by Aella Black
“Hello?” I ask. No one responds.
Then I hear a voice I know so well—the same voice that haunts all my dreams.
“Phoebe! Where are you?” Dad calls out.
I spin around in circles, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He never is anymore. Not since—
A crow caws, taking to the sky. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. Now would be a good time to wake up if this is a dream.
More crows emerge from the trees, and one dives at my head. Crying out, I throw my hands up and duck. Then I hear more screeches and look up to see more of them headed my way. With their black wings pumping furiously in the air, I have only a split-second to decide what to do.
I run.
It makes no difference. When the birds descend, they peck and claw at my skin and clothes. In my panic, I trip over a fallen branch and tumble to the ground. The crows are relentless now, so I curl up in a ball, cover my head, and pray for this nightmare to end.
Something tickles my wrist. I know it’s not a bird, but I’m afraid to see what it is. After a recent snake-filled dream, I assume the worst.
Taking a peek, I see that a green vine has wound its way around my wrist and is inching its way up my arm. I try to wrench it free, but it’s no use. While my attention is focused on my left arm, another vine binds my right. They’re pulling my arms away from my head, leaving me exposed to the viciousness of the birds.
I let out a blood-curdling scream, and the murder of crows takes off in every direction. Murder, indeed.
Another scream sounds throughout the forest… but it’s not mine.
Looking up, I see Xander running toward me, frantically slapping himself. There are no crows in sight, and I can’t see whatever is bothering him. Until he gets closer.
Spiders.
“Phoebe, help!” The fear in his eyes is unmistakable.
He collapses in front of me and flails around on the ground. Right by the vines.
“Xander!” I yell. “Get up!”
Heedless of my words, he cries out, continuing to thrash amongst the vines. I scream in frustration. Why do I have to be so helpless?
Soon, Xander’s arms are bound as tightly as mine, and soon after that, he stops struggling. Tears form in my eyes—finally!—but it’s impossible to reach him.
With no fight left in me, I hang my head and cry.
I woke to the sound of heaving sobs. As exhausted as I was, I knew instantly where they were coming from. Damp with sweat, I tried to control my breathing and visualize something—anything—that would replace the image of Xander dying in front of me.
I couldn’t.
Growling, I pushed off the scratchy covers and climbed out of bed. The clock on the wall told me what I already knew. Padding over to the bathroom, I splashed my face with water and looked in the mirror, half expecting to see claw marks on my face.
My hair, which had lengthened during my time in prison, brushed my bare upper arms, reminding me of the spiders crawling all over Xander’s body. Shivering, I went back to bed.
While I waited for the alarms to blare, I stared at nothing but thought of everything. Or more accurately, everyone.
My father, of course, who was always present but just out of reach. In dreams, and in my reality. Xander, who also played a starring role in my sleep—and not in a good way. He’d hate it if he knew that, and I had no intention of telling him.
Mr. Fletcher had been absent from this particular nightmare, but he was usually there to torment me in a variety of ways. My mother even made a cameo or two.
Worst of all was when my friends appeared. Each and every time they were dead, and because of this, it was getting harder to look at them during daylight hours.
Each nightmare felt more real than the one before. Like they were visions of what could happen rather than a product of my subconscious’ overactive imagination. It’s why I worried about Dad. The lights flashing on each morning signaled another day he could be killed… if he hadn’t been already.
I thought back to the few precious moments when I thought I saw him in the hallway. It was obvious sleep deprivation was causing my mind to play tricks on me. Could it make me lose it completely?
At the morning march, I located Xander and immediately moved as close to him as I could without touching him. I was glad I didn’t have to look him in the eye, but I needed reassurance that he was alive and well. I didn’t have that kind of guarantee with my dad.
“It’s Wolf,” he murmured, so quietly I barely heard him.
I looked around, expecting to see Wolf’s beady eyes trained on us, but I didn’t see him. “Where?” I whispered back.
“No, not here. Wolf… he was the messenger.”
