by K M Frost
The girl must recognize the undercurrent too. She straightens, but doesn’t attack. “I’m Becka.” She juts her chin toward the kid on her right. “This is Jeremy, Sam, Lora, and Rahel.” The last name sounds like raw-hull.
I look twice and decide that Rahel is a girl. Her black hair is choppy, like she cut it with a knife and no mirror, and her entire image is intimidating—despite the fact that she is no taller than Stewart.
They’re a scary-looking bunch.
I realize for the first time just how lucky I was that Rick, Leah, and Stewart found me. To think I could have been stuck in a group like this one . . . It gives me the creeps just thinking about it.
Becka’s eyes harden. “Now, you will answer my question. Do you have any idea where you are?”
Rick shrugs, surprisingly calm.
Personally, I’m freaking out more than a little bit, but if he’s worried he doesn’t let it show.
“That’s a vague question, Becka. I mean, I know we’re in the Reality Dreams,”—he raises one finger like he’s counting—“I know we’re in a forest,”—he raises a second finger, but Becka interrupts before he can finish, clearly annoyed.
“Do you know what that is?” She points a long finger in the direction of the city. We’re far enough away we can’t make out any details, but just seeing the silhouettes of those towering buildings makes me shudder.
Leah quirks an eyebrow. “A creepy city?”
I’m totally surprised with how calmly she and Rick are taking all of this, and I start to wonder if maybe I’m overreacting.
Suddenly, there’s a knife in Leah’s face, right under her chin.
She yelps in surprise and then pain when the point of the blade breaks skin.
“Hey!” Rick and I shout, and hurry to intervene.
Rick pushes the knife away and glares at Becka.
Leah stumbles back a step and I catch her before she can fall. I have no idea how bad the cut is, but she waves my help away, muttering that she’s alright.
I hesitate when I see a line of blood sliding down her pale neck, but she shrugs me away, and I turn my attention to Becka, who looks as outraged as I feel.
Rick’s shouting, and I realize belatedly that most of his words are pretty offensive. At least, they wouldn’t be allowed at school, and they would definitely not be allowed in my house.
Before I can feel too uncomfortable, the shouts fizzle out to quiet fuming.
“She had it coming,” Becka growls through gritted teeth. “Maybe now she’ll keep her mouth shut while the grownups are talking.”
I can almost feel Leah’s fury, but Rick tosses her a warning look before she can retort. With great effort, she closes her mouth and swallows the rejoinder, though I can see just how difficult it is for her.
Rick turns back to Becka, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. “Now, are you going to tell us what that city is, or am I going to have to go find out for myself?”
Obviously, I know he’s bluffing—none of us will ever go back there again—but Becka hesitates. I realize she’s not hesitating out of worry for us, but because of how tempting that idea seems to her.
With a shock, I understand that she would let us walk right to our deaths, and just stand back and watch.
But then she casts a glance at the city in the distance and makes up her mind. “That’s the Entity city. There’re swarms of them all over the place. If you’re not careful, they’ll corner you and that’s the end of that.”
Her voice is hard, and I wonder if maybe these other Dreamers lost a friend in the city, too.
Becka clenches her fists and jaw. “Just stay away from there.”
Rick nods, though his jaw is tight, too. “Thanks for the warning.”
Becka gives a half nod, never taking her eyes off us. Then she gestures to her companions, and they drift away from us, loosening the tight circle they’d formed.
I hadn’t realized just how confined I felt with them surrounding us, but now that the way is open, I breathe deeply, relief flooding through me.
Without any kind of farewell, Becka leads the other Reality Dreamers away, heading back into the trees, away from the city.
As soon as they’re out of sight, Rick moves to Leah’s side. “Let me see it.” His voice is firm, but kind. I’ve never heard Rick use that tone before—it reminds me of my mom in a way.
Leah purses her lips darkly. “It’s not that bad.” She almost sounds embarrassed.
Rick ignores her and tips her head back so he can see the cut beneath her chin.
Leah chokes at the movement. “Well now it hurts.”
Rick ignores her and takes a good look at the cut. I take a step closer and see that, though there is blood, the cut isn’t too bad.
“Oh, knock it off!” Leah huffs and pushes his hands away.
Rick replies with a sideways grin. “Glad to see you’re not dying, Leah.”
She only glares.
“Um,” Stewart says quietly.
I look down in surprise. Then I feel terrible. In all the excitement of the encounter with the other Reality Dreamers, I’d forgotten Stew was there, he was so quiet.
He looks at the trees, visibly shaking. “Can we keep going?”
I put my hand on his shoulder and force a smile. “Sure, buddy.”
Rick takes his cue and returns to leading us again. I walk next to Stewart and try to coax him into a conversation. He’s really shaken by the meeting with the other Reality Dreamers, but after a minute he’s talking so fast his mouth can hardly keep up. I listen to his stories about school and his parents and Edison, his pet chinchilla.
It’s nice to just talk after so much insanity. So much has happened, but Stewart can still make me smile with his stories.
Though they don’t join in, I know Rick and Leah are both listening to me and Stewart.
