Dreamveil (2 page)

2. Material produced by genetic engineering.
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—Paul Berg, 1980 Nobel Laureate in Chemistry
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If he found her awake, he’d make her do it again.

“Hide in the closet,” a voice whispered from beneath her bed.

“No.” Lana’s hands shook as she pulled the quilt up to her neck and held it there. She was ready for him. “Be quiet. Don’t say anything.” A movement made her turn her head, and she saw the dim smear of Jimmy’s small face in the darkness. His brown eyes looked like holes burned through a bedsheet, reminding her that she wasn’t the only one who was scared. “It’ll be okay, Jimmy.”

She jumped as the bedroom door flung open and hit the inside wall. Bits of plaster fell from the edges of an old hole made a little larger by the impact of the doorknob; it crackled as it pelted the floor.

Backlit by the hallway lights, her dad cast a wide, block-shaped shadow across Lana’s bed. He stood there for a minute, wavering, taking another drink from the bottle he carried before he let it drop to the floor. As he came across the carpet the soles of his shoes scraped against the plush fibers.

Don’t shake. Don’t move. Don’t touch him.

Lana felt his wide, damp palm press against her forehead, and pretended to stir rather than flinch. The hardest part was keeping her breathing slow and steady, as if she was really asleep, while she fought the other feelings. They crawled under her skin like bugs, itching to get out and do their work.

Touch him touch him touch him touch him tou—

“Lanie. Baby.” Whiskey-soaked breath puffed against her face. “You ’wake?”

Lana mumbled something and turned over on her side, clutching the stuffed bear she slept with against her pounding heart. She could feel her dad swaying over her, watching her, deciding what he would do. It depended on how drunk he was. Some nights he’d remember how it was before, when her mom was alive and they were a real family, and he’d leave her alone. Other nights . . .

But that was her fault. She’d been afraid; she’d lost control. If she hadn’t, he would never have found out.

“Tomorrow night, baby.” Damp lips pressed against her ear before his rough voice crooned, “You’ll be a good girl and do it again for Daddy, won’t you?”

Bile inched up her throat. If he kissed her mouth, she would puke in his face. But he couldn’t reach her mouth, not without losing his precarious balance and falling on top of her, so he straightened, shuffling back a step.

“Tomorrow night,” he repeated.

Lana waited and listened as her dad shuffled from the room and the door banged shut. She heard the faint sounds of keys being pulled out and the creak of another door as it opened and closed. She didn’t open her eyes until she heard the very last sound, the bell, and then she eased out of her bed and tiptoed over to put her ear to the door. Only after several minutes of silence did she know it was safe.

Jimmy sat up from his hiding place as she went to the closet and took out the backpack hidden behind the boxes of shoes. Her hands shook too much to unbutton her pajama top, so she pulled it over her head, revealing the T-shirt she wore beneath it.

“You can’t run away,” Jimmy said, careful to keep his voice low. “He’ll call them. They’ll find you. They’ll make you come back.”

“No.” She opened a bureau drawer and grabbed a handful of socks. They didn’t know about what she could do; he would never tell them. “I’m not ever coming back.” She’d stolen a little money every week from the cash box kept in the kitchen, and while forty dollars and sixty-eight cents wouldn’t take her far, it would have to be enough.

She couldn’t do it again. Not ever.

“What about me?” Jimmy’s voice climbed a panicky octave. “You can’t leave me behind. He’ll know that I helped you.”

Her dad had a terrible temper, but while her mom had been alive he’d managed to keep it under control. He’d even been like a father to Lana, in a distant, indifferent way. She knew the only reason her parents had adopted her was that they couldn’t have kids of their own, and her mother had wanted a little girl to love. Then things had changed, and her mom had stopped sleeping and started reading the Bible all day, carrying it with her everywhere, ignoring Lana and her dad until that last terrible night.

The slashing knife.
You hellspawn
. The fiery pain punching into her back.
You demon.
Every word screamed.

Lana’s dad had never been the same after the funeral. He wouldn’t talk to the police or anyone. He locked himself in her mom’s room and drank. Whenever he came out, it was only to get more whiskey. Lana tried to speak to him and he hit her, knocking her into a wall.

You did this. She was right about you.

“He’s gonna be really mad,” Jimmy was saying.

“Call your mom after I leave and tell her that my dad hit you,” Lana told him as she shoved some underwear into her pack. “Show her those bruises on your back you got from falling out of the tree. She’ll believe you.”

Jimmy’s mother, who shared custody of him with his father, had already complained to her ex- husband about Lana’s dad and how much he frightened Jimmy. The last time she’d come by on an unannounced visit she’d found Lana’s dad sleeping on the floor in the hall with a mostly empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s, and she’d warned Jimmy’s father that she would go back to court and have the judge give her full custody. Jimmy had heard everything.

“But what if he comes to get me before my mom gets here?” Jimmy persisted. “He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t.” Lana shouldered her backpack and went over to kneel by the bed. Before she could say a single word Jimmy had her in a stranglehold hug.

“I don’t want you to go.”

She rubbed her hand carefully over his sore back. He’d been a good friend to her. “It’ll be okay, Jimmy. You like living with your mom better anyway.”

“My mom would help you, Lana.” He pulled back, running his sleeve under his nose and blinking fiercely. “Maybe you could come and live with us. We could ask her. She likes you.”

“My dad would find out, and you know what he would do to her.” Lana gently removed his clinging arms from around her neck, and looked into his tear-filled eyes. “I’ve got to go now.” She kissed his forehead. “Don’t be afraid. Just hide until your mom comes.”

She left Jimmy sobbing soundlessly into the side of her bed, and slipped out of the bedroom. After listening once more, she crossed the hall and crept out to the stairwell. She could see the front door from there, and the new locks her dad had installed a month ago, which required a key to open from either side. Fortunately everyone in the house had a copy, and Jimmy had been able to slip his father’s from his key ring and bring it to her.

Lana clutched it in her fist as she moved toward the stairs. In a few minutes she’d be downstairs and out the door, and she’d be free. No more sleepless nights, no more hiding from her dad, no more fear. No more Lana, either. She’d already picked out her new name, thanks to an old movie and a map of North Carolina. She didn’t know how exactly yet, but she was going to find her real parents and call them. When she told them what had happened to her, they’d be sorry and come and get her right away. They had to.

A low chuckle behind her made Lana freeze.

“I knew you were faking it,” her dad said against the back of her neck.

As Lana swung around, she saw Jimmy standing just behind her father. He was holding his baseball bat.

“You let her go.”

Her father turned, his fist rising, and then Jimmy swung the bat, knocking it into the side of his head with a solid thunk. Lana bit back a scream as her father reeled into the wall and slid down it to sit on the floor, his head sagging against one shoulder.

Jimmy lowered the bat and looked at her as tears streaked his face. “Now you can get away. Go. Hurry.”