by Laura Burns
Sarah let out a long sigh that felt like it came from deep in her belly. She opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t know what to say. Guess I’m not done leaving all my crap behind, she thought ruefully. “Sorry.”
“Can you tell me what all that was about?” he asked gently.
“It’s just … It’s happened before. When I’ve done really well on a test,” she said. “Some teachers assumed I cheated. Even though I would read chem books for fun. The first time I was sitting next to a kid who got a hundred too. A kid who everyone knew was really smart with a nice PTA mom. The teacher was sure I copied. Then it got in the file.”
“And the file followed you everywhere. I won’t lie, I saw it,” Dr. Diaz said. “But what I got from your records was that you were strong and determined, as well as exceptionally bright. You had so many strikes against you, changing homes, changing schools, but it didn’t stop you from achieving.”
Sarah hesitated. Should she tell him about her memory? “Thanks,” she said. “But I … I didn’t have trouble with schoolwork even though I changed schools so much. I have a kind of strange brain. I can remember basically everything, all the textbooks, and that helps.”
Dr. Diaz narrowed his eyes, studying her. “When you say you remember everything…”
“Everything I’ve read, everything that’s happened to me. Even stuff from when I was really little,” Sarah explained. “I told the teachers that all along, but they said it had to be my imagination, that I can’t possibly have memories from when I was two or three. I do, though. Vivid ones. I remember the tag on this stuffed animal I had, even though I lost it at the playground when I was in preschool. It said, ‘Under penalty of law, this tag not to be removed except by consumer. All new material consisting of polyester fib—’”
“One second.” Dr. Diaz got up and rooted around in his backpack.
“I guess I could have memorized that off some toy last month. It doesn’t prove anything. But I remember it from when I was a kid. Before I’d even heard the word ‘polyester.’ Before I knew how to write. I remembered the shapes of the letters, and later, when I knew how to read, I understood what it had said.”
Dr. Diaz sat back down and handed her a paperback called The River Why. “Ever read this?”
“Never even heard of it,” Sarah answered.
“Great book. Covers all the big stuff—philosophy and fishing.” He opened it to a page in the middle and handed it to her. “Read a page for me.”
“You mean out loud?”
“No, just to yourself. I want to try a little experiment. If you don’t mind,” he added quickly.
“You don’t believe me.”
Dr. Diaz sighed. “I’m not doing too well with you, am I? I believe you. I believe everything you’ve told me. I think you might have something called hyperthymesia, perhaps combined with an eidetic memory.”
“Eidetic is a photographic memory. I’ve definitely got that. But what’s hyperthymesia?” Sarah asked. She remembered every word she’d ever seen, but she’d never seen that one.
“It’s where a person can recall every day of their life in extreme detail,” Dr. Diaz explained. “The temporal and the parietal lobes are significantly larger in people with HSAM, hyperthymesia, than those in the average person. They’re the parts of the brain linked to autobiographical memory.”
“Sounds like me,” Sarah said.
“I’ve never met someone with a brain like yours. Honestly, I’m curious to see it in action, that’s all. It’s the scientist in me, or the doctor, I guess. You know I’m also the school doctor, right?”
“Yeah.” Sarah had read the bios of all her teachers on the school intranet and so knew them by heart.
“I didn’t mean to sound like I was doubting you. It’s not that.”
“It’s okay.” She’d never had a teacher apologize to her before.
“I’ve read that having an exceptional memory can sometimes be a burden. That people can get a little lost in their memories,” Dr. Diaz commented.
“Tell me about it,” Sarah said with a laugh. Now that she knew he didn’t think she was crazy, the words rushed out. “It can be intense. Sometimes it’s like I’m reliving the memories, with full-on smells and tastes and sensations. They almost overpower me. In my file it says people thought I was on drugs or having seizures, but that’s why. I have some … not good memories, and when they come back, sometimes I react like they’re actually happening again. Anyway…” She turned her attention to the book, read a page, then handed it to him, and began to recite.
