The Calling

by Kelley Armstrong

  I fired. The bullet hit him below the shoulder. He fell, his mouth working, eyes wide with shock.

  "It might not be fatal," I said. "Depends on how long it takes you to find your cell phone."

  I emptied the rifle's magazine. Then I laid down the gun.

  "I'd suggest you tell the police it was a hunting accident. Otherwise I'll have to tell them the truth."

  I helped Sam to the truck. As she got in, she winced, then glowered at the man lying on the ground.

  "If I could kick him without falling on my ass, I would," she said.

  "Hopefully, he's hurting worse than you are. See if you can find a license or registration in the glove box. The cops are going to get an anonymous tip about this guy."

  Sam grinned as I started the truck. "You can be seriously awesome sometimes, Maya." She paused. "And I mean that in a totally non-girl-crush kind of way."

  "You don't have to clarify that."

  "Yeah, usually I do." She exhaled in pain and leaned back. "Let's get the guys, get me fixed up, and get out of here."

  I might not have my learner's permit yet, but I could drive. Dad had taught me a couple of years ago so I could take the Jeep back to Mom after dropping him off across the park.

  We didn't get far before we saw three figures running toward us.

  Daniel and Kenjii were in the lead. I don't know who looked more worried--or more relieved when I pulled over.

  "Thank God," Daniel panted. "We couldn't get the damned latch open."

  Corey jogged up. "Guy sent Daniel flying when he pulled away. We tried waving and yelling, just to get him to stop, but he didn't hear us. Luckily, we saw where he turned. Took us awhile to get here, though."

  "I screwed up," I said. "I'm sorry."

  "You got the truck," Corey said. "Seems like it worked to me."

  "Yes, please make her stop," Sam called from the truck. "She's been apologizing since we got away and it's really getting on my nerves."

  "Sam was shot," I said, lowering my voice. "I really screwed--"

  "Make her stop!" Sam yelled. "I got shot a little. He got shot worse. We now have a truck. Mission accomplished. It was your plan, Maya, but we all agreed to it. Stopping to whine is only going to get us nabbed by the cops when that bastard calls 911."

  "I wasn't whining," I said.

  "Close enough."

  Daniel took the driver's seat. Corey and I got in the back with Kenjii. I directed Daniel to take the next side road, where it would be safer for us to stop so I could get out and take a better look at Sam's injuries.

  The bullet had gone clean through her calf muscle, missing the bone. The bleeding had stopped and I could remove the tourniquet. I cleaned the wound as best I could, then bound it with bandages from the glove box first aid kit. I wanted to find a town and a drugstore, clean and dress it properly, but Sam refused. We were only a couple of hours from Salmon Creek. Plenty of supplies there.

  So we went home. God, it felt good to say that. After three days of hell, home was so close it was almost surreal.

  Except we couldn't actually just drive into town, because there was a very good chance the Nasts had Salmon Creek staked out. Or the St. Clouds could also be there. That meant we had to get to someone's house without cruising down Main Street. So we took the long way in, circling around the north and coming in from the west.

  I wanted to go home. To my park. To my parents. Maybe I was being selfish, but I thought they'd be our safest point of contact. The others agreed, but there was no way to drive into the park without going down Main Street. Any other route was a few kilometers' hike and Sam couldn't do that. I wasn't sure any of us could.

  The next best bet was Corey's mom. She was the sheriff, and had raised Corey and his brother, Travis, alone after his dad died. His father had worked in the lab, though. Had he been the one who'd signed on to the experiment? Had Corey's mother been left in the dark, like Daniel's dad? We didn't know, but I trusted her enough to go there. The others did, too, which, considering my recent track record with character judgment, was more reassuring.

  Corey lived in what we jokingly called "the burbs," which meant that his house was on the outskirts of town. The forest edged the property, so we could park elsewhere, then sneak up.

  "Guess Mom's taking the day off," Corey said as we drew close enough to see the sheriff's SUV in the drive.

  "Considering she thinks you're dead, I'd imagine she's taking a lot of days off," I said.

  He paused at that, as if it was the first time he'd really thought it through. Everyone believed we were dead. His mother and his brother, Travis, would be in there, grieving...

