by Eden Maguire
“As soon as we lose our power to return to limbo, stuff begins to happen,” he muttered.
“What stuff?” I noticed that Summer and Jonas had also faded from the circle. Only Arizona and Hunter had stayed to listen.
A deep frown appeared on Phoenix’s face. “If we get trapped here, we can’t regenerate.”
It took a while for me to grasp what he was saying then I gave a small gasp.
“We’re dead, remember.” Trust Arizona to zap it to me. “A zombie trapped on the far side during an electrical storm doesn’t last long. Maybe a week, if that.”
“Oh!” Now I wished I could turn the clock back two minutes to the point before I began to ask questions. A chill entered my heart and I shuddered.
“We start to decompose from day one,” merciless Arizona went on. “Our eyes cloud over and we turn blind. Our joints decay—we move more slowly.”
“Don’t!” I pleaded.
“You wanted to know,” she insisted. “Day two—open wounds begin to rot.”
“Enough, Arizona.” Hunter stepped forward. “That’s where the far side gets its image of us from,” he explained to me in a voice that seemed less harsh than before. “The mindless monster who thrives on human flesh. But don’t worry, Darina, I take good care of my charges. I won’t let it happen to them.”
Catching my breath, I nodded at him. The picture Arizona had painted revolted me and images from horror movies crowded into my head. “You’ll look out for Phoenix?” I begged Hunter.
“I swear,” he promised. “You see how I protected him during last night’s storm.”
“Thank you. Believe me—thank you!” It was fall, the time of year when storms hit, when hot air blows up from the Gulf of Mexico and clashes with the cold air of the mountains. I knew that before long it would happen again.
Hunter looked at me calmly before he unhitched his grey shirt from the waistband of his black jeans and put it on. Then he, Phoenix and Jonas drew me to one side. “You brought us some news,” Hunter said.
“About Matt Fortune,” I told them, fixing my mind on my last conversation with Zoey. “Jonas, Zoey said Matt was fighting with you, trying to get her back. Is that how you remember it?”
He nodded. “Matt did try to screw things up a couple of times. He acted like he could walk back into her life whenever he wanted. That’s the way he is. I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention.”
“Because you and Zoey had really clicked and you knew he was no threat.” To me this fitted the picture I already had. “Is it true Matt tried to draw you into a fight?”
Another nod from Jonas, while Hunter and Phoenix both listened in. “I was getting my bike fixed. We were standing outside Charlie’s place when he threw a punch. But I’m not the fighting kind.”
“What did you do?”
“I ducked. Matt swung his fist so hard he overbalanced against his Tourer, sent it crashing down. Charlie heard the noise and rushed out of his workshop. I got on my bike and rode away, end of story.”
“One dented Harley and one bruised ego,” Phoenix told Hunter.
“But listen, there’s more.” Zoey’s words were flooding back now. “Whenever Zoey tries to recall the day of the crash, there’s a block on the actual details and it’s Matt Fortune’s face she sees. In amongst all that pain and trauma, he’s there and he won’t go away.”
“Does she know why?” Phoenix asked me.
I shook my head. “She tries so hard to get rid of his face, but it doesn’t happen. It drives her crazy.”
“I don’t like this,” Jonas sighed. “I said go easy on Zoey, remember.”
Now Jonas was sounding like Zoey’s parents, but in his case I could totally understand. “You want me to back off?” Four days before his twelve months were up—so near and yet so far.
There was a long silence and it felt like we’d hit a wall until Summer came over and put her arm around Jonas’ shoulder. “Stay strong,” she told him. “The truth’s going to hurt—we always knew that.”
I hadn’t expected this from Summer—she seemed to bend too easily, like the silvery grass in the wind, and be too gentle to take this line. Then again, the Beautiful Dead had all put their faith in me and wanted me to succeed.
“I’m sorry,” I told Jonas. “I only talked with Zoey about the stuff she discusses with her shrink. I guess she’d be hurting anyway.”
“And if Zoey is in too much pain right now, we should turn our attention to Matt Fortune,” Hunter decided, looking ahead. “That is, if we believe he played a role in this.”
