struggle to calm myself back down. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do with the card when I first stuck it in my pocket this morning, but when I overheard Robin asking Mason if they were going to get together to watch the Sentinels again this afternoon, all I had to do was hint at Evie that she should go over to her friend Allison’s house after school in order to have the house to myself.

  Mason’s angry refusal to help me only served to make me more determined to follow through. He did make me reconsider how wise it was to invite my attacker back into the house, though. Requesting someone different still gets me a Sentinel, but one that won’t know I recognize him for what he is. Now I just have to figure out what to say to him in order to get some answers.

  Before I can think on it too much, Hayden slips into the seat next to me.

  “I love that I didn’t have to beg you to sit with me today,” he says with a grin.

  “I’m a girl who keeps her promises.” My smile is small and timid, but Hayden grins even wider.

  Hayden bites into his burger, but his attention is still mainly on me. He eyes my salad suspiciously. “Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”

  “Huh? No, I just wasn’t very hungry today.”

  He looks unconvinced and pushes his tray closer to me, French fries first. I laugh and take a fry off his plate. He really is a sweet guy.

  “How’s your side feeling?” I ask.

  “Better.” He shrugs the question off. “How’s your face?”

  “Sore, but less puffy at least. These bruises are so gross looking and I keep biting my lip,” I say grumpily.

  Hayden looks over at me… at my lips specifically. His lips turn up slowly. “You look beautiful, even with a split lip and bruises.”

  He’s lying, but I appreciate the compliment. When I smile at him he sets his burger down and looks over at me. His fingers twitch, as if they want something, but instead he says, “You should see my side. It looks like my little sister spilled watercolors all over me.”

  “You have siblings?” I ask. I assumed he was an only child after his parents showed up at our house the other night on their own.

  Hayden nods. “Two brothers and one sister. I’m the oldest.”

  “I didn’t know that. I only have one sister, Evie.”

  “I know. I’ve met her. My brother, Matt, is friends with Aaron.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say without thinking.

  Hayden laughs. “Aaron’s actually not that bad. A little immature, but a nice kid.”

  I crinkle my nose in response.

  “My brothers thought the bruises and stuff were pretty cool. Lydia, who’s five, told me I looked like a zombie,” Hayden says.

  “You don’t look that bad.” I chuckle, though, imagining his little sister.

  We go back to eating our lunches then. As I munch on lettuce and French fries, I’m surprised to realize that being around Hayden isn’t nearly as confusing and awkward as it was only a few days ago. It’s actually kind of… nice.

  When the bell rings, Hayden grabs both of our trays and carries them to the trash. I wait for him to return before heading out. It’s strange to not have Mason by my side as we stalk through the hallways. I know he’s never far away, but it’s weird to feel so alone. I realize that since I was five I have spent almost every waking minute of my life with Mason. It’s a sobering thought I’m not really sure what to do with.

  As we approach my class, a goodbye forms on my lips, but Hayden isn’t ready to let me go just yet. His hand slips into mine and he pulls me to a stop. Something pushes me to take a step closer to him.

  His fingers come up and brush my hair back. Worry creases his forehead. “Are you doing okay?” he asks. “You seemed kind of distracted or upset.”

  “Just some stuff at home,” I say quietly. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Can I call you later?” he asks.

  “Um, sure.”

  Hayden chuckles. “Don’t sound so excited.”

  “No, it’s not that,” I laugh, “but you don’t have to ask permission. You can just call if you want.”

  He seems surprised by this, but nods his head in acceptance. “Good to know. I’ll talk to you later then.”

  “Okay.”

  With that, we go our separate ways. I turn toward my next class, but catch sight of Mason watching me from across the hall. He looks positively sick, but I can’t let myself be drawn in by him. Not only do I hope he is sick, I have no intention of talking to him before I follow through on my plan for this afternoon. Knowing him, he’d somehow guess, and wring all the details out of me.

  I yank the door to the classroom open and step inside. The door swings closed behind me, but that hardly means it shuts Mason or the Sentinels out of my mind. I spend the rest of the afternoon distracted by them both.

  After the final bell, I take my time at my locker. I want to avoid watching Mason and Robin head off together, but they pass by me in the hall on their way out. I turn away as soon as I see them, but not fast enough for Robin not to catch my eye. I hate the sad look in her eyes, like I’m the one hurting them.

