That’s what you wanted, I reminded myself. You should be happy.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, panting to catch my breath. Relief spread through me when I heard the familiar voice on the other end.
“Heather,” I choked. “Can you come get me?” At least my best friend would come for me.
The beach was bleak and deserted. I hugged my arms to my chest, but the chill in the air grew with each dragging step. My shoes weighed me down, caked with sand both inside and out, but I didn’t bother to remove them. I had bigger things to worry about. It was too cold to go barefoot anyway.
Something brushed my head. I looked up to the clouds looming above just as the rain started to fall. Perfect, I thought; just perfect. My arm flew instinctively to my head to take cover but my efforts were futile. I ran towards the edge of the parking lot in search of shelter, water soaking through my hair. Why hadn’t I worn a hood today?
I ran to the first building in sight, a snack bar that was closed for the season, and huddled under the edge of the awning. Then I waited, miserable and wet, for Heather to arrive.
It felt like an eternity as I sat and shivered, curled in a ball to keep warm. The gray sky encompassed me, like I would blend right in until I disappeared. The ache felt different than in the past though. It wasn’t the strange emptiness that forced itself upon me without reason, like I experienced during my crazy spells. No, this was different. These feelings were real.
Anger, frustration, insecurity, helplessness; this time I actually had a reason to be upset, to feel all these horrible emotions.
I didn’t want to change who I was. I didn’t want to believe there was something wrong with me, that I was a malfunction. Why was this happening to me? I didn’t want to be dependent on Rayne or his water to survive. I wasn’t sure I could even trust him to stick around for long.
I’m not a person who gets sick, I thought. I’m not weak. I don’t rely on stupid boys to make me happy. That isn’t me.
I’m Sadie James. I’m healthy and happy and carefree. I’m confident in myself. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ve always been.
My shoulders lifted from their slump with anticipation when a car came into view from the entrance. Although it wasn’t Heather’s car I hoped to see—it was Rayne’s. Why was he always taking over my head?
Unfortunately, it wasn’t Rayne or Heather.
I went back to hugging my legs to my chest and wallowing in discomfort. I analyzed my conversation with Rayne up on the lookout platform. What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like me to get in fights with people and run off in a tantrum. I always got along with everyone. I loved being around people. Maybe I just didn’t know myself as well as I thought I did.
Logic and emotion raged a battle inside my head. Should I let myself depend on Rayne or shield myself from possible hurt in the future? Should I ignore my need to be near him or give in to my longings, even if they were fabricated by the Healing Water?
My emotions wanted to pretend everything was like it used to be, to ignore my problems and run away from them; but logic told me I had to face the truth. I had to be tough, suck it up and deal with the things I couldn’t control. I had to find a way to survive, like my mother did when my father left her.
Suddenly I found determination. Thinking of her gave me strength. If she could do it, so could I.
Rayne’s car never emerged from the steep bend above the entrance, but finally Heather’s car rolled into view.
She glanced up and down my dripping exterior with concern. “What happened to you?” she said as she cranked on the heater. “Like, just looking at you is making me cold. And since when do you skip class anyway?”
“I know,” I sighed as we left the beach behind us. “This whole day has been one big disaster.”
“I saw your car when I left school,” she said. “How did you even get out here?”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head back in the seat. “I was with Rayne. We sort of got in a fight. It was really just me getting mad at him for trying to help me though. I’m a total idiot.”
Tiny lines wrinkled her forehead. “Why? What happened? You have to tell me everything.”
I wanted to tell her everything, but of course I couldn’t do that. “It’s a long story,” I grimaced. “Things are always so complicated with him. I don’t know; maybe I’m just scared of getting hurt, you know what I mean?”
I laughed once under my breath. “He must think I’m so immature.”
“No, I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” she said in a consoling tone.
“I ran away from him, Heather. All he was trying to do was talk to me about something important and I actually…literally…ran away.” The thought sounded so infantile I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh at myself or burst into tears.
“So you like to play hard to get,” she joked. She looked at me with lifted eyebrows. “That just makes guys want you more.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
I relaxed a bit as the hot air warmed my tense muscles. “You know what the worst part is?” I sighed. “He didn’t chase after me. I really thought he was going to.”
“He probably just wanted to give you space, like, to give you time to think.”
“Maybe. Actually, I think I do need time alone to think.”
Heather drove us back to the school but I sent her to class without me. I decided I would go for a drive to clear my head, but first I stopped to look for my diary. I circled around the bench where I’d fainted earlier that day and was thoroughly relieved when I noticed it lodged under a nearby bush. The edges were a little wet from the rain, but the leather binding kept it surprisingly dry.
I hugged the book to my chest. It would’ve been mortifying if another student found my diary. And it was my main source of communication with Rayne—if I decided I still wanted to talk to him.
Deep down, I knew there was a good chance I did. I was already feeling the regret of my decision to run, and I knew no matter what I decided, I would at least be adult enough to tell him in person.