Rick never slows or hesitates, and I wonder if he knows the way back to Rogue’s shelter—I sure don’t. I don’t know if I dare ask him, though. One thing I’ve learned about Rick: he doesn’t like it when his leadership is questioned.
Instead, after Stewart’s latest story comes to a close, I excuse myself and move to Leah’s side.
I fall into step beside her a little anxiously. “Hey. How’s your neck?”
She huffs and tosses me a dark look. “You know, it’s not like I’ve never bled before. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. I was just asking.”
Wow, she doesn’t handle wounded pride well.
She mutters something too low for me to hear. She still looks irritated, but she doesn’t hit me, so I figure she’s not too mad.
I continue warily. “So, how close would you say the shelter is from here?”
She glances up at me and then away with a shrug. “Rick’s leading. We’re fine as long as he doesn’t foul up.”
Even if she doesn’t know where we’re going, Leah will never admit it. Her pride’s been stomped on enough for one night.
Stewart is at Rick’s side now and they’re talking. Since they’re occupied, I decide to ask Leah something that’s been nagging at me since we ran into the other Reality Dreamers.
I speak carefully, hoping she won’t explode. “Leah. I’ve been wondering . . .”
She doesn’t look up, but she doesn’t lash out either, so I keep going.
“When we ran into Becka and the other Dreamers, it reminded me of something I’ve been wondering about for a long time.”
She finally looks up at me, and luckily most of the irritation has faded from her expression, replaced with mild curiosity.
I hesitate for one more second, and then I plunge ahead. “The first time we met . . . I mean, before I knew who you were—”
“You mean when I attacked you?” Her tone is mocking, but she looks a little sheepish.
I wave that detail away, not willing to be distracted from my question. “You asked me who’s side I was on, and you said I could have killed you all.” Suddenly, I can’
t hold her gaze, and I look down at my feet. “I was just wondering . . . What did you mean?”
Leah doesn’t answer for a few seconds, and she doesn’t look at me. I watch her from the corner of my eye. She’s staring straight ahead, her face streaked with shadows. I wonder if she even remembers the encounter at all.
Finally, she speaks.
“Well, all I knew about you was that you stumbled into our cave with a bunch of Entities hot on your tail.” I think she’s trying to sound annoyed, but I can hear the fear that even the simple memory stirs up. “We thought for sure they would find us—you were leading them straight toward us. One of them grabbed you and you screamed.” Her voice isn’t at all mocking, but it does quiver.
She shrugs her shoulders, like she’s trying to shrug off the memory. “Then . . . I don’t know. The Entities just . . . let you go. Right after it grabbed you, it just dropped you and they ran away.” She shakes her head slowly. “I’ve never seen anything like it . . . Anyway, when we were sure the Entities weren’t coming back, we brought you into the cave. We wanted to ask you what had happened, find out who you were, but you were out.
“We waited for the rest of the night, hoping you’d wake up eventually, but you never did. We didn’t dare go outside—not with the Entities close—so it was a very long night. Then, the next day I was walking around Capernia, trying to get used to my new home. I stopped by the school and almost had a heart attack when I saw you. I couldn’t believe it. First you’d barged into the Reality Dreams and almost gotten us killed, then you had the nerve to show up at my school!”
I glance at her apprehensively, wondering just how angry she is. Then she tosses me an amused glance and I relax.
“I wanted to grab you right then in the schoolyard and demand answers, but I knew I’d never get away with it. Besides, my dad’s asked me to keep a low profile in Capernia. So I waited, telling myself I would get my answers that night in the Reality Dreams. But when I was walking home that night, I ran across you again. You were all alone, and I couldn’t resist the chance to get some answers. So I tackled you.”
I remember the annoyance and confusion I’d felt at the time, and I huff. “No. You just scratched me.”
Leah raises an eyebrow at me and grins. “Yeah, but I got your attention.”
I sheepishly push my hands into my pockets. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
Leah’s grin widens. “So you’re not a total idiot after all . . .”
I ignore her comment and wait to hear the rest of the story. But she seems like she’s done. “So, what did you mean about ‘who’s side are you on’?”
She shrugs. “I just figured you must be some strange Reality Dreamer who spends his nights leading Entities to other Dreamers. I wanted to know if there were more of your kind.”
“My kind?”
She makes it sound like I’m some kind of mutant.
“Yeah. And luckily for everyone, you’re the only one. We can only have so much stupidity in one group.”
I mutter some words my mom wouldn’t appreciate, but it just makes Leah laugh.
I decide that despite her teasing, I’m glad it was Leah, Rick, and Stewart who found me. I feel bad for Becka and her group, that they’ve fallen so far as to attack other Dreamers.
I’m not sure what exactly it is that we’re facing in the Reality Dreams, but I’m pretty sure we need to stick together if we’re going to have any chance at all.
Chapter 24
I woke up like I always did on a school day, and I didn’t remember that today was different until I dragged my book bag out to the kitchen and Mom frowned at me.
“Jonas, you can’t go to school today.”
I was about to ask her what she was talking about when I remembered that today I had a meeting with a counselor. It was my punishment for cutting school with Leah, and it sucked.