“Word perfect,” he said. “So was it like you were seeing the words again?”
She nodded.
“Fascinating.” He smiled. “I hope you don’t feel like a lab rat.”
“As long as my eyes haven’t turned pink, I’m okay,” she said. “Actually, it’s good to talk about it this way, like it’s science, instead of like I’m a freak.”
“I’ll tell you something I’ve figured out as a high school teacher and as a former teenager. Everyone feels like a freak sometimes, especially at your age,” Dr. Diaz said. “It gets better, but it never completely goes away. I speak from experience.”
Sarah tried to keep the skepticism off her face. Ethan was too arrogant to think of himself as a freak. Izzy was too. And Karina? How could someone so beautiful, somebody everyone in school loved, feel freaky? Or someone as popular as Nate, even with his screwed-up, pre-Sanctuary Bay life?
Dr. Diaz grinned. “Some people have a better façade than others, but get to know someone, really know them, and you’ll see.” He stood up. “Go eat lunch. I’ve kept you too long. We’ll talk about your college plans another time, anytime you want. I’m around. As you know, we’re on an island.”
“Okay. Sounds good.” Sarah grabbed her stuff and started toward the door.
“And Sarah,” Dr. Diaz called after her. She looked over her shoulder. “We can talk about other stuff too. Like if your memories start feeling overwhelming. Or if you just need help navigating Sanctuary Bay.”
“Thanks,” she said, and she meant it.
* * *
Sarah glanced at the Board in the hall outside her last class. There were more kids around it than usual, snickering at the latest messages about Maya and Ms. Winston. It was all anyone had been talking about.
Don’t they get that these people are real? she wondered. She kept thinking about Nate. She hadn’t seen him since the text bomb. They didn’t have any classes together, and he was a no-show at lunch.
She couldn’t resist pulling her cell from her pocket when she reached the main staircase. As she climbed, she opened the map. There was a function that could show the location of anyone at the school. She hesitated. It felt like an invasion of privacy. But everyone else seemed to use it all the time.
When she reached the first landing, she lowered her voice and said, “Locate Nate.”
“Basement stairwell main building,” the cell replied.
Sarah glanced down at the screen. There was a purple dot, her, and then a yellow dot, showing Nate’s location near the main entrance.
Then he vanished.
Sarah blinked in surprise. “Locate Nate,” she said again.
The cell was silent for a long moment, her own purple dot pulsing alone on the screen. Finally it spoke. “Student offline.”
5
Sarah shoved herself out of bed. She’d tried mind-over-bladder to convince herself she didn’t have to pee so she could stay snuggled under her comforter, but it hadn’t worked. Something’s off, she thought, frowning as she started for the door.
She was alone. Karina’s bed was empty. So was Izzy’s. Did they sneak off together again? Were they back to being friends? She grabbed her cell off the night table and checked the time. Almost one. She hesitated, then said, “Locate Karina.”
A yellow dot appeared on the screen, moving across the back lawn toward the dining hall. At least it had come up. Nate’s had never returned after it
vanished from the screen earlier. “Locate Izzy,” she said. A second dot appeared next to the first. What were they doing out there in the middle of the night?
None of my business, she thought. She hurried to the bathroom, grimacing as her bare feet found one of the floor’s icy cold spots, then returned to her room. Her empty room.
Seriously, where were they? They told her everything else. Why would they sneak out without her? Sarah’s mind buzzed with possibilities, but nothing made sense. The whole school had thrown her off balance lately, from the unexplained dining hall changes to the student-teacher sex. Not to mention Nate’s on-and-off flirting, and Ethan’s annoying hotness.
But Izzy and Karina were the worst part. She liked them. She wanted to trust them. But how could she when they didn’t tell her the truth? Sarah hated uncertainty. She needed to know where she stood with people; it’s how she survived.
