by Z Brewer
Caleb’s face went ghost white in realization. I almost felt guilty. “I’m sorry. I just—what about the Unseen Hands? Don’t they lurk in darkness? That’s what Lia told me. How can we sleep knowing they could attack us while we dream?”
“You still dream?” I looked around, but as far as I could tell, Caleb and I were alone. My heart began to race. “Look, the Unseen Hands don’t appear in moonlight. That’s one of the reasons we sleep near windows on moonlit nights. The other is that we can see without lighting a fire, so as not to attract Rippers.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Maybe I was just hoping I saw it in his eyes, but he looked a little embarrassed at his ignorance. “And on moonless nights? What then?”
I met his gaze with a deadpan expression. “Then . . . we trade off sleep and keep watch best we can. Moonless nights are the worst.”
“And the Screamers?”
“From what I’ve heard, we only have to worry about them during the day. Where’s Lia?”
After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, as if a lump had formed there. “How’s your arm?”
I snapped, “Where is Lia?”
“She’ll be back soon. She told me to keep an eye on you.”
“Well, good goin’, Caleb! You’ve barely known Lia for a day and managed to put her life in mortal peril. Way to go. Good guy. I can see why Lia seems to like you.” The pain from my wound sharpened with the smallest movement. I hugged my arm to my side and picked up my bat with my free hand. There was no way I was just going to trust that Lia was safe in the school. Especially not after dark. Especially not alone.
“Where do you think you’re going?” As he stood, he glanced down at my injured arm. “She seems to know what she’s doing. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“No. Lia won’t be fine.” I met his eyes with daggers. He had no business acting like he and Lia were close, like he knew her even a little. “Has she told you what happened to her mom during your lengthy friendship?”
His jaw tensed. “No, and it’s none of my business.”
“You’re right about that. But just so you get where you went wrong by letting Lia go to the school . . . Lia’s mom went there a few years back. We’re not sure why. Supplies, maybe. Curiosity. A death wish. But when she came out, she was different. Disconnected. Strange.” He wore a guilty expression, but I didn’t care. I got my bearings and headed out the door toward the high school. Caleb took a quick look around the room, as if debating his options, picked up a board with three nails sticking out of the end of it, and followed. I guess he’d taken my advice about carrying a weapon. “That lasted about six months. Then things got worse. Rumor has it that Coe can do many things, and I’ve heard more bad than good. Whatever Coe did to Lia’s mom, the experience ripped out everything that made her the person she was and left her catatonic for months.”
My heart raced at the memory of it all. Those hollowed eyes, sunken cheeks, mouth closed in an endless frown. The pain in my arm had added a sharpness to my tone, I was certain, but I couldn’t afford to scrounge up civility while my best friend was making what could be the worst decision she’d ever made. “One day her catatonic state just ceased. And then the nightmare really began. After that, she came after Lia relentlessly, flying, her feet inches above the ground. Sometimes the tips of her toes would scrape against the gravel until they dripped with blood. But it never fazed her. Whatever it was that she had become—that Coe had turned her into—it hunted Lia for months. It tried to kill her.”
Lia’s screams echoed through my memory as I navigated my way to the front door. The cool night air was a pleasant welcome as I stepped outside. I scanned the area, picturing the map in my head. The high school wasn’t far away. Two or three blocks and we’d be there. Hopefully in time to stop Lia from doing what I feared she meant to do.
Caleb walked alongside me in silence. As we passed a rusted stop sign on the corner, he found some words. “That’s messed up, what happened to her mom.”
Understatement of the year, Caleb.
“Yeah. But the really messed-up part is that Lia was forced to kill her own mother.” The image of Lia’s large eyes peering out from a face coated in her own mother’s blood filled my head, refusing to leave. I picked up my pace, double-time. “Or at least, the thing that her mother had become.”
