Harbinger

by Emme DeWitt

  I looked around the bathroom, finding the wallpaper a horrifying parade of painted ducks.

  Evangeline reappeared with a brown paper bag almost as tall as she was. She rolled the sides down, offering it out to me.

  “Strip,” Evangeline commanded, waving the yard waste bag at me.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “Everything you’re wearing. In here.” Evangeline made the bag dance merrily. “I’m going to toss it in the incinerator.”

  “Incinerator,” I repeated numbly.

  “Yeah, starting a fire in an abandoned building would be a big neon flashing sign saying criminal activity here.” Evangeline shifted her weight impatiently. “Hurry up.”

  “You think it’ll work?” I asked, suspicious at a plan I hadn’t come up with myself. What if she hadn’t thought through everything properly? My mind buzzed numbly at the horror.

  “Incinerator starts cranking at five. At this rate, I’ll have to run to the incinerator and hope for the best when I run to get you more clothes. Unless you’d rather not be fully clothed when they arrest you with a bag of evidence,” Evangeline mused aloud. Her eyes trailed around the bathroom. “And you’re right. Those ducks are creepy as hell.”

  I opened my mouth to question the rest of the plan, but Evangeline dropped the bag and walked out of the room.

  “Wait!” I called after her, pausing only slightly to say goodbye to my boots before they were tossed into the bag. The cape coat was next and then the borrowed shoes. The soaked layers of clothes took more time to maneuver, but I was able to de-robe at record pace.

  Until I realized I was fully in the buff with no towel, no clothes, and, to my dismay, no shower curtain.

  “Uh, Evangeline,” I called into the hallway. “You got a towel out there?”

  “Depends,” she shot back. “Do you need one?”

  “Or something similar,” I hurled back. “Also, you’re going to have to come get this bag if you don’t want my bloody footprints all over the cabin.

  “Incoming!” Evangeline sprinted into the bathroom.

  My arms jerked to cover myself a little belatedly, but Evangeline was laser focused on grabbing the bag and dropping a pile of something on the toilet.

  The dark curtain of hair was still swinging to follow the rest of Evangeline out to the hall when she called back to me.

  “There’s your towel. I recommend a series of baths. If you make me come back and bleach the entire bathroom from top to bottom, you’ll be in big trouble,” she warned.

  I stuck my tongue out in her direction.

  “I’m going to ignore that. You have twenty minutes, and then you’ve got to be ready to go,” Evangeline said.

  “You bringing me something to wear?” I asked. “Or would you prefer for me to streak across campus.”

  “I’ll see how I feel,” Evangeline quipped, the crinkle of the paper bag disappearing.

  The front door shut again, the vibrations shaking the whole house.

  “At least I’ll know if someone’s coming,” I muttered darkly to the ducks. They stared back at me with their darkly lined lashes. I grabbed for the faucet, wincing at the shriek of metal against metal.

  Water gurgled from the pipes, and my hands cupped under the powerful flow to test the temperature. My eyes caught on the waterfall of pink turned red as my hands were the first to shed their coat of drying blood. I put a stopper in the tub, letting the tepid water creep up around my crouched frame.

  Evangeline had been right about the series part of her bath recommendation. As I scrubbed the first several layers of skin cells off my entire body, I tried not to focus on the color of the bathwater until I could mostly see the yellow tint bouncing back at me.

  A sliver remained of a bar of bright green soap that had melded itself to the corner of the tub. Before I could calculate the germs that could be living on the dusty old bar, I grabbed it, letting the suds catch the remaining streaks of blood. My hair hung limply down my back, the curls destroyed by the vicious rubbing I’d been doing to try to get all the blood out of their every nook and cranny.

  I could only imagine the payback I would get once my hair dried.

  As I squeezed out the remaining water from my deflated mane, I let the water drain. I hoped gravity would pull any remaining evidence down the drain with it, but I knew Evangeline had been serious about the bleaching. I broke the remaining shard of soap into tiny pieces and shoved them down the drain as well. Better a forgotten piece of soap than a half-used one with blood splatter on it.