I thought for a while. “My gut tells me yes, he did. I don’t have the exact facts, but there’s something about Matt—the way he’s so hostile when I ask questions. And now he’s planning a big memorial procession for Tuesday, which is so not like him…”
“Stop. Tell us about this,” Hunter insisted.
So I told them about the slow ride out of town through Centennial to the fatal spot under the neon cross. And how they planned to include Jonas’ father, and the girls laying flowers, the whole deal.
Jonas lowered his head to the ground. He closed his eyes. “Keep Zoey out of it,” he pleaded.
“No problem. Her folks won’t let her anywhere near.” I was one hundred per cent sure of this.
“Hey Darina, did Jonas need to know?” Arizona interrupted. She’d come over and listened in to the stuff about the procession. “Imagine how he feels right now. It’s way worse than reading your own obituary.”
Hunter pulled us back on track. “Let’s focus on Matt. Darina, is there any way you can get the truth out of this guy?”
“Without getting in to stuff you can’t handle,” Phoenix added. He stood next to me and we stood face to face with Summer and Jonas.
“I know—why not drag the cops in, tell them you suspect Matt!” Arizona knew her suggestion was off the wall—it was her way of rubbing my nose in the dirt. “Say, ‘Hey, Sheriff, you got it all wrong. Jonas Jonson didn’t kill himself and maim his girlfriend. It was all down to Matt Fortune!‘ ‘Give me the proof,’ grunts the officer. ‘Why, Sheriff, it’s my gut telling me he’s guilty. I didn’t realize you needed proof!’”
“Arizona, back off.” It was the first time I’d seen Hunter show a flicker of true annoyance with her. “I’m warning you, OK.”
“No problem, I can take it,” I told him. “Anyway, Arizona’s right. I know the official version of the incident will be hard to break down. The inquest gave everyone neat answers, and that’s the version they’ll hold on to.”
“Everyone except Jonas’ dad,” Hunter pointed out. “He’s not into easy solutions—he knows there’s more.”
“I want you all to back off,” Jonas broke in after his long silence. His face was drained, his eyes tormented. “What we’re doing here, it’s not right. I’m hurting the people I love.”
Summer sensed his agony and held his hand tight. She knew enough about how he was feeling not to contradict him.
“Zoey and your dad are hurting anyway.” Hunter spoke after a long silence. “But you do have a choice here, Jonas. You can drop this whole thing if that’s what you want. Is it?”
I stared at Jonas’ suffering face, biting my lip and waiting for his answer.
“And then what?” Arizona asked, her voice soft and hardly recognizable. “You drop it now and it’s the end. You never get a second chance.”
And the truth dies with you, I thought. I wanted Jonas to fight on and not give in. “Zoey’s stronger than you think,” I murmured. “People are.”
He looked up at me, his eyelids flickering.
“She needs to know,” I insisted.
Jonas blinked and nodded.
“Is that a yes?” Arizona asked.
I walk with Phoenix to my car. In this moment, looking neither forward nor back, I’m totally happy.
In case I haven’t mentioned it lately, I totally love him.
I love him!
My heart bursts. I’m a happy mess.<
br />
“Promise not to do anything stupid,” Phoenix insisted as we reached my new red convertible. The roof was still down, the leather seats soaked by the night’s rain now steaming gently under the morning sun.
“Are you listening, Darina? Don’t put Matt under pressure—not face to face. It’s too risky.”
I reached out for him and kissed him, tingling at the feel of his soft, cool lips, sighing at the indescribable surge of emotion I felt. Close up, his features blurred through the flickering fringe of my lashes, but his eyes shone clear into mine.
“Nothing stupid, OK?” he murmured.
“Don’t speak,” I begged. We’d come to the parting bit again and I was putting it off, greedy for more of Phoenix’s soft kisses.
“I won’t be able to rest until this is over,” he murmured.
“So what’s new? I guess the Beautiful Dead never sleep anyway,” I whispered back.
