“Thanks, Danny…yes, Sling Blade, I promise.” Cam hung up and shoved his cell phone in his pocket.
“Is he going to be okay?” Ashley asked.
“Mrs. Evans talked to one of her friends at the hospital. Ian needed a few stitches and a tetanus shot, but nothing serious. He’s already been released.”
Ashley raked her hands through her hair. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Ice cream?”
“No. A job. Working. Pretending to be—normal,” she spat out.
“Nothing happened.”
“It almost did.”
“‘Almost’ doesn’t count. Trust me, I see the things people almost do all the time. It wasn’t Ian,” Cam said after a moment. “You were going to go after that boy.”
Ashley let out a shaky breath. “Yes.”
He glanced at her. “I won’t ask, if you don’t want me to.”
What’s your damage? he’d said, and even the memory of it sounded so much like Jase, Ashley shut her eyes against it.
Cam was quiet for a long moment. She heard him shift in the sand, the air in and out of his lungs. She focused on that, on the rhythm, and the quiet crash of the waves. Comforting sounds, and, god, she wanted to let herself be comforted.
“Look at that,” Cam said, and his voice was quiet, too, and comforting. Ashley scrubbed at her eyes under her sunglasses and looked. There were a few people on their stretch of beach, and the sky was orange and gold and endless in the evening sun. “It’s different in Savannah. You don’t get sunsets like that.”
It was an offering, a way out, and she knew that. She latched onto it. “Do you miss it?”
“No.” It came out quick and certain, but then he sighed and said, “Not the big things. Not where it matters. I miss…the humidity. I didn’t think I would, I complained about it often enough. I miss the moss. There’s moss everywhere. It makes the place look…” He went silent for a moment.
“I’ve seen pictures. It’s pretty.” She rolled her eyes at how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it seems like a nice place to live.”
“I’ve heard it can be. Do you miss Chicago?”
Ashley shrugged, but she shook her head. “It was just a place I lived. ‘Til I lived somewhere else.” She glanced at him. “Danny told you?” she guessed.
“Aunt Meg, actually.”
“You’re changing the subject on purpose.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t ask,” she said, and he smiled at that.
Still smiling, he asked, “Where else?”
“Just places.”
Cam quirked an eyebrow. “It might be easier if we went through and made a list. Subjects to avoid. Places of residence. Well, previous places of residence. Here’s nice; I like it here,” he admitted.
Ashley allowed herself a brief nod. “Yeah.”
“Family?” he asked.
“No.” Not anymore, and no one who’d given enough of a shit to stick around when there had been someone.
“Agreed.” And it was vehement enough that Ashley laughed and Cam smiled again. “Your scars,” he added. It wasn’t a question. Ashley stopped laughing, but she nodded. “Career path?”
She turned back to the sunset and tried for indifference. “Doesn’t look like that’s really going to work out for me.”
“You have to figure out something. You can’t really be a ward of the state for the rest of your life.” Ashley flinched at that, and Cam quickly said, “All right, no careers. I’m guessing no college, then?”
“Haven’t really figured that one out,” she said, and then rushed on, “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk. Really. At all. We can just sit here. Watch the sunset. Or not. You don’t have to stay, I’m fine now.”
“Oh, well, when you put it that way.” Cam stretched out, leaning back on his elbows to watch the sky. Ashley fought the urge to stretch out and relax just the same. She hugged her knees to her chest.
He was right. It was nice here.
Ashley came to, heart pounding in her ears, goose bumps prickling under a hot flush that made her stomach tremble. She hated being jolted out of dreams that way, but that’s the way it happened. She didn’t get to sleep in anymore. Not even if she wanted to. It was one of the more annoying things she’d gotten from her stint in the facility; once her necessary sleep requirements were filled, she was awake. She missed it, missed the slow steady climb into consciousness, cocooned in her blankets and pillows. And she hated the way it made her feel like a machine, switched on and off at Proom’s convenience.
She rolled over, trying to cling to the last sleepy traces that weren’t there. For a moment she was almost confused about the scritch of sand against her skin. Sand. Beach. Not there, not back there. Relief poured in, almost choking her. Here. Sugar Beach.
Cam.
Her eyes shot open. And then slammed closed again, plastering her hands over them, at the sudden silver-gilt flash of light, bright and sharp as wasp stings. No clouds tonight, then, just that goddamn moon, pouring down like a spotlight. Ashley felt out blindly, wondering if she could smell the plastic of her sunglasses amid all this sand and seaweed.
A hand closed over hers and wrapped her fingers around the knobby lines of her sunglasses. Ashley jammed them on. Tears were already streaking down her cheeks.
“Are you all right?” Cam asked.
Ashley nodded. She was. She would be. She just needed a minute. There was the crinkle of plastic, and this time Cam pressed something soft and thin into her hand. A tissue. She smiled through the pulling, itching pain of the synapses sealing back into place. “I bet you were a Boy Scout.”
She shifted carefully, so that she didn’t pull any tight muscles, and tucked her legs under her. They were cold. Of course. Temperature dropped here at night, she knew that. She hadn’t felt cold like this—real cold—since she’d been at the facility. Since that last brutal night.