  I sighed, standing in the tub. I let the cool air partially dry me. Even though Evangeline had left something for a towel, I didn’t like the idea of sitting in a soaking wet towel. I dreamt of a warm fluffy bathrobe fresh from the dryer.

  Instead, I got a moth-eaten blanket the color of expired oatmeal.

  Careful not to slip on the bare floor, I stepped out of the tub and wrapped the oversized blanket around me like a burrito toga. I shuffled into the cabin proper and out of the line of sight of the prying duck eyes. Ig’s green eyes greeted me.

  Out of nowhere, the room started to spin. I crouched down, half falling, half leaning against the wall of the small hallway. The last thing I saw was a flash of green before the darkness took me again.

  Twenty-One

  I popped back into my dreamscape for the third time in less than twenty-four hours.

  I let out a frustrated scream, clawing at my hair.

  “What the hell is happening to me?” I yelled into the void.

  No one answered.

  My foot lashed out at the fog but found it had nothing to kick up. My hands stilled in my hair, bracing against my temples as I surveyed what was in front of me.

  It was an odd half-light, just like the dawn and dusk hours; the dreamscape seemed to be transitioning between shadow and light. I’d never been here at this time.

  My hands dropped to my sides as I looked out across the landscape. Slowly the night visitors flickered out of existence. As the sky lightened, the fog I was so accustomed to seeing faded slowly into nothingness. The movement of the night visitors waved like a mirage, the light destroying any proof of their existence until the middle ground was just as clear as the sky.

  A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Something was materializing.

  Colm’s broad shoulders appeared, leading the rest of his silhouette into existence. He smiled at me, eagerly closing the distance. My jaw dropped. I wondered if I looked that confident when I materialized into the nighttime dreamscape. A sarcastic voice in the recesses of my mind laughed, imagining me kicking and screaming instead. It wasn’t wrong.

  “What are you doing here?” Colm’s blue eyes locked in on mine.

  “Same old, same old,” I replied lamely.

  Colm cocked his head to the side, as if picking up on my distress. “What’s wrong?” he asked, grabbing for my hand boldly.

  I let my fingers slip out of his reach as soon as he’d caught them.

  “Sean’s dead,” I blurted out, turning my face so I wouldn’t see Colm’s expression.

  “What?” Colm asked. “Which Sean?”

  “I don’t know.” My stomach dropped. “Practice Room Sean. I can’t believe I don’t even know what his last name is. I’m a horrible person.”

  “Hey.” Colm laid his hand on my shoulder. “Just tell me what happened.”

  I shook my head, unable to stop once I started.

  “I don’t know. That’s the problem.” I itched to move my shoulder out from under Colm’s hand. “I think it might have been me.”

  “Noah, I’m sure it was just an accident,” he said. “You would never purposefully hurt someone.”

  A laugh escaped me, and I found the strength to pull my shoulder away from him.

  “You don’t know that.” I met his worried gaze. “I don’t even know that.”

  “You really don’t seem like someone who just goes after people,” he said. “Fine. You’d n
eed a reason. A damn good reason. Do you have a good reason to hurt Sean?”

  I snorted.

  “To kill him, Colm. He’s dead,” I said, my frustration distorting my voice. “Sean is dead.”

  “What would be your end game?” Colm pushed me to answer. “What could killing Sean possibly do for you?”

  “Nothing!” I shouted at him, my voice burning with anger. Tears filled my eyelids, and I kicked myself inwardly. “Killing him would be pointless!”

  “To you, maybe.” He stepped forward to press both his hands against my upper arms. “But not to someone else.”

  I let my mind take in the comforting pressure of Colm’s steadying hands. Somehow, he was keeping me from exploding into a thousand pieces. I hated the comfort. I hated that I needed it.

  I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. After several tries and even more deep breaths, it wouldn’t budge. When I was able to speak again, my voice burned.

  “I hate this,” I said.