My mouth fell open. Not because of the news—which was jaw-dropping in magnitude—but because I’d forgotten. Was I that much of a zombie I forgot Xander risked life and limb yesterday?
Apparently so.
“Do I even want to know?” I asked.
“I’m still trying to figure out if I want to know,” he said, shaking his head. “Ow.”
My gaze snapped to Xander’s face, and I noticed his eyes looked a little glazed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much. Just a little run-in with a concrete wall.”
I tensed. “Wolf hurt you?”
A pause. “Believe it or not, it was an accident.”
“Okay, this I’ve got to hear—”
“Shut up and walk, you two!” I jumped, spinning around to see a guard waving his baton at us. He wasn’t within striking distance, but he might have been within hearing distance. We’d have to continue this conversation later.
Once again, Xander and I were the first to arrive at the breakfast table—but not by much. He quickly told me about his confrontation with Wolf, saying the note was meant for him this time, not the entire group. He wasn’t sure why that was, and he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure about Wolf. That made two of us.
“I think we should hold off telling everyone Wolf is the messenger,” he told me, right before Tex and Birdie showed up. Rocky and Cathy were right behind them.
As soon as she’d sat down, Cathy lamented that she’d never received the promised message yesterday.
“Uh, about that,” Xander said, looking uncomfortable. It was obvious he didn’t enjoy lying to our friends, but I trusted his judgement that it was necessary for now. “Sorry, you guys. I think I scared the guy off.”
To avoid seeing the disappointment on our friends’ face, my eyes sought our supposed savior. Wolf stood against the far wall, leaning against it like he didn’t have a care in the world. He caught me staring and gave me a knowing smirk. Did he think we were talking about him, or was he thinking about how it felt to wrap his hands around my neck?
I shuddered at the unexpected memory. Remembered the way he’d killed me, just to see if I could really come back.
And if I couldn’t? All’s well that ended well… for him.
He’d also murdered Oscar, which made it nearly impossible to reconcile him with the guy Xander said was willing to risk his neck for us. Plus, why didn’t he say anything when he escorted me to my cell the other night?
Yes, waiting to tell the others was the right call.
After cleaning duty, we were told to report to the main hall for matches. As much as I hated them with a passion, it was the one chance we had to all be together again.
Rocky and I walked side-by-side into the gigantic room, Cathy and Birdie behind us. Xander high-fived Cooper when he saw him, and Cal and Tex gave each other bro-hugs. The girls and guys had each formed little groups and were catching up when I spotted Dane nearby with his buddies. He was glaring at someone across the room, and when I followed his gaze, I saw that it was Lucy. Apparently, they were no longer on speaking terms.
Birdie’s quiet voice interrupted my people-watching. “Do you think they’ll make me fight?”
“They haven’t yet, have they?” Cathy said, though we all knew that meant nothing
. Even Birdie.
“But they could, right?” she asked.
Rocky leaned down. “Look, Sparrow. If your name gets called, I want you to just sit, criss-cross applesauce, in the middle of the floor. No one—and I mean no one, is going to hurt you, got it?”
I wrapped an arm around Birdie’s back and pulled her close to me. “We won’t let them,” I promised her.
“Let who, do what?” Cal asked. He had a grin on his face that didn’t match the tone of this conversation.
The guys had moved over, and we all formed an uneven circle while waiting for Mr. Fletcher’s voice to interrupt our fun. It was a sign of how bad things had gotten that this was the closest thing to “fun” we had these days.
“Nothing,” Rocky said. “We’ve got it under control.”
Xander raised his eyebrows.
“Cooper here had an interesting idea, didn’t ya, Coop?” Tex said.
The kid, who still looked as scared as the day he arrived, perked up. “Yeah. They should make the supernatural guards fight each other,” he said.
“Now that would be entertainment,” Rocky said, rubbing her hands together in glee.
“Who do you think would win?” Cal asked.