“Right. We don’t.” He pulled away at last. “Brandon sure knows how to pick a car,” he grinned, patting the car windshield and dragging me back into the real world.
“You know I like it,” I reminded him. “But I haven’t worked out my official story yet. Like, why did Brandon Rohr give me a shiny red convertible?”
“Keep them guessing.” Phoenix held on to my hand as I searched with the other tor my car key. “And remember, Brandon’s there for you if you need him.”
I pulled the key from my jeans pocket. “I’ll remember that when Laura rips me to pieces for staying out all night.”
“Will she think the worst?” He was still grinning, turning a little bit sheepish but also amused.
“Well, she so can’t think I spent the night with you!” I joked back. Behind the kidding around, my heartstrings were stretched to breaking point. “I’ve got to go,” I whispered.
He embraced me one more time. “I’m there for you too,” he whispered. “Even though you don’t always see me.”
“Trust me,” I told him. “Remember that I love you and no one else.”
“I was at Jordan’s place,” I told Laura. “What’s the big deal?”
She’d stayed home from work, crazy with worry, calling practically every number in the Ellerton phone book.
“Darina, you don’t stay out all night without telling me!”
“Sorry.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“My phone was out of credit. I forgot.”
“I thought you’d had an accident. That car’s way too powerful. And then the storm. Jim and I sat up all night waiting for them to come and tell us you’d driven off the road.”
“Sorry!” I had to change my clothes and get to school—see Matt. “Give me a break, will you?”
Laura was too screwed up to hear me. “I even called the Rohrs’ place. I asked if you were with Brandon.”
“Pun-lease!” Disappearing into my bedroom, I shut the door behind me.
“What am I supposed to think?” she yelled. “The guy brings you a convertible and it’s not even your birthday!”
It was so weird being in school, doing normal stuff. The teachers asked me for work I hadn’t done, my math teacher checked me out to make sure I wasn’t going to pass out in her lesson again. My friends pussyfooted around me.
“Check out Darina’s car,” Hannah cooed as we left the building at the end of classes with Jordan and Lucas in tow. Jordan has the hots for Lucas but he’s not interested. That’s another story.
“How did you pay for that?” Lucas whistled through his teeth when he saw the convertible.
“Can I get a ride?” Jordan asked.
I stood back, welcoming the attention for once. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Matt Fortune came sniffing around.
He joined the group with Logan and Christian, overlooking the fight we’d had outside the 7-Eleven and making out that he knew all there was to know about every shiny nut and bolt, every piston, spark plug and gasket in the engine of my mean machine. Guy stuff.
“Jump in, let’s take a ride,” I invited him, including Logan in the offer, so the others didn’t get the wrong idea about me and Matt. I planned to drop Logan off at his house and drive on into town with Matt.
They didn’t wait to be asked twice and I was soon driving the two of them down the road, leaving Jordan, Hannah, Christian and Lucas staring. I’d told Jordan the lurid details about Matt forcing me up on to the sidewalk, so her jaw hung lower than the rest.
Matt sat in the front passenger seat, lolling against the headrest. Logan said nothing. I guess he was wondering why I’d invited Matt.
“How are the plans for Tuesday?” I asked as we stopped at a red light.
“Good.” Matt looked sideways at me without moving his head.
“Sorry I gave you a hard time.” Say it like you mean it, I told myself. Remember what you learned in those after-school acting classes.
“Does that mean you’ll be there?” he wanted to know.
“Count me in, red roses and all. What about you, Logan?” I glanced in my mirror.
“Sure, I’ll be there with Lucas.”
“Cool. Did Charlie give you and Lucas Harleys for the day?” My question was to Logan, but Matt jumped in with the answer.
“Charlie thinks it’s a great idea. A whole town thing, a big Ellerton event. So yeah, he’ll provide the bikes.”
My plan was to keep Matt at the focus of this conversation, and it was working like a dream. “And did you ask Bob Jonson to lead us? What did he say?”
“It broke him up. He cried right in front of me.”
“The guy isn’t doing well,” Logan muttered from the back seat.