  I shove my locker door closed and stalk out to the Jeep. Intent on getting a step closer to ridding ourselves of Sentinels, I drive the short trip back to the house. The house seems unnaturally quiet when I walk in. I’m sure that’s just my imagination, but it creeps me out all the same. I busy myself trying to figure out how to make it look like the dishwasher isn’t draining.

  Given how little I know about the workings of dishwashers, in the end I settle for dumping a pitcher full of water into the bottom of the dishwasher and hope it doesn’t disappear before the guy gets here.

  The buzz of a text message distracts me for a moment. I check Evie’s message saying she made it to her friend’s house safely and set my phone down on the counter. A moment later, my heart jumps out of my chest when the sound of harsh knocking shatters the silence.

  Walking toward the door, I try to calm my racing heart, but that proves impossible. The pounding only gets worse the nearer I get. I feel like I am about to faint by the time my hand touches the door knob. I stand there quaking for probably a full minute before finally turning the handle and opening the door.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I ask. I recognize the guy from the pictures of the Sentinel in the second car. His blue eyes are even more striking in person. They kind of freak me out, to be honest.

  “I’m Alex, from Reliable Appliance Repair. We got a call saying your dishwasher was having trouble again.”

  “Uh, yeah. My mom is running a few minutes late, but she told me to let you in when you got here. The kitchen is right through there,” I say, pointing.

  I’m not about to turn my back to this guy. I wait for him to step
inside and start toward the kitchen before closing the door and following him. He doesn’t say much as he walks, but his eyes take in absolutely everything. It’s more than a little disturbing.

  Heart still racing, I sit down on one of the kitchen chairs and watch him get his tools ready. A few minutes later, I have no idea whether he’s fixing the dishwasher or making things worse, but I’ve had enough of waiting.

  “You look familiar,” I say. “I feel like I’ve seen you recently.”

  Alex—or whoever he really is—shrugs casually. “Can’t think of any time we’ve met before.”

  “Are you sure?” I decide to push a little harder. “I think it’s your eyes. They’re so blue. I’m sure I’ve seen them somewhere before.”

  Alex turns to look at me. Something seems to be going on inside his head. I have no idea what, but it makes me want to cringe. He sets his tools down and dusts off his hands. When he sits back on his heels, I begin to wonder if this was a really bad idea.

  “I think I would have remembered meeting you,” he says. “You’re a very pretty girl.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  He stands slowly and I begin to know this was a really bad idea. I try not to show any signs of fear, even though I want to bolt. Alex steps around the open dishwasher and approaches me slowly. The smile on his face is playing at being seductive. I’m pretty repelled by it, knowing this guy is a killer, but I do my best to pretend I find him appealing.

  “When did you say your mom was going to be home?” Alex asks as he leans against the table right in front of me.

  “Soon,” I say shakily. “She got held up at work.”

  His hand slides over my cheek, making me want to hurl. I don’t move a muscle. This was a really, really bad idea. I try to think of something to say that will help me, but before I can, Alex’s hand snaps away from my face and around my throat. I lash out immediately, scared out of my mind.

  “Next time, don’t try to flirt information out of someone, Olivia. You’re really quite terrible at it,” he laughs.

  Choking, terrified, desperate, I still have enough presence of mind to take offense. I slap at his hands even more fiercely. He yanks me off the chair and throws me to the ground. My head rebounds off the tile painfully. Before I can react, Alex has one knee on my chest. Nothing I do budges him. Tears start rolling down my cheeks.

  “Why did you call me here?” Alex demands.

  “I wanted to know why you’re watching my house,” I say.

  Alex leans down, his face hovering above mine. “You know why we’re watching your house.”

  I shake my head in a panic.

  “Yes, you do,” he counters. “You know we’re looking for your invisible friend, your Aerling.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Get off me!”

  Alex jerks his knee up and smacks it down on top of me. Every spec of air in my body blasts out and I gasp frantically for a breath I can’t catch. Panic grabs hold of me, pouring terror over me like a waterfall.

  “Where is the Aerling?” he demands. “We know you have one.”

  “We don’t!”

  Alex presses down on me, his lips practically touching my skin. “I want the Aerling, Olivia. Tell me where he is and we’ll never bother you again.”

  “You’re a liar,” I croak. “You’ll kill us after you have what you want.”

  “No,” he snaps, “we’ll kill you if we don’t find what we want!”

  My fingers tear at his hands, desperate to get him off of me. I scratch and claw, throw my knees at him, but nothing works. I hear a noise from the other room and panic, thinking more of his friends have come to find Mason. I nearly lose it when I see Mason scrambling into the kitchen doorway instead.

