by May Dawson
“Yeah, let’s do that. Right now,” I said. “Because you telling me not to be scared is really just freaking me out. That is not effective.”
“Sorry,” he said, but he glanced down the road. His eyes stared at something in the distance, and his jaw set in response.
I followed his line of vision and saw a white panel van turn down the road. I turned back to him, a question already on my lips.
He was gone.
I banged on the door again, watching as the van slowly rolled down the road. It was probably a carpet cleaner or an HVAC company. Perfectly ordinary. But Ryker’s words had set me on edge.
The van didn’t even come to a stop before the side hatch flew open. An enormous man, tall and broad and heavy, jumped out onto the pavement. He looked around briefly, getting his bearings, and his gaze settled on me.
Behind him, a second man jumped out. This one didn’t hesitate; he followed the first man, who was barreling across the lawn.
My stomach twisted.
Don’t fight them, Ryker had said.
I didn’t trust him either.
I turned and ran for the side of the porch. As soon as I planted my hand on the smooth wood, I heaved myself over the porch railing. My feet hit the grass hard, my knees buckling, and I caught myself, kneeling, before I pushed off again. My ankle throbbed like I had twisted it.
I ran so hard that my chest strained and my legs ached, my arms pumping, and then someone tackled me from behind. Hard. Tackled me. My head thumped into the dirt, all the force of my body behind it. I almost somersaulted. The man came down heavily on top of me. I scrambled in the grass, trying to get my knees beneath me.
A beefy arm wrapped around my throat. I breathed in a bad scent for a second, sweet cologne and oniony body odor, and then he squeezed. I could still draw ragged breaths, but his bicep was pressed into one side of my neck and his forearm on the other. My fingers scrabbled at his muscular arm, trying to get free, but I couldn’t break loose
“Don’t hurt the girl,” someone said.
“It’s just a blood choke.” The voice was close, in my ear. “And even so. Don’t kill the girl. Be precise.”
“I guess you’re right.” The other voice was amused. “She’s going to get hurt a whole lot.”
I raked my fingernails against this guy’s arms and heard him grunt in pain. I was trying to draw blood. To mark him. To shove my DNA under his fingernails. If I disappeared forever as if the hand of God had plucked me out of this sleepy suburb, maybe someday, someone would figure out what had happened to me.
The world went dark.
Chapter Two
When I woke up, my head felt thick and foggy. Blindingly bright light stung my eyes, so I squeezed them shut. Cool air moved steadily over my face, carrying a faintly chemical scent. My arms were tight against my chest.
I wouldn’t have thought I could wake up worse off than last time, when I woke up in a room on fire, but as I blinked at the white canvas covering my arms and chest, I realized that things had gotten worse.
Straightjacket. I was wearing a straightjacket.
My head still felt so heavy, my neck aching, and I picked my head up with effort, my eyes watering as I tried to take in the room despite the vivid sunlight. I was in a long, white room, lying in the only bed, near an enormous open window. Long flimsy white curtains fluttered softly in the breeze. My nostrils flared, breathing in the scent of the room, and now the chemical smell made sense. It was fresh paint.
Where the hell was I?
All my memories of the night flooded back, and I squeezed my eyes shut again. No, no, no. This had to be another nightmare. My mother hadn’t really called men to kidnap me from our front yard. She hadn’t really locked me out of the house so I would be an easy target.
And gorgeous, mysterious Ryker had to be a figment of my imagination.
I kept my eyes shut, willing this world away. When I finally cracked an eyelid, it was still all there: white ceiling, white room, and white curtains partially blocking my view of a clear, bright blue sky.
I struggled to sit, but without my arms, all I managed was to roll across the bed until I planted my bare feet on the ground. I still wore the same pink sleep shorts I’d worn to bed the night before. Dirt and blood were caked across my knees.
I stumbled towards the window. My heart was hammering in my chest. I had to get out of here. My mother wouldn’t have sent me on purpose to a place where people would hurt me. But she had made a mistake. And now I had to get loose and get free.
My arms bumped against the hard wooden trim around the window, and I leaned forward into the open window.
Cool air caressed my hot face. I was several stories up. My view was only treetops, and I looked down a dizzying distance to yellow, unkempt lawn below. I took a startled step back, afraid I’d accidentally fall out the window.
There was a hammering on the wall next to me, the sound of someone’s fist thumping against the thin wall between our rooms.
“Ellis? You awake yet?” The voice was muffled. Low. Husky. Panty-dropping under other circumstances.
Ryker.
“What’s happening?” I demanded. I was on the verge of tears, but my voice came out stronger than I would have expected. I blinked hard, looking up at the ceiling, willing the tears away.
“You’ve been kidnapped by the same people who took me and my brother,” he said. “You’re going to be okay. Don’t panic.”
“Don’t panic?” I hissed. “I’m wearing a straightjacket! There’s no way around panicking!”
“Stay strong, Ellis.”
“You told me you’d answer all my questions—”
“Not now,” he interrupted. “Tonight.”
“Not now!” I exploded. “You told me to wait until I was kidnapped by those assholes—”
“It’s not like you listened to me anyway.”