I tried to pretend like it didn’t bother me as I sat down to eat breakfast, but a few minutes later when Ellie left for school, I felt empty inside.
I never thought school could leave such an emptiness in me, and I was surprised at how much I missed walking with Ellie, teasing and laughing back and forth.
I tried to decide if I actually missed school, or if my depression came from knowing I was being punished for my actions. Either way, I watched Ellie walk away with a sour taste in my mouth.
Mom told me my counseling appointment wasn’t for another hour, so I went back to my room, having nothing better to do.
For the next hour I laid on my bed with a book, but I couldn’t focus enough to read.
My thoughts moved back and forth between the things that’d happened last night in the Reality Dreams, and what it would be like to meet with a counselor.
What would they ask me about? Would they say I couldn’t ever go back to school? Or worse, would they lock me up in a detention facility?
I’d heard stories about dark places where they put troublemakers and crazy people, and none of the stories said anything about a nice stay or eventual release.
I shook my head and tried not to think about that. Instead, I thought about the Reality Dreams.
We’d found a tiny cave—more of a crevice, really—and figured we probably wouldn’t find any place better before morning.
We still didn’t understand the connection between the Reality Dreams and our reality, but I felt like we’d definitely stumbled onto something important with what had happened to Rogue.
At last, Mom knocked on my door and brought me out of my troubling thoughts. We walked through town without saying a word. The silence was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to break it.
Mom just looked pale and emotional.
I tried to ignore the looks people tossed us as we made our way through town; I wondered how many of them knew I was going to see a counselor. I dreaded the thought of this spreading at school, but I knew it would.
I was almost relieved when the wide, red brick building came into view and offered me a distraction from my thoughts.
Then we walked inside.
Instantly, I wanted to be back in Rogue’s house, back in the Entity city—anywhere but here.
The walls were white, so bright it was almost hard to look at them. The wooden floors were smooth and painted white, and the only color in the reception area was on the people walking around. There were patients lounging on colorless sofas around the big room, and the counselors and staff milling around all wore brightly colored smocks.
The stark color was in such contrast with the white room and furniture, it was mesmerizing. I found myself staring at the colors that seemed to swirl around the room.
Finally, Mom tugged my arm and pulled me out of my trance.
We walked up to the white desk against the far wall where a middle-aged woman sat with a bright smile and an even brighter yellow smock.
“Good morning!” Her smile looked fake. “How can I help you?”
“We’re here for an appointment with a Counselor Gerrit.” Mom sounded reluctant and a little embarrassed. I hated that my mom was embarrassed of me.
The receptionist nodded happily, and a long fingernail that was painted to match her yellow smock slid down a stark white paper until she found my name. Even upside down, I could easily read it:
Jonas Hartley, Counselor Gerrit, Room 12.
The woman smiled up at us too brightly. “It looks like Counselor Gerrit is with another counselee. Please take a seat while you wait. And don’t hesitate to get to know the other counselees—everyone needs support in their struggle.” She smiled at me then, and I realized that she ranked me with the weirdos on the sofas. She thought I was just as troubled. The thought made me mad, but I knew better than to retort.
Mom smiled politely. “Thank you.”
We went to join the people sitting on the white sofas. Mom pointedly didn’t look at them. I guess they creeped her out, too.
Mom turned to face me. She looked nervous. That did nothing t
o help me stay calm.
“Alright, Jonas. They won’t let me sit in with you, so I need you to promise me you’ll behave. Just do what the counselor says. If you show them you’re responsible, they’ll let you go back to school.”
I nodded numbly. She was worried I would act out in front of a counselor and they’d force me to come back —or maybe she believed they’d send me to one of those awful facilities. I shivered at the thought.
Mom sat with me in silence for a few more minutes, and then the too-happy receptionist called my name.
Mom squeezed my hand, looking about as nervous as I felt, and stood up with me. “This is it. You’ll be fine.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced.
Trying not to think about her lack of confidence in me, I followed an attendant through a broad white door at the back of the room.
The hallway behind the door was wide and just as colorless as that first room. I followed the blue-smocked attendant down the hallway, counting doors silently as we passed them.
Eight, nine, ten, eleven . . .
The attendant came to a stop in front of the twelfth door.
“Here you are!” She had the same falsely-cheerful voice as the receptionist. “Counselor Gerrit will be along shortly. Please don’t touch anything.”
She pushed the door open and ushered me inside. Without another choice, I stepped inside and she closed the door behind me.
The room was just as white as the rest of this creepy place, but there was a green velvety sofa against one wall. Its calm shade was so different from the bright, unnatural colors I’d seen everywhere else, I instantly felt more relaxed. I even dared to walk over and sit on it while I waited.
A few minutes later, the door opened and I hurried to stand up.
Counselor Gerrit smiled when he saw my frantic motion. Unlike the other staff I’d seen, his smock was a calm color—blue, like the sky on a warm summer day.
A genuine smile lit his kind eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Jonas. That couch is all yours.”
He closed the door and then grabbed a plain brown chair from the corner of the room. He pulled it forward and set it down a few feet in front of me.