  "Let's get inside," he said.

  We went through the backyard. The house looked fine, as did the ones around it. The fire had obviously been stopped or diverted before it reached town.

  Travis was allergic to dogs, so I put Kenjii in the garage with a bucket of water filled at the tap. In the meantime, Corey tried the back door, but it was locked. He didn't want to knock, so he retrieved the house key and opened the door.

  When I followed him in, the smells of the house wrapped around me. My arms started to tremble and at first I thought it was the change starting again, but then I realized it was relief.

  We were safe. Finally safe.

  I followed Corey into the living room. When I looked at the sofa, I wanted to throw myself on it. Sprawl across the cushions and turn on the TV. Curl up and watch the flickering images until I fell into a deep sleep.

  I've never actually done such a thing in my life. Sure, I watch TV. But we don't have one at my house and I'd never felt the lack, because I don't like being cooped up inside.

  Now, after three days in the forest, that human part of me was sick of trees and streams and forest paths. It wanted a sofa and a TV and a shower. God, it really wanted a shower.

  "Mom?" Corey called. He cut himself short and swore. "I probably shouldn't do that. Scare the crap out of her." He took a step toward the kitchen, then paused. "Or maybe I should yell. Warn her before her dead son appears from nowhere." He glanced at us. "Arghh! I'm overanalyzing. When this is over, I need a long break from you guys."

  "And we'll need one from you," Sam said.

  "Just relax," I said. "Call her. Find her. It doesn't matter. You're about to give her the best heart attack of her life."

  He grinned. "Right."

  He took off, jogging through the house, calling for his mom. Sam started to follow, then saw we weren't and realized this was a moment we should leave to Corey.

  I collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh. Daniel plunked down beside me, then twisted to stretch out, legs going over mine.

  "Oh my God," I said, shoving his feet off my lap. "Do you know how bad those smell?"

  He tried to stick them in my face. I grabbed him around the ankles and tickled the bottom of his feet. He let out a shriek.

  "Well, you're still ticklish," I said. "And you still giggle like a girl."

  He tried to grab me, but I held his feet tight. Sam slid from the recliner and limped into the next room.

  "Our immaturity is scaring her off," I said. "Sorry, Sam. Come back and we'll act our age."

  "No, I'm just grabbing some food. You two carry on. You've earned a maturity time-out."

  I let go of Daniel's feet and he pulled them off my lap.

  "We're home," I said. "Well, not our home but..." I leaned back into the cushions and let out a happy sigh. "Close enough for now."

  "Feels good, doesn't it?"

  "Unbelievably good."

  I opened my eyes and glanced at him.

  "Thank you. For keeping me on my feet and getting us back here."

  "Um, pretty sure you did at least half of the 'getting us back here' part. And I needed some help staying afloat, too." He paused. "Well, not as much as you, but that's because I'm a guy and we're naturally tougher."

  I threw a pillow at him.

  "She's not here," Corey called as he thundered down from the second
floor.

  TWENTY-SIX

  "MOM ISN'T HERE," COREY said. "Neither is Travis. So much for my grand resurrection." He slumped onto the sofa. "We'll have to wait for them. Which is a little anticlimactic."

  We decided to clean up and eat. Start looking and feeling human again.

  "There's not much in the way of food," Sam said. She'd come out of the kitchen with a Coke and a spoon heaped with peanut butter.

  "What?" Corey said. "Mom knows better than to let our cupboards get empty or I'll dig up her stash of fancy chocolate bars."

  "The fridge is practically bare," Sam said. "Grocery shopping is apparently the last thing on your mom's mind.

  I'm sure there's more in the cupboards. I just stopped at the peanut butter."

  We went into the kitchen. Corey headed straight to a cupboard and pulled out cereal and cookies.

  "Pop's in the fridge," Sam said.

  Daniel got that. As he stood there, door open, he glanced at me. I was looking past him at a loaf of bread, uncovered and rock hard, on the counter. Beside it was a pitcher. The smell of sour milk hit me as I moved closer.

  Corey's mom wasn't here. She hadn't been here since the fire.

  Daniel shook his head at me. Don't say anything yet.

