“That’s when we found him,” Andre said. “Every Dreamer who’s escaped has returned to the scene of the crime. Some found their bodies lying in hospital beds, others didn’t find them at all.”
“And the ones who haven’t escaped?”
“We thought we’d have caught the shadows red-handed by now,” Andre said. “But Anso’s prison doesn’t exist in the real world and we don’t know how to find the Dreamers who are still trapped.”
I wondered how many there were, how old, how young, how long some of them had been trapped in their own nightmares.
“Your Dreamers,” I said, “do you think…?”
“We hope,” Shay finished. “All we can do is hope that when we find Samson and Magda’s bodies, we’ll find theirs too.”
“The men in those masks…” Felix cut in, “do you remember who they were?”
Samson shook his head but I could tell part of him was lying, the part of him that just didn’t want to go back there.
“I think…” Felix hesitated, both hands gripping the computer screen. “I think you need to see this.” We all crouched behind him as he pulled up another news article. “Two weeks ago this wealthy Russian antiques dealer made the biggest discovery of ancient Mayan relics of the twenty-first century. It seemed like a total fluke. I mean, the guy just landed in Belize one day and started digging. He claims it was some kind of divine intervention, but here, check out this photo.”
There was a group of people standing in front of an excavation site.
“The guy in the center with the goofy smile on his face…” Felix pointed. “Look three people to his left.”
There was an older man staring straight at the camera, so pale I could just make out the tree line behind him as if it was growing from his torso.
“Who is this guy?” I asked.
“According to the Russian, his new assistant.” Before anyone else could ask another question, Felix jumped to the next article. “There’s this doctor in South Africa who’s claiming to be some kind of heavenly appointed healer. He made most of his money as a plastic surgeon but lost his license after someone died during a routine procedure. Since then, apparently he’s discovered this healing power and he’s been traveling from city to city, offering his services to people.”
“How?” Domingo asked.
“Just lays a hand on them. That’s it.”
Felix scrolled down, revealing another photo. The doctor sat in the middle of a hospital room, onlookers crowded around the bed while a reporter smiled and patted him on the back. The headline read, DOCTOR LOMBARD HAS THE HANDS OF GOD.
“Now, look in the far right corner. The girl by the window.”
There was that strange vacancy again, not just in her eyes but in the way she sat. She was so faint, like just her part of the picture had been smudged.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Apparently, some kind of travelling nurse,” Felix said, “even though she doesn’t look older than sixteen.”
“They’re all Dreamers,” Samson said.
Magda peered over his shoulder. Her breath hitched. “Kira.” She leaned closer, examining the photo from the first article. “Joseph.”
“You know them?” I asked.
She was stoic, unblinking as a tear slid down her cheek.
“Magda…” Samson tried to get her attention. “Magda, do you remember them?”
“We shared a cell. We were separated when Anso took me and…then he…he sent me away…”
“It’s okay,” Shay said. “You’re okay.”
Magda shot her a look. “But they’re not. They’re…” She pinched her eyes closed. “Are there more photos?”
Felix scrolled to the next page. “New York City. Back in the eighties a detective accidentally botched the evidence of a really high profile case in which the biggest drug lord in Brooklyn went free. Picked up a bad meth habit after the backlash and didn’t have a reason to quit until six weeks ago when he decided to privately re-open the case. He’d been off the police force for years and everyone thought he’d lost his mind when he said he was going to put Jesus Castro away for good. But then he very suspiciously got his hands on some new evidence and did just that.”
“And who’s his protégé?” I asked.
Felix opened the image file. “You can barely see him behind the detective’s fat ass but the guy over his right shoulder. The one who looks like he’s not supposed to be there.”
Felix was right. The way he looked right at the camera made it seem like an act of defiance.
“Victor,” Magda breathed. “I knew him too.”
“But these other guys?” I said. “The Russian and the doctor and the detective. What exactly do we know about them?”
“They’ve got a lot in common when you think about it,” Felix said. “They’re all rich and they were all on some kind of redemptive journey.”
“They were looking for something,” I corrected him. “Something they couldn’t find on their own.”
“Do you think he knows all of this?” Shay asked.
“Who?” I said.
Andre turned to me. “Look, Roman, you’re not the only reason we’re here. We heard from Lathan.”
“What? But I thought he was…” Dead.
The last I’d heard, their old leader had disappeared somewhere in Asia and they hadn’t heard from him in months. Once we realized that Michael was being controlled by the shadows it was obvious that Lathan had probably disappeared for good.
“One day some strange looking guy turned up at my flat,” Andre said. “I’d only been there for a week and it wasn’t even rented under my real name. He said Lathan had sent him, that he was in the States.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Not sure but he wants to meet. Here.”
“Do you think he knows something?”
“I don’t think he would have come out of hiding if he didn’t.”
“When?” I asked.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Not soon enough,” Domingo said. “Michael’s been tracking us since we left Germany. It’s the reason we had to split up while we searched for the rest of the Dreamers.”
“What does he want?” I asked.
“Revenge,” Domingo said. “Stassi.”