She shrugged. “Warrick, don’t you think? Nobody can do anything with him around.”
“Ha, speak for yourself!” Xander said, and everyone laughed. Xander had knocked Warrick out during the riot, rendering him useless.
“Yeah, but don’t rule out Nash.” Cathy was right. Nash’s ability to neutralize powers was probably the most useful of all in a fight.
“Yeah, but can he kick somebody’s butt?” Rocky asked.
I tuned out their discussion and focused on Mr. Fletcher, who had just walked into the room. He looked dressier than usual, wearing a red shirt and black suit. Less like a prison warden, and more like a… ringleader.
Once again, we were the circus animals.
“Welcome, boys and girls!” he yelled, flashing his bright-white smile. Our little group went silent, while some inmates cheered. “We’ve got some great match-ups in store for you today, so let’s get started, shall we?”
More cheers. I gave Birdie a little squeeze, and Xander moved in next to me on the other side. He must have somehow sensed I would need him for what happened next.
When the crowd quieted, Mr. Fletcher called out, “Our first fight of the day will be between Hunter and… Rocky!”
My stomach dropped to the tile floor. I looked over, and Rocky’s gaze collided with mine. There was a fierceness in her eyes that told me she had no intention of sitting “criss-cross applesauce” when the fight began.
Erasing all doubt, she growled, “That wall-climbing freak is going down.”
“Be careful,” I pleaded. She nodded once and then lightly pinched Birdie’s cheek before making her way to the center of the room.
Xander’s hand found mine, and we both squeezed at the same time. I angled my head to face him so Birdie wouldn’t hear. “She’ll be okay, right?” I whispered.
I’d fought Hunter before, and he was ruthless. Rocky had some serious wrestling skills though, so at least she had that in her favor.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine.” I could hear the lie in his voice. He sounded the same as he did this morning when he told our friends he’d scared off the messenger.
I was about to call him out on it when a guard dumped a pile of various sized rocks in the middle of the room. Birdie looked up at me with a grin on her face.
Well, that was unexpected. Rocky’s ability to turn rocks into weapons meant she had this match in the bag.
“Don’t get cocky…” I heard Xander whisper. But he wasn’t talking to me.
Rocky, with an uncharacteristic smile on her face, pumped her fist in the air. When Mr. Fletcher gave the signal, she headed straight for the pile of rocks.
Hunter had his own strategy, though. He stayed pressed against a wall, refusing to move away from his greatest advantage.
And Rocky wasn’t about to stand by when there was a fight to win. She grabbed a rock in each hand that grew into pointed purple crystals, the length of an arm. Then she charged.
Hunter waited until she was almost on him before scuttling up the wall. He kicked off and immediately dropped on top of her, knocking one of the crystals out of her grip. Rocky punched him in the stomach with her fist, eliciting lots of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the audience.
Which is exactly what we were. The entire room was captivated by the show the two fighters were putting on. I hated every minute of it.
Rocky moved to jab Hunter in the leg with the crystal. It was a good plan of attack—he wouldn’t be wall-walking with a leg injury—but Hunter ducked out of the way just in time. I’d forgotten how ridiculously fast he’d been during our fight together. I wished I’d warned her.
The two circled one another, Rocky lunging at any opening available, but Hunter dodged her blows. It was going to be difficult to get a clean shot. While she was trying to maneuver him away from the wall, Hunter made a mad dash for the crystal she’d dropped on the ground.
Now he had a weapon.
The crowd cheered and roared, and my breath caught in my throat. Still glued to my side, Birdie whimpered. Xander squeezed my hand almost painfully.
But Rocky didn’t seem phased. I shouldn’t have been surprised. As her former cellmate, I could attest to the fact that very little phased Rocky.
She managed to swing her crystal fast enough to graze Hunter on the arm. He hissed when he looked down and saw his ripped uniform. When his head came up again, I saw a blood-crazed look on his face I’d seen once before. And that’s when I really got scared.