  I accepted a Coke from him and cookies from Corey. Then I took a bowl of cereal out to Kenjii. Not ideal, but no worse than the granola bars I'd been feeding her.

  As we headed back into the living room, I noticed the phone on the counter.

  Daniel followed my gaze and laughed. "Um, yeah. We're holed up, waiting to notify someone that we're back ... and there's a phone. We've been in the woods way too long."

  He picked it up. Sam leaped forward and grabbed it from him.

  "It could be bugged," she mouthed.

  Corey opened his mouth to argue, but she motioned for him to wait until she hung up. As she lowered the phone, she stopped. She looked at it. Lifted it to her ear. Frowned.

  "It's dead," she said.

  Corey took the phone from her. He jabbed a few buttons. Then he strode into the study and picked up another phone.

  "Dead?" I said.

  He nodded.

  "Must be from the fire," Sam said. "I'm surprised they even have electricity."

  Corey said nothing. He was staring at the empty desk. All the wires for a laptop dangled over the edge. He turned and tapped an empty shelf behind him.

  "My laptop should be here." He gestured at the empty desk. "It was when I left." He turned to Daniel. "Okay, obviously between the fire and the crash, Mom hasn't come home. But she didn't take my laptop. She told me to pack it. I didn't."

  "Why?" Sam said.

  "Because my homework's on it," he said, in a tone that implied this was a stupid question. "Laptop perishes in the fire? I get a free pass on every assignment."

  "Which I'm sure she knew you'd try, so she took it. I'm supposed to be the paranoid one, guys, and I--"

  Corey was already gone, heading for the stairs again. He took them two at a time. Then he pitched forward, hands clutching his head as he let out something between a moan and a strangled cry.

  Daniel raced upstairs to help him to his feet ... and Corey promptly puked on him.

  "You were done with that shirt, right?" Corey mumbled as we half carried him into his room. He started to say something else, and heaved again, this time twisting enough to vomit on the floor instead.

  Sidestepping the puddle, we got Corey onto his bed. He went into fetal position, hands over his head, moaning.

  "Where are your pills?" Daniel said.

  "Bathroom."

  "We'll find them," I said, and started to go.

  Corey grabbed my sleeve. "Stay."

  "Good idea," Sam said. "My bedside manner sucks. I'll help Daniel."

  They left. I knelt beside Corey's bed, holding his hands as he groaned and writhed, his face shiny with sweat.

  "Bad?" I whispered.

  "Oh yeah." He opened one eye. "Don't tell Daniel. You know how he gets. But they're a lot worse." He licked his lips and looked over my shoulder, making sure Daniel wasn't there. "It's like a flash of light splitting my skull. Then more flashes. This time--"

  His face screwed up in pain and he curled up, panting. "Seeing stuff. Crazy stuff."

  "Like what?"

  "Can't tell. Just--" Another jolt of pain. "Stuff. Images. Don't make sense."

  He took a few deep breaths, then let go of my hand and pushed up on his elbows. Another look toward the door.

  "He can't hear you. What do you see?"

  "You know how when you dream, stuff from your day comes back, only it's all mixed up? That's what it's like. I see things and sometimes I recognize them, but they're..." He searched for the words. "In the wrong place. Out of context. That's it. Out of context."

  "Like what?"

  He hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing imp--"

  "Like what, Corey?"

  "Rafe." He said the name quickly, as if getting it out before he could decide not to. "I saw Rafe and I saw you. Only it's ... not any place I've seen you two together."

  "Someplace you don't recognize."

  "No, it's your place." He waved at the window. "You, me, Rafe, Daniel, and your dog out behind your house. It's like seeing a memory that never happened. Which is why I think it's my brain spitting out garbage. But if I tell Daniel..."

  "He'll worry it's a neurological problem."

  "Neuro...? Right. Brain. You could just say brain, you know."

  "Neurological covers more than just the brain. It--"

  He held up his hand. "If there's one bonus to this disaster, it's not having to go to school for a while. Don't spoil that for me. Please."

  I smiled. He opened his mouth, then winced again. When he opened his eyes, he looked over my shoulder and let out a sigh of relief.

  "Finally. Drugs." He put out his hand. "Give 'em."

