Evanescent

by Addison Moore

  “We’re never screwed. I promise we’ll come out on top.” He twirls me into him, and his eyes offer a gentle smile all their own. “I promise, Laken, I will always keep you safe.”

  “I know you will.” It comes out weak, but everything in me believes his words are truer than my next breath.

  “Real quick before we go”—Coop nods back toward campus—“Flynn called, said Hattie helped him scope out another group of willing Spectators.”

  “Hattie?” I’m almost amused. “What do you think’s up with that? Clearly a Fem would have no interest in helping us.”

  “I have no idea.” He shakes his head. “But if I get my way, we’ll find out sooner than later.” He glances over at the stone. “You ready to do this?”

  “With you?” I’d run through a landmine with him if he wanted me to. “Always.”

  Cooper takes up my hand. We take a step back before rushing the wall of granite at a hundred miles an hour.

  My bones oscillate, my body quivers without ceasing long after we’re spit out onto the slick floors of the Transfer. The pale hall extends for what seems like an eternity as Coop leads us down corridor after corridor with such accuracy you’d think he engineered the building himself.

  “She said to meet her here.” Coop squeezes my hand as we enter a carpeted area. A blue glow emanates to our right, and Coop doesn’t hesitate leading us inside.

  “I recognize this place,” I whisper. “It’s the room with the floating coffins.”

  Everything in me seizes as I take in the long glass tubes that extend from floor to ceiling. Corpses float inside, submerged in blue fluid. Each of them holds a blank open gaze with their bodies sealed in wetsuits, giving them the appeal of an army of petrified soldiers. This was truly a killing field, a mass watery grave that begs for intervention.

  “I bet you half of these are stolen lives,” I say. “I wouldn’t put it past the Counts to arrange for death just so they could proliferate their numbers.”

  “Worst recycling program ever.” He tightens his grip around my waist.

  Ezrina scuttles into the room with her dark cloak, emphasizing the hump over her back, her wild hair wafts in the breeze like a slow building fire.

  “What happened?” Coop swallows hard as if bracing for the worst.

  “She lives.” Her haggard frame straightens ever so slightly. “Pearl.” It whispers from her like a demonic incantation.

  A girl about our age walks into the room with long, glossy hair—black as soot—full ruby lips, rosy glowing skin—everything about her is the perfect picture of health.

  “Pearl?” I step forward and inspect her. She has on a short black dress, her long legs touching down, lean and strong, with her feet pressed into a pair of heels.

  “Do you like it?” She gives a little twirl. “Ezrina said all the girls dressed like prostitutes now, and I really want to fit in.”

  “You look terrific.” Not to mention alive and unstoppably healthy.

  Cooper gives a dry laugh. “You made it, Pearl. Congratulations.”

  She made it. My heart tries to pump out of my chest—so wildly amazed and horrified all at the same time.

  Now what?

  Coop and I stow Pearl away in my bedroom and just stare at her as she rambles on in an animated state that neither of us had ever witnessed.

  “Do I have to go to school? I absolutely hate school. Is there any way I could just stay home? I miss TV. Do you have TV? I love TV dinners. Can you help me get some of those?”

  “Pearl.” I hold my hands out in an effort to slow her down. “Relax, would you? You’re starting to give me an ulcer.” My head throbs in rhythm to her elation. “On second thought, if anyone has a right to vomit everything out at once, it’s you. Please, take a seat.” I coax as Coop and I land on Hattie’s haunted mattress. “Now, tell us about yourself. Do you remember anything that happened?”

  “Let’s see.” Her pale eyes sweep the ceiling. “I was born fourth in line, two of my brothers died early in a horrible train accident. My sister and I attended Ephemeral—residing at Alcott Hall.” She makes a face. “I know Austen is the rival suite, but I really want to stay. I never liked having an east-facing dormitory. I’m not big into rivalries anyway.”

  Coop winces as he inspects our newfound friend but doesn’t say a word.

  “I think it’s great you’re not big on rivalries,” I say stupidly. I kindly omit the part about me not being so big on Ephemeral in general.