  Colm’s face recoiled as if he’d been slapped.

  I clapped my hand over my throat, my eyes burning an apology into his forehead.

  “This?” he asked, his eyes darting around the dreamscape. “It’s kind of awesome.”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re going to figure it out.” A wide smile punctuated his simple platitude. “You’re the only expert around here. If anyone’s going to crack the case wide open, it’ll be you.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, and his laugh filled the emptiness of the day-lit dreamscape.

  “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be here,” I said, breaking my silence. My throat still burned, and Colm winced at my words.

  “How can I leave you now?” His hands squeezed me in reassurance. “I can help.”

  “I think you’ll have to sit this one out.” I flinched at his pained reaction. My hand gripped tighter around my throat. “See? I can’t even control my own voice.”

  “I’m fine,” he lied, a brave smile on his face.

  “Shut up,” I said dismissively, the words distorted with my banshee voice.

  Colm’s lips pressed shut. The look of surprise was comical, and I chuckled.

  “Stop playing around,” I gurgled.

  Colm’s brows furrowed, his mouth working to open again.

  But it couldn’t.

  “Holy shit.” My fingers reached out to touch his lips. They had been sealed shut.

  I stepped back, keeping as much distance as I could from Colm.

  “What did I do?” I whispered, the grating voice echoing back to my own ears, making me blanch with guilt.

  Colm’s arms hung in the air where my shoulders had been. His palms were out in a reassuring stance, like I was a skittish deer about to bolt.

  He wasn’t too far off. I felt like running as far away as I could. Guilt weighed down my feet, but my mind raced ahead.

  “See? This is why you can’t be here.” I hugged my torso tightly. “Last night, I was convinced you were gone. Then, I woke up and Sean was dead instead. You can’t be near me. You need to leave.”

  Colm stepped forward, his blue eyes pleading with me. I didn’t know what he was trying to say, but I was thankful I could ignore it just as easily. I’d made up my mind, and I wouldn’t have to hear any arguments about it.

  I took a deep, steadying breath and counted to three.

  “I’m sending you back,” I told Colm, my eyes lingering on his locked lips as he fought to say something. “You can yell at me when we see each other next.”

  I stepped back a few more strides, shaking the loose nerves from my limbs.

  My previous words had planted an idea in my mind. Testing my theory would either yield the result I expected or completely backfire in my face. I counted to three slowly, pushing all the possible negative side effects to the side in my mind.

  On the count of three, I gathered all the breath I could hold and screamed my command.

  “Go!”

  The burning feeling in my throat grew the longer I held the scream. Eventually, as it had before, the scream took over far beyond what I could power on my own. Unfortunately, this meant I had an extended viewing of the effect my scream had on Colm.

  He’d figured out what I was about to do as soon as I drew breath. He’d braced against the impact, but his mind was quickly overwhelmed. He dropped to his knee, his hands covering his ears, twisting away from the scream like he was fighting a gale force wind.

  Slowly, he faded, just like the other night visitors had in the early morning light.

  Colm’s head jerked up when he was almost completely faded.

  My scream was so loud in my own ears I couldn’t hear anything else. As he slipped away, his essence unknitting itself from the dreamscape, his mouth was finally able to open again.

  Colm’s eyes met mine, and he let loose his own scream.

  “Noah!” his lips read just as he blinked out of existence completely.

  The ground shook as soon as the last of him disappeared. The dreamscape slammed the door, knocking the vacuum of energy back in my face. My scream died in my throat, and I dropped to the ground.

  I rested my forehead against the brittle grass, trying to find the energy to get back up.

  The realization that I’d successfully kicked Colm out of the day-lit dreamscape filled me with relief. Until the thought swung heavily the other way. I’d sent him away, but where had he ended up?

  I sighed into the grass. I tried to push myself back up, but my balance lurched to the side, my senses overcome with one extreme bout of vertigo.

  The ground cradled me as I collapsed onto my side, and the darkness took me.