  "They aren't there," Daniel said. "We searched the medicine cabinet, the drawers, everywhere. There's ... a lot of stuff missing. I think your mom is planning to be gone a while."

  "Probably didn't want to leave pills lying around," Sam said. "No need to give anyone a reason to break in."

  "Let's hope they didn't take the alcohol, too," I said as I stood.

  Corey shook his head. "I think I'm okay--" Another wave of agony doubled him over, retching.

  "I'll grab a beer from--" Daniel began.

  "No, I'm okay. Really. Just get dressed before you scare the girls." He waved at Daniel, bare-chested after taking off his soiled shirt. "Help yourself to my closet."

  "You wear a medium. I don't."

  "That's just because I like my shirts fitting better."

  "Tighter," I said.

  "And, again, I don't," Daniel said. "I'll wash this one."

  Corey made a face at him and waved him off. Once Daniel was gone, he collapsed, panting, as if he'd been holding back.

  "If a drink will fix this--" I began.

  "No."

  "You're refusing a drink?" Sam said. "From what I hear, that's a first."

  He flipped her off. Not good-humoredly either. She grumbled and hobbled from the room.

  "There are more pills downstairs," Corey said. "I ... have a stash."

  When I lifted my brows, he said, "Yeah, the headaches have been getting worse for a while. I didn't want my mom to know. That's how I found out booze helps. Only I'd rather not, so I've been hiding pills, saying they're gone so I can get more."

  "That was--"

  "Dumb, I know. I should have told someone, which is why I'm telling you now."

  "If they aren't there, can I grab you a beer?"

  "I..." He glanced at the door, again looking for Daniel. "Last resort, okay? Yeah, I know, I drink at parties. But that's different. Drinking to feel better is..." He looked up at me. "We've both seen what that does with Daniel's dad. Maybe it's a different kind of 'drinking to feel better,' but I don't want to go there unless I have to."

  "Okay, let m
e look for the pills."

  I found the medication. When I came back upstairs Daniel was waiting. I motioned that I'd give the pills and water to Corey and come back. When I returned, he waved me into Corey's mom's bedroom.

  "We need to talk about Corey," I said as I walked in and closed the door. "I'm really worried about these headaches."

  "I know. So am I. But there's something I need to tell you first. I was looking in here in case she had backup pills. The drawers are empty. Same as the closet. Same as the bathroom. They didn't just leave for a few days--"

  "Hey!" Corey yelled.

  We hurried in to find him standing at his dresser. "Where's my stuff?"

  "Your clothes?" I said.

  "No, they're here. I was trying to find a clean shirt for Daniel and noticed my stuff is gone." He waved at the empty dresser top. "Trophies. Photos. My St. Christopher's medal."

  "Mementos," I murmured.

  Corey was right--all his mementos were gone. So his mom must have decided she couldn't stay in Salmon Creek. When Serena died, her parents had left town--too many memories. A check of Travis's room confirmed it. They'd taken their clothes, everything of value, and everything easily transported, leaving behind perishables and furniture.

  "What about my clothes?" Corey said.

  "Those are hand-me-downs Travis wouldn't want, all things considered," I said. "Your mom just took things that were important to you. Things to remember you by."

  "But it's only been three days," Corey said. "Mom isn't like that. Hell, she spent four months talking about buying a new sofa and another two shopping for it before deciding to stick with the one we had."

  "Okay," I said. "Well, maybe..." I paused, hoping someone else would fill in the blank, but they just looked at me, expectant. "We should look outside. Hayley's place is right across the road and Brendan's house is around the corner. I think we can trust Hayley's parents and Dr. Hajek."

  Brendan's mother was the local veterinarian, who'd helped me with countless injured animals. I trusted her.

  But who didn't I trust?

  Earlier, I'd been prepared to trust no one. But now that I was back in Salmon Creek, that changed. I thought of all the people I'd grown up with--the kids, their parents, the teachers and doctors and shopkeepers. My gut trusted them all, which was crazy, because they all drew a paycheck from the St. Clouds. Even my parents.

  Not everyone could be innocent. Most probably weren't.

  So who could we trust?

  I stood there, frozen in doubt as Corey and Daniel watched me.