It was hard to tell through the wall, but I could’ve sworn he sounded amused. Amused was not an appropriate reaction to everything that had happened to me in the last twenty-four hours.
“Were you watching?” I asked. “Were you in the van?”
“No,” he said. “I wasn’t in the van. I wasn’t there at all, Ellis.”
I frowned. I wondered if someone was listening in on us, and he didn’t want them to know he’d been there. But then, I couldn’t trust him, either. “What is this place?”
“It’s a reformatory for Specials like us. Or at least, that’s what your mama thinks. It’s also a haunted old insane asylum. So that ups the fun factor.”
I shook my head. “I’m not crazy. And I’m not special. I don’t know why I’m here.”
“You are most likely both those things,” he said.
I rested my elbows on the windowsill, looking out at the green trees. We were surrounded by a lush forest. I wished I was walking through it right now on my way back to civilization. Civilization didn’t have much sanity to offer. But it was better than this.
“Let’s start over,” I said. “What’s your full name? Why are you here?”
I wouldn’t trust him, but I was curious.
“Ryker Alexander. And I’m here for the same reason you are.” He paused. For dramatic effect. If there hadn’t been a wall between us, I would’ve punched him. “They want us to unlock the secrets of the supernatural.”
I almost laughed. “What secrets of the supernatural?”
“You really have to ask me that, Firestarter?”
“That wasn’t me!”
“It wasn’t the smokes either, was it?”
“I don’t smoke.” I snapped back.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“But I didn’t start that fire. It must have been a bad electrical connection or something…”
“Sounds good,” he said agreeably. “Too bad nobody believes that.”
I rested my forehead against the cool white casing of the window. “I’m supposed to start college in a few months.”
“Maybe you’r
e not college material.”
“Maybe you’re not a very nice person.” I squeezed my eyes shut, willing this all away. “My mom said it would only be for the summer. That she got to choose where I’d spend my summer.”
“You’re absolutely right.” It was a woman’s voice, soft and lilting; she had a distinct southern accent. I turned in surprise.
In the doorway stood a woman in a doctor’s white coat, her sleeves pushed up above slender wrists and a man’s chunky gold watch. She wore jeans and brown hiking boots, and her long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, emphasizing her sharp but feminine features.
“I’m Dr. Parrish,” she said, starting to extend her hand to shake mine, and then her eyes widened, her lip parting, as she took in the straightjacket. “I’m so sorry. Let’s get you out of that now.”
I turned my back on her, and she quickly closed the distance between us. The straightjacket tugged against my chest as she worked at the fastenings. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. Think, Ellis, think. My head felt foggy, like I needed a cup of coffee and a hot shower. I might say the wrong thing, things I couldn’t take back later. I pressed my lips together tightly. I didn’t want to make a mistake and find myself locked away forever.
“Don’t fall for it, Ellis,” Ryker said.
“Oh, be quiet, Ryker,” she said. “You’ll get the chance to tell your little stories tonight.”
The warm canvas weight slipped off my shoulders. I pushed the sleeves down hastily. I never wanted to wear that thing again.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “Sometimes they get a little…carried away…if you put up a fight. You must have been frightened.”
“Yeah.” Still was.
Her face was sympathetic. “Your mother didn’t think you would come here willingly.”
“Not so much, no.” I kneaded my shoulders, which tingled with pins-and-needles. My fingers felt numb, and I shook my hands back and forth. “You kidnapped me. Why? Why am I here?”
She shook her head. “I know it must feel that way, but we didn’t kidnap you. Your mother is so worried about you, Ellis. She’s been in touch with us a few times, but last night? The fire you started? She asked us to come right away to help you.”
Her face was smooth, unlined, even though she looked older. She didn’t wear any makeup, and her eyes were wide with sincerity.
“How are you going to help me?” I couldn’t help my lips quirking up in a smirk at the strange question; I wasn’t sure these people were here to help me one bit.
“I’m going to help you find Ashley,” she said.
My lips fell open. Ash, Ash, Ash, running away in my dreams, satin slipping through my fingers.
How did she know?
“When you find her,” she said, “in the other world. Then you’ll be able to take control of your powers. But for now, you’re too lost in your grief and bitterness to own your power.”
“What powers?”
“You’re very special,” she said fondly. “We don’t know exactly what powers you’ll have in the end, not yet. For now, it’s clear that you can manipulate manner. Because of the fires. Which makes us think that, with effort, focus, and training, you could manipulate other forms of matter.”
“Other forms of matter?” Water. Air. Earth. “I think I’ve read this comic book before.”
Dr. Parrish said, “I know it’s a lot to take in. But you know something’s been different since your sister’s accident.”
“It wasn’t just her accident.” I leaned against the window frame, crossing my arms over my chest. “It was my accident too.”
“But you walked away. The first time your gifts manifested.” She suddenly leaned forward, animated, to take my wrist and tug me away from the window. “Please come away from there. You’re making me nervous. I don’t want to watch you fall to your death.”
“You sound like such a mom,” I said, because she reminded me of my own mother, in the good old days when my mother loved me enough to scold me.
