The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  His voice sharpened. “Convince her.”

  Bryn drew back against her chair. “I’ll try. I mean I’ll let her know.”

  I watched them set Bryn up in the observation chair, the owl I’d seen at the farmhouse tucked under her arm.

  “In case Sam comes in,” she said, even though I knew it offered her more comfort than she let on.

  Dr. Banz was speaking with one of the nurses and going over Bryn’s chart, Vogle standing next to them though his eyes were pinned to the window. I made my way over to him, peering through the blinds at the dimly lit parking lot.

  “What’s wrong?” I said, keeping my voice low.

  He shifted, keeping his back to Bryn and Dr. Banz. “Something…”

  “Something’s out there?”

  He cocked his head. “Wait here.” And then he headed for the hallway.

  I brushed Bryn’s arm as I rushed after him. “I’ll be right back.”

  I caught up with Vogle by the time he reached the service door leading out into the alley.

  “I told you to wait inside,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, if there’s something dangerous out here I’d rather find it before it finds me or Bryn.”

  Vogle reached the parking lot and I followed him over the concrete mediums, trying to keep up. But every surge of wind cut straight through me, my legs already aching.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, hoping Vogle might slow to answer me.

  He didn’t. Instead he let out a breathy laugh. “You afraid of the dark?”

  “No.” I quickened my pace until our strides matched.

  “Good. You might as well get used to it now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Vogle held up a hand, listening. I didn’t hear anything but after a few minutes of standing at the edge of the parking lot something ambled out of the shadows. I took a step back.

  “It’s just a stray dog,” Vogle said, before continuing on.

  We reached the mouth of an alley and Vogle finally stopped. He was perfectly still, listening again, but all I could hear was the wind.

  “Will you at least tell me what you saw?” I said, looking back toward the direction of the hospital. We were too far, every step in the opposite direction getting harder and harder to take.

  “Saw…” Vogle repeated. “I didn’t…it was more like a feeling. Like I was being watched.”

  “But by what?”

  When Vogle realized the sound of his footsteps was ringing in the alleyway alone he looked back at me.

  “Do you mean the shadows?” I asked.

  His eyes swept the darkness once more. “I’m not sure.”

  “Bryn said you’ve killed one before,” I said.

  Vogle gave a slight nod. “I’ve destroyed a few. Didn’t matter much though.” He got ahead of me. “Do you feel that?”

  When the cold had numbed my fingers I wondered how I’d even be able to sense the shadow in the dark or if the cold would shield it. But as soon as Vogle spoke those words my veins were already hardening, my muscles and tendons straining and ready to snap.

  “Look,” he said. “You can see them.”

  I searched the darkness. “I can’t.”

  “Try.”

  He gripped me hard and I flinched at the heat coming from his palm. His hand looked just like mine had during that workout session with Craig.

  “Try, Roman.”

  Heat raged through my shoulder, my veins boiling. The flames poured from him and into me, burning to the balls of my feet. I blinked. I looked up again and the darkness was everywhere.

  Vogle pulled me behind a loading van as shadows slithered around the air vents. It looked like ink dropped into a vat of water, each one expanding and dripping down. Their massive silhouettes hid the moon, sheaths like black holes that looked cosmic one second and dangerously human the next.

  I looked back at him. “How many of them are there?”

  “Too many.”

  “Do you think they sense Bryn nearby?” I whispered.

  “Maybe, except now that she’s awake maybe she’s a little harder to find.”

  As the shadows swarmed the roof of the building, all I could think about was what it felt like to have one of them inside me. The one shadow I’d been faced with hadn’t destroyed me like it intended to do with Bryn and Sam. Instead, I’d been the one to destroy it. Just that one had hurt like hell but what if I wasn’t meant to destroy just one?

  Suddenly there was a sharp flash and Vogle and I both stumbled, the light washing the night a nauseating white.

  “Did you do—?”

  “No,” Vogle cut me off. “They did.”

  Vogle got to his feet and I followed him as he raced back toward the alley.

  “Who’s they?” I asked,

  “I don’t know,” he called back. “But I knew we were being followed.” He stopped against a wall, lifting a hand and signaling quiet.

  There were footsteps. Voices. A spotlight pinned us against the wall and then we were completely exposed.

  “Vogle…”

  I looked to my left but the light was so bright that I couldn’t even see if he was still there.

  “Tie them up,” a voice said.

  Four dark forms approached and my hands were slammed against the wall. I tried to force them into flames again but the light kept sputtering out. A face came into view and for a second I thought the man was laughing.

  Vogle struggled next to me, his wrists melting the straps meant to tie him down. He reared back and punched one of the men in the face but then the other pressed something to his neck, a blue bolt of electricity shuddering through Vogle’s body. He collapsed and then they dragged both of us into the back of a truck.

  31

  Bryn

  Dreaming this time was like coming up for air after drowning. My entire body ached as gravity pulled me back down, the grass fluttering against my skin in the breeze. It was damp and cold and I itched.

  “This one’s mine.”

  I blinked and saw Sam. “Where are we?”

