Some Quiet Place (21 page)

I struggle to my feet, Charles supporting me and all the while still talking in my ear. Tim wouldn’t actually leave just because he was told to, would he? I whisper with a pang of hope, “Fear?” No answer. No tang of terror. Just then the clock chimes in the hall.
I’m late for school
. A simple thought, reflex.

“Elizabeth, answer me, damn it!” My not-brother’s face looms close, demanding and concerned.

“Charles?” I squint, as if he’s an apparition that’ll disappear any second. When I realize that he’s real, he’s not going to fade, I ask with slight disbelief, “What are you doing here?” I see that Courage is gazing at me, his hand on Charles’s shoulder.

“Only for you would I risk coming back here,” Courage tells me solemnly.

My not-brother is still holding my arm, and when he sees that I’m finally lucid, he lets out a breath of r
elief and lets go.

“Are you all right?” he says rather than answering. “When I first came in, it seemed like you were in pretty bad shape. I had to take care of Tim, so I left you for just a second, and when I came back, you were passed out. But now it doesn’t look that bad.”

He and Courage watch as I study my arms, legs. Nothing. No bruises, no cuts. No pain. My throat is fine. I must have healed as I slept. I look at Charles again, at his achingly familiar mop of hair, ruddy skin, fidgeting hands. Of all the people I would have expected to save me, he was the unlikeliest possibility. “What are you doing here?” I repeat. I already know, of course, but for some reason I need to hear the words out loud.

Charles just shrugs. “I had a bad feeling. I came back to make sure you’re doing okay, and I heard … should I take you to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. I think I’ll even go to school today.” I rest my hand on his arm, right next to Courage’s dark-skinned fingers. The Emotion’s heat enfolds me, and my quailing insides calm a little. “Charles,” I say. Just the one word, just his name. He has to hear the question in it. We’re standing in the middle of my room, surrounded by the mural, by the pieces of the past, the truth that I’m not his sister. We both know it—but still, Charles came back. I didn’t expect this. Very few times in my life have I been wrong about a person.

Experiencing Courage’s influence for the first time, Charles makes a choice. He reaches for me and jerks me to him for a quick, awkward hug. I hug him back. When he pulls away, my brother clears his throat. He does it again. Finally he blurts, “I’m going to be here from now on, all right?” He means to sound gruff, but his tone is laced with relief and a faint tinge of pride. Right before Courage disappears, I catch sight of a tiny smile curving the Emotion’s normally serious lips.

I smile, too. “I believe you.”

Charles spoke the truth; Tim is nowhere around. His truck is gone. Seeing this, I hurry to get dressed, grab my bag, and get into my own truck. There’s something oddly comforting in the routine, and I drive to school like it’s any other day. As if Sarah is at home in the kitchen, Tim is out in the fields, and Charles is sleeping in before his shift at Fowler’s Grocery. Everything is different now, of course.

The parking lot is full by the time I pull in, and my normal spot is taken. I don’t want to park at the outer edges where anyone, or a certain someone, can attack me, so I park in one of the open spots beside Sophia’s red convertible toward the front. Bought with her father’s money, of course. I’ve heard Sophia’s friends say that he buys her off to make up for never visiting. Sophia always demands that the spaces on either side of the car to be empty so no one scratches the flawless paint job. How thrilled she’ll be to see my tank by her precious car.

I’m through the front doors, just a few feet away from my locker and moments away from class, when I’m spotted through the office window.

“Elizabeth?” Sally Morrison shoves the door open and stands there in her perfect clothes, with all her good intentions, staring at me. I slowly turn. Her eyes are so sad as she keeps looking at me, waiting for me to say something. She really does want to help. I clutch my bag tightly.

The counselor sighs after another moment. “Do you want to come into my office?” she asks, motioning for me to walk before her. I do, remaining silent.

Together, we enter the room we’re both so familiar with. Sally shuts the door quietly and takes her normal seat, smoothing her skirt. Again, the woman gives me an opportunity to talk first, but I don’t take it.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Sally sits back, sighing. She doesn’t expect the truth. She’s waiting for another lie, like I’ve given her every other time I’ve been in here. Her crossed legs and her shiny shoes hold all my attention as I think.

Sally waits. She doesn’t speak or even glance at the clock. Finally, finally, after we’ve been silent for ten minutes in this tiny room of hope and pain and lies, I give Sally Morrison my first truth. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I have nothing left but this.

