Before I Disappear

by Danielle Stinson

  “They’re in there.” Jeremy inhales sharply. “They’re all in there. Charlie’s shielding them with this force we all felt. The one that works against the dark pulse.”

  And I know exactly what it’s costing him.

  “It’s the threads,” I say. “He’s using them to do it. To do everything. Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t here. Linking us to each other. I can feel the thread that connects me to Charlie right here.” I put my hand against my chest, directly over my beating heart. “He’s been using it this whole time to reach me. The tugs. The memories. Everything I’ve been feeling. They were all Charlie’s ways of trying to get me to understand.”

  “Understand what?” Ian asks quietly.

  I meet his eyes. “That the only way to him is through the darkness. My darkness.”

  I gasp as another memory sails out of the shadows of my mind. The last words Charlie said to me.

  “The music in the dark is loud, but it’s not as strong as the song inside of us. You’ll feel it. Right here.” He fisted his hand over his chest. “It’ll bring you halfway there. The rest you’ll have to do on your own. Remember, Rosie. Promise me you’ll remember.”

  “He told me,” I breathe. “He told me this would happen. He’s waiting for me in the Black Nothing. On that special ledge of the darkness carved out just for the two of us.”

  I don’t say the rest. Ian figures it out anyway.

  “You want to follow this thing. You want to follow it into the Black Nothing or the wormhole or wherever the hell it decides to take you.” It’s not a question.

  I let my eyes move to the shadow. Fake. To the river, and the ravine walls, and my friends forming a circle around me. Solid. Real. Strong.

  “I have to face the Black Nothing. The part that is mine and Charlie’s. I have to go to the one place I can see the thread between us, and I have to use it to pull him back.”

  “We aren’t sending you out there to be erased. I don’t care what your gut says,” Ian grinds out.

  “What if Rose is right?” Jeremy asks. “What if it’s the only way?”

  “Then we make another one.”

  “My darkness is right there, Ian.” I point at the shadow monster, where it’s patiently waiting. “One way or another, I’m going wherever it leads.”

  “So you want to gamble your life on the chance that the thread between you and Charlie is strong enough to survive the force that wiped Fort Glory off the map?” There’s a quiver in Ian’s voice that has the others staring. They haven’t been with him at three in the morning when his dreams are bad and his eyes are full of horrors and tears he doesn’t know how to cry.

  They don’t know him, I realize. But I do.

  “I have to believe I can find Charlie. And once I do, you—all of you—can pull me back. Just like we did before.”

  “This is crazy. Even if you find him, there’s no guarantee we can bring you back.”

  “I have to do this, Ian.”

  “No. You don’t. Walking into the Black Nothing in the hope of finding Charlie is just asking to be erased.”

  “It’s not your choice,” I tell him quietly.

  “You think I don’t know that?” Ian cries. “That doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you throw your life away on some scheme that has zero chance of succeeding.” He grabs my arm. His fingers dig into skin. The darkness in his eyes seems to stretch and yawn toward me.

  I react on instinct. My rage at everything—the past, the present, the choices I’m always being forced to make—erupts like a long-dormant volcano. I push him hard enough to send him a few steps backward. The hurt and shock on his face almost destroys me.

  Jeremy puts his hands on Ian and gently nudges him back. “Easy, bro.”

  “I am not your brother.”

  “Fine. But whatever your problem is, this isn’t the way to fix it.”

  My anger leaves me in a whoosh of exhaustion. “Sometimes all we have are bad choices, Ian,” I tell him. “This is the only one I can live with.”

  “Bullshit. This isn’t a choice. This is a surrender. We’re never going to see our families again. Every one of us knows it.” Ian steps in close. “But I think the truth is too real for you, Rose. I think you’d rather walk right off a ledge into the abyss than face it.”

  “Harsh, Ian,” Becca says, but she has no idea how harsh it is. She has no idea what Ian is really calling me. A coward. A quitter. But even though I know Ian’s darkest secrets, he doesn’t know mine. He doesn’t know what I would do to protect the people I love. What I’ve already done.

  The shadow monster seems to smile. It points again.

  Charlie. This shadow. I know where they are trying to take me. Into the darkness I see whenever I close my eyes.

  The darkness I’ve spent the last three years running from.

  I am done running.

  Blaine speaks before I can. “Go.” Pain twists his features. “Find Charlie.”

  You should go. Right now. Goodbye, Rosie.

  I take in the wall of fire in front of us. The wormhole at our backs.

  Jeremy straightens. “I’ll stay with Blaine,” he says, reading my hesitation.

  “Me too,” Becca pipes up.

  “The fire—”

  “Forget about the fire,” Jeremy growls. “Charlie is our only shot. If you don’t find him, we’re all going to die, and all of this will have been for nothing.” Before I can object, Jeremy heaves me to my feet and leads me toward the bank of the sandbar. There are boulders on this side, spaced close enough that I could probably leapfrog to the other side.

  Jeremy grabs my shoulders. “You can do this, Rose.”

  Put it in your pocket, near your body so it stays warm. I’ll take one and you take the other. We can do it, Rosie. We can keep them safe.

  We can.

