Harbinger

by Sara Etienne

  There had to be more here. There had to be answers. I flipped through the diary looking, and the entries started to change. They were written in the same loopy handwriting, but now the letters careened across the page at an angle. Rushing to fill the space.

  Then twenty pages later, I found another tarot card. “Death.”

  My breath stuck in my windpipe, and I reread the bold printed word at the bottom of the card. A grim reaper walked through a graveyard, wielding a scythe.

  “Not so boring now.” Kel raised an eyebrow at me and read the diary entry out loud.

  November 29, 1911

  This morning in church, Preacher Matthew spoke of the end of the world. Fire and Brimstone. Locusts and Plague . . . But that is not how it ends.

  The world will end. In swollen waves. In crimson-stained hands. In the dark of the pregnant moon.

  I see it over and over, in my dreams at night . . . The visions will not abate, the drums throbbing through my body. I tell myself they are merely nightmares, preying on my weak mind. But even in the daylight . . . I know the truth.

  This is The Path.

  The same arrow marked the bottom of the page. But that wasn’t what made the entry unsettling. And it wasn’t just creepy descriptions either. It was that every word, every line, had been written in blood.

  19

  “OKAY.” Kel’s eyes were wide as he looked down at the diary. “Is this what I think it is?”

  M. H.’s words echoed in my ears. The world will end. “If you’re thinking it’s a century-old prophecy scrawled in blood, then yes.”

  “Pretty much, yeah.” Kel swallowed and looked me full on in the face. “Did she say crimson-stained hands? Do you think she was talking about us?”

  “How could she be?” They were just delusional ramblings, right? But then what about the arrows? My drawings? The metal doll? My brain buzzed with impossible questions and I wanted to bolt.

  “What is it, Faye? What aren’t you telling me?” Kel’s eyes still pinned me down.

  I clutched the metal figurine, the chill from it biting my fingers. I was trying hard to keep it together. Forcing myself to stay very still, I searched for something to say. “Well . . . that arrow thing’s everywhere, right? What do you think it means?”

  “Don’t avoid the question.” Kel’s eyes flashed a warning at me. “Why were you so fascinated when you saw that mark on the porch yesterday? Why does this book talk about stained hands? Faye, do you know what’s going on with us?”

  Fear, feral and snarling, rose up inside of me. He’ll never believe you! The second you tell him what’s been happening, he’ll abandon you like everybody else!

  “I don’t know!” I screamed at him, angry that he was here, that he’d made me so vulnerable. “I read the same thing you did! Whoever this M. H. is, she thinks we’re headed for an apocalypse.”

  Snatching the diary, I jumped up, reading from it as I paced the room. “‘The world will end. In swollen waves. In crimson-stained hands. In the dark of the pregnant moon.’ What does that even mean?”

  I dropped the book with a thud on the floor, wanting to get away from those words written in blood. Away from all the hateful arrows. Then I slid down the wall and rested my head against the door frame, covering my face.

  Maybe it’s better when no one looks at me. Maybe I could go back to being invisible. It would be easier for everyone. “I don’t want to drag you into this. You should leave. They probably haven’t even noticed you’re gone.”

  “Drag me into it? Faye, I’m already here!” Kel crawled over to me, his glove touching my arm gently. But I refused to look at him. “I get it. Crazy stuff’s happening and you think it’s got something to do with you. But it’s got something to do with me too. With all of us. And we can handle it. You can handle it, because you’re . . . I knew it when I first looked at you. No, when I first heard you on the other side of that wall . . . You’re different. More than everyone else somehow. Just let me in and I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes. Please, Faye.”

  I lowered my hands. More than everyone else. I met Kel’s eyes and tried to recognize myself there. The me that was strong and smart and likable. The me that he saw.

  It felt dangerous. No one had ever looked at me so . . . so absolutely. I longed to be that person Kel envisioned.

  But what if I lost whatever dazzling connection I had with Kel? What if I told him about everything that’s happened since I came to Holbrook. Since before Holbrook. And what if he turns away from me?

  Then I had an even more dangerous thought. What if he doesn’t?

  Alarm bells wailed in my head. Keep your secrets, Faye. But I wasn’t sure I could trust my instincts anymore.

  His forehead creased and I longed to smooth it away. I longed to let him all the way in.

  “Please, Faye, this is too big to figure out on your own. Let me help.”

  So I told him. About going up to the dorm roof and hearing the music. About the drawings on the floor. About the vision of Dr. Mordoch and the picture I’d made when I was little and remembering that night with my parents. About everything.

  And as we talked, sitting next to each other on the floor of the library, the closeness of the night before came back to us. Breath for breath. Beat for beat. The noises from the outside, the heat of the room, disappeared. There wasn’t space for anything else.

  The words poured out of me and I felt strong again. Free from the weight of it all.

  “And these visions, you said you’ve had them since you were a kid? With the water and stuff?” Kel’s face was open, engaged.

  “Well, they used to just be nightmares. But over the last year they’ve become”—I hesitated—“more real.”

  It was strange to finally tell someone. I’d expected Kel to pull away, to blame me for whatever’s been going on with us at night. But he’d come alive, almost excited.

  Sometimes he stopped me to ask questions, then nodded thoughtfully at the answers. Like he was scrambling to put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. “What about seeing the bonfire from the dorm roof? Was that the same kinda thing?”