She must’ve been dreaming about that, though she didn’t remember. Only sensations. The hard, frozen earth against her bare feet. The brutal, bone-deep cold that cut through their clothes like a scalpel, the sound of Jase’s breathing—raspy, faltering—and the stomach-churning realization that she hadn’t caused that. That he was sick, and that he’d started the fight on purpose.
Ashley closed her eyes. Tried to focus on the feel of the cool air against her skin. It was her own damn fault for thinking about it. She’d been watching the setting sun turn the sky pink and orange and thinking she’d never seen a sunset like this—there’d been too many trees around the facility, and anyway she’d rarely been allowed outside. In the beginning some of the time, but never for very long. They didn’t want to risk any of the subjects figuring out exactly where they were; Proom took the secret part of secret facility very seriously. Towards the end they’d kept them locked up, for the most part.
She wasn’t there anymore. She wasn’t. Maybe she’d get better and have to go back, or maybe she wouldn’t and they’d just put a bullet in her head. Today she was here, and she’d be here tomorrow. That had to mean something.
“Bad dreams? You were tossing around,” Cam explained.
“Always.”
He nodded and didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask her to talk about it, or what it was about. He’d probably put it on the list. And he hadn’t left. Why didn’t he leave? Ashley didn’t care. She only felt grateful. “About earlier. Thanks. For…” Rescuing me. It sounded stupid, so she didn’t say it.
He shrugged. “That’s what I do.”
“Saving damsels in distress?”
“Technically I think Troy would’ve been the one in distress.”
She shut her eyes against that thought, the might-have-been.
“Don’t,” Cam said. “If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t—it wouldn’t have been—” He tried again. “Ian would’ve stopped you.”
She looked at him.
“He’s your friend. You would have listened to him.”
“Liar.”
But she wanted it to be true.
“I don’t lie,” Cam said, and the edge in his voice was serrated. Then he paused and forced a smile. “I just butt in because…well, Dr. Carlyle liked to say that I have an over-inflated sense of responsibility.”
“Who’s Dr. Carlyle?”
“He was my fourteenth therapist—no, sorry, fifteenth,” he amended. “I was forgetting Dr. Shu.”
“You’ve had fifteen—”
“Thirty-two.”
“Thirty-two—”
“Including Dr. MacNamara. She’s not too bad. Considering.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Ashley said. “She’s my first.” The social workers at the group homes she’d been at didn’t count.
Cam grinned at her. It set her back for a second. Cam didn’t seem like the type of guy you expected smiles from. Or dimples. “Will you take my word for it?”
Ashley nodded before she realized what she was doing. Then it came, the realization that she would. She did.
“You can’t tell? When it gets too bad,” he added. “When you’re going to do something.”
“Sometimes.” But only sometimes. “It all feels the same after a while. The doc gave me some pills, but I don’t like them. I don’t want to get to the point—I don’t want to rely on them. Not like that.” She held up her hand. “Surgeries.”
“Quite a few of them, it looks like.”
“You said you wouldn’t ask.” It wasn’t a plea, but it was close enough. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to remember. Not now, not ever.
“I won’t. I will say that it seems like you have trouble with blood.”
“It’s because I’m a vampire.”
“Really.” His tone was cautious, and Ashley realized that his visions, he’d have seen her…attacking. Using her teeth.
“No, no,” she said quickly. “Not like that. It’s, um, bad memories.”
She could feel him looking at the scars on her arms, legs. “With blood.”
“Yes.”
He was still staring. She followed his gaze to one particular knot of scars on her leg. She wondered if he could make any sense out of that knotwork. Brody’d pegged it for the bite marks it was, but that was Brody, and Jase had just latched on and taken out a chunk, so it didn’t look like much more than a mess. She fought the urge to cover it with her hand. “Cam?”
His gaze snapped back up. “Yes?”
“I wanted to ask you.” Ashley let out a hard breath. Her stomach was jumping. “I was…I was thinking. About you being psychic.”
“Yes.”
“I thought that you could, maybe, hang out with me. You know, let me know when it gets too bad, so I can get out, so I don’t hurt anyone. Not like a friend, you know, a job. I could pay you.” Maybe. Somehow. Maybe Brody would give her a don’t-fuck-up allowance.
“I already am.”
“No, I meant professionally. A job. We’re not friends, I don’t expect—”
He put a hand on her arm. Touches. Meg was big on touches, too. His hand seemed so steady and strong against her arm. She was stronger, she knew that. She was stronger than everyone here. She could break him if she wanted, bit by bit. But it didn’t feel that way. “I am. I will. I promise.” He took his hand away from her arm and held it out for her. “Deal.”
Ashley stared at his hand like it was a weapon. Her heart was sprinting, a quicksilver of fear and elation racing through her veins. Hope, she realized. This is hope.
Don’t trust it.
“I don’t even know you,” she said.
Cam was silent for a moment. “I don’t think it matters,” he said finally. “I’ll see something whether you trust me or not.”
“And if you see something, you stop it.”
“Yes.”
“And if you can’t?”
“I try,” he said shortly.