I drove aimlessly through town and down the highway. I wasn’t ready to make any decisions just yet. I wanted to listen to music, to lose myself in singing and let the melodies carry all thoughts from my head, but I realized I didn’t even have my player in the car. I’d forgotten it at the school. It was still sitting in my locker.
That meant I’d forgotten my wallet too. I immediately slowed down, not wanting to chance getting pulled over by a cop while driving without a license.
A faint chime rang from my pocket. At least I had my phone with me. I pulled off to the side of the road and looked at the screen. It was a message from my mother. She wanted to know why Rayne would have reason to come to our house, seeming somewhat upset and looking for me during the middle of school.
I didn’t answer her back.
I’d either have to lie to my mom about my whole morning or relive the entire dreadful experience by telling her all about it. Either way I’d have to use a lot of brain energy to edit out all the parts she wasn’t supposed to know. All of the options sounded way too exhausting. Instead I ignored her all together, throwing my phone in the passenger seat with a groan.
There was one good thing that came from her message. At least I knew Rayne was looking for me; that meant he couldn’t be too angry. I wondered why he wasn’t able to find me. Didn’t he always have me located on some kind of tracking device?
Then I remembered; he told me the tracker was in my wallet, the wallet still sitting in my locker at school.
I felt suddenly guilty for leaving Rayne with no way to keep track of me. It was his job to protect me after all and I wasn’t making his job very easy. But if he truly was that concerned, why didn’t he run after me at the beach in the first place? Something seemed off about the whole thing.
If he really was worried, couldn’t he send me a note in the diary? Of course, for all he knew, my copy of the diary was lost or in the hands of some strange
r at my school. He could try calling my phone though, couldn’t he? Why would he go to my house and worry my mother?
I should probably just call him. Even if I hadn’t sorted through all my feelings yet, it would be better to talk things out. It felt like the initial shock had worn off and I could talk to him more rationally now. I should apologize; give him a chance to finish explaining things. I didn’t like the contention between us. And truthfully, I was already starting to miss him.
What answers could I come up with on my own anyway? I needed Rayne’s help more now than ever before; at least to figure out what to do with my malfunctioning body. Things were what they were. I had to accept the challenge life was throwing at me and face it head on.
I would contact Rayne right away and get this whole thing sorted out. I wondered if I should contact him through the diary, if he would even be watching it when there was a good chance he thought it was lost. But he did always mention I should avoid calling his phone, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to try the diary first. If there was no answer then I could try calling or go to his house and see if he was there.
I fumbled through the glove box in search of a pen. To my surprise, just as I was reaching for my diary the tiny purple bulb illuminated. A grin spread across my face—it was as if he read my mind. I flipped the pages quickly and found the message:
WE NEED TO TALK. MEET ME AT WAHOO’S ON PLACENTIA AVE. ASAP.
It seemed like an odd place to meet. You would think he’d want some privacy to talk about such sensitive subjects. Maybe he thought taking me to a public place lowered the chance I would react badly again or make a scene.
Or maybe this was some sort of peace offering. I knew I mentioned somewhere in my diary that Wahoo’s was my favorite place to get tacos, so Rayne was sure to know about. He could be trying to do something nice to make me feel better.
I wrote back that I was on my way.
As I drove up outside the restaurant it was crowded with cars. I rolled slowly through the lot examining each parking spot in search of Rayne’s Range Rover. By the time I reached the back of the lot I still hadn’t spotted him anywhere. Maybe I beat him here by a few minutes.
I circled around to the front one more time, but still couldn’t find him. Was it possible he was driving a different car for some reason? I decided to park a little while and wait; if I didn’t see his car after a few more minutes I would go inside the restaurant to look for him.
There weren’t any open stalls near the entrance so I found a spot near the back. I glanced in the mirror and was suddenly glad Rayne wasn’t here yet. I looked awful. I rubbed away the smears in my makeup and found an elastic band to pull back my damp hair. The improvements were minimal, but at least it was better than before.
Several more minutes passed and still no sign of him; so I turned off my car to look for him inside. The rain had stopped, but the afternoon sky hovered dark and gloomy. I glanced around as I crossed the lot still hoping Rayne’s face might appear from the shadows.
I started passing through the tiny space between a parked truck and a large SUV. But suddenly my feet stopped. Something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I could sense something was wrong. A picture of Rayne’s face flashed through my mind. I reached in my pocket for my cell phone to call him, but my pocket was empty. My phone was in the car, sitting on the passenger seat. I turned quickly around to run back.
Then I saw them. Two wretched, black eyes blocked my path, only inches from mine. Every one of my muscles froze.
Adrenalin shot through my veins with fear as I recognized the face. This was the man Rayne warned me about; the one that grabbed my arm in front of Rayne’s house. I was told to run if I ever saw this man again.
I turned away instantly, attempting to flee, but the dark man pounced too fast, like a panther in the night.
His unrelenting arms clenched around my neck as I struggled to break loose. I tried to scream but nothing came out. There was no cry for help; I could barely breathe. My hands moved frantically. They fought for release from the pain, intense pain that swallowed my neck and pierced down my spine.