  A gentle knock erupts at the door, and Jen breezes in. “Cooper?” Her face contorts as if she found us buck naked, twisted together like a pretzel. “Do you mind?” She points out the door, not bothering to hide the fact she’s a little more than pissed. “Laken has a boyfriend, thank you very much,” she says, hoisting him into the hall rather unceremoniously.

  “Excuse me,” I say, plucking her hand off his jacket. I step out with him and shut the door behind us. “So what do you think? It looks like Ezrina perfected the resurrection recipe, and now you won’t have to exterminate the Spectators.”

  He pulls his lips to the side. “I wouldn’t go running to the Counts with the good news just yet.” He glances over my shoulder before stepping in close. “Don’t you think it’s odd that Pearl was a student at Ephemeral?”

  “Why would I think it’s odd? Should I be surprised?” Crap. I don’t know what to think anymore.

  “It’s strange, that’s for sure.” Coop latches onto me with those pencil grey eyes. “I’d better go before Jen has a coronary.” His cheek pinches to the side. “I’ve got some shopping to do for homecoming anyway. Apparently all hell will break loose if I don’t accessorize correctly.”

  “Homecoming,” I whisper, despondent at the thought of Coop escorting Grayson anywhere.

  He glances at the door. “Be careful,” he whispers. Coop reaches up and caresses my cheek, making the rest of my body jealous for his touch.

  “Say cheese!” Grayson steps in close and displays a picture of us on her phone with Coop brushing over me with his hand. “Now to hit send.” She clicks away, and already I know where it went.

  Shit.

  “Pity.” She gives a mock frown. “Wes has been asking for you all afternoon.”

  Coop lets out a sigh of frustration. “I really don’t appreciate this.” He shoots Grayson a look of discontent. “I was just helping out a friend. It really pisses me off that you’re so quick to cause trouble.”

  Grayson’s bright pink lips quiver into a perfect O. Her shoulders sag. Her eyes cut to dangerous slits as she glares into him.

  “Well, Cooper”—she takes in a controlled breath—“I was just helping out a friend, myself. You see, it turns out some guys from Rycroft jumped Wes this morning. They had to take him to the infirmary. He’s got a concussion, and they nearly yanked his balls out of his nose.”

  The floor shifts beneath me—the oxygen vacuums out of the room.

  “I need to get to Wes.” I take the stairs two by two and tumble down the last few.

  “Laken.” Coop helps me up. “I’ll drive.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Grayson follows us into the cool evening air.

  Who were these idiots from Rycroft? Obviously, that psycho I supposedly dated, Miles Richards, was involved. Suddenly, I’m feeling the need to invoke an ass kicking myself.

  We hop into Cooper’s truck. Grayson pushes herself in so close to him, it makes me wonder if she’s driving.

  I stare out the window at the silver-colored world as it stretches out like taffy.

  Wes is hurt. He was asking for me. I used to worship at his feet, and now I’ve reduced him as low as the enemy, but he’s not—nor will he ever be. I need to reprioritize and get him back in his right mind. We were each other’s everything, and we can’t lose sight of that now.

  “You okay?” Coop dips past Grayson’s breast extensions as he looks me over.

  I give a brief nod.

  Coop. He’s filled in Wesley’s void so prof
iciently, dare I say better. I think out of all the things this new world of Ephemeral and the Counts have given me to fear—the thing I fear most is Cooper Flanders himself.

  He’s changed everything.

  Nothing will ever be the same.

  The infirmary is a boxy building, across from the north campus, that I didn’t know existed until this unfortunate hour. It took more than ten minutes to get to by car, so I’m glad I accepted the ride.

  “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t go in,” I say to Coop before we enter the tiny building.

  “I want to.” He glances past me at Grayson who’s already at the information desk.

  Inside, the scent of ammonia scours my senses, makes my eyes water from the invisible fumes employed to battle bacteria.

  “Wesley Parker,” I pant into the girl seated at the front desk. “I mean, Paxton.”

  “Mr. Paxton is in the third room to the left.” Her forehead creases as she takes the three of us in. “Keep it down. He’s trying to get some rest.”

