Alight The Peril (23 page)

Every day that Harriet remained quiet, I was grateful. But she was likely gathering her strength, probably biding her time until just before summer solstice when she would be at her strongest. Knowing that I’d be able to take her down was the only thing that kept me from full-fledged anxiety attacks 24/7. Mason, Angeline, Sophie, and I were just about ready to bait Harriet and trap her. Ang was getting better at switching quickly to the hypercosmic realm when I reached out to her while she slept. Sometimes she still woke up too soon, but we were working on it. A few more tries and she’d have it down. I hoped, anyway. We couldn’t afford to let another week pass. I’d done my best to banish all thoughts of Zane from my mind until after we’d dealt with Harriet.

The last day of school, there was a huge party at the cove. Ang, Mason, and I planned to drive over together. I stood in front of my closet, trying to decide what outfit would best help me look the part of Normal High School Junior Going to a Party. I pulled out a cute pair of clay-colored cargo pants that were girled-up with a ribbon tie belt and little ties at the ankles, and a spaghetti-strap top the color of rust. Then I dug through my shoe bin until I found strappy flat sandals that I normally wouldn’t be able to wear out at night ‘til July. The unusually warm weather seemed to be sticking around, and although pleasant, there was something unsettling about it. I grabbed a cropped dark denim jacket just in case a cool breeze from the lake picked up later.

Ang picked me up in her mom’s car, we stopped to pick Mason up, and then we headed for the highway that led around the lake.

“I feel like we’re going to a drill,” Ang said with a short laugh.

“I know. But this is supposed to be fun, not work.” I sighed and started twisting a strand of hair around my finger. “Not sure I can switch into fun mode.”

“Well, at least promise me you’ll try to fake it?” Mason said, and he reached from the backseat to poke my ribs.

I giggled and swatted his hand away. “I’m such a bad liar, though. But at least we’ll be right there at the cove, in case anything tries to break through from the dream world.”

Ang parked, and each of us grabbed a piece of firewood from the trunk. We walked, side by side, crunching down the dirt road. When we reached the bonfire area, I started scanning the crowd for Sophie. I knew through our link that she was fine, but I couldn’t resist the urge to find her and verify it with my own eyes. I spotted her with a group of dance team girls on the other side of the fire.

Sophie glanced my way.
Hey, Corinne!
she said.

I realized I actually preferred that she didn’t openly acknowledge our friendship. By some strange logic, maintaining the façade of our long-standing grudge helped things seem normal. Most of the kids at the cove tonight had a sibling or friend who was mysteriously ill, and I honestly wanted nothing more than for all of their lives to be normal like before.

Mason dropped his bonfire contribution on the pile, and Jesse called out to him. He gave me a wink, then drifted toward the picnic table where Jesse and Garret stood. Jesse held a plastic cup that I imagined contained beer, but I knew Mason wouldn’t drink. It wasn’t really his thing. And none of us wanted to be caught off guard tonight.

Ang and I joined a group of girls sitting on a log bench near the fire. She jumped right into the conversation about how Mrs. Summers, the art teacher, had actually teared up during class because she was so proud of the crooked vases and bowls her pottery students created for their final project of the year.

I tried to get involved in the conversation, but after a minute or two, I zoned out, staring across the lake, watching the reflection of the stars dance across the rippling surface.

I know you can fake it better than that
, Mason said.

The corners of my mouth lifted a tiny bit.
Yeah, yeah. I’m just easing into this whole teenagers-having-fun shtick.

I forced myself to at least follow the conversation, even if I couldn’t tune in enough to participate in it. Sophie and a couple of her friends joined our group after a while and entertained us with stories about sneaking out at night when they were out of town for a dance team competition. Before long, I was laughing along with everyone else, and a knot of tension seemed to loosen in my chest.

Mason sat down next to me, and we watched the various clusters of kids morph and change as everyone milled around.

See? Fun! It’s not so bad,
he teased.

Whatever,
I laughed.

He reached over and pulled my hand free from my jacket pocket and closed his fingers around mine. I wanted to curl up in the warmth of his palm.

