Fusion: A collection of short stories from Breakwater Harbor Books’ authors

by Scott Toney

  When I woke up, the first thing I did was check my ankle. It was giving me more and more trouble. The flesh was bruised to a purple color, with skin sore to the touch. The memory of yesterday’s experience combined with the deep, purple traces creeped the hell out of me.

  “Callie, breakfast’s ready!” Mom screeched from below. Whatever horrors I’d gone through yesterday night, ‘Callie’ sent me into motion—I loathed when people called me that, mostly because Stan Crosby loved taunting me with it.

  “Coming!” I yelled, grabbing the diary from the bed. Should I take it to school today? What if I see another Shadow on the way?

  I opened it where I’d put my last entry, took a pen and started scribbling hastily.

  Entry #154

  October 28

  The dead started talking to me. This time it was a girl. I have no idea what’s going on here.

  “Callie! Hurry up!” Mom shouted from the kitchen.

  “Coming!” I yelled, even louder that time, then bent my head to the page to jot down a few more sentences.

  Mom’s calling me. I’m off to school. Hope I’m not going to see more of the dead today.

  Bev entered my room, and I barely had enough time to shut the diary and hide it behind my back. “We’re not going to wait on you forever, Callie,” she said with a sly smile.

  Damn, she saw it! I cursed, not really sure what to do next.

  Bev flashed a wider grin at me, her eyes screaming, “Gotcha!”

  “You should knock before you enter. D’you know it’s polite?” I glared at her.

  “Oh, I just wanted to make sure you’re not dead.” Bev’s lips curved down, as if she was annoyed to find me still breathing. “You know Mom’s been calling you?”

  “Yeah, I’m not deaf, thank you. Will you leave me alone now?”

  She lifted her neatly plucked eyebrows, giving me her usual you’re-totally-mental look, then turned on her heel and left, her hair streaming in her wake.

  To call us cat and dog would be such an understatement. Not only were we different in appearance—I had blue eyes and fair hair while she had Mom’s dark-brown eyes and black hair—but we also could hardly bear each other’s presence for five minutes.

  Back in Phoenix I’d had a hard time tormented by Shadows at least once a week. Bev didn’t try to make me feel better. With each year my ‘nightmares’ got worse, and doctors suggested that we move to a less stressful environment. That was the time I’d found the old diary. Whereas it helped me not to see Shadows for some time, Bev did her best to make my existence a living hell.

  Well, I was the reason she had to be away from her friends. Unlike her, I didn’t have any, so I was all for moving from Phoenix, no longer paying attention to her sulking and sending silent curses my way whenever she saw me.

  Putting my diary into the bag, I went downstairs and took my usual seat, opposite Bev. “What’s for breakfast, Mom?” I asked, ignoring my sister’s scathing look.

  “Bacon and eggs, sweetheart.” Mom was fussing in the kitchen while we were sitting in the adjacent room. The divine smell of bacon reached my nostrils, and I took a long breath.

  “Any plans for today?” Bev asked me.

  “Since when do you care?” I said as Mom entered with two steaming platefuls that she put in front of us.

  “Thank you,” Bev and I chanted in unison.

  After Mom left the room, Bev said, “I just want to make sure you’re not going to use my make-up … again.” She tilted her head and drummed on the table with her long well-manicured nails.

  “You’ll never let it go, will you? An’one’s ’llowed one m’ssake,” I said, chewing.

  “One mistake? What about my shampoos and lotions?” she nearly screeched but kept her voice low for Mom not to hear.

  All right, I always wanted to know what it felt like to be a girl. Curiosity got the better of me. Now I knew it was no good: no good could come from borrowing my sister’s make-up and using her lipstick when she came in and found it smeared all over my face.

  “You know, I’m not even sure if I should use my bath sponges anymore,” she said. “Have you tested those too?”

  I nearly choked on the bacon and had to gulp it without chewing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Hmm, let me think. Have I ever even seen you with a girl?” She hit me below the belt.

  “Nope. That’s ’cause you’re hanging out with that jerkface Terry Haubert all the time!” I knew her weak spot and it was high time to sting her.