  “I’ve got her back,” Ian says.

  Jeremy meets Ian’s gaze over my shoulder. “I know.”

  “Jeremy—” I begin.

  “Find Charlie. Get us out of here. If the fire comes I’ll find some way to get them across. I swear to God, Rose, I won’t leave them. Not this time.” Jeremy makes me this promise, and then he turns back to Blaine and Becca and the fire desperately trying to make its way over the water.

  I watch Jeremy tend to Blaine’s leg, and another thread, one deep inside of me, flares to life with a violent tug.

  We’ve run out of time. There are no more detours. No more chances to find our way. All we have is this moment. This one possible road to fix things.

  And that road runs through Charlie.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out Charlie’s egg in its home-made casing. A little piece of my brother. I ask Becca to hold it for me, and when she agrees, I turn back to the shadow.

  It beckons again, and this time, I follow.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  It takes forever for me and Ian to cross the river and drag ourselves out of the ravine. When we reach the top, the wormhole hangs on the horizon, towering over the trees.

  I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know how long we have before the wormhole gets here, or where the shadow monster is leading us. My mind is still stuck on the image of Blaine lying helpless on that sandbar with Becca beside him. Jeremy standing guard over them both. Ten yards of river their only defense against a wall of fire.

  The shadow wearing a green hoodie makes a beeline for the wormhole. The air on this side of the river is mostly fresh. Moss blankets the forest floor in emerald green. It reminds me of the woods around the campground, so beautiful and familiar it makes me ache.

  Ian hasn’t said a word since we left the river, but I can feel his anger like a living thing between us. He thinks this is crazy. The only reason he’s going along with it is because he knows I’m doing it with or without him.

  “It’s still walking,” I say, as much to break the silence as to keep him informed. My words drag through the air. It’s just him and me now. There are no more excus
es. No more reasons to stall. My darkness is lurking somewhere up ahead, and I won’t let Ian walk into it blind.

  “Ian, I—”

  He turns on me suddenly. His chest heaving, his face flushed with anger so hot, it blasts me from several yards away.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, startled.

  “You.” He flings the word at me like a grenade. “You are very clearly what is wrong with me. It never stops with you. How much is enough, Rose? How much do you have to suffer before you can forgive yourself for whatever it is you think you’ve done?”

  His questions cut deep. There is too much truth in them. “I didn’t ask for any of this.” Hurt laces my voice. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. So either tell me what’s pissing you off or leave it alone.”

  “You want the truth?” Ian eats up the ground between us in two easy strides. “You want to know why I’m here? You want to know what Charlie said to me the day Fort Glory disappeared? Because I wish I could forget.”

  I back up so quickly, my spine collides with a tree trunk. Bitter triumph flashes across Ian’s face. “You don’t, do you? Isn’t that why you’ve been running? Isn’t that why you won’t tell me about whatever darkness is chasing you even when we’re about to walk right into it?”

  My heart hammers my rib cage. “Did Charlie tell you?”

  Ian studies my arms where they’ve wrapped around my middle. He softens. “Not about what happened to you. But you don’t have to be Blaine to figure it out.”

  Ian grips my shoulders. “So I’m asking you to let it go. Whatever truth you’re holding. Let it go. Even if you think it’s going to level everything around you, because if that happens, we’ll deal with it like we’ve dealt with everything else. Because we have to, and because we can, and because it’s worth it. I’m willing to ride it out if you are.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  His voice goes quiet. “I do. That’s why I’m asking. You’re not alone anymore. You have friends now. People who … people who care. People who are willing to deal with your shit, no matter how bad it is.” Ian cups both of my cheeks in his hands. I feel his touch all the way down in my toes. “I want to help you. Please. Let me help you.”

  My words are all breath. “I don’t want…”

  His heat burns holes through my skin. “What don’t you want? Say it.”

  I don’t want you to look at me the way you look at yourself. I don’t want you to learn to hate me, when I am just starting to love you.

  “I don’t want to lose you when you find out who I really am.”

  “You won’t lose me.” He says it with complete conviction. “And I know exactly who you are. You’re brave, and kind, and you take care of what’s yours. You’re good with hammers, and half-crazy old ladies, and little girls who miss their brothers. I know you try to fix the things around you, even when those broken things are people. I know you make the world a more livable place, just by being in it.”

  Ian kisses me. His lips are cold and his mouth is hot and he tastes like smoke and pine.

  I gasp against his mouth, and then his hands are moving from my face down my sides, to the small of my back where they press me against him.

  When Ian pulls away, I’m not ready. My lips tingle, and my cheeks are raw from his stubble. One hand splays across my jaw as he searches my face. A flicker of doubt enters his starburst eyes, but whatever he’s afraid of, he won’t let it stop him. Not Ian.

  “You asked me what Charlie said to me that morning in the park. He said that you were important. He asked me to take care of you because you were special, and because you were the only one who could help fix me. He said that if I was lucky, maybe I could help fix you, too.”

  I look at the boy who carried Becca like she was made of glass. The boy who walked into danger with his friends even though he thought they were doomed to fail. And I know that I love him because he’s good in a way that has nothing to do with being perfect, and everything to do with being Ian. But that doesn’t mean things won’t go wrong. It doesn’t mean he won’t get hurt, or get tired of trying, or disappear one day without a trace. But he’s worth the risk.