“Remember that day in your office? The bruises?” I ask. She just continues to wait. So I finally tell her, “A cow didn’t kick me in the face.”

Twenty-One

The only unchanged variable in my new life is Joshua. He calls every night, walks me to my classes. As time goes on, though, he stops insisting on giving me rides. He begins to believe that I’m safe again. Tim is still mysteriously missing, and I haven’t seen or heard from Nightmare. But I know it’s a lie, this delusion of peace.

He’s coming.

Fear still hasn’t made an appearance. When I think of him, I experience a twinge in my gut. Worry, trying to claw free of the illusion.

On Wednesday morning,
a week after Sally Morrison called me into her office, I pull into the school parking lot. The sky is gray, the wind dismal. Winter, a striking Element with white eyelashes and blue lips, is on her way. I remove the key from the ignition and drop it in my jacket pocket. Through the windshield, I watch the kids walking by, chatting. All of them are secure in who they are and where they stand. If it weren’t for the illusion that still holds on, I think I’d be jealous.

Joshua is waiting on the front steps of the school. I see him before he sees me, and I hop out of my truck, watching him. His bright eyes scan the crowd climbing up the steps, and when he can’t find me, his gaze expands out to the lot to pick out everyone in the clusters by their cars. He’s so kind, so good, and I know that the best thing to do—the right thing to do—would be to free him. Even if the illusion does fully break, even if I do come out of this alive … he’s only a beautiful idea.

Just like Fear. Who must be enjoying Rebecca’s ministrations. Since I haven’t heard from either of them, they must have reached the happily ever after they’ve been denied all these years.

Thinking this, my stomach tight, I shoulder my bag and start toward Joshua.

“So it’s Elizabeth now, correct?” a voice breathes in my ear. A beat later it adds, “It’s time.”

My spine stiffens and I stop in my tracks. Tyler Bentley gives me an annoyed glance as he passes. He doesn’t see the urgent message in my eyes. I open my mouth—

“I wouldn’t do that,
Elizabeth
. Ah, don’t turn around, please. What are you going to do, call the sheriff? Tell one of your teachers? None of them can see me, and you’d look like a hysterical schoolgirl. And then you’d have the boy’s blood on your hands. Wouldn’t want that now, would you? Start walking.”

He means Joshua. He’s threatening Joshua. I obey, my gait halting as I begin the trek across the parking lot. “You’re not going to touch him,” I say through my teeth.

Nightmare laughs quietly. He’s following me, moving with the group around us as if he belongs. He’s still leaning over my shoulder when he warns, “Then I suggest you stay quiet.” Before I can say anything more, my hair is stirred by a sudden breeze and Nightmare is gone.

But I can feel him nearby. Even when Joshua spots me, smiling soothingly as his warm palm cups mine, I can sense the chill of Nightmare’s presence.

Between classes, I pass him in the hallway and his strong scent—blood, darkness, hunger—assails my senses. Our eyes meet, blue against that infinite black, and then I look away, acting as if I can just wish him into oblivion. He turns as he passes to keep those eyes on me. He’s playing a game of cat-and-mouse, toying with me before he makes his final move.

Yet Nightmare still doesn’t attack. Even when I notice him behind some shelves in the library, watching me and Joshua study, even when he passes the doorway to one of my classes and winks at me.

It’s one of the slowest days I’ve ever experienced. At the end of it, Joshua kisses me on the cheek. “I have to go home real quick,” he tells me. “But I’ll swing by your place later, okay? Make sure you’re never alone.”

His concern causes more spasms in my wall, more digging in the hole.

Sophia, for once, ignores me when I pass her group. She’s been acting this way ever since the town found out about Tim—instead of mockery and pranks, she now pretends I don’t exist. It’s the best she can do, I suppose. Sally doesn’t talk about any of it, of course, but my brother does. Some of Sophia’s friends see me and look away. Most with guilt.

At the end of the day, I get into my truck with no trouble from Nightmare. Get on the road. On my way home. Back to Charles. Safety is only a few miles away.

And then he appears in the back of my truck, his eyes gleaming back at me in the rearview mirror. I slam the gas pedal all the way down, intending to knock him off balance and leave him behind in a cloud of billowing gravel.

Pop
. One of the tires explodes beneath me.