Caleb shook his head. He was trying to make sense of it all. I could have told him that it was useless to try. But that was his journey, not mine. I’d been down that road—the one filled with trying to rationalize what strange things occurred on the regular in Brume. It had gotten me nothing but more unanswered questions.
Caleb said, “Sounds like she had no choice. It was self-defense.”
“That she didn’t, and that it was. It was also the only way to put the woman out of her misery.” On the corner, half hidden beneath a holly bush, was a small sage plant. It was hard to believe gang members had missed it, but I wasn’t about to ignore my luck and leave it there. Slipping the knife from my boot, I collected as much as I could and tucked it into my pouch before continuing. Once it had dried, it’d make for good kindling . . . and maybe save our hides from the Rippers’ jaws.
The school at last came into view. Long, dying weeds covered what had once been the schoolyard. Vines grew up the corners of the structure like wiry, too-long fingers clinging to its edges. There were boards nailed over the windows I could see, even though the windows weren’t broken. It was as if someone had added the boards to keep people out . . . or to keep whatever was inside from escaping.
A thick, rusted chain and padlock held the front doors closed. There were other ways into the school, but most people knew better than to look for them. People only came to Coe’s lair for two reasons. Either they were too stupid to know better, or they had a death wish of some kind. I wasn’t entirely convinced that Lia meant to escape with her life intact.
A shaky breath exited my lungs. I didn’t know how to save Lia. I wasn’t even sure she could be saved. I just knew that I was willing to die for her.
When I spoke, it wasn’t just to Caleb, but to myself—a reminder of the darkness my friend had faced. “Lia has never forgiven herself . . . or Coe. So Lia going to the school is more dangerous for her than it is for anyone. Because I think she means to take down Coe while she’s here. Or die trying.”
He shook his head, horrified. “I didn’t know.”
“No. You didn’t. But you heard me tell her not to go and you ignored me.” I met his eyes with a steely gaze and gestured to him with my bat. “When we get Lia out of there, you and I are going to have words, Caleb. And if Lia doesn’t survive, you’d better believe me, neither will you.”
Caleb looked from my bat to me. His tone was calm and steady. “Quinn, I know you’re upset. You’re angry and afraid, and who wouldn’t be in your situation? But I’m not Lia’s keeper. I didn’t force her to come here, and right now, I’m your only ally. I want to help you. I want to help her.”
My fury waned. Who was I really mad at? Caleb, for not protecting her? Or Lia, for not protecting herself the way I wanted her to?
A high-pitched scream, muffled by the walls of the building, peeled out into the night. I had only heard that scream once before, but I would have recognized it no matter how muffled it might have been. It was Lia. In fear or in pain, I had no idea. I bolted for the side of the building, pulling at some of the loose boards that covered one of the windows. Before I could uncover the filthy glass panes, Caleb was at my side, yanking just as hard at the slabs of wood. When the window was clear, he said, “Come on. I’ll boost you up.”
The corner of my mouth twitched in insult. Dropping my bat to the ground, I jumped and gripped the ledge with my fingers before pulling myself up. Once I pushed the window open and slipped inside, I gestured for Caleb to hand me my bat. Tempted as I was to leave Caleb outside, I thrust my good arm out the window, grabbed his hand, and pulled. He climbed up and in after me, and the look on his face onc
e he was clear of the sill was one of surprise. I smirked. “What, you didn’t think someone like me could be this strong?”
His only response was dumbfounded silence.
A musty smell of age and abandonment permeated the building. A cursory glance around told me we’d entered a classroom. Dust-covered, rotting desks dotted the room. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling in wispy bunches. The tiles of the floor were filthy. Many were cracked or missing. On the wall at the front of the room hung an old, green chalkboard. Someone had carved sharp, jagged words into it that sent an unsettling feeling through me, as if I’d heard the words before.
You can’t run from the monster. The monster is you.
Shaking off a sensation that I could only attribute to nerves, I pushed forward into the hall, which wasn’t any more welcoming. Paint had peeled from the walls and the lockers lining either side.