“Still?” Michael had been obsessed with using Stassi’s ability to travel back in time to bring back his Dreamer Darina. But with the shadow in control I thought he would have given up.
Domingo wrung his hands. “He won’t stop.”
“It’s not in his nature.” Andre cracked his knuckles. “But it’s not in our nature either.” He looked back at the rest of us. “Tomorrow we get Lathan back and then we get our Dreamers back too.”
47
Roman
When we got to Bryn’s room she was alone, flipping between news stations, the coma outbreaks featured on each one. She sat up, surprised, smiling. “You came all this way?”
“How are you feeling?” Stassi swapped Domingo’s hand for Bryn’s.
“Better,” Bryn said. I couldn’t tell if she was lying. I’d learned a long time ago that she was really good at it.
No one even had time to savor the hellos. We all stared at the television, the story about Sebastían still making the rounds.
Bryn pulled a small yellow notepad from beneath her pillow. She flipped through pages, names, dates and locations connected in some kind of diagram. “I’ve gone through all of the names and circled the ones who are Dreamers. I’ve highlighted the ones I’m not sure about. Some of the coma patients had actual meningitis symptoms and a few of them have already woken up.” She handed a slip of paper to Andre. “I’ve divided them up by continent. The names in red are the Dreamers who’ve been in comas the longest. They’re the most at risk—”
“Bryn…” I took the notebook from her. “Is this what you’ve been doing since I left?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She looked down, sensing my concern. “It’s a waste of
time. Even though some of the Dreamers are waking, they’re still in danger. We have to find them, all of them, before it’s too late.”
“We…” Andre paused. “Do you feel up to it?”
“I’m walking better. I’ll be fine. I’ll be ready.”
“Bryn, we need to think about this.” I sat down in front of her. “We don’t even know where to start.”
“Sebastían.”
The way she said his name I knew that she knew him. I knew that she cared. It made me wonder how long she’d really been away, if she’d lived an eternity in that hell and if she’d come to know him the same way Magda had come to know Joseph, Kira and Victor. The thought sat heavy inside me, one more brick added to the wall that already separated us.
“I saw another girl on the news this morning.” Bryn’s eyes burned red. “Kira Ito. I recognized her too.”
“Kira…” Magda stepped forward, too frazzled to introduce herself. I could tell by the look on Bryn’s face that she knew what she was. “Did she wake up?”
Bryn looked away. “She…she must not have…I’m sorry.” Guilt. That’s what was ravaging Bryn from the inside out.
The door pushed open. Bryn’s mother and Dr. Sabine stepped inside, stopping the moment they saw us.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Sabine said. “Are you all…” she swallowed, “friends of Bryn?”
“My relatives,” Vogle interrupted, joining the group just in time. “They’re doing some travelling and they stopped by to take a tour of the hospital.”
“Yes, we love…um…hospitals,” Shay said.
“Yes,” Andre added, “that’s right. Well, should we go downstairs and check out the…?”
“The morgue,” Stassi cut in, leading the way out. “That’s right, we’re late for our tour of the morgue.”
Bryn’s mother watched them until they’d disappeared around the corner. “Bryn, did you know them?”
“We met in Germany,” Bryn said.
“And they’re all related?”
“Foster children,” Vogle said, “all of them.”
Dr. Sabine cleared her throat. “Well, Bryn, your results came back…and…they were absolutely perfect.” She didn’t even try to hide her confusion. “I’d love to keep you here under the circumstances but your mother has made a pretty strong case for you to go home today. I’ve agreed, only under the condition that you continue to monitor any possible symptoms, and that you come in twice a week for more thorough examinations.” She paused, let her notes hang at her side. “This was a miracle, Bryn, a real one, and we have to do everything we can not to take it for granted.” She smiled. “So do you think you feel up—?”
“Yes.” Bryn was already swinging her legs to the floor. “I really get to go home?”
Dr. Sabine led her back to the bed. “Tonight. After we’ve run a few more tests.”
Bryn sighed, nodded.
Her mother turned to me. “And I think it might be best if you let Bryn get settled at home tonight. Alone.”
I didn’t even have time to argue before I was forced out of the room, the door falling shut in my face.
Felix patted me on the back. “Harsh.”
“I’ve only been gone for months.”
“I guess time doesn’t really heal all wounds.”
I tightened my fists, all of that stale anger rushing back. “I don’t care what she says. Not anymore.”
Felix eased back. “Chill dude. Just sneak in the old fashioned way. I’m sure Bryn wants to see you.”
“Yeah…” Even as I said it I wasn’t sure. Bryn was different, and it wasn’t just something I could see, but something I could feel. And what I felt wasn’t good.
That night the others migrated to Vogle’s hotel room while they waited for two AM to roll around. They were supposed to meet Lathan by some abandoned train station half an hour outside the city.
I stood outside Bryn’s bedroom window, waiting for the sound of her footsteps. I finally spotted her silhouette and when I knocked I watched her still. She crept towards the glass, pulling back the curtains before pushing it open.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said.