Now I smash on the brakes, open the door, and fly out of the driver’s seat, heading for a field to my left just through a line of trees. I don’t bother checking to see what’s ruined the tire. Nightmare expected it to happen; he’s already disappeared. I’m a blur through the trees. There’s no way he can possibly catch me. Where is he? I turn …

… and he wraps his hand around my throat.

“Sleep,” he purrs. His grip tightens, just barely. A fierce desire to curl up and succumb to darkness creeps over me. I fight it but my eyelids are so heavy, as if my eyelashes are made of iron. Somehow, I manage to lurch away from the Element and stumble in the opposite direction, back toward my truck. I hear Nightmare sigh impatiently. “Fine, have it your way.” When I glance back, a gun materializes in his hand.
Not real, not real
, I tell myself in a daze, staggering.

A sharp pain billows through my shoulder and down my back. I gasp, faltering, and as I do so he shoots again, another bullet slamming into my lower back. Colors swim before me and unbearable waves of heat spread through my body. I stumble to my knees, rendered helpless. For a shivering instant time stands still. Then I drop, landing face-first into the dirt.

I watch his shoes approach, all shiny. I’m powerless.

“You do like to make things harder for yourself,” Nightmare says, squatting beside me. “It’s quite amusing.” He reaches down to grasp my chin, turning my head to the side so he can see my face. I can’t speak; it’s so hard to keep my senses straight with all this pain burning through me. My vision begins to cloud until the face leering down at me is nothing but a blur—all that stands out are those voracious eyes. The whiteness of his shirt.

“ … please … ” I manage to say, moaning.

“You’ll be fine. We both know you’ll heal.”

My head starts to pound and I can’t suppress another moan. A rock is digging into my stomach, but I hardly notice it compared to the agony of the gunshot wounds.

Lying. It’s all I have left. “ … not one of them … ” I say, tears slipping out the corners of my eyes.

Nightmare rests the butt of the gun in the dirt, leaning on it. He balances gracefully on the balls of his feet, as if he wants as little dirt touching him as possible. “I beg to differ, my girl,” he replies. “As I said, I’ve been looking for you, and even though you’re wearing a different face, I know. Not to mention the fact you have those abilities. How foolish do you think I am?”

The pain is consuming. I make a strangled noise. The Element shakes his head, sighing. “Our kind really can be so arrogant. As you’re finding out, we’re not everlasting. I’ve drained more of you than I can count. And we just keep coming back!” He smirks. “It’s a game that never ends. Kill Guilt once, and a new one pops up to take her place.”

At my silence, the monster cocks his head yet again, examining every inch of me. He doesn’t seem to be worried about anyone driving by and seeing my abandoned truck. After a minute, he sighs. “Well, let’s get this over with.” He reaches down again and digs his finger into my hair.
He begins to drag me through the long grass, and I barely feel the pressure on my scalp before the rest of the pain tightens its hold on me, and my world goes dark.

Something soft against my cheek. Something cold. I stir but don’t open my eyes. Instinct drives me deeper into the shadows. But then the soft, cold thing on my face leaves and quickly returns in a decidedly less pleasant manner.
Slap
. Frowning, I come awake. My vision is swallowed whole by a pale oval. I swallow to wet my throat. “Where am I?” It comes out as a croak.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

I blink rapidly, and the oval solidifies and becomes a face I would recognize anywhere. “Fear?” He’s lying next to me, head propped up on his hand, looking down at me with a gentle light in his eyes. His fingers brush a strand of hair away from my face.

“What—” I start. My memory chooses that moment to come back in a roaring current and I let out a gasp. My hands clutch at Fear’s shirtfront of their own volition. I sit up, head swimming. “We have to get out of here.” I look around, and Fear’s nearness must be affecting me, because my heart is pounding against my rib cage so strongly that it just might break it. “Nightmare—”

Fear shushes me, smoothing my hair back from my face. “Don’t worry about him,” he says. “He won’t touch you.” Dimly, I realize that I’m drenched in sweat.

We’re on a bed in a huge, shadowed room. The sheets are twisted around my waist, pearly white. The walls are elegant, painted in a muted shade of lavender. There’s one large window to my right, and curtains have been drawn over the glass. It’s warm in here, a feeling of safe isolation crowding close. My pulse slows.