“Screw it,” she muttered. She yanked on a pair of jeans and one of her old sweatshirts. The pale gray sweater that used to be Izzy’s would be too easy to see in the dark. As soon as she jammed on her sneakers, she left, her eyes glued to the dots moving across the screen of her cell. Karina and Izzy were at the edge of the woods.
Sarah trotted down the two sets of stairs and out the back exit. The teachers took turns as dorm monitors, but they were all pretty lax about it. Maybe they figured there wasn’t much trouble to get into on an island.
Frost had covered the grass and moisture soaked through the thin canvas of her shoes in seconds. She shivered. She was crazy to be out here at this hour. She should go climb back under her warm covers and leave her roommates alone to do … whatever it was they were doing.
But she kept going. Even when she entered the woods and realized the trees were so thick in places she didn’t have a glimmer of moonlight to guide her, she continued. Finally, when she’d walked the forest equivalent of a couple of blocks, the dots on her cell stopped.
Sarah slowed her pace as she closed in on them. Each time a pine bough slapped at her or her foot landed on a stick, she was sure they were going to hear. And what then? How would she explain being out here? Why was she out here?
Because it’s too fucking weird for the two of them to be in the woods in the middle of the night, that’s why, Sarah thought. She had to know what they were doing.
She crept forward. A yellow light glowed from between the tree branches, and she heard a soft scraping sound followed by a muffled thump. Sarah inched closer—scrape thump, scrape thump—and saw that she’d almost reached a clearing. She pressed her body tightly behind the rough trunk of one of the pines.
Torches. The first thing she saw was actual torches with flames. Three of them were stuck into the ground, casting a flickering light over a clearing around an enormous pine tree, one that towered over the others. Izzy and Karina stood beneath it with Nate. The scrape and thump she’d heard was someone—a guy Sarah didn’t know—digging a deep hole, long and narrow.
Sarah’s heart lurched against her ribs. A grave.
Maybe the cat she’d seen hanging around the Admin building had died and they were burying it, she thought wildly, desperate for some sort of normal explanation. The hole was too big for a cat though. Way too big.
Suddenly another sound came from the forest. Footsteps.
Sarah pressed herself closer to the tree trunk, the coarse wood biting into her flesh even through her sweatshirt. Four boys appeared from the shadows at the far end of the clearing. On their shoulders, they carried a coffin.
As they moved across the clearing past Sarah’s hiding spot, she heard a scratching, scrabbling sound, followed by a muted scream. Someone was in there! Sarah’s eyes darted back to Izzy, Karina, and Nate. They just stood there. No horror on their faces. No cries of protest.
They only watched, calm and silent, as the coffin was lowered into the grave, the screams from inside growing louder, and as the boy with the shovel began covering the coffin with earth. Burying someone alive.
Sarah stumbled away from the tree, horrified. She had to get out of here. But her feet crunched on a broken branch on the ground, and Nate’s head jerked in her direction. Terrified, Sarah froze. Nate’s caramel eyes met hers, no trace of warmth in them. He signaled to two of the boys who’d carried the coffin, and they started toward her.
Sarah whipped around and ran, but they were on her in seconds. One of them yanked her hands behind her back and tied them together. “Get off me!” Sarah screamed. Something was tossed over her head, then a wad of cloth was jammed into her mouth. A pair of hands grabbed each of her shoulders, and she was half pushed, half dragged through the woods. She fought, twisting, trying to dig her heels into the ground, but her sneakers just slid on the slippery pine needles, and the boys were too strong.
It wasn’t until the ground smoothed out that she was even sure they were taking her in the direction of the school. They had to be moving across the back lawn now. But even if she could scream, there was no one to hear her. It was too late for anyone to be out. Except the people who’d snatched her.
What were they going to do to her? She’d seen them bury someone alive! Would they kill her too?
The guys slowed, and Sarah heard a door open. Were they taking her back into the school? Maybe they would just throw her in her room and tell her to keep her mouth shut if she didn’t want to end up in a hole in the woods too.