“Yeah but he soon sucked it up,” Matt went on. By this time he had his feet up on my control console and his right arm was hanging over the side of the car. “He said he’d be honoured to lead the procession. Honoured.”
I turned down a side street and pulled up outside Logan’s house. His dad was sitting in the porch drinking beer with none other than Bob Jonson.
“Hey, Bob!” Matt called, lazily raising his arm in a half-wave.
I watched Logan’s face in the mirror as he got out of the car, like he’d swallowed a lemon. He walked away without saying goodbye.
“Matt.” Bob returned the wave by raising a bottle to him—a slow, clumsy movement.
“Smashed again,” Matt grunted then told me to drive off fast, before Bob had chance to stagger down the steps towards us. “The question is—will he sober up by Tuesday?”
I drove on into town, trying to handle my dislike of the guy sitting next to me, relying on his vanity to get me where I needed to be. “How about a coffee?” I asked, driving into the mall.
“Are you for real?” he asked.
I gave him a pouty smile and frouffed up my hair. “Since when did you turn down this kind of offer?”
He laughed, hardly waiting for me to stop the car before he vaulted over the side. “So, Darina, when did you stop hating me?”
“Hey, Matt I never hated you,” I lied. Get a load of this, any talent scouts out there. “It’s just that I’ve been going through a rough time.”
He strode into the nearest diner. “You mean the Phoenix thing?” he said, ordering lattes without asking me.
Yeah, that. “I got closure on it after the funeral, but it took a while.” We were drinking coffee, Matt’s guard was down, but I still needed to go really slow. “I guess I acted kind of crazy.”
“Show me a girl who isn’t,” he shrugged. “Are you still talking with Zoey?”
“No way.” Try a wry smile, another shrug. “She’s even more nuts than I am.”
“In what way?” The guard was halfway back up, he was looking at me from under the heavy brows through half-closed lids.
“Saying all kinds of stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Like, she could see Jonas looking down on her, asking if she was OK, when everyone knows he died on the spot. I told her it was part of the PTS syndrome.”
/> Matt had no clue what this meant.
“Post Traumatic Stress,” I explained. “Zoey’s brains are cooked. She has no memory of what really happened.”
His guard dropped again. “Let’s not talk about Zoey,” he said, cosying up to me on the leatherette bench. “Darina, you’re kind of cool, you know that?”
This was where the eyelash flutter came in, and more pouting. No words. It turns out I deserved an Oscar.
“You think out of the box—I like that about you. Not like Zoey.”
“I thought we weren’t talking about her.” Less than twelve hours ago I’d been with Phoenix, in seventh heaven. Now here I was with Matt Fortune, trying not to feel nauseous.
“Right. Zoey had her chance and she blew it.” His arm was resting along the back of the seat, his hand creeping on to my bare shoulder. “So how come you played hard to get way back then?”
I chose not to waste my breath by going into the issue of loyalty between friends. “Truth?” I simpered. “I didn’t take you seriously, Matt. I thought you were out of my league.”
Matt Fortune was immune to irony. Maybe his mom had vaccinated him against it, along with rubella and chicken pox. His hand was definitely resting on my shoulder now.
“Anyway, I didn’t want to get hurt. I thought you and Zoey would get back together.”
“She was crazy even then,” he confided, leaning in and glancing down to sneak a look at my non-existent cleavage. He was obviously disappointed. “It’s not like I didn’t offer to get back with her.”
“So crazy,” I echoed. “How much time did you waste on her?”
“Too long, hanging round her place, telling her Jonas was a loser.”
“Yeah, loser.” Don’t say too much, don’t push too hard. “Maybe it was Jonas’ Dyna that did it for Zoey.”
“Poser!” Matt snorted and rested back against the seat. “The Dyna comes nowhere near the Tourer FLXH. The Street Glide—now there’s a motorcycle!”
That was it—I’d found a solitary emotion lurking in his dark heart. Jealousy. Now I could safely stir it. “Jonas never looked cool on that bike. He wasn’t born to ride.”