The Emotion shifts so that his hip rests against mine, and I lift my chin to look up at him. I didn’t think I’d see him again. Where is Rebecca? I study his expression, wondering what this means. Before I can open my mouth and let out a torrent of questions, he tells me, still in that calming tone, “Nightmare just needs to know where your father is.”

The words bring the dread back in a rush. Forgetting Rebecca and the rest of the questions clogging my throat, I shift uneasily, struggling to breathe. “M-my father? Tim? Is Nightmare here? Where are we?”

Fear lowers his mouth to mine. It’s so startling that every coherent thought flees my mind. Fear doesn’t wait for me to recover. His palm brushes over the bare skin of my stomach and his lips are sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted. He shifts so that his body is turned toward mine. My back falls against the mattress and I drown in the fire of Fear. His hand becomes a fist in my hair. Different sensations gust through me, and for the first time in my life, I feel that place
down there
tingle. My grip tightens on his shirt and I pull him closer, as if every part of him isn’t already fused to me. This is what I wanted that day in the hallway, this is what the illusion stops me from—

Fear pulls away so abruptly that our lips make a smacking sound. “Just tell me where your father is, and I’ll go relay it to Nightmare so you won’t have to,” he says with a drowsy look in his eyes. “Then I’ll come right back.”

I open my eyes. “W-what?” The haze of lust begins to ebb. My brow furrows and I look up at Fear. His expression is impatient, demanding. After a moment I tell him, my voice a rasp, “I have no idea where Tim is.”

He shakes his head, caressing my spine. This time the touch doesn’t distract me. “Not Tim. You know I don’t mean Tim. Please, Elizabeth, just tell me. Then this will all be over and you and I can be together.”

I stare. “No, Fear, I don’t know who you mean. Charles kicked Tim out, and he left. Who are you talking about?”

He stares at me three full seconds. I count them.
One. Two. Three.
Then, without warning, the beautiful Emotion screams. Before my eyes, a cut slashes across the mouth that just kissed me with such passion. He rolls out of the bed and hits the floor with a dull
thud.
I scramble to reach his side and Fear rolls, holding his stomach. “He’ll kill me if you don’t tell him!” he says through his teeth. Then he jerks and lets out another cry of pain. Blood spurts from a fresh wound in his gut, caused by an invisible weapon held by an unseen hand. I try to cover the gushing hole with my shaking fingers, shaking my head dumbly.

“I-I don’t—”

“Tell him!”

Tears stream down my cheeks.
“I don’t know!”

Everything freezes. And then Fear is gone. One second he was on the floor, bleeding and dying, and the next Nightmare is standing in his place, looking down at me with an unfathomable glint in his eye.

I recoil, landing on my bottom painfully. Nightmare sighs. “Let’s try this another way, shall we?” he asks blandly, straightening his shirt cuffs.

My lip lifts in a snarl and I struggle to my feet so I can launch myself at him, claw his eyes out. But before I can, I lose myself in swirling, cackling shadows once again.

“It’s simple. All I want to know is where your father is. Please,
Elizabeth
. For your own sake, tell me.”

Another shock jerks through my body, and I cry out.

The light bulb above us flickers some more. It hangs on a wire, which is nailed to a wooden ceiling. No rays of light burst through the cracks, leading me to believe it’s night. I can’t see much, because my vision is still blurred and it’s dark in here, but from what I can tell he’s brought me to some sort of shack in the woods. I can hear the trees rustling outside, smell the richness of the earth, barely feel the breeze slipping past. There are no animals, no Elements, no Emotions of any kind. None of them dare tangle with this creature.

Which means no one will be coming to rescue me. I’m on my own.

And this is the ultimate truth. Because here, I’ve realized, is where I’m going to die.

Nightmare circles the table I’m lying on, sighing. “You’ll have to forgive the décor. My powers of persuasion seem to be lost on you.” When I still say nothing, he bends so his face is level with mine. His voice is kind as he adds, “You have to give up at some point, my dear. I’ve already won. You’re just prolonging your own pain.”

Snot runs down my mouth, and I try to spit it out. It only clogs my throat, and I gag for a few moments. Nightmare’s expression twists into one of disgust. His pupils are slits, like a cat’s. “Give me your father’s location and I’ll let you go,” he says gently, brushing some of my hair out of my face with his sharp fingernails. He draws little pinpricks of blood. I can’t even move away from his touch.