Hunter sprinted for the wall again and launched off it, throwing his crystal at Rocky. She deflected it with one arm, but he used the distraction to get behind her and kick her in the head. She fell to the floor with a loud thud. Birdie squeaked in alarm, and Xander groaned.
I couldn’t breathe.
Hunter didn’t waste any time. He immediately began kicking Rocky while she was already down. She screamed in what sounded like a mix of pain and frustration. Finally, she got a hold of Hunter’s leg and pulled him to the ground. There was murder in her eyes when she lunged for him.
The next moments seemed to move in slow-motion. Rocky pulled her fist back to punch Hunter in the face when one of his hands curled around a crystal. He jammed the weapon into Rocky’s chest, and she gasped, her fist suspended in the air. Then Hunter pushed Rocky off him, sending her flying backward to the tile floor.
The entire room was dead silent, everyone waiting for Mr. Fletcher to call the match and for Rocky to be carted off to the medical ward. But I knew that wouldn’t happen.
Hunter had struck a death blow… on purpose. And Mr. Fletcher would probably reward him the same way he had Wolf.
Tears stung my eyes as I watched Rocky place both her hands on her chest and wrap them around the crystal. If she could turn it back into a rock, then the doctors could patch her up. Except that she didn’t. She just held her hands at the spot where the crystal had entered her body.
Was she just going to give up and—
Birdie’s sobs were the much-needed reminder that, in this situation at least, I wasn’t helpless. In fact, I was born for it.
Ripping free from Birdie and Xander, I ran straight for Rocky. I heard the shouts from my friends behind me, but everything else faded away. All my focus was on my friend who needed me.
Rocky was the first person I met after I arrived at Leavenworth. She taught me how to fight… how to defend myself. She was the one who, despite being turned in by her own family, still took a chance on a family of friends.
By the time I reached Rocky’s side, tears were cascading down my face. Her eyes were glazed and confused, her face a ghastly shade of white, and her breathing was labored. When she opened her mouth to speak, a trickle of blood ran past her lips.
Was I too late?
There was only one way to find
out.
I yanked the crystal out of her chest and, ignoring Rocky’s cry of pain, I bent over, letting my tears fall on her gaping, bloody wound.
Her body shook, and her breath rattled in her chest. Panic consumed me. Did I do it right? My father had been unconscious, so this should have worked even better on someone who was already conscious.
Then I remembered. My tears had fallen directly in his mouth. Maybe that was the secret.
I leaned over and got right in my friend’s face. “You’re not going to die,” I rasped. “I won’t let you.” Then I blinked hard, making more tears fall… inside her open mouth.
Rocky’s eyes grew wide, and, for a moment, I thought that was the look of someone whose heart had just stopped in their chest. Instead, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and I held mine until she sighed on an exhale. Her gaze, still bewildered but in a good way, locked on mine. “Wha—?”
Her eyes widened again, and she ducked her chin. My gaze followed hers to where her open wound had begun mending, the skin smoothing over in what was the closest thing I’d ever seen to a miracle. That was saying something, since the bone marrow transplant I’d received from my mother was the only reason I was here right now.
My mother.
She had made this possible. If it weren’t for saving my life, I’d have never had the ability to save my friend. A chimera, Dad had called me… something to do with the mixing of our DNA. It was also her insistence that I was given a supernatural power in the first place.
More tears fell from my eyes. And for the first time since she died, they were for her.
Rocky choked out a cough. “Did… did you do that?”
Nodding, I peeled my eyes from the scientific wonder and examined her face. She’d regained some of her color, and the glassy look was gone from her eyes. I knew, deep down in my bones—or in my DNA, it would seem—that Rocky would survive.
The joy I felt was one of the greatest feelings in the world. I wished I could bottle it up for the dark days ahead—dark days that began with golf claps and Mr. Fletcher’s voice behind my head. “Well done, my dear.”
I gave Rocky a small smile that I hoped would reassure her, and then I turned around.