She shook his hand quickly, and quickly let go. “Deal.”
Ch. 10
The baseball soared up, white against the clear blue sky. The arc of it was high and fast and smooth. It was distracting, actually; Cam wondered if Liz knew that and exploited it. There were some people who got so good at something that they made it look easy. And then there were some people that got so good it went beyond a simple “easy,” the ones with that combination of talent and precision and beauty that it made you want to sit back and watch because, holy shit. Liz playing baseball was like that. It was distracting, especially if you were playing in the team against her, and especially if you were playing outfield and were supposed to make a concerted effort to catch the ball that was spearing towards the ground.
Cam didn’t manage to catch it, but he saw it start to roll away and managed to dive on it like a grenade.
Danny jogged up to him, struggling not to smile. “Okay, so just as an FYI, that’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”
“Really.” Cam pushed himself up, clapping the dirt off his pants.
“No, man, but I appreciate that you were willing to sacrifice yourself and save the rest of us from the ball. Real noble of you.” He grabbed an arm and hauled Cam to his feet.
Tyler headed over to them, grabbing the baseball and lobbing it over to Liz. “So, uh, your parents not believe in real-people games either?”
“They did, actually,” Cam told him. “I’m just terrible at them.”
“Seriously. Maybe we should switch you to Liz’s team. Might even things up. And you won’t need to try so hard. She’s doing all the work.”
The three had taken Cam’s acceptance to the movie marathon last week as a green light, apparently, and they’d started dragging him along for everything. Well, it was—Cam chided himself to be fair—not so much dragging as extending invitations, and Cam, to his surprise, didn’t turn them down very often. He found he was beginning to enjoy the company. Today they were at the baseball field beside the high school, doing their part with a pick-up game Liz and the other Sandies counselors had organized.
He had debated calling Ashley and asking her to come. The first week of their arrangement had passed without incident, though there had been a few “almosts.” Today was the first day he hadn’t seen her so far. Usually there was a glimpse of her at Paco’s at lunch, and he and Meg had eaten at Brody’s three times this week; Aunt Meg had latched onto the idea of him and Ashley being friends with a vengeance, and in fact there’d been mention of Brody and Ashley coming over to Meg’s tonight—
Maybe it was because he was thinking about it. Later, he would hate the idea that he’d willed it into existence. But Cam straightened abruptly and said, “Excuse me, I—need some water,” and hurried off the field, fishing his cell out of his pocket. She was number four on his speed dial.
It rang eight times, and then went to voice mail. Cam hung up and dialed again. This time she picked up on the second ring. “Red light—”
“I know,” she snapped.
He knew it wasn’t at him, but something about her voice set his teeth on edge, and he snapped back. “You didn’t pick up.”
“Excuse me, Dad. You call me, there’s only one reason, right? I figured it was better to get the fuck out of there.”
“Fine, get the fuck out of there. But pick up the phone. You’re—” he tried to catch himself, but it was already out “—my responsibility—”
“Responsibility?”
“—I need to know you’re okay.”
Silence. Then, calmer, “You could text, you know.”
He knew it. But he didn’t like texting. He…liked hearing her voice. “Please. Pick up if I call again.”
“When,” she corrected him bitterly.
“You’re right, we should be optimistic about this. Can’t hurt.”
A pause. “Don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t do that.” But he could hear the smile. She took a deep breath, let it out in a harsh rush. “Bad?”
Cam hesitated. “Not as bad as last time,” he said, and the silence on th
e other end made his stomach clench. “Maybe you should stay away from Paco’s.”
“I like tacos.”
Cam fought the impulse to say that sometimes you had to give up on what you liked, but it made him think of Naomi, and he didn’t want to consider why that was. Besides, it was just him being mean, and bitter, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on Ashley. “Just so happens I am starting a taco delivery service. You can be my first customer.” It was lame, but she laughed, and there, that was why he called. “Okay, not Paco’s. Just that one guy.”
“Brody says I need to get used to people. Build up a tolerance.”
“Tolerate doesn’t mean you have to stay in the same room. Especially if they like to pick fights with everyone. Why does Paco allow him back?”
“I have no idea. I thought…you were coming here,” she added quietly.
“Oh.” What?
“I mean, I’m not—it’s just that you—Danny and you guys usually come here for lunch, and I…forget it.” He heard air against the handset, and the crash of the ocean, and a muttered, “God, Ashley.”
“We’re at the high school,” Cam said, not exactly sure how to proceed. “Liz asked us to help them practice. The Sandies counselors are playing against another camp in Morro Bay.”
“That sounds like fun. Thanks,” she added awkwardly. “For calling.”
“Ashley, wait. Why don’t you come?” he pushed forward before she could hang up. “Here. I’m terrible at this, and you’re fast. There’s a bu—a group of us here. Danny, and Sneaky Pete, too. You could still work on building up a tolerance.”
She was silent for so long he thought she might’ve gone. “I…I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think I should run this out. I—sorry.” She hung up.
When he turned back, Tyler was staring at him. “What the hell was that?”
“Nothing. I had to call a friend,” Cam said.
Supernormal Page 8