“Fine, then. You think you can do what I just did? Let’s see.”
Laney’s so confident she can win at everything, but she needs to wake up. This isn’t one of her shallow beauty pageants. She needs to realize that this is a life or death situation. Once we’re done, we’re D-O-N-E. There is no turning back. We can’t magically return to our bodies, which are whoknowswhere at this point. I mean, it’s not like I have a map of the afterlife.
Laney tilts her nose upward, breezing past me on her way to Sara. “Get the damn book,” she orders. “I’m tired of waiting around.”
Sara retrieves the tattered item from the grass and holds it in front of Laney, who, in turn, takes her first swipe.
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chapter eight • laney
Why can’t I hit this stupid thing? I’ve tried and tried, and nothing happens. Sara probably put some sort of ghostly spell on it so she could laugh internally at my pathetic effort.
“What are you staring at?” I growl at Flora. She’s refraining from bursting into a fit of giggles; her bottom lip is being held down by her top, and they’re both turning white.
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replies. She’s rolling around in a pool of conceitedness—drowning, even. Meanwhile, I’m pouring the sprinkles and topping it off with a cherry.
“Laney, it’s been much longer than I anticipated,” our creepy spirit wrangler reminds me. “I’m afraid if you can’t accomplish this soon, I’m going to have to move on to the next phase.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. She better not be traveling through more portals and leaving me behind.
“I can’t keep you here forever,” she answers.
Like I didn’t already know that…
Then she adds, “What comes shortly is essential to your survival. The next person who dies in your hometown guarantees a ticket to the Shadowlands.”
“Wait…what?” Flora opens her big-ass mouth before I can open mine. “Someone dies and we get to go home?”
“It’s not that easy, and it’s not the home you’re used to. You’re stuck here until someone can take your place in Lichburn. Think of it as an exchange. Unfortunately, I have to choose who leaves and who stays.”
“And what’s the verdict?” I ask, hoping she’ll choose me.
Sara pauses, then her features soften. “Flora adapted well to the world out here, which is identical to the Shadowlands. Laney, you mastered indoor abilities, which are also used in the Shadowlands. This is a tough decision, but I must opt for Flora, as she is knowledgeable of how the outdoors works up there.” She points toward the sky. “The outdoor abilities will be more useful than the indoor abilities.”
Annnnd there’s the effing bomb. How did I not see that one coming? Since I’m the one who’s not learning fast enough with this brainless, make-the-book-fly-across-the-yard lesson, I’ll be the one who waits until someone else dies. But how long will that be?
“I’m sorry. That’s just how it works,” Sara says, observing my reaction.
“It’s not fair that I have to stay behind! My family loves me. Flora’s doesn’t give a shit. Her body could wither up and die in her backyard, and nobody would ever know.” I bolt through the front door without waiting for Sara’s reaction. Like, literally through it.
I don’t know where I’m going. There’s really nowhere to go, exce Ce t
With the bedroom door now closed behind me, I rummage through what few items are in here. Old books are piled in the corner, and dust is piled on top of them. Seriously, does Sara even clean? There are no knickknacks inside the sole, one-drawer nightstand. This is simplified…uh…living at its finest.
I plunk my small tush down on the edge of the bed, since there’s no reading material on how to become a poltergeist in three easy steps. Apparently, Sara’s way is the only way. It sucks that the effect isn’t reversed, that I can’t learn inside. But if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s sneaking out. The more practice I can get in before someone in Briarhaven dies, the better chance I have of earning Flora’s ticket to the Shadowlands.
I mean, I’ve already made up my mind. Flora’s parents care too much about Derek to notice that she’s missing. If there’s a way I can convince Sara to let me go instead, then I won’t hesitate. Obviously Flora’s her favorite, but the dead shouldn’t pick sides. Like, ever.
So, I’ll wait it out. Tonight, while they’re resting up for a big day tomorrow, I’ll learn how to control my ghostly powers. And if I’m still alive by tomorrow, I’ll show Sara what I’m capable of.
A light knock disturbs my game plan.
“Laney?” Sara’s nauseatingly-sweet voice hacks through the silence I’ve been sitting in.
“What do you want?”
“Just checking on you.” She sits down beside me on the bed. I scoot closer toward the headboard, away from her. “I know this must be hard to grasp, but you and Flora are adjusting so well. I can’t account for how many times I’ve had to fetch a spirit and teach them the same lessons you two are learning, and they either don’t want to learn because they’ve given up hope or they’re too afraid of me to try.”
Is she actually having a heart to heart with me right now? I just glare at her. Maybe she’ll get the message.
She doesn’t, of course, and continues talking. “The time I’m allotted to educate a wandering spirit is very short, I’m afraid. If one doesn’t learn by a certain point, then I have to move on to the next. You make your own choice, whether you want to be taught or not.”
“Well, I’ve been trying, so I don’t know how you can come in here and say I haven’t been,” I snap.
“That’s not what I’m saying—”
“Whatever. I owned the first and second lessons. So what if I can’t slap a book across your front yard? I still beat Flora on the other two. I should be the one who leaves, not her.”