She stepped to her door and locked it, forcing a smile that made me feel raw. I remembered the dream of her leading me onto the beach. I could taste the salt air, the breeze hot and thick in my memory. And then she’d said, “Home.”
Home as in mine. Home as in ours.
I reached for her, hoping this was it and that I wouldn’t have to lose her again. She rested her face against my chest, our knees bent and barely swaying. She was careful. I was careful. With my hands and my closeness. I tried to be so careful but after a few more moments of silence I had to say it.
“I need to know what happened to you, Bryn.”
Her arms around me loosened. I didn’t want to hear it, to know what she’d felt and feel it too. But it was the only way to help her and it was the only way to truly bring her back to me.
Bryn moved to the bed. “Did you dream while I was gone?”
The question wasn’t accusatory, just curious, but it still put me on edge. What if she knew that I hadn’t done enough, that I hadn’t known how? Not until her great-grandmother dragged me out of that sleep-induced high and told me to destroy the shadow. I’d done what she’d said, but even though Bryn had woken up, I hadn’t ended anything. I knew I had to tell Bryn what I’d seen, her great-grandmother’s apology burning like a torch inside me, but I didn’t know how to start.
All I could say was, “yes.”
“About what?” she asked.
“You.”
Bryn shivered. “I dreamed too. Every nightmare I’ve ever had.”
I crippled, barely able to sit up straight.
“It was a test,” she said, her voice painfully cool. “I faced them all and then I woke up.”
“A test?”
“They didn’t have my body and it was the only thing that saved me. Because I knew that it was all a dream. And I knew that as long as it was a dream, I could change it.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “I don’t know what happened to the others. I don’t know if some of them woke up or if he found them again. I don’t know if they…survived.”
I knew what she was thinking and I wished she wouldn’t. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I wanted to hide, just the two of us in that house by the ocean. Because that was the only way I knew she’d be safe.
“We have to find the others, Roman. I know it’s only going to complicate everything, and I know my mom will hate me if I leave again, but I can’t just leave them helpless.”
I wanted to scream but I just nodded.
She brushed my hand, squeezed it. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For waiting for me.”
I sat next to her. “You did it for me.”
“Not for months. Not like this.”
“But you would have. I know it.”
She smiled, a real one this time. “And now I know you would too.”
I looked away, cheeks burning. “Don’t leave again, Bryn.”
She inched closer. “I don’t want to.” She laced her fingers in mine, our palms and noses touching. “Stay with me,” she said.
My stomach dropped. Because her eyes were sad and because she didn’t mean a word of it. She wanted to, I could see that much. But what she hadn’t been able to say, what she hadn’t been able to admit yet, was that I was one of her nightmares and she was still afraid of me.
She pulled the comforter over both of us. “Just lie here until you have to go.”
I let my legs slide down next to hers, my hands resting in the space between us. She curled up next to me, fighting a yawn.
“It’s okay to sleep,” I said.
“I don’t want to sleep.”
“I’m here,” I tried to reassure her. “You’re safe.”
I knew she didn’t believe me but she didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead she said, “Tell me a story.”<
br />
I smiled. “What kind of story?”
“A true one,” she said.
I stared at the wall. “The only true stories I know are sad ones.”
Bryn let out a deep breath. “Go on.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, hair igniting static against my shirt.
I knew exactly what I was going to say, dreading every word. Part of me wanted to savor this moment, to keep it safe somehow, but Bryn was already talking about leaving, and within hours the Rogues and I would be meeting Lathan, his very existence setting things in motion all over again.
So this wasn’t a time for savoring. It was a time for doing. For saying things that were true and scary and dangerous. So that’s exactly what I did. I told Bryn the story of the girl buried beneath the lake, and after I was finished, Bryn told me one too. About the man who’d buried her.
“He stood over her grave all that time. He looked sorry.”
I brushed her hair back. “Or maybe he was just making sure she didn’t wake up.”
“And now he’s the very thing he’d feared. She cursed him.”
“Or he cursed himself.”
“She cursed him,” Bryn said. “She cursed us too.”
We stared at each other for a long time, Bryn fighting to keep her eyes open while I fought with the idea of Anso grieving. Had he? Could he?
Bryn’s eyes drifted closed, sleep trying to steal her away. An eyelash slipped onto her cheek and I reached for it, my thumbnail grazing her skin.
She went rigid, instinct driving her as far away from me as possible. She had the same lost look on her face that she’d had the other night in her hospital room. Fear. Hate. Panic.
I stood. “Bryn.”
She snapped in the direction of my voice, looking straight through me. She rocked, hugging her knees, mumbling something I couldn’t make out.
“Bryn.”
“No.” It was a guttural sound, hardly a word at all. “Please.” Her breathing finally settled. “Go.”
“What?”
Bryn didn’t look up. “Please, go.”
After Vogle took my place outside Bryn’s bedroom window I met the others at the hotel and we rode in silence to the middle of nowhere. The headlights bounced off the trunks of trees and we edged off the road, clawing into the thick of hill country before pulling to a stop.
The Girl In Between series: Books 1-4 Page 86