  “No, I’m not!” she hissed. “And if you ever call him jerkface again …” Her eyes narrowed and glinted with hatred.

  “Then what? What will you do?”

  She leaned in to me. “I’ll tell Mom you go outside at night,” she said very quietly, venom seeping through her voice.

  She got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a plate of pancakes. She didn’t sit down at the table, but went upstairs instead.

  “Leaving already?” I chanted.

  Bev answered by banging the door real hard. I did get under her skin this time.

  My good mood was tainted when I spotted today’s paper on the kitchen counter.

  I came to take it, then leafed through and found what I thought I would find. The picture of the missing boy. Greg Thornby.

  It was the same boy that I’d seen in the Shadow.

  *

  Though I hated school, I knew I’d better go today, otherwise Mom would ground me. No friends, no Facebook, no movies. She probably thought that was the best way for me to become a normal person.

  Everything was close to home in Olden Cross. The school was just a five-minute walk, but I had to walk part of the way past Mrs. Palmer’s old cottage, so I made a detour around Montague Street.

  “Hey, Callum! Wait!” a familiar voice behind me called.

  It was Nathan. Dressed in khaki trousers and a black sweatshirt, he walked with a confidence I always lacked. He raised his hand for a high five, and I smacked it with mine.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “You never go to school this way.”

  “Um, nothing. Just taking a walk.” How lame! “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing much. It’s a shame you didn’t go with us last night. I told the guys about yesterday, and everyone asked if you are okay.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Well, I mentioned that Mrs. Palmer stared at you without blinking. Still have goosebumps all over me.”

  Great, now they’ll think I’m as crazy as Mrs. Palmer, I thought.

  “I wish I’d come with you. I didn’t feel well, sorry,” I said.

  Nathan turned to me, his eyebrows knotted. “I thought you promised Mom to come home early.”

  “Oh, yeah. That as well.” You have to remember your lies better, I scolded myself.

  Nathan snorted. “You’re being weird, man. By the way, here’s an idea. How about you and I skip double Chemistry today and go back to the Swamps?”

  “What?” I asked, recoiling. “Seems like you don’t remember yesterday.”

  “We’ve got to take another look at it,” he pressed.

  The hair on the back of my neck bristled. “Thanks, but no, thanks.” I squirmed. “Besides, remember what Mrs. Wharton said? ‘I’ll make you clean all the phials and test tubes in my laboratory, Blackwell, if you miss another class’.”

  “The old hag says that to everyone. She’ll survive if you skip it.”

  He was always like this—too hard to say no to. I did want to know what the hell was going on there. On the other hand, the idea of seeing Greg Thornby made me shake with nerves.

  “Next time maybe,” I said, seeing Nathan knot his brows.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” I slapped him on the shoulder. “See you later.”

  Nathan grumbled, “Blow the old hag a kiss, okay?”

  “I will.” I winked at him and entered the school gate, feeling sorry that I didn’t go wit
h Nathan.

  Chapter 4

  Entry #26

  May 3

  He’s sitting right next to me as I write about him. He’s never blinked yet, his eyes on me all the time. His skull is fractured where the windshield had hit it, blood seeping down the side of his head.

  A couple days ago I came across a Shadow with a boy my age being knocked over by a car. His body was thrown a few yards away from the vehicle, as if feather-light. By the unnatural position of his arms and legs I knew he died on impact. The driver was so wasted he barely managed to get out of his car. People shouted around me, pushing their way to the immovable body lying face-down. Women cried, crouching over him.

  And now he’s here, sitting next to me. Why do I see him? Like the others, he never talks. Just stares unblinking and that’s it.

  I know that when I finish writing this sentence he’ll be gone. They are all gone once I’ve mentioned them in the diary.

  P.S. Yep. I was right. He’s gone.

  Good night, Callum. Sweet dreams.

  I didn’t know why I remembered that boy today during Chemistry. Maybe because Mrs. Wharton did a great job ignoring me, and once in a lifetime she didn’t pester me.

