Revelations (The Elysium Chronicles) (2 page)

I grip the bat tightly and tiptoe to the doorway. But what’s standing there makes me stop in my tracks.
Not again.

It’s Evie, and she’s staring at me with the blankest expression on her face. Her eyes are completely empty. Dead, almost. I’ve seen those eyes before. In Elysium. On the Enforcers. And, unfortunately, on her.

“Evie? Are you all right?”

She tips her head to the side and I fight back another shudder. “
My life is just about perfect
.” Then she slowly turns and walks down the hallway, her white nightgown fluttering behind her.

I’m so in shock, it takes me a minute to realize she’s already at the end of the hall and around the corner.

Shit! She must be sleepwalking. I chase after her, but she’s already back down to the beach when I catch up to her. She’s only walking. How is she moving so fast?

“Evie!” I reach for her hand, pulling it toward me and hoping it’ll make her stop. It does. But when she turns, I can only stare at her, while she seems to stare
through
me. She shakes me off and walks forward again. If she keeps going the way she is, she’ll end up in the ocean.

I rush forward and make another grab for her hand. She tries shaking me off again, but I ignore it and say, “Where are you going?”

She turns to face me. Blinks once, and says, “Home.”

A chill slides over me. “Home?” I ask dumbly.

“Home.” She twists back around and yanks away from me, splashing her way into the water.

I lunge forward and pull her back. She spins around and this time, when she looks at me, my instincts yell at me to let her go. I don’t.

A wave crashes over us, pulling us apart and knocking me to my knees. Freezing salty water collapses over my head, burning my eyes and nose. I shove up, coughing, and push my hair out of my eyes. She’s out of reach already. I don’t even think the wave bothered her.

Her nightgown is soaked and her skin glows through it in the moonlight. In normal circumstances, I’d appreciate the view, but I barely give it a passing thought as I wade deeper, trying to reach her before she gets to the drop-off.

“Evie! Stop. Please,” I try again, knowing it’s useless. Even though the air around me is hot, I’m shaking.

When I’m close enough, I grab for her arm, but we’re both slippery from the water and she pulls easily from my hand. The moonlight pours over her and while her eyes are red, they’re as empty as they ever were.

I’ve heard that if you slap someone in shock, it wakes them up from whatever it is that they’re doing. I dismiss the thought as soon as I’ve had it. I can’t hit Evie. But another wave crashes on top of her, knocking her over, and when she just stands up and keeps going, I realize I don’t have a choice. I don’t want to hurt her, but I want her alive. So I grasp her again with one hand and bring the other one up to slap her just hard enough that I hope it’ll wake her up … but before I can even make contact, she’s got my wrist and she’s squeezing it, pushing my arm back.

She twists around so she’s staring me down. Her eyes are inky bottomless wells. Empty and dangerous. Before I can react, her other arm swings around and I catch a glimpse of her fist as it connects to my jaw. The impact shoves me back and then water is surrounding me and my head spins so much with my ringing ears that I can’t figure out which way is up. I panic at first, flopping around, trying to get to the surface so I can breathe. But instinct forces through my panic and reminds me to relax and let my body float. My feet touch bottom and I shove to a standing position. Above the surface, I gasp for breath, shoving my hair from my eyes and searching for Evie, but she’s gone. I can’t see her.

I turn around in a circle as quickly as I can, but the water slows me down. It doesn’t matter, though.
I can’t see her.

“Evie!” I shout, my voice hoarse from seawater and coughing. I push forward toward the drop-off. “Evie!…
Evie!
” Nothing. No answer, except the waves as they push toward shore.

My eyes are blurry from the salt water and the panic tears burning them. “Evie. Please! Answer me.”

Then, by some miracle, the moonlight reflects off of something white and I know it’s her. “Evie!” I shout again, pushing toward her, forgetting about the drop-off in my hurry to get to her.

I go under mid-yell, swallowing seawater, but push up and spit out what I can. I just keep saying her name as I swim closer, because I can’t seem to say anything else. She’s not moving and her hair is all over. I can’t even tell which way she’s facing.