  There was a tent over my head, sunlight casting long shadows against the exterior. A red beam of light cut through a narrow slit in the fabric and I held a hand out. It was warm. Sam was clutching a pillow, one of many strewn across the bare floor.

  “Sometimes my mom lets me sleep in the backyard in a tent,” Sam said.

  I crawled toward the opening, slow, waiting for the ache in my skull to dissipate.

  “Don’t,” Sam stopped me.

  I looked back at her. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know what’s out there yet,” she said.

  “I thought we were in your backyard.”

  Sam shook her head.

  “What if I…?” I reached for the fabric covering the doorway.

  “No.” Sam reached for me. “Sometimes there’s bad things out there.”

  “Like the shadows?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Can I just look?”

  She didn’t answer, just crawled over next to me as I folded back the door to peer out.

  I expected the grass to spiral out into some kind of forest or field. But my palm grazed concrete, cracked glass glittering against the pavement. We were in the middle of an alleyway.

  “Do you recognize this place?” I asked.

  “No, do you?”

  “No.” I took a step out, my head exposed.

  “Bryn…”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just going to look around.”

  Sam held tight to my hand, following behind me. I stepped on a broken bottle, glass crunching beneath my feet and Sam trembled. Something moved at the far end of the alley, footsteps fading off down the street. I held a finger to my lips and Sam nodded.

  Decrepit fire escapes and rusting doors cinched us in, the empty dumpsters scattered haphazardly like a maze. We wound through sludge and cardboard boxes and shattered crates, examining every door for some kind of store name or add
ress.

  The sun disappeared in an instant and we stumbled, Sam falling against my chest as I fell against the hard brick wall. I heard buzzing, a few lights stuttering on across the street. There was a crack, the light exploding into darkness, but just before the embers settled, Sam squeezed my hand and then I saw why.

  The shadow crawled across the night like a pulse, ice crystals climbing the fire escapes and settling within the grout.

  “Bryn?”

  I pushed Sam behind me, shielding her with the dumpster as she buried her face in my back.

  “Do we wake up now?” she said.

  “Try,” I whispered but I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me. The cold was thick and it crept down the back of my throat. It coated my vocal cords until there was a crack, the skin tearing, blood freezing in thick drops that tore into me every time I took a breath.

  The shadow swelled over our heads, my insides slowing, my feet frozen to the ground. I bent my knee, trying to force my way back. One step. One more.

  But all I wanted was to stop. To close my eyes and let it swaddle me. It felt like my bones were breaking, my insides turned to glass and trying to cut straight through me. Sam shuddered, her silent sobs the only heat.

  One more step.

  Sam moved too, both of us pushing. I wondered if she was still trying to wake herself up. I wondered when I’d stopped. But all I could think about was the cold.

  There was a crash, a door slamming against the frozen wall and sending ice glittering against the pavement.

  A woman peered out, eyes wide on us as she yelled, “Run!”

  The shadow seemed to quaver, the cold letting up for just a second. But a second was all it took for me to pull Sam out from behind that dumpster and in through the opened doorway.

  The door slammed closed, cold air snuffed out in one last gasp. In the dark all I could hear was the chattering of teeth, Sam’s chin digging into my side as she hid her face. The woman flicked on a light, the two of us shivering in the center of the room.

  “Here,” the woman said, her accent subtle. “Away from the windows.”

  We followed her through another doorway covered in a hanging tapestry and emerged in some kind of shop. Shelves and display cases lined the walls and were filled with wooden trinkets and candles and music boxes.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Cologne. Nordstadt.” She looked confused.

  “Are we still dreaming?” Sam asked, finally looking up.

  “Dreaming?” the woman asked. “I’m certainly not dreaming. Here.” She pressed the back of her hand to Sam’s face. “Still got the chills.” She rushed out of the room and came back with some hot tea, handing it to Sam.

  Sam held the cup in her hands, her fingers turning from white to pink.

  “Well, drink up.” The woman held out a glass for me to take.

  “Wait.” I pressed a hand over Sam’s tea before she could take a sip. “How did you know we spoke English?”

  The woman looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “When we were in the alley,” I said. “You told us to run. But you didn’t say it in German. You said it in English. How did you know we spoke English?”

  She kneaded her apron, head cocked and eyes wide. Then they narrowed, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. A shadow flickered behind her pupils and then they were black.

  “Sam, go!”

  I pushed her toward the front of the shop before throwing the scalding tea at the woman. She chased after us, pushing a large shelf until it swayed and crashed to the floor, littering the ground between us and the door with sharp landmines. Sam tripped and I yanked her up by the arm, carrying her over the debris.

  I heard a creak and looked back to see another shelf swaying and ready to fall. I pushed Sam forward just as the shelf collapsed, top rows pinning my legs to the floor. Air raced from my lungs as pain shot through my thighs, the wood scraping my skin as I tried to tear free.

  “Bryn.” Sam pulled on my arm, her eyes wide as the woman climbed her way toward us.

  I pushed but the shelf was too heavy, the splintered wood cutting through my skin. I turned, trying to pull myself free, Sam helping, but I wasn’t strong enough.

