by Amy Richie
Chapter Five
“So let me get this straight,” Toby’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had pulled his legs under him until he was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed. The mattress underneath him had given in to gravity and was trying to pull me closer, so I was pressed as close to the bottom of the bed as the hard plastic frame would allow. “Nona wants me to take you to a safe place - away from here?”
“She said Tristan would be coming soon,” I nodded.
“He was already here. Twice.”
“He didn’t try to kill me.” My voice was low but my implication was clear. Maybe Nona was wrong about Tristan.
“Not yet.”
“He saved me today.”
“The Cursed can’t hurt you.”
My fingers traced the outline of the bandage across my forehead, arguing with Toby when my words failed me. I didn’t blame them really- I had abandoned them for thirteen years.
“That was your own clumsy feet,” he shot out just as quickly.
“They were…” My lips snapped closed at his glare.
“They were doing what they were created for.” He looked over at me but his eyes only glazed over my face, not really seeing anything.
The Cursed were created just to scare the hell out of me? Nineteen years and today was the day to start? I sucked in my breath and held it there, waiting for Toby to say what we would do next.
“And that’s all she said? Tristan was coming so I needed to take you somewhere safe?”
“Pretty much.” No way was I telling Toby that she wanted me to destroy Tristan. I knew exactly what he would say about that.
His lips pursed until his jaw throbbed. “It looks like we don’t have much choice, huh Crazy?”
“Can you…” It felt strange asking Toby for help. Normally, I tried my best to pretend he wasn’t there.
“Can I what?” he growled.
“W…will you be able to keep Tristan away from here? It seems like he just pops up whenever he feels like it.”
“We have to leave.”
My eyebrows furrowed until my forehead felt tight with my confusion. “Leave Nine Crosses?”
“Look,” he held his hand out in front of him, “I know this place is a wonderful home for you, but it’s time to leave.”
“They won’t just let me leave.” I didn’t like how panicked my voice sounded. I wasn’t all that attached to bed B in room 36, but it was safe here. Or at least, it used to be. I wasn’t so sure anymore. “We should stay here…where it’s safe.”
“There is nowhere safe for you, Crazy.” His finger traced an unseen pattern on the grey blanket.
I had already guessed that, so his words didn’t scare me very much. “They’ll find me where ever I go?”
“Afraid so.”
“Then what’s the point of running from them?” I scooted off the edge of the bed and hurried across the room into the small bathroom. The water didn’t work on the sink so I couldn’t even splash my flushed face with cold water.
“You just want to stay here like a sitting duck?” Toby’s brash voice filled and then over filled the space inside the bathroom. “Give up?”
“How about accepting my fate?” I brushed past Toby, our arms touching on my way back out into the room. It was the closest we had ever been. I expected him to be cold like the other ghosts instead of the heat that boiled off of him. Fire rushed into my cheeks, creating a thin line of moisture on my upper lip.
“Your fate isn’t to be killed by Tristan.” He followed close behind me.
“Really? Cuz that’s how it sounds to me. I can’t hide from them, I can’t run. How can you fight a ghost? Even if I could throw a punch - it’s not going to hurt them.” I was talking louder than I should and I knew it; it was hard to reign in the emotion though.
“I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” he growled. “Fine,” he sprawled out on the bed, “you’re not really worth the effort anyways.”
“The more times you say that, the less bite it has.” My lips jutted out into a pout but I held my ground.
Toby laughed outright, shocking the pout off my face. “Can’t help it, Crazy. All the years I’ve been alive, all the generations I have witnessed - you are the most pathetic human I have met.”
“Why?” I shrugged one shoulder. “Because my mom tried to kill me and my dad thinks I’m crazy?”
He moved his eyes to look up at me until only the whites of them were showing. “Nah, that’s not it. I don’t care if you’re crazy; I’ve known a lot of crazy humans.”
“Ren?” The door opened suddenly, cutting off all the questions I wanted to ask Toby. How long had he lived? And were they all crazy because of him? If he was with them, maybe they could see ghosts too. Was it possible that I wasn’t the only one?
“Ren?” Doctor Moore stood just inside the door, watching me. “Are you alright?”
I nodded mutely.
“Who were you talking to?”
I glanced automatically at the bed where Toby was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Doctor Moore waited, but of course I didn’t tell him.
“Nurse Grey informed me of your accident.” He motioned me forward so he could examine my face more closely. “How did this happen?”
“She tripped over the glider,” an aide supplied the answer when I continued to remain silent.
“And you spoke.” It wasn’t a question. “Who did you think was trying to kill you?”
The ghosts.
“Did someone threaten you?”
Yes.
“Were you thinking of your mother?”
“No.”
He half smiled at the sound of my voice. “I’m glad you’re finding your voice, Ren.”
I turned away from him, hoping that I made it clear that I didn’t want to talk to him. Speaking to Toby had opened floodgates I wasn’t sure how to close again.
“We’ll meet again in my office tomorrow.” He turned slowly away, his eyes lingering at the now empty bed.
“You know, I’ve always suspected that he was into you,” Toby said loudly from his new position leaning against the wall beside the now closing door.
“Maybe you’re right,” I whispered when the door was finally closed.
“Don’t tell me you like him too?” His face twisted into a look of disgust. “Is that why you don’t want to leave here?”
“No!” Irritation made my nose crinkle slightly. “I meant we might have to leave.” I could be killed in my bed and no one would even know. I wouldn’t be able to get away through the locked door. If I stayed here, Tristan would get to me for sure. If I left with Toby, I might have a chance. Maybe Toby knew more than he was saying.
“Hmmm,” he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back to stare at me. “What made you change your mind?”
“Maybe I just don’t want to die some horrible death at the hands of the ghosts.” Wasn’t he the one saying we needed to leave? Why was he being so hesitant now?
“You’ll probably still die a horrible death- just not at the hands of the ghosts; as you call them.”
“I know you say they can’t hurt me, but they made me fall.”
“Your fear made you fall.”
Who wouldn’t be afraid? Toby talked like my fear was a disgusting weakness, but who wouldn’t be afraid? “So, when do we leave?” I asked in a low hiss. Better not to think of my eventual death until I had to.
“Tonight.”
“So soon?”
“Why wait?”
“Don’t we need some sort of… plan or something?”
“The plan is,” he disappeared briefly and then reappeared to finish his sentence as if he never left, “to get out of here without being seen by the nurses or guards.”
“Could I just sign myself out? I’m over eighteen.”
“It would take too long. We’ll have to use this.” A small metal object clanked to the floor. A key.
“Is that to the door?” I scooped the key up
in my hand. “How did you get this?”
“I have my ways.” He bowed slightly at the waist. “Get some rest.” He held one finger up to stop my protest. “You’ll need it.”
Like it so often happened, my body obeyed Toby even when I wanted to tell him where to stick it. I laid on top of the stiff grey blanket that Toby had vacated not long before and stared up at the off white ceiling.
My eyes refused to close, instead tracing the pale yellow designs that some old water damage had created. We would leave tonight, this would be the last time I would be sleeping in this bed. Toby had gotten the key that would unlock my prison. How had he done that anyways? He was a ghost; how had he carried a key?