  I kept asking myself why I was the one seeing them. Maybe the dead had come to me to say I could have saved them? With that boy everything had happened at the end of the school day, just when I was in detention.

  I’d got used to them being around. But even after they were gone, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. How could I? They’d become part of my life. Part of me.

  The bell rang, and I scooped my books and left the classroom. The rest of the day was as gray as the skies.

  The storm clouds formed a purple, menacing line that unhurriedly advanced on Olden Cross.

  It’s going to rain soon, I thought grimly. It rained for the most part in this sodden place, as if sunlight and color were taboo. No wonder animals left the nearby forest long ago.

  I zipped up my parka. The wind picked up and ruffled my hair.

  “Look who’s here!” I heard a voice that haunted me as much as the Shadows these days. For once in a lifetime I wished I’d crossed a Shadow rather than come across Stan and his friends again.

  Just ignore them, I told myself. Walk and don’t listen. They just want to make you feel scared.

  The gang caught up with me in a matter of seconds, their bursts of laughter making me jump a bit.

  “Callie, where’s your boyfriend?” Stan sniggered, much to the delight of the other guys.

  I sped up my pace, trying to break away from them when Stan tripped me, and I toppled head-first.

  The group erupted in jubilation, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You’re gonna regret this, you scumbag,” I managed through gritted teeth as I got up. I’d never known I could say this to Stan, but here the words escaped my lips, and part of me knew I’d be eating sand any minute soon.

  The laughing stopped altogether.

  Stan’s face turned red. “What did you just say?” He clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “He said, ‘You’re gonna regret this, you scumbag’,” a voice from behind the group said.

  The gang parted to show Wayne and Audrey. Even though jealous as hell of Wayne holding Audrey’s hand, I was thankful for their sudden appearance.

  “Didn’t you hear him?” Wayne locked eyes with Stan who turned livid.

  Apart from his dad, Stan was afraid of only one person—Wayne. No one had cared to elaborate why, but Stan shut up whenever Wayne would come in sight.

  “We’ll see who’s gonna regret this,” Stan snarled. Without another word, he and his gang left.

  Wayne came up to me and clapped me on the shoulder. “We’re right in time, aren’t we?”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You saved me.”

  “Bastards must know where they belong.” Wayne flashed a grin as he brushed his long hair behind the ears. “Stan’s a bucketful of crap. I need to remind him about it more often.”

  Audrey planted a kiss on Wayne’s cheek, and I turned away from them, not sure what to do.

  “Are you coming to the Underground with us?” Audrey asked in her melodious voice; it was sweeter than honey.

  “Erm…” I hesitated, looking sideways at the approaching storm cloud. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

  They exchanged glances that I couldn’t read, then we parted ways. I walked towards the house, the swelling masses of purple encroaching faster than I expected, darkening the world to near twilight.

  An occasional drop caressed my face when I entered the yard and went though the entrance door. After a small talk with Mom, I went upstairs and locked myself in so that Bev wouldn’t bother me.

  Nathan didn’t drop in, nor did he call. Must have been busy with the Swamps’ explorations. I hoped he wouldn’t get in this rain.

  I unpacked my bag and hid the diary where it belonged, behind my bed.

  Lightning flashed and thunder pealed, followed by a lulling pitter-patter of the rain.

  To my surprise, I hit the pillow and fell asleep as soon as I closed my eyes. I didn’t have any nightmares that night.

  The next day I woke up rested. The rain still pelted against the panes, driving slanted streaks of water at the glass and turning the world monochrome.

  There’s no way my sneakers will last in such weather, I thought, pursing my lips.

  I grabbed my school bag without checking on the books I needed to take, and went downstairs.

  My good mood suffered a blow when I saw Bev. It got bruised even more when I found out Mom had left for the city. I grabbed a sandwich and poured myself a glass of orange juice.

  “Can’t you make it half a day without Mom?” Bev screwed her eyes, her lips curved in a condescending smile.

  “Why d’you keep mocking me?” I finally wanted to dot the i’s and cross the t’s with her. I’d had enough of her picking at me. “You’ve got yourself a boyfriend here, and back in Phoenix you had squat. You have way more friends here than back in Phoenix.”