My phone vibrated in my other pocket, and I pulled it out and checked the caller ID. I frowned. It wasn’t like my dad to check up on me. That was more my mom’s department.

“Hey, Dad,” I said.

“I just talked to Mom.” His voice was tight in a way that made my stomach lurch. “Brad isn’t doing well. He has an infection, they think, and his temperature is so high he . . . he’s unconscious right now.”

“Oh no,” I whispered. The sounds of the bonfire popping and the chatter and laughter around me seemed to fade away.

“Can Angeline bring you home?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’ll get her right now. You’ll wait for me, right?” I let go of Mason’s hand and stood, looking for Ang. He stood, too, and in the back of my mind I could feel his alarm at my sudden change of mood.

“I won’t leave without you. Be safe, but hurry.”

I need to go home,
I said to Ang.
Brad is worse. A lot worse.

I’ll grab my bag, and we can go.
I saw her break away from a knot of girls and lean down to retrieve her bag from the pile near one of the log benches.

Dad just called,
I said to Sophie.
Brad has a fever, and he’s unconscious. We’re going to Danton.

I’m coming with you,
she said.

Ang appeared at my side. “Okay, let’s get you home,” she said. Everything around me seemed oddly insulated and far away.

The sing-song of several ringtones began to cut through, bringing me back to the popping bonfire, chatter, and laughter around me. I needed to get home, but a new unease snaked through me. I paused and scanned the faces of more and more kids who stood with their phones pressed to their ears. One by one, their expressions grew more serious.

“It’s not just Bradley. Others are worse, too,” I said. “Harriet’s back. I think . . . I think she’s trying to kill them.”

Thankful that someone else had the wheel, I tried to make a plan as Angeline drove me and Mason back to my house. I wasn’t sure if anything in my arsenal would help my brother or the others now. I just wanted to get there before it was too late to try.

I saw lights flip on through our kitchen window as Ang stopped at the curb in front of my house, and Sophie pulled up right behind us in her Honda. I ran up the walkway, ripped the front door open, and raced down to my room to grab my remaining bottles of tincture.

I ran back upstairs and turned into the kitchen.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I said, panting a little.

Dad leaned against the counter, his phone pressed to his ear. He gave me a little wave. I realized someone else was here, too. Aunt Dorothy sat on one of the bar stools on the other side of the island.

“Are you coming with us?” I asked, and when she nodded, a small wave of relief rushed through me. Maybe she’d be able to help me decide what to do when we got there.

I heard the front door bang closed, and Sophie joined us in the kitchen.

Dad’s call ended and he shoved his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. “Okay, let’s be on our way.”

Take the front so I can talk to my great-aunt,
I said to Sophie.

When we backed out of the garage, I noticed Ang was still parked on the curb, with Mason in the front seat.

We’re coming, too,
Ang said.

Thank you
. I tried to swallow the lump swelling in my throat.

I’d have the entire union at the hospital. Maybe together we could do more for my brother and the others.

I touched Aunt Dorothy’s arm to get her attention, and leaned in so I could whisper to her. We brainstormed ideas, and the ride passed much more quickly than I could have imagined.

I influenced the nurses at the station near Bradley’s room so I could get Ang, Sophie, and Mason in there with me. I used a very faint influence on my parents so they wouldn’t freak out at having so many people piling into Brad’s room.

When we all crowded in, I took in my brother’s too-still face and my hand flew to my mouth to stifle a sob. I heard Sophie’s sharp intake of breath behind me.

Bradley was hooked up to an IV and monitors, and blood vessels the color of a fresh bruise stood out beneath his pale skin. Mom was mopping his forehead with a damp washcloth, and when she saw us, she dropped it and rushed into Dad’s arms, burying her face against his neck. She reached out and pulled me into her embrace, and for a few seconds, I lost it.

Mom pulled back and composed herself, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “He’s in and out,” she said. “They’re trying to bring down the fever.”

I brushed the tears from my face and took a deep breath.

Are you guys ready?
I turned to my three friends.

|| 27 ||

SOPHIE’S EYES WATERED A LITTLE, and I started to tear up.