  Twenty-Two

  I woke up on my back. This wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary if I wasn’t staring at an unfamiliar labyrinth of cracked and rotten plaster. My shoulder blades protested as they braced against an unforgiving hard surface. My butt tingled to life as well as I tried to take stock of my extremities. Nothing seemed broken or missing, but it did vaguely feel as if I’d been hit by a bus.

  My head felt swollen and waterlogged. I sat up slowly, swaying as the pressure of a low-grade migraine threatened to pull me back down into the fetal position. I tucked my legs underneath me so the steadiness of my crossed legs would give me a solid foundation. My hands slid over the slick fabric of my favorite running tights.

  I looked down, patting at my clothed limbs. My running tights led down to socks and running shoes. I could feel the tightness of a sports bra underneath my shirt and jacket. Even my hair was pulled back by my go-to headband.

  “Finally,” a voice sighed.

  Evangeline stood with her arms crossed, one hand clutching a chipped ceramic mug to her chest.

  “I was debating if I should wake you,” Evangeline said. “My reflexes aren’t that good, and I don’t have time to get x-rays today.”

  “What time is it?” I asked, patting down my pockets for my phone.

  Evangeline whistled at me, giving me enough of a heads up to catch my phone before it smacked me in the nose.

  “Later than I’d like.” Evangeline sighed.

  I noticed Ig weaving around her ankles idly, and I flinched when I saw it was nearly seven.

  “You need to get going ASAP.”

  “How did I…” I trailed off, patting myself down. The last thing I remembered before the dreamscape was passing out in the poorly wrapped mass of blanket Evangeline had left me.

  “I knew playing with Barbies would pay off later in life,” Evangeline mused. “Didn’t realize I would be dressing unconscious bodies when I grew up, but I guess it could be worse.”

  “I’m not sure how,” I grumbled, crossing my arms uncomfortably across my chest. The whole ordeal was unpleasant to think about.

  “I should be the one complaining.” Evangeline wielded her coffee mug at me. “You’re the one who works out in skintight clothing. Could you choose something easier next time, like a sundress or a baggy sweater?”
>
  “For running?” I asked, shooting Evangeline an amused look. “Sure, no problem. I’ll get right on that.”

  Evangeline stuck her tongue out at me. Even Ig paused to give me an unimpressed look.

  “Why am I in my running clothes?” I asked, crawling slowly to my feet. Waves of pain shot down my limbs from my tender head.

  “You’re going on an early morning run. That way, you coming from the woods isn’t weird, and your desperate need for a cleansing shower isn’t out of character.” Evangeline grabbed her bag from the counter. “I already dropped off your bag in your room when I grabbed your clothes. Thank God Mags still snores like a lumberjack. I’m surprised you can sleep, even with two walls between you.”

  Ig led the way to the door, and Evangeline stopped to wait for me.

  “Coming?”

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “I barely know you.”

  Evangeline regarded me thoughtfully. “I’m a pretty good judge of character,” she said. “I don’t think about it too much. You needed help. So I helped.”

  “What’s in it for you?” I asked. “No one’s that selfless.”

  “You’ve heard the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” Evangeline said.

  I nodded, a little taken aback at the old saying. Somehow, I only imagined gangsters living by such a code.

  “That’s the best explanation I can give you right now. Can you trust me?”

  Evangeline held the door open for me. She stared back at me as I tried to parse out if it was trust I was feeling or some sort of guilt-ridden duty.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she dropped her gaze to answer it.

  “Yeah,” Evangeline said into the phone, bracing the door against her back. “Trying. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  During a long pause, Evangeline rolled her eyes at the monologue on the other side.

  “If you don’t hang up right now, how am I supposed to finish my errand?” Evangeline said. She glanced over to me, inclining her head outside into the woods.

  She covered the microphone of her phone.

  “You need a head start anyway,” Evangeline said. “Do two loops of campus. Keep to the tree line. After you shower and change, I’ll meet you on the porch. They’re going to keep us in the dining hall once we enter based on the emergency plan. Don’t talk to anyone if you can help it.”