Caleb turned left, clutching his weapon in his hand, but he didn’t get two steps before I stopped him. “Where are you going?”
Nodding farther down the hall, he said, “The stairs are right there. I’ll check the second floor. You cover this one.”
When is splitting up ever a good idea? Never, Caleb. The answer is never. “We should stick together.”
“From the sounds of it, we should find her fast and get out of here. Besides . . . I’m worried about her.” He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face. He shifted his feet, and his skin flushed, as if he were embarrassed about something.
“We’re both—” I cut my sentence short, in stark realization. The blush on his cheeks. The way he kept darting his eyes all around.
Lia had a thing for Caleb. And he returned those feelings.
I felt sick. Heartbroken and sick. In a case of boy meets girl, where did a genderqueer person like me end up?
He said, “I’ll be back. If you find her, just shout, okay?”
All I could manage was a nod in response. Once Caleb was out of sight, I pushed my heartache way deep down inside of me. There would be time to hurt later. Right now, our lives were in danger just by being here. We had to find Lia and get the hell out.
Apart from the creaks and groans of the aged building, I heard no sound out of the norm. The fact that I wasn’t hearing any more screams made me question whether I’d heard one in the first place. But Caleb had clearly heard it as well. So Lia had to be here somewhere. Didn’t she?
It occurred to me that we could be too late. Lia might already be dead. I wasn’t sure which would haunt me more—her screams, this horrible silence, or the impossible, painful lack of her.
Lia, who’d saved my life on more than one occasion. Lia, who looked at Caleb in a way she’d never look at me. Lia, who I feared might need a person who was born in a binary gender to fill her heart.
I’d never questioned our connection before. We were a team, she and I. And no one could ever come between us . . . that is, until Caleb walked into our lives.
A low chattering as soft as a whisper reached my ears. I turned my head, trying to locate its source. It sounded like words, many voices running together, but I couldn’t discern anything sensible from it. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Lia wouldn’t speak so softly if she were in trouble. But if it wasn’t Lia I was hearing, then who . . . or what . . . was it?
Keeping my footfalls soft, I moved down the hall. The chattering didn’t get louder or quieter no matter where I was, which might have been the most disturbing thing about it. Its rhythm was so constant, for a moment I questioned whether it was coming from somewhere in the school . . . or from inside my head.
Movement at the end of the hall startled me. I hadn’t gotten a clear view, but it looked like a person dashing to the right. Lia. It had to be. But where was she going? Resisting the urge to call out to her, I picked up my pace, hurrying as quietly as I could. It wasn’t until I reached the corner that I realized the strange chattering had ceased, replaced by another eerie silence.
I didn’t have time to wonder what that meant. I had to get Lia. With sure steps, I turned the corner. At once, the air locked inside my lungs. Just disappearing into one of the dilapidated classrooms were dark, spindly arms, almost too thin to carry the creature’s weight, but they did so, impossibly. The body of the thing—large, black, and scaly—paused for a moment in the doorframe, without turning around to face me. Without even looking at me, it was aware of me.
Coe.
My body felt like it was frozen, but like every cell was vibrating as well. The pounding of my heart filled my head, and in my terror, I wondered if it was loud enough for Coe to hear it. My world tilted on its side as my body reminded me of the infection I was fighting. The sensation of claws digging into my brain overwhelmed me, a strange dizziness on its heels. Pinpricks covered every inch of my skin. My fever was back. There was no doubting that. I wasn’t standing still in the presence of the most dangerous being in all of Brume because I wanted to be—I stood there not knowing if I could turn away in my current state. What’s more, an engulfing sense of wrongness had glued me to the spot. But I had to break free of it all. I had to get as far away from this place as I could, no matter the cost.
Pivoting on my heel, I turned to run.