  “That’s why,” she replied, pointing at me with her index. I raised an eyebrow at her. “Because you keep reminding me about it. I like it better when you sit with your mouth shut.”

  She rose and headed for the door, taking an umbrella from the stand. The only umbrella left.

  “Hey, aren’t you going to wait for me?” I asked, finishing my sandwich.

  She smirked. “You wish.” Turning the door knob, she exited, leaving me alone in the gray room.

  Avoiding the pools on the way, I got to the school gates where Nathan and I usually met. My hair and clothes were saturated with rain, but I’d already got used to it.

  Students passed me by, but Nathan wasn’t among them. Soon I was left alone in the rain, and I had nothing to do but enter the building.

  Why didn’t Nathan show up? He’d never skipped two days in a row. Maybe he got ill? Anyway, I didn’t like it.

  My first class was American Literature. With twenty-five students clogged up in a small room, it got stuffy and steamy within minutes.

  As usual I sat at the back, glad to be forgotten. There I could let my mind wander away from the topic of today’s class.

  First I inspected my fellow students—Jill Spenser fidgeting with her blonde pigtails, Bob Delaney nearly dozing off, the rest pretending to enjoy Mr. Jespersen’s euphoria. I peered through the misted windowpane, finding the outside gray more interesting than Mr. Jespersen’s speech.

  The rain lashed even harder, and I began to worry about how I would get home without umbrella if it didn’t stop. Drops trickled in irregular lines smearing the world into gray-white blobs.

  Yet, rain didn’t bother me as much as an empty seat next to me.

  Where’s Nate gone?

  Just as Mr. Jespersen was about to erupt with more enthusiasm—if possible—there came a gentle knock on the door, and a senior student poked her head inside. It was Sandrine Something,
I’m not good with last names. She tiptoed in and whispered a few words to the teacher, placing a scrap of paper in his hands.

  Mr. Jespersen furrowed his eyebrows. His features darkened, the corners of his mouth curving down. With all enthusiasm washed away, he cleared his throat. “Attention, please!” The murmuring stopped as the teacher’s stern eyes swept over the students’ faces. “This is urgent. Has anyone talked to Nathan Rushmore within the last forty-eight hours?”

  I straightened up in my seat. Tense silence spread through the classroom like an infection, magnifying the drumming of the pouring rain.

  “His parents reported him missing this morning, so if you know anything about where he might be, please tell us.”

  Mr. Jespersen and Sandrine looked expectant at the silent crowd when a wheezing sound escaped my lips, “I’ve seen him—”

  Chairs scraped against the floor surface, making me grimace. My own chair suddenly became very uncomfortable to sit on, and I fidgeted nervously.

  The teacher turned to me.

  “Yes, Callum?” he said.

  Damn it, I cursed myself.

  “He was here yesterday. Before classes, I mean. I saw him.” My voice produced a vibrato, and I clenched my sweating fists.

  “Then, Callum, you should probably go with Sandrine and talk to Chief Coleman in Principal Crosby’s office, so as not to interrupt our class.”

  Great! Meeting with the Crosbys must be my thing, I thought without much enthusiasm. Scooping my belongings, I shoved them into my bag, then got up to leave. Everyone stared at me, and I looked down to avoid my classmates’ eyes. I did my best to hurry out of the classroom as fast as possible.

  *

  Sandrine and I walked down the murky corridor without saying a word. I always felt uncomfortable when left alone with a person I didn’t know, and now was not an exception. Not paying me the slightest attention, she quickened her pace, and I had a difficult job keeping up with her.

  As if she wants to get rid of me, I thought dismally while scurrying after her.

  Heavy currents of water flowed down the windows reducing the depressing scenery to a blur. The image of Nathan going away from me towards the forest embedded firmly into my mind, seeping into the cracks between my thoughts and imprinting itself there.

  I should have come with him, I thought.

  Principal Oliver Crosby’s office was at the end of the corridor, away from the classrooms and the noise generated by the students.