“She has quickly caught on to what you must learn in order to survive up there,” she says, pointing toward the ceiling. you Ceilder to If you can’t move objects around to warn your family, or even write a note, how will they know?”
Writing never occurred to me. Can ghosts do that?
“Wait a second… I can scribble notes?”
Sara nods and says, “Though your family may believe it’s not you, you have to prove it is. Tell them something only they know.”
“Yeah. That’ll freak them out. I’m missing, and then weird messages appear on the refrigerator.”
“This isn’t a joke, Laney.” Sara’s serious tone catches me off-guard.
I shake my head. “I don’t mean for it to be, but put yourself in their place. Wouldn’t you be a little creeped out?”
“You can decide later whether you want to use messages to communicate, or whether you will attempt to move objects. It’s your choice, but I have to get back to Flora.” Sara gives me an I’m-sorry look. “I hope you understand.”
Oh, I understand all right. I understand that she’s not bothering to waste her time on someone who sucks at manipulating items. Instead, she’s centering her attention on someone who’s actually good at it. Never mind that I can breeze through walls, which is ten times more awesome. Whatever. I don’t have time for this.
I crawl under the covers and play invisible until I no longer hear Sara and Flora’s whispered conversations. But then an idea hits me as hard as the time I stepped outside during one of Chase’s backyard football games to let him know dinner was ready and the football struck my head: I’ll grab a random object and, as soon as I open the front door, I’ll throw it outside. It’s going to drop from my hand, anyway, but at least it’s something I can practice with. And I definitely need to practice. Maybe if I can show Sara I’m just as good as Flora, she’ll let me go to the Shadowlands first. I was, after all, the first to own walking through walls and moving my hand through a table.
Sliding out from underneath the covers and snatching a book from the stack
in my room, I blow off the dust, because Sara’s obviously too busy to clean. Half expecting my door to creak open, like in scary movies, I squint, preparing for the worst-case scenario. Nothing happens.
I slink across the wooden floorboards of Sara’s cabin and…no creaks, no groans, just smooth gliding. Apparently, ghosts don’t create sounds when they’re trying to be sneaky. Hopefully, my idea will work; I’ve had all afternoon to devise a plan. But the weaker I become, the harder it is for me to concentrate.
The flames crackle in the stone fireplace and every few seconds emit a loud pop. I jump. Plus, my stomach is flipping out. What if Sara catches me? What if we’re not supposed to be out late? Maybe there are evil ghosts lurking in the bushes.
A shiver C"+0 la tingles up my spine as I dismiss that mental image.
Twisting the knob and slowly opening the door, I toss the book out into the mist. I have no clue where it landed, just that it’s somewhere in front of me. I’m going to learn this before tomorrow. Good thing ghosts don’t really require sleep.
Soundlessly, I close the door. I always thought spirits like being creepy and scaring people with their rusty doors and strange noises, but now I know they don’t do any of that unless they need attention. It’s kind of sad, in a way. And desperate.
“Where are you, book?” I whisper. Fog continues to pass by. Waves of ashen sheets break into various directions as they collide into my legs. Moving my hands back and forth doesn’t work, as they run straight through. With the intense haze steadily moving, this is going to be ten times more difficult.
Sara had said I need to focus all my energy on the object. With my body growing more fragile, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to practice. I do know that if I can’t learn this exercise, I’ll be stuck in Lichburn while Flora spends her merry time up top.
The thought of Flora returning home while I stay here and sling books across the yard makes me want to hurl—which forces me concentrate more than ever. An electric pulse gradually magnifies under my skin, and my fingertips begin to glow. I’m so fascinated by the brightness emanating from me, I lose all focus, and the light dims.
“Damn it!” I stomp my foot. Habit, I guess. It’s not like it works here.
Again, I think. At least I know what’ll happen this time. The stimulating energy prickles from head to toe. I close my eyes, imagining the book reaching my hand—struggling, at first, but eventually finding its way. God, this better work; otherwise, I’ll throw a bitch fit the afterlife has never seen before.
My eyes remain shut so I won’t lose focus. Over and over again I play out the event in my mind and hope for the best, but my strength is failing. The electricity isn’t as strong anymore. I squeeze my eyes tighter, tighter, tighter. My ticket to freedom—and life—is only two feet away. I can’t let this slip.
A dull thump against my palm takes me by surprise.
“I did it,” I whisper, as I open my eyes and stare at the book in my hand. Why was that so hard for me earlier?
“Congratulations,” Sara says from behind me, and my entire body jolts.
The novel drops, swallowed again by the fog.
“I didn’t know you were out here.”
She size=">leisurely glides toward me. “I wanted to see if you had what it takes, without pressure.”
“Well, uh, thanks for not interrupting me, I guess.” I move to brush past her, but she steps in front of me.
“I want you to know that I’m not taking sides. I do believe you can do this, but Flora was the first to understand. I’ve already promised her she could go.”
I glance at the depressing fog, grass, trees—anything but her. “Whatever. You can say you don’t take sides all you want, but the truth is you’ve taken hers. I should be the one who goes. I learned the first two lessons before she did. That’s got to count for something.”