She drew a shaky breath. “Okay, let’s do this,” she whispered to me.

First, Mason sent sheets of blue sparks through the room to clear from the air any residue of the blackness that was causing the disease. I sent a wash of white influence through my brother, to rectify any influence that Harriet may have used. Then, I formed a mix of influences, letting my instincts guide me, and pushed it into his body. Ang and Sophie wove one of their glimmering nets and let it float down to settle over my brother, which I hoped would offer some protection as well as sustain the effects of my influence.

It struck me that what we were doing for Brad was similar to what I had planned for Harriet, but with an entirely different purpose, of course.

My brother wasn’t with it enough to be drinking water from a cup—it looked like he was getting fluids through the IV—but I dropped some tincture into his pitcher anyway, just in case he woke up and was able to drink it.

We stopped at Toby’s room next. I slipped my arm around Ang’s shoulders in a half hug. Her sadness came through our link in slow waves.

“How soon will we know if it’s working?” Ang asked as we left Toby.

“After we’ve visited everyone, we’ll go back to Brad and see if there’s any improvement. Then we’ll check on the others.”

“I think we’re going to need to come back,” Mason said. “Soon. Maybe every day until they’re better.”

I appreciated that he sounded so confident about their eventual recoveries. I really needed to believe this would work.

“I’m thinking the same thing,” I said. Weariness began to creep through my body.

“We’ll do what we have to,” Sophie said, and we all nodded.

We went to nearly a dozen rooms total, each occupied by a friend or classmate. Genevieve was our final visit. When we arrived, two nurses were trying to restrain her long enough to reattach her IV. Gen writhed on the bed, delirious and sweaty. Her hair, usually curled into perfect soft waves around her shoulders, framed her face in a matted, tangled mess.

I influenced the nurses so they wouldn’t question our presence, and we waited for them to take care of Genevieve. One nurse added something to the IV bag, and we watched as Gen’s muscles relaxed and the tension dissolved from her face. As soon as the nurses left, Sophie stepped forward and smoothed Gen’s hair from her forehead. Sadness swept through me as I recognized that three of the people Sophie cared most about—her boyfriend and two best friends—lay unconscious in this hospital, fighting for their lives.

Mason wove crackling blue sparks through the air, cleansing the room and leaving behind the faint smell of ozone. I bathed Gen in influences, and Sophie and Ang shrouded her in one of their nets.

As we quietly left Gen’s room, all four of us seemed to sag. I longed to curl up and give in to the sadness, fear, and exhaustion that pulled at my heart and limbs.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s see how Bradley’s doing.”

I pushed open the door to his room, and quickly influenced my parents before Ang, Sophie, and Mason followed in behind me. My parents and great-aunt had pulled three chairs together in a tight semicircle near the foot of my brother’s bed.

“Did he wake up?” I examined my brother’s face for signs of distress as I reached out with my mind and scanned him.

Mom’s eyes stayed on Brad’s still form as she spoke to me. “No. But his breathing is less ragged and his temperature has come down a degree.”

“Is that because of what they’re giving him?” I asked. I really wasn’t sure how I’d know whether our efforts were making him better, or if his improvement would have happened anyway, due to the stuff in the IV bag.

“Maybe. He was steadily getting worse until about a half hour ago.”

It’s working, I know it is,
Ang said.

I glanced at Aunt Dorothy and she gave me a tiny nod.

I stood straighter, my energy a little renewed, and led my friends out to the hallway.

“What do you think?” I faced them. “Should we go check on everyone else?”

“For sure,” Mason said. “If we can do any good with just a couple hours’ effort, we need to see that.”

I felt the same way. I glanced at each of their faces and saw bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them, and lips pulled into serious, determined lines. It wasn’t just about trying to determine whether we’d wasted our time. We all needed a lift right now.

Over the next hour and a half, we found that nearly all of our patients—as I’d come to think of them—had improved. Fevers not quite as high, or at least no longer rising. A couple had opened their eyes for a few moments. But some remained in a coma-like state with temperatures spiking into brain-damage territory if the fever didn’t break soon.