  Fear stronger that I have ever felt in my life grips my heart. My mind races to know what to do. If I warn him, the Sentinel will know he’s here and go after him. I would rather let this psycho strangle me than give up Mason.

  Mason seems paralyzed as well. He knows what will happen if he tries to help me. Suddenly, his eyes narrow and he takes a step forward.

  “No!” I scream. Mason freezes. The Sentinel’s hand tightens around my neck, thinking I am talking to him. I try to keep it up. “Leave us alone, please! We don’t know anything about an Aerling.”

  The Sentinel intensifies his control over me. His knee slips off my chest, and for a moment I think I have a chance to escape, but it falls to the side of me so he is straddling me, pinning me helplessly under his grip. I gasp as his weight threatens to crush me. Mason tries to take another step, but I shake my head violently. I can see the panic in his eyes, though. I won’t be able to stop him for long.

  “Tell me where the Aerling is!” the Sentinel screams.

  “I don’t know.” I gasp again, trying to gain enough breath to mount some kind of attack or escape. I try to buck him off of me, but it barely moves him. The only advantage I gain is that I see my phone on the table. My eyes jerk from Mason to the phone, praying he gets the point.

  “How long do you think you’ll be able to hide him, Olivia?” Alex says. “You’re not a Caretaker. I know what you are. You’re the only one that can hear him, talk to him, see him. You won’t last. We’ll find him, and then we’ll kill you both.”

  Shaking my head, I claw at his face, kick, and try to force him away from me. He fights back. My head slams into the ground as I see Mason skirting around the far side of the kitchen. He’ll get me the phone. He’ll get me the phone. I repeat that over and over in my mind as Alex and I struggle.

  Desperation claws at me as I catch sight of Mason reaching over the table for my phone. I get one hand wedged between me and the Sentinel. My nails dig into the exposed flesh of his chest. My other hand reaches out, praying Mason can get me the phone. Twisting, yanking, I do everything I can to distract him. He grabs a chunk of my hair and yanks my head back until I cry out in pain.

  Another shot of agony darts through my right hand as something hits it. The sting of nearly having my hair ripped out almost keeps me from realizing what just happened. My hand slaps frantically across the tile looking for my phone. Alex yanks my head back again, drawing a strangled yelp from me.

  The cool, trembling feel of Mason’s fingers dropping the phone into my hand almost makes me snatch my hand away. Fear snaps my fingers around the case instead. I don’t think. I can’t spare a second. The phone slams against my ear desperately.

  “Help!” I screech into the phone. “There’s a man in my house trying to kill me!”

  The Sentinel’s eyes whip up to my face. Panic drenches him. His body lurches toward the phone. His fingers tear at me, scratching my face and hands. My free hand slaps at his face. I wedge the phone between my ear and floor so he can’t get it.

  “I’m at 367 Sycamore!” I yell. “Hurry! Please! He’s going to kill me!”

  My words freeze the Sentinel. He jumps back as if I just burned him. Scrambling to his feet, he stumbles away from me. “The police can’t stop us,” he says, but the fear in his eyes calls him a liar.

  He backs toward the hall when I lurch up to my feet. I hold the phone against my ear as I stare him down. “They’ll be here in two minutes,” I say calmly.

  His eyes widen. I expect him to attack me again, but he runs, throwing the door against the wall as he bolts into the street. I don’t move a single muscle until the sound of his truck has disappeared completely. I am so baffled I can barely even think. Mason throwing his arms around me is barely enough to break through the shock.

  “Are you okay?” he demands. His hands start wandering over me, checking for serious injuries. When his hands come back up to my shoulders, he shakes me roughly. “Olivia, are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I say slowly.

  Mason stares at me, his concern deepening. “Olivia, the police are going to be here any second. We need to figure out …”

  “No they aren’t,” I say numbly.

&nbs
p; “What?” Mason asks.

  Shaking myself, I hold the phone out to him. Its blank screen confuses him. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “There was no way I could see the phone to dial or even get it to turn on. I couldn’t do anything. Pretending was all I had. I didn’t even think it would work, but he bought it… and ran away.” My face screws up in confusion again. “Why did he run?”

  Mason stares at the phone. He looks as confused as I feel. An uneasy feeling settles over the room. “I have no idea,” Mason says, “but I doubt it means anything good.”