“You’ll be next to go. Trust me, Laney, I know you don’t want to be here. I hate keeping you, but it’s my job to prepare people for the world as a ghost. If you don’t have the skills necessary to travel and move things, then how will you survive?”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I stare her directly in the eyes. “It’s so unfair. I don’t care what you or anyone else in Lichburn says. I should’ve been teleported out of this place by now.”
Sara opens her mouth, but closes it and steps aside. She’s learning that if I don’t get my way, I’m more stubborn than a kid who needs a nap. And I’m learning that being in Lichburn is like one long nightmare after another.
Except I can’t wake up.
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chapter nine • flora
Sara says if someone dies today, I can enter the Shadowlands. God, that sounds so morbid. It’s so weird how I can just take the place of someone else. Like Lichburn can’t have too many spirits, so they enforce crowd control. One dies. One moves on. Another stays behind. Who knew ghosts had rules?
There’s a thick air between Sara and Laney this morning. I don’t know what that’s about, other than Laney not leaving Lichburn first. She couldn’t even touch the book when we were in the yard.
Last night, after Laney’s dramafest, Sara and I stayed up so she could coach me how to not use so much energy. She said I’ll wear down fast if I don’t take breaks. But even if I do rest, my body will still feel thin. I’ve estimated that we only have a few days, more or less, before our bodies give out.
“So, we just wait?” I ask.
Sara nods, biting her lower lip. I’m sure she hates keeping Laney behind.
“How does it work, exactly?” asks Laney. “I mean, does your doorbell ring or does something spooky happen?”
s “I mean2em" align="justify">“No,” Sara says. “I’m just…aware.”
Laney continues. “Like you were aware when we fell off the cliff? How is that possible?”
“I can sense any spirit within my region. Other spirit guides aren’t able to sense you two, just as I can’t sense theirs.”
I have to give Sara credit. She’s very patient when it comes to Laney. If it were me, I would’ve left her spirit wandering by the cliff. But that’s why I’m not a guide, I guess.
“So, there’s more than just one of you?” Laney inquires, picking at a stone on the fireplace.
To my surprise, Sara giggles. “I can’t take care of the dead on my own. Think of the multitudes that pass every day. How could I be with each? It’s not possible. So, yes, there are more of us.”
“Oh,” Laney states. She continues using her neon-pink fingernail to pick at the stone. I don’t know what she’s doing. Biding time? Looking for answers? Sara’s already told us what will happen.
“How much longer?” I’ve never wanted someone to die so badly in my life, but now everything depends on death.
“There is an elderly man in his home. His last breath will be within the next hour,” says Sara. She stands at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the fog that never stops moving.
I stare at her. “What?”
“I can sense when humans are about to pass, when they’ve passed, and when they’re lost.” She says it so easily that it’s as if she’s clarified her job duties for hundreds of years. Maybe she has. Who knows?
My stomach gnaws on itself, and I think I might puke. Soon, I’ll be able to see Mia again. Even though she won’t know I’m there, how badass will it be to scribble a note and watch her wig out?
“Can you kill someone as a ghost?” Laney asks out of the blue.
Sara fumbles for words, opening and closing her mouth, but finally settles on affirmation.
I snort. “You plan on killing your pageant competition?”
Laney makes a big display of stomping across the living room and plopping down on the couch. “No, Flora, I’m asking in case someone doesn’t kick it soon. What if I’m stuck here until I die?”
“Wait…you want me to kill someone?”
She smiles. “Not exactly kill th
em with your hands, but, you know, scare them a little. The older the better. It wouldn’t take much for an eighty-year-old to have a heart attack.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
The poor thing. She’s convinced herself it’d be better to murder a living soul than to wait in the afterlife. I respond, “Because I have one reason to be up there, and it doesn’t include freaking out nursing home residents.”
Laney scowls. “Whatever.” She mumbles, “I’d do it for you,” in route to one of the guest bedrooms.
What? She slams her bedroom door shut, and I stand rooted in place, dumbfounded. Who is she, and what has she done with Laney Tipps?
Sara pleads to me with her eyes, as if I’m the latest serial killer of the elderly. Yeah, right.
“I’m not going to do it,” I tell Sara, but she gives me the same look again. “I’m not! I swear. Maybe she would…” I motion toward the general vicinity where Laney disappeared.
“I’m going to reiterate this one more time to both of you.” Sara raises her voice so Laney can hear, too. “You don’t have much time. When you use energy to warn your families, it drains you. If you can’t convince them to search for your bodies, you’ll be stuck in the afterlife forever. If I were either of you ladies, I wouldn’t spend my time bickering. I would spend it making myself useful, practicing for what lies ahead.”
I never think about what lies ahead, to be honest, but I guess now is a good time to start.
“Less than forty-five minutes.” Sara turns back to the window, where the fog curls against the glass. I might be wrong, but I swear I can see faces in the mist. “He’s fading much quicker than I anticipated,” she says, and I’m positive those words are only meant for her ears.
“What, exactly, causes the haze?” I question, hoping to pull her out of that depressing trance. Sara doesn’t spin around or acknowledge me, at first. It’s as if she’s mesmerized by whatever’s in the miniature clouds.
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