  Please.

  Wake up.

  I kept pushing but suddenly the woman was standing over me, her added weight grinding the debris into my legs. She flung a hand, sending Sam against the wall. I leaned back, trying to get a better look, but all I could see was Sam’s hair limp and tangled on the ground.

  The shelf shook and when I looked back at the woman she was convulsing, her back bent, her mouth open as something black slithered out. It crept towards me, a long curve of smoke carving across my skin until it burned.

  Wake up.

  I didn’t. I couldn’t.

  I kept pushing, wishing I was stronger, wishing I could just…lift…it. I strained, heat climbing me, and then the woman tumbled backwards. The weight on my legs gave way. The shelf was gripped in my hands and I was crawling to my feet.

  The woman rolled on the ground, writhing as the shadow tried to tear its way out. But it was stuck, blood trickling from the back of the woman’s head and pooling on the floor next to her.

  I held tight to the shelf, my fingernails carving into the wood, waiting for it to move, for it to come for me. But the woman was still, the cold was gone, and I finally let go of the shelf, the wood cracking as it fell to the floor.

  I ran to Sam, cradling her in my arms.

  She blinked. “Am I awake?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her face twisted. “It hurts.”

  “I know.”

  I carried her out of the shop, the street still dark.

  “Is it still out here?” Sam asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  We wandered down side streets as I tried to see over the tops of the buildings. I had no idea where we were but I knew the street I was looking for, the chipped sign and the storefronts turning over and over in my head. We turned a corner and suddenly it was right there, the hospital just across the bridge. I wasn’t sure when we might wake up, or even if we would, but I didn’t know where else to go.

  I was anxious of running into someone else but there was hardly anyone on the street. A few people walked by, not giving us as much as a glance, and I wondered if they could even see us or if we were somehow trapped in those moments just before waking, invisible to reality. But when we finally reached the hospital, my suspicions proved wrong. One of the overnight nurses I hadn’t met yet looked up from the file she was carrying and gave me a small smile, Sam and my bloody pajama pants hidden behind the front desk.

  After we rounded the corner, Sam and I raced to her room, trying to avoid running into anyone who knew she should have been in her room sleeping.

  When we reached the door, I stopped, almost losing my grip on Sam when I saw her body still lying in the observation chair.

  “That’s me.” Sam looked up. “I’m still sleeping?”

  I pushed the door open, the two of us creeping inside on silent feet.

  Sam stared down at herself and then she brushed the side of her face. Her body flinched, shifting in the chair. “What do I do now?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “But what if I don’t wake up?” Sam traced a finger down the slope of her hand.

  She looked sad. She looked afraid and I couldn’t help but think of when I was sitting next to Roman, waiting for him to wake up. Wishing he would. Willing it so. And then he had.

  “I once woke someone up from a long sleep,” I said. “He was in a coma.”

  “How?” Sam asked.

  I tried to smile. “With a kiss.”

  Sam stared down at herself again. “Should I try?”

  “Why not?” I said.

  Sam leaned down, her breath sending her hair fluttering. It seemed to thicken, swirling around her mouth like fog. But before she could press her ephemeral lips to her real ones, she
was gone, her body blinking and sitting up. “It worked,” she whispered. I smiled and she reached for my hand. “Now it’s your turn.”

  We found my room and I stood by the frosted window for a long time. I could see my silhouette behind the glass but for some reason I couldn’t step inside.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Sam said. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  I finally pushed the door open, my steps hesitant as my body came into view. I saw the lights first, blinking against the chair, reading my brain activity. I followed the cords from the scanner to the adhesives pressed to my forehead and down my spine where they disappeared under my shirt. I stared at my neck, at my pulse beating just under my chin, but I couldn’t make it to my eyes.

  “Are you going to do it?” Sam asked.

  I finally looked at my face. It was hard and dark, my brow wrinkled with harsh lines.

  “I look like I’m in pain,” I said.

  “Are you?” Sam asked.

  I looked down at my legs, the blood on my shredded pajama pants already dry.

  “Not anymore.”

  “It’s okay,” Sam urged me. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  I leaned over my body and it was so much more startling than staring into a mirror. I could smell my skin. I could touch it. I brushed my cheek, watching myself shift in the chair, and then I took a breath. I could taste the air pouring from my slightly parted lips, soft at first, but then it came in a rush, the air tugging back and forth between me and my body until I blinked and I was lying in the chair.

  “That was so cool,” Sam said.

  My head and muscles ached as if I was climbing out of a slab of concrete. I pulled up my pants, examining my legs. They weren’t bloody anymore but as the streetlight on the other side of the window washed across my shins, there was the faintest shimmer. Scars. They were thin and already fading, the shine the only sign that they’d been there at all.

  “How do you feel?” I asked. “Do you still hurt?”

  Sam shook her head.

  “What about cuts? Do you have any bruises?”

  She held out her arms. Nothing. She turned and peeking out from her shirt was something dark. Sam saw it too, rolling the hem of her shirt until the bruise was exposed.

  “Does it hurt?” I asked.