“I am a mom,” she said. She seemed to hesitate and then said, “Come on, Ellis. Do you want me to show you around?”
“I’d love a tour,” I deadpanned. “And then can I leave?”
She gave me a long look, then swept towards the door. She held it open, and I followed her.
We walked through the hall. It was just one short hallway, with a nurse’s station at the end before heavy blue wooden doors. I eyed the door, but didn’t make a break for it. Not quite yet. I wanted to know more about this crazy story about finding my dead sister. I knew it was bullshit, but I still felt a lurch of hope.
There was a day room, with a TV in one corner, a leather sectional, a small bookcase with yard-sale paperbacks and DVDs, and a kitchen table with four chairs. I poked around the room, looking at the peeling covers of the paperbacks, and then turned around. “There aren’t many of us here, are there?”
“Not yet,” she said.
“Is that what you want? You’re trying to collect a bunch of people you think have…” I couldn’t bring myself to say powers.
She nodded. “It’s so exciting. I never thought we’d see proof, tangible proof, of parallel dimensions in our lifetime—”
“Dimensions?”
“I’ll explain it all in your classes,” she said. “We’ll start tomorrow. We want you to understand the physics behind your powers. To take control of them.”
“My mom seemed to think this was some kind of…camp for wayward girls.”
“It is,” she said. “In a manner of speaking. You’re a danger right now, Ellis. To yourself and others. But you won’t be when we’re done here. You’ll go back out into the world. You’ll go to college. You’ll be happy again.”
Her voice was soft and soothing, almost hypnotic.
I brushed my hand over my face. I couldn’t believe her. But I was fascinated by what she had to say. I had that nightmare every night and saw Ash running through the flames. I didn’t think my sister had gone to Heaven.
What if I could find her?
“Okay,” I said.
She stepped back out into the hallway, her hiking shoes squeaking against the linoleum. I followed her down the hall, where she pointed out the women’s bathroom.
“Actually, I need to…” I said. She nodded, and I pushed open the door.
I was in a big, green-tiled, windowless room. There were no locks on any of the stalls, just holes where the locks had been unscrewed. At the end of the room was an open-bay shower with multiple spigots. No curtains, no privacy.
My sense of creepy was back full-force.
I quickly did my business, holding the stall door shut with one finger hooked through the hole where the lock should have been. As I washed my hands at the bank of sinks, I looked into a mirror that seemed grimy with age. The girl who looked back at me had long reddish-brown hair that was a disheveled mess around my thin face; my cheekbones stood out starkly, and my dark blue eyes seemed lost. I used to be a pretty girl.
Now I looked like I’d been rolled around in soot and grass, and kidnapped, and generally had an epically bad Tuesday. I frowned at my reflection. Was it still Tuesday?
The frown made me look even worse, with my forehead crinkling with lines, and I tried to make myself smile into the mirror instead. I wet my fingers and combed quickly through my hair, and then splashed water on my face, clearing away the traces of dust.
I looked back up expecting things to be better, but I still looked wan.
And there was a ghost reflected next to me in the mirror.
Chapter Three
I screamed.
The ghost-face regarding me in the mirror was a pale circle of a face, the eyes and mouth and nose translucent outlines. I turned in a hurry, but there was no one behind me. I whirled again to face the ghost in the mirror, and before I could make out what I saw, ice-cold fingers brushed against my shoulder.
I ran for the door, my feet slipping over the tile.
/> The door burst open. Dr. Parrish ran in. Her eyes were wide, and she stopped between me and the door. “What’s going on?”
I shoulder checked her. I didn’t mean to, but nothing could get me to break my stride and stay in that room; I pushed her out of the way and skidded out into the fluorescent-lit hallway. From the side of my eye, I saw her stumble and catch herself.
Then she ran after me, so close I could feel her shoe catch my bare heel. I stumbled, my hands hitting hard against the opposite wall. I felt the shock travel up my arms and jar my shoulders, but at least I was out of that windowless trap.
“Ellis! What is it?” She demanded.
I faced her, my heart still pounding wildly in my chest. “I thought I saw a ghost.”
Instead of doubting me, her lips quirked up in the faintest smile. Then she went serious, her eyes narrowing and lips tightening. That micro-expression was the real one, though, I was sure of it. She was happy I’d seen something.
“Maybe it was nothing,” I said. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sleep shorts. “Why don’t we just finish the tour?”
“What’s all that screaming like a little girl?” Ryker asked from the end of the hall. He leaned against a white cement wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Usually, that’s Tom’s department.”
“Nurse Tom,” Dr. Parrish corrected.
“You say that,” Ryker said, “as if it’s going to sound any more respectful coming from my lips.”
Speaking of Ryker’s lips. Even with my heart hammering, I couldn’t help but notice the way his lush pink lips formed into a smirk, the corners of his mouth turning up. His lips were soft, not like the rest of his hard-angled, masculine face. I wanted to see him smile nicely. That mean smirk was the only expression I’d seen from him since we met. But I was willing to bet Ryker had a nice smile when he was genuine.
“Come on,” Dr. Parrish said. “Come meet the boys.”
Okay. The creepy ghosts were just a thing that happened around here. We could all just move on.