  The wormhole lurks.

  The shadow waits.

  And I do what I should’ve done days ago. What I’ve wanted to do ever since I met him.

  I blast a small hole through that wall inside of me, and I tell Ian the truth.

  THIRTY-SIX

  CHARLIE

  Nothing left

  but Pain and a few

  drops of Light.

  All the stars,

  they flicker.

  Their cries

  fill my head.

  I want to say,

  Don’t be afraid.

  But I am.

  Please, Rosie.

  Words

  floating down

  golden thread.

  The Black Nothing cries.

  It wants the grass

  on bare skin

  dusted with calluses,

  tickling kisses,

  pressed to bottoms

  of chubby feet.

  Remember.

  One last

  drop of Light.

  But I can’t

  hold on.

  I can’t.

  The Black Nothing comes.

  And then I don’t

  have legs.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  “Come on.” Ian takes my hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

  We follow the shadow to a small clearing about a quarter of a mile from the wormhole. The shadow stops. Relief echoes through me. Somehow, I know we’ve come as far as we can go.

  The shadow smiles its mouthless smile. I turn away from its rippling face, not ready to see what it wants to show me. There is still one thing I have to do.

  I reach up and touch Ian’s cheek. I can feel them clearly now. The dark pulse in the air, drawing my mind toward the Black Nothing. The thread in my chest tugging me toward Charlie, like it has been since I first fell into the Fold.

  Ian cradles my palm against his cheek. “I’ll be there with you. No matter what, I’ll be there to bring you back.”

  “You have to give me enough time. If you pull me back too soon, I won’t be able to find Charlie.”

  Emotions flash across Ian’s face. He couldn’t stop what happened to Will or to his parents, but he can stop me from doing this.

  “If I wait too long, you may never come back.” The way he says it leaves no doubt. Right now. In this moment. Letting me face the Black Nothing alone will be the hardest thing Ian Lawson has ever done. Because as hard as it is to leave, it is ten times worse for the one who stays behind.

  His breath hitches as Ian lays my palm across his chest, flat over his heart where it tries to beat itself into my hand.

  “It’s just pain,” I breathe into the shrinking space between us.

  “It’s not pain.” Ian presses his mouth to mine.

  And that’s when I finally understand what my mother was trying to tell me that day when she kneeled in front of me and wiped the mascara out of my hair. What Charlie meant when he held a dying rabbit on the side of a Kansas road.

  To love is to open yourself up to pain. The deepest pain there is. But it is worth feeling.

  Ian Lawson tells me he loves me, and then he proves it.

  He lets me go.

  I approach the shadow. Every step I take increases the tugging in my chest. It has thrown my entire body off balance when a storm of birds fly out of the treetops above us.

  The ground vibrates.

  I stop ten feet from the shadow. The vibrations travel through the soles of my shoes up into my limbs. The tremble becomes a shake that sets my back teeth clacking. The earth starts to move in ways it shouldn’t.

  Not if it wants to stay in one piece.

  Ian calls my name, and then time slows down and speeds up all at once.

  The land under my feet pitches sideways, taking my legs with it. The fall s
eems to last forever. By the time I hit the ground, everything looks different.

  What was flat forest a few moments ago is now an uneven patchwork quilt of land squares that don’t fit together. My eyes seek out Ian. He’s lying a few dozen yards away, dragging himself toward me on his stomach.

  I crawl toward him. We’ve almost reached each other when a fault line splits the ground under my hands. I scramble backward. There’s an earsplitting crack as the fault line widens from a centimeter to a foot.

  It keeps growing.

  When the dust settles, Ian and I face each other across a gaping chasm ten feet across.

  Ian grips the bill of his cap as he measures the distance between us.

  Too far. It’s much too far.

  He starts to back up.

  “Ian, don’t—”

  He breaks into a run.

  He’s almost at the edge of the gap when the patch of earth beneath him starts to slide. Ian grinds to a halt. His eyes meet mine just as the ground he’s standing on falls away. And then he’s … gone.

  A scream leaves my lips. I lunge toward the empty space where Ian used to be. My heart spasms when I spot him, lying on a ledge of earth thirty feet below. He climbs to his feet, shaky but in one piece. The relief of seeing him alive lasts only a few seconds.

  The earth pitches again, knocking me onto my back. This time when the ground cries, the whole world answers.

  Another fault line splits open behind me. My legs dangle over the ledge. The next quake sets the earth in front of me shooting skyward. I fall sideways.

  My temple hits the ground, sending thoughts cartwheeling through my head. When they finally settle, I am lying on a narrow ledge between the sharp drop-off that leads to Ian and a wall of solid earth that reaches up toward the sky.

  Thirty feet above my head, the shadow smiles.

  An invitation.

  A challenge.

  “Rose!” Ian calls to me. “Wait there! I’m coming!” He starts pulling himself up the wall with his good arm. He’s made it a third of the way when the dirt crumbles, sending him sliding back down to the bottom.