  I don’t listen to the rest of her spiel. I simply count out the doorways and barrel into the one where I find Kresley, seated at the edge of a tiny blue sofa.

  “Look who decided to show?” She rises, mostly to get out of my way as I head to the other side of the curtain.

  “Shit!” It expels from me in a breathless whisper.

  “Dude.” Coop makes his way over to Wes, shocked at the bloated rendition of my beautiful boyfriend.

  Wesley’s left eye is swollen shut. His lip is torn in an upright angle with stitches forming a jagged row of X’s, giving him that scary Halloween effect.

  “Heard you broke your rib.” It comes from me weak, broken as Wesley himself.

  “I’m okay.” He sits up and winces in the process.

  “You’re not okay,” I whisper, taking up his hand.

  “Did you see the guys who did it?” Coop looks genuinely pissed which shouldn’t surprise me since Coop is an all around nice guy.

  I rub my thumb over Wesley’s palm as if nudging him along.

  He shakes my hand loose and gives a dry laugh.

  Crap. I’m such an ass for drooling over Coop’s “all around nice guy” status while Wes lies on his deathbed.

  I take up his fingers again and pretend not to notice the overt eviction he just gave me.

  I love Wes so much. It kills me to see him like this. I over annunciate the thought as I give his hand a gentle squeeze.

  Wes looks up and smiles before redirecting his gaze toward Cooper.

  Damn, Coop. He glares at him a moment. “I did see the guys who did it.”

  Kresley steps in, wide-eyed with anticipation. “It was that fuck-up she was seeing at Rycroft, wasn’t it?”

  “Nope.” He shakes his head. The anemic smile on his face expands ever so slightly.

  “Who was it?” Coop is insistent on joining in on the battle. “Someone from Ephemeral?”

  “No.” Wes looks down, defeated. “It was nothing. I probably had it coming.” He digs his palm into his eye, looking far more tired than injured. “Look, it’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal?” Kresley gags on her words. “What if they come back? That’s it—I’m calling the cops.” She whips out her phone and starts in on a dialing spree.

  “I said, no.” Wes roars, inspiring her to drop the phone into her purse.

  “Knew it,” she seethes. “You’re protecting this little slut, and now she’s almost got you killed. One day you’re going to wake up and realize you let the best thing that ever happened to you walk out that door. And you know what?” Her chest expands like a wall. Her clear green eyes are dull as sea glass. “I’ll still be there for you, Wesley. Laken is nothing but a blister on our relationship.” She storms out of the room, creating a whirlwind with her exit.

  A blister? That’s what she’s relegated me to?

  I can’t stand Kresley and her drama-mama ways. I don’t think I’ve hated a single soul in my life, but I have a serious disdain for Kresley Fisher.

  I slip my fingers away from Wes a moment.

  If anyone is a blister, it’s the Counts.

  Wes gropes for my hand again, so I give it.

  “Who was it, man?” Coop tries coaxing the answer out of him. “I’ll help you pay them a visit.”

  I wonder how much of this is real and how much of this is strategy.

  That’s what I’m wondering, Wes says to himself as he takes in Coop.

  I swallow hard, looking down at our conjoined fingers.

  “It’s no one you know.” Wes relaxes his head over his pillow and sinks into the downed cushion. It’s not like I’m going to tell them I’ve just had my ass kicked by two pussies from the future.

  Why in God’s name would anyone want to do this to Wes? I squeeze his hand as if demanding an answer.

  Shit. It’s killing Laken. He glances up at Cooper. It’s easy for someone like Coop. I bet he makes her feel all safe and cozy, no fucked up secrets, not one kernel of dishonesty floating around between them. He closes his eyes briefly. I can’t do this anymore. It’s either tell her everything or cut her loose. Maybe I do belong with Kres. Maybe Laken would be better off with someone like Coop.

  My insides line with lead. I could feel the weight of all of Ephemeral crushing over my chest as tears flood my vision.

  I lie down gently next to Wes and let loose the wild torrent that’s been waiting to unleash since the day I first arrived on campus.

  “I’ll wait outside.” Coop leaves the room, and I can feel the void in his wake.