My heart stops when I get to her and see she’s facedown. I roll her over and drag her out as fast I can, using the waves to my advantage, but when I get her onto the beach and kneel over her, she’s not breathing.

“Oh God. Oh God,” I whisper, shoving her hair from her face. I breathe into her mouth, but her chest doesn’t even rise. There must be water in her lungs. I have to get it out.

“Come on, Evie.” I push on her chest, shoving on it harder and harder, screaming her name. “Evie. Please. Come on. Please.” I kneel closer to her mouth and push more air into her lungs, hoping to displace some of the water. Nothing happens. I shakily feel for a pulse, moaning when I don’t feel one.

“Wake up, damn it,” I say, pumping even harder on her chest. I refuse to give up. I’m not going to let her die. Not now. Not like this.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

Notice: You are now entering the Outlands. Safety cannot be guaranteed past this point. Proceed at your own risk.

—
S
IGN POSTED AT EXIT GATES TO THE
O
UTLANDS

Gavin

I pace the hallway in front of Evie’s room. The old worn hardwood floors creak with each footstep and I feel exactly how I felt six weeks ago when I carried her into the hospital. Except at least she was breathing then.

My legs shake as I remember how pale she was this time. Her lips turning blue no matter how often I tried pushing air into her lungs. Her body was as limp as the sacks of flour I used to cart around for Mr. McGreely, and just as hard to run with. I tripped twice in that short run and cut a long deep gash into my arm trying to protect her when I fell. If Asher hadn’t heard my yells and come running, then rushed to get Dr. Gillian … I don’t even want to think about that.

I stop pacing and glance over, scowling at the dark-haired boy leaning against the wall by the corner, talking quietly with my mother. Asher. Former best friend, current asshole. But there’s no doubt that I owe him a huge debt after tonight.

The door I’ve been pacing in front of squeaks open. Dr. Gillian looks exhausted and I know I don’t want to hear what he’s going to tell me, but still, I have to ask.

“Is she all right?”

“She’ll be fine.”

I don’t really hear what else he says—something about a dry drowning and her being extremely lucky—because my whole body sags in relief. She’ll be fine. That’s all I hear. Over and over in my head.
She’ll be fine.

“Gavin,” he asks, pulling my attention back to him. “Did you hear me?”

I nod quickly. “Yes. Of course. Whatever you want.”

It’s obvious from the look he gives me that he knows I hadn’t heard a word. With a sigh, he takes off his glasses and polishes them on his shirt. “I’m concerned, Gavin.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear what he has to say.

“This…” He pauses. “This episode she had, where she walked into the ocean, she says she doesn’t remember any of what you said happened.”

I nod. I expected that. She didn’t remember anything the other times, either.

“She also told me this is the third time she’s blacked out in almost as many days.”

“Um … well, technically it’s only twice. The first time I’m pretty sure she only freaked out because Lucy was running straight at her.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Gavin, we need to be serious here. You have to realize how grave this is. What she’s having, these blackouts—they’re what’s called a “fugue state.” It’s concerning because I’m not sure if this is a psychiatric issue or a physical one. I can’t even run any of the basic tests like a CT scan to make sure there isn’t some sort of brain damage. I simply don’t have the equipment.” He screws his face up in frustration, before straightening his features. “She needs to go to Rushlake. This is just … beyond what I can do here.” He spreads his hands out in front of him in a helpless gesture.

“You know I can’t go to the city. Not after…” I trail off, my gaze drifting over to Asher. I allow myself a second to glare at him before focusing on the doctor again.

He pats my shoulder. “This
will
happen again. Will you be around next time? More importantly, can you afford to watch her every hour of every day to make sure that when it does, she won’t walk back into that ocean?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. He’s right. There is absolutely no way I can be around her 24/7. Even if I could give up hunting and everything else to be around her, I have to sleep sometime.

He nods at me, then at someone behind me before turning back around and disappearing through the door.

“I’ll take her.”

I slowly turn to face Asher. “Absolutely not.
If
she goes, I’ll take her. This is none of your business and we don’t need your help.” It burns that I already owe him for helping with Evie. I’ll be damned if I’ll owe him another favor.

He touches my arm. “Gavin, come on. Let me help.”