21
“I can’t believe you! How can you do this to me? To us? To yourself, Quinn? It doesn’t make any sense!” Lia was pacing back and forth, her footfalls causing the picture frames on my dresser to shake. Her fingers turned white as she gripped her cell phone. At the same time, the sunshine streaming through the window caught her hair just right and made it gleam. Brume had gifted us with an early summer, so I’d opened my bedroom window to let the soft breeze in. On it came the scent of my mom’s rose garden. It would have been the perfect day, if I weren’t causing so much chaos for everyone I’d ever loved. “I mean, it’s not like you’re having an operation to turn into a guy or something. You just like girls. There’s nothing wrong with that!”
I sat on the bed watching her, wincing a bit at the way she referred to someone transitioning, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on my wrist—a birthday gift from my brother, Kai, last year. I knew Lia was going to be upset, but I’d been hoping that maybe she’d take the news better.
She was right. It probably was senseless. But it wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter. Mom and Dad had made that crystal clear. Go get help for what they called my “condition,” or they’d kick me out. At least with the camp, I’d be back in a couple weeks and could see Lia again. Being homeless would ruin everything for me. Lia’s foster parents wouldn’t take me in. Kai would have to go back to the dorms, and his roommate probably wouldn’t want his little sister sleeping on the floor, so I couldn’t stay with him. I’d have nowhere to go. Besides, there was still a lingering question in the back of my mind that I needed an answer to. Was I really a lesbian? Or was my relationship with Lia all a mixture of confusion and curiosity? “I just . . . have to give it a chance, Lia. Can’t you just support me and tell me everything will be all right?”
“No, I can’t.” The mattress squeaked as she sat down beside me and cupped my hand in hers. Her fingers meshed so well with mine, like our hands were made to be joined. Her skin was tan, mine pale. Her fingernails were clean, but unpolished. Mine had a fresh coat of pink. Giving her hand a squeeze, I met her gaze. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her eyes so blue. “Those people, Quinn—they brainwash, they lie, they twist your heart into believing it’s wrong, and you’re willingly going to enter one of their stupid programs?”
She was giving voice to everything I was afraid of, which didn’t help, exactly. “I’m not going totally willingly.”
“I don’t see you putting up much of a fight.”
What did she expect me to do? To oppose my parents like I was the protagonist in some progressive movie who could defy the odds, stand against homophobia, and come out on top?
“I’m seventeen, Lia. I don’t have much of a say in what I can do for another eleven months.”
&nbs
p; “I know. I’m just . . . scared for you.” She’d lowered her voice—maybe in defeat, maybe in pain and disbelief. Probably all of the above.
“I have to do this.”
The dam broke. Tears spilled over her cheeks. “But why?”
It was the only secret I’d kept from her, the wondering I’d hidden away since we’d started dating last year. The thought of revealing my doubts about my orientation made my stomach shrivel into a hard, solid ball. But I owed her that much. “What if my parents are right? What if I’m not gay?”
The look on her face was one of shock and heartbreak. The truth may set you free, but that doesn’t mean it will do so without ripping you to bits first. “Then explore that question without doing this. Get a therapist. Start taking yoga. Do whatever you have to do to clear your mind so you’ll know what your truth is. But I’m begging you. Please don’t go there, Quinn. Please.”
“Lia—”
“I’m not asking you to stay for me. I’m asking you to stay for yourself. People like that—who say that being anything but straight is evil—people like that are dangerous.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and with it, my heart.
The breeze picked up, billowing the sheer white curtains. A beautiful day, indeed. But not for me. “I’m not going there to be ‘cured.’ I know that’s what my family wants, but it’s not what I’m doing. I’m going there because I just don’t know anymore.”
She brushed a strand of hair from my forehead and cupped my cheek in her silk-soft palm. I leaned into her touch and closed my eyes, blocking out the world for a moment I hoped could last forever.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” My eyes flew open at my mother’s biting tone. She was standing in my bedroom doorway, eyeing Lia with more judgment and dislike than I’d ever seen.