  Wes runs his fingers through the back of my hair in smooth, slow circles. It’s as if the room, the school—the state dissolves to nothing, and we’re right back in Kansas.

  Right back in Kansas, Wes muses. God I wish it were all true—the two of us having simpler lives to escape to. I’d give anything for it to not be so damn complicated.

  Homecoming.

  Friday afternoon, the sky unleashes an outburst of aggression, driving down its fury in vats right over Ephemeral’s football field. We’re playing our crosstown rivals, Rycroft. In a way, I’m glad it wasn’t anyone from Rycroft who beat Wesley to a pulp. I’d hate to be responsible for anyone hurting him—nearly killing him. Although, I’m not entirely sure I’m absolved of causing the disaster either. I have no idea what he meant by people from the future. It all sounded a little too sci-fi to me. Coop seems to think it has to do with his blood sucking side-hobby. And, injuries be damned, Wes swore he’d still be my date for homecoming. Although, wisely he decided to ditch the action on the grid—rain started during halftime and never let up.

  The game goes on through the downpour. The field turns into soupy terrain while the rest of the cheerleaders and I hop around with clear plastic ponchos. It’s the last few moments of the final quarter. Jen says they would have canceled if the game started out this way, but there’s no point in turning back now.

  “Miles is looking at you.” Carter hooks her elbow into mine and spins me in a circle. She jumps in a huge puddle, sending a wall of water up my skirt, and my numb legs flinch at the glacial surprise.

  “Who cares. I bet he looks at all the girls. He’s a biological malfunction with a permanent hard-on in his jeans.” I say, scouring the crowd for Pearl. I told her she could watch the game, but she needed to stay put. Jen was less than impressed that “a defector from Alcott” was seeking shelter in my room. I think she’d be even less impressed if she knew how long ago she defected, or more to the point, was plucked off campus by the body snatchers. But I don’t see any sign of Pearl. It’s nothing but a sea of black umbrellas.

  The rain lets up just enough as the final whistle sounds. Fourteen to eight, Ephemeral takes the victory.

  The football team streamlines in our direction. It’s wall-to-wall shoulder pads as people make their way to the gym.

  Warm fingers touch down over mine, low by my thigh, and I clasp around them.

  Good game. Looks like you’re the hero to
night. I give an impish grin as I look away.

  I wasn’t really paying attention to the game. Cooper cinches our fingers. They should outlaw your moves, Laken. I nearly got taken out twice because of those hips. He gives a firm squeeze as the crowd starts to dwindle. I talked to my dad about some of these bizarre coincidences. He seems to think we should look closer at Hattie. Can you get some hair and tissue samples? He’ll run a panel, and hopefully we’ll get to the bottom of what she’s made of.

  I’ll do my best. I start to walk away. I’ll see you tonight.

  Hey, Laken? I just want you to know that if I could have asked you to the dance, I would’ve.

  I look over at him, and our eyes lock. A sea of people pass between us as my fingers return to my side.

  I mouth a simple thank you before heading to the gym.

  It’s time to get ready for homecoming—for Wes.

  “Laken.” My name echoes from the field. I glance through the hazy drizzle, but nothing catches my eye.

  “Laken.” A sharp voice hisses from behind, and I pivot on my heels.

  The crowd moves every which way like an army of disorganized ants.

  Strange. I don’t see anybody.

  I glance back toward the field, and a scream gets bottled in my throat.

  The Tobias sisters flash like holograms before me, their sickly thin frames, their severely balding scalps scratch against the dismal backdrop, vying for my attention. The one on the right grasps onto her sister’s hair, engaging in violent tugs, twisting and jerking. She labors until her sister’s head spins unnaturally before popping right off as if she extracted a plant from the ground, nothing but bloody roots dangling below.

  I clap my hand over my chest and take a step back.

  “Shit.”

  “Laken!” Hattie blinks forward until she’s in front of me with her emaciated features, her stained teeth. “Pearl Montagne lives.” She hisses it in my face as if it were the vilest truth. “Find my family. You have seven days”—she shoves the decapitated cranium in my direction—“or you’re next.”