“No.” I cross my arms over my chest. “The last time I let you ‘help,’ I ended up losing everything. I’m not letting you do that to me again.”

My former best friend’s face pales and then reddens almost instantly. “Oh, come off it, Gavin. They’re never going to let you into the city.” He glances at my clothes. “Even if you do manage to clean up enough.”

“We’ll get a visa from the mayor.”

“My father?” Asher barks out a laugh. “Good luck with that. He won’t give you one.”

“He’ll have to,” I say.

Asher laughs again, but this time there’s no humor in it. “That’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.” Then he shrugs. “Go ahead and ask him though. Good luck.” He starts to walk away. “You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

Evie

The air is heavy with heat and humidity. Between that and the exhaustion from almost drowning, my whole body feels leaden. So I just lie here and stare at the spiderwebs of cracks spreading across the ceiling and walls. I imagine them as thin fingers reaching for me, coming to steal me away from this world where I don’t belong. I almost wish they would, so I’ll stop endangering Gavin and his family.

This makes three. Three incidents since I left the medical facility. Three times I’ve hurt Gavin or almost hurt someone dear to him. The first was the day they brought me to live with them. The dog, Lucy, came out to greet me—well, everyone really, but she ran straight for me with her tongue lolling out and her teeth showing. The next thing I know she’s on the ground underneath me and Gavin is prying my hands from around her neck.

Luckily, everyone agreed that they’d have reacted the same way, given the fact that I’d never seen a dog before and it did (kind of, sort of, probably not but maybe) look like she might be attacking. No one, including the dog, seems to resent me for it. Now Lucy follows me everywhere, like a little yellow dog-shaped shadow.

The second time, I don’t even know what started it. I was sleeping. When I woke up, I had broken into the room where Gavin stores all of his hunting gear. I was standing in the middle with an assortment of weapons around me, and one in each hand. When Gavin had called my name, I’d spun around with both weapons drawn, my head screaming at me to
kill the Surface Dweller
.

Now I’ve almost drowned myself—and Gavin—trying to get “home.” I don’t even know where that is!

I can’t stay here. I can’t stay where I’m going to harm someone because my brain decides to shut off and my body just does whatever the hell it pleases.

With a sigh, I lie back against the pillows and close my eyes against the hominess of the room. I don’t want to see how they’ve made this room nice for me, with soft, sweet-smelling bed linens and the beautiful furniture. They’re a little scratched and damaged, but it’s easy to tell they’re the best in the house. And so is this room. With the beautiful flowers which are changed every few days—by Gavin’s mother no doubt—and the white lacy curtains at the windows that look like they’re almost brand new. Ann Marie’s wedding stuff filling up her side of the room. I don’t want to see any of it, because I’ve done nothing but cause them problems and they’ve done nothing but try and make me feel comfortable and at home.

For a while there’d been the soft murmur of voices and I’d hoped Gavin would come to visit me, but the murmur died down a while ago and Gavin never came. Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t know what to do. It’s happened three times. It’s sure to happen again. And next time we may not be so lucky.

Eventually the door creaks open and Gavin pokes his head in. My heart soars when I see him. I open my mouth to say his name, but he places his finger over his mouth and scoots in, shutting the door quietly behind him. He strides across the room, his long legs eating up the floor in two steps, and when he pulls me gently into his arms, my heart skips a beat.

He lifts my chin with his finger so I’m looking into his beautiful silvery gray eyes, and for what feels like forever and no time at all we stare at each other. Then, finally, his mouth is on mine. My eyes close and my stomach flutters as my head spins. For a moment, as our lips touch, I feel right. Like maybe I
am
home.

Then he pulls away and reality crashes in again, like the waves crashing against the shore. This isn’t my home, and I’m going to end up killing someone if I stay here. I have to talk to him.

But before I can, he says, “We have to be quiet. I snuck in. The good doctor thought it would be better if you rested without me bothering you.” He rolls his eyes. “Mom’s got the door guarded, but she had to use the bathroom, and everyone else is asleep, so I took advantage.” He smiles, then kisses my nose before nudging me over with his hip and lying down beside me.