My struggle was useless. The world faded around me as energy drained from my limbs and my legs lost their strength to support me. My arms fell limp.
The panic faded to black.
25. GRAY
My eyes flashed open in alarm, heart beating with rapid thumps. It wasn’t cold, but my body shivered. Where was I? How long was I unconscious? I could be half way across the world for all I knew.
My torso bolted upright from the mat where I lay, my neck snapping from side to side. I was in a small room, unfamiliar and empty. It felt strangely clean, almost to the point of being sterile. The walls were blank and gray. The few contents in the room were all made of shiny, silver metal aside from something in the corner that I assumed was a door.
The door looked almost like it was made of frosted glass, but I couldn’t see through it. I bounded from the bed to my feet and lunged towards it. My hands circled over the bumpy material searching for a way out. It was covered with a strange pattern, like a tangle of vines, but I couldn’t find any sort of button or handle to get it open.
I banged my fists furiously, wishing it would shatter in pieces. I kicked it again and again, grunting with each blow, but the surface remained unscathed.
I scoured the small room for something to hit it with or throw at it. There was nothing hard in sight, just a flimsy mattress and a roll of tissue. I yanked and kicked at the metal platform of the bed but it was immovable, bolted to the wall. The silver sink in the corner was just as sturdy. There weren’t even any visible pipes. It was pointless.
I ripped off my shoe in frustration and threw it at the door, then watched it bounce to the ground with a thud. My back slid down the wall to my feet, leaving my body slumped in a heap. Reality began to set in. I was trapped. I hid my face in my hands as tears poured out in streams.
Why? Why was I here? What could the black-eyed man possibly want from me?
There was a strange noise just a few feet away, like a loud puff of air. My head jerked up in alarm. The door to my prison glided open and disappeared into the side of the wall. The black-eyed man peered at me through the doorway. I scrambled sideways across the floor, trying to get as far away as possible.
The door closed at his back, his dead eyes smirking. “Even a bullet couldn’t break through that door,” he said. “But it was entertaining to watch you try.” He glanced up to a corner in the ceiling where a tiny black object was mounted. He must’ve been watching from a camera.
My arms shook at the sound of his voice. “Why am I here? What do you want?”
“What do I want?” He bared his teeth like a rabid dog. “I want my life back. That’s what I want.”
I stiffened. I couldn’t keep myself from shouting back in response. “What does that have to do with me?”
He pounced down on one knee, face inches from mine, muscles threatening. “You…are what we call a bargaining chip.”
I inched backward across the floor and whimpered. “But I don’t even know who you are.”
“That’s irrelevant,” he scoffed. “The fact is, there are important people who want to protect you, people with power; people…who can give me what I want.”
“People? What people?”
His course finger dragged across my cheek. “I won’t cloud your pretty head with details. Don’t worry; as long as they cooperate you won’t get hurt.”
I shoved his hand from my face. “What if I don’t want to cooperate?”
He sneered. “That’s not an option.” I flinched as his hands clamped around my shoulders, yanking me off the ground. He threw me on the bed, hands still tight around me. A flood of pain hit my head as it knocked against the wall.
“Get your hands off me,” I cried.
I plunged my foot towards his face but it never reached the target. His hand bolted to block its path. My leg twisted with pain in his grip sending
me back to the ground. The wind knocked out of me as I hit the hard surface with a gasp.
His expression shifted, distracted by something. “What do we have here?” he said.
He crouched down beside me.
My lungs pulsed with shallow breaths as he moved close. His piercing stare sent my heartbeat into spasms. Black, dead-looking veins plagued the whites of his eyes like a web. His gaze was fixed on the crystal necklace dangling around my neck. It must’ve fallen out of my shirt when I hit the ground.
I bent my face to the side, away from his, as far as my neck would allow.
He took the crystal in his palm and examined it. I saw his wrist from the corner of my eye. He had a Watermark too. It was black, dead black—just like mine was again. Next to his mark there was a horrible scar on his wrist; a mass of mangled skin like a burn that never healed.
“A Water Briolette?” he said, surprised.
I inched backward with trembling arms until my head was pinned to the wall. There was nowhere left to go.
His stale breath lingered, uncomfortable on my face. “I have one of these too,” he said. “Only, you can’t see it. It’s not mounted on a pretty chain like yours. Mine is in here.” He pointed to his chest and tapped on it. “Surgically implanted inside my heart. Ingenious, don’t you think?”
I didn’t answer. I stared at him dumbfounded with fear.
His chuckle was sinister, almost insane. “But you know what they say…two is better than one.” He lifted the chain from my neck with an eerie smile, mocking me with his hollow, raven eyes.
Hot air hit my cheek as he laughed again. “You know, you shouldn’t stay away from the water too long. It can make someone like us go insane.” He motioned one finger in circles around his ear, darkly amused. I gawked at him, unable to move.
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