But instead of pulling her over to the stairs and up, she was yanked through another door not too far from the first one. “Stairs,” one of them grunted. Soon she was being roughly steered down a set of steps, then across a wide room. Their footsteps echoed.
They stopped, and Sarah heard a key jiggling in a lock, then a squeak of hinges. “Stairs,” he said again. The hands on her shifted. It felt like only one person was behind her now, with one hand digging into each shoulder.
“I’ll go first,” one of them said. They started down again, the air growing colder and colder, chilling her through.
These steps were bumpy and uneven under her feet, unlike the first set. While the room had felt cavernous, the stairway felt narrow and claustrophobic. Her arms brushed against the walls. They were wet, and there was the smell of decay. Where the fuck were they?
The steps ended and she was taken down a hallway. She heard a metallic clang, and then she was shoved, hard, sending her sprawling to her knees. “Wait here until we figure out what to do with you.” There was another clang, and the sound of footsteps moving away.
Sarah used her tongue to work the wad of cloth out of her mouth, choking and coughing. She jerked her head back and forth until her head covering fell off. It was somebody’s jacket.
Sarah struggled to her feet. It was hard without being able to use her hands for support. She stood in a ragged stone cell with a door made of rusty bars. A large, tarnished lock held it closed.
Panic started to overwhelm her, but she forced it down. Hands first, she told herself. She tried to get control over her ragged breathing as she gently twisted her wrists back and forth. Slowly, steadily, the binding was loosening. A few more twists and it fell to the floor, also stone. The whole cell had been hacked out of a massive hunk of rock.
That first day Karina had mentioned something like this. Sarah took a deep breath, and each of Karina’s exact words came back to her. “The school is built over the remains of a POW camp from World War Two. At one point it got blasted to bits by a bomb, and the whole operation was moved into the bomb shelter underneath. They made it bigger, carved rooms right out of the stone. Nazi soldiers were kept here during the war. Actual Nazis. Their cells are still down there.”
So that’s where she was, trapped under the school. She circled the small room. Damp, phosphorescent patches of mold gave the walls a faint, sickly yellow glow and a tiny sliver of moonlight beamed in from a slit high above her. The room must go straight through to one of the cliffs over the ocean, she thought. Not that it was of any help to Sarah, but it was something.
Avoiding the
mold, she sat down in the middle of the cell. She needed a plan. Nobody would hear her scream, not with the ocean pounding against the rocks. But eventually someone would come for her, unless they decided to let her starve down here. Which maybe they would, since they’d already buried somebody else alive.
She shivered. No, she couldn’t think that way. Someone would come for her. And they’d have to come into the cell to get her. The door wasn’t that wide. Maybe two of them could get through at the same time. She needed some kind of weapon. Her eyes darted around. All this stone, but not a loose rock anywhere.
Maybe she could convince them she wouldn’t say anything, that she wasn’t a threat. She could tell them the truth. That the school was her one shot at a decent life, that all she wanted was to graduate and she wouldn’t do anything to screw that up, including running to the dean with a story she probably wouldn’t believe.
Nate was class president. Karina was the daughter of a Hollywood power couple. Izzy was the daughter of high-level Boston society types. Who would believe Sarah’s word over theirs?
Nobody.
And maybe, for once in her life, that was a good thing. She was powerless. If she could make them see that there was no way she could hurt them, they’d let her go. They could move the body. There’d be no evidence that she could point to. Except that there’d be a person missing, but that wasn’t any kind of proof. It could’ve been some guy who worked in the kitchen that nobody even knew. Or a janitor. Someone unimportant. Someone no one would care about. Someone like her.
No one will come looking for me, Sarah thought. Izzy and Karina can say I fell off Suicide Cliff, and that will be that.
She pushed the thought away. She had to focus on staying positive.
So that was the plan. She’d start talking as soon as she heard someone coming toward the cell. She forced herself to believe—even though they had thoroughly conned her—that Karina and Izzy wouldn’t hurt her, not if they didn’t have to. Nate either.