  I don’t know. I tried to answer him anyway. He’d earned that much. “Well, part of it was real, I mean, I saw the Screamers and they’re real, right? But I checked the next day and there wasn’t any sign of a fire.”

  Or the seventh person.

  “What about the song? What did it sound like?” Kel’s face was intent, his gloved hand squeezing my arm.

  “It was kinda like a chant. With drums and a flute thing. Why?”

  He dropped his hand and looked down at the floor. “That day in Solitary, when they first put me in . . . I think you were singing it.”

  I remembered the waves crushing down on me and the drums thrumming through my feet.

  Then Kel’s dark eyes were back on mine. “Up on the roof was that the first time you heard that song?”

  “I thought so, but even then it sounded familiar. Then I got sucked into that nightmare with Dr. Mordoch—” This all sounded so insane. I had to push myself to finish my thought. “And I heard it again. I must’ve learned it when I was a kid, ’cause I was singing it in the vision.”

  Kel nodded and I could tell he believed me. My heart squeezed. It hurt almost too much to hope that Kel wasn’t afraid of me or didn’t think I was crazy. The idea seemed fragile and stunning.

  “There’s a reason for all of this.” Kel shifted closer to me and I breathed him in. “We have the diary now. Maybe it’ll give us answers. I promise you, we’ll figure this all out.”

  Kel pulled off his gloves and reached up, touching my cheek. His face was so close to mine that I could see the sandpaper of stubble on his chin. My skin blazed where he touched me, and I leaned into him.

  We can handle this. We’ll figure this all out.

  Then he pressed his lips against mine. He tasted like ginger and honey and . . . and something so familiar. Like something I knew inside and out, but couldn’t name.
<
br />   “Faye.” He said my name like . . . like he was saying something sacred.

  His hand cradled the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. It was electrifying and delicious and dangerous. And we came together again. My hand melted into his. I was flying, and I let myself fall into the green sea of his eyes.

  I closed my eyes and kissed him back. But I was falling too fast. I couldn’t stop. Images swarmed past me. Dizziness tried to pull me under and suddenly the world went dark. I tried to pull away from Kel’s grip, but he wasn’t there anymore. It was like what’d happened with Dr. Mordoch. Blurry shadows morphed until they finally solidified into a scene in front of me.

  I was running. Dodging past branches and tree trunks. Up ahead, a girl fled through the dark forest.

  I can’t lose her.

  The thought wasn’t mine. I knew it was Kel’s, the same way I’d known his smell and his taste. His thrill of adrenaline surged into me.

  My big Converses closed the distance between me and the girl. And now I could make out her long hair streaming behind her.

  I was eager, chasing her in the dark, matching her pace up the steep hill. The trees thinned and I put on speed.

  Almost. I almost have her. I reached out for her—

  Then pain shot through my knees. My lungs seized up. My shoulders burned. And I was down.

  But it didn’t matter. She’d stopped. The girl had reached the Screamers, and breathing hard, she knelt at the center of the tortured statues. Her knees planted in the grass.

  The girl’s hair fell in front of her face as she threw herself forward, clawing wildly at the ground. Digging in the dark earth. Then, as if in pain, she threw back her head toward the night sky, letting out a wailing chant.

  The familiar drumbeat filled my mind and my heart beat in time. Eager. Impatient. Moonlight flooded the girl’s face, her skin blazing white, and I flinched.

  It was my face. It was me.

  Stunned, I forced myself backward through the crackling, dizzying link and managed to rip away from Kel’s kiss.

  Falling back on my hands and knees, I stared at Kel. Questions battered at my mind, trying to get out. But they were overwhelmed by my intense, heart-rending fear.

  “How did you . . .” Kel’s voice trailed off.

  So he saw it too.

  I scrambled backward toward the doorway, away from Kel. I could still feel his eagerness. His feet pounding through the woods.

  “What do you want? What did you do to me?” I didn’t even know the right question to ask. Then, in a tiny voice I didn’t even recognize, “I trusted you.”

  “I was trying to keep you safe.” Kel’s stunned eyes pleaded with me. “Please, Faye, I didn’t do anything. You have to believe me!”

  “Why?” I looked up, terror and confusion and betrayal all battling it out inside me. Tears rushed into my eyes followed by a wild, animal rage. “Why on earth would I believe you?”

  I stumbled down the spiral stairs. Fumbling through the dark hallway.

  “Wait! Faye!” Kel’s voice echoed in the empty passageway. My hands smacked against the stone walls, barely keeping myself from careening into them. I slammed into the secret door, trying to get it open.

  Behind me, Kel felt his way along the hallway, groping in the dark. Suddenly, I remembered the night before, his footsteps chasing me down to the Compass Rose. Kel had claimed he was just trying to catch up with me. But it hadn’t been the only time he’d followed me in the dark.

  “Faye. Stop!”

  My hands hit a latch and I yanked on it, jerking the door open.

  I sprinted across the main room, heading for the front door. Kel was right on my heels. The front door swung open and I screeched to a stop.

  Dragon loomed over me. She grabbed her pepper spray and gave me a cruel smile, even while avoiding my eyes.

  I did a 180. Kel was gone. I ducked down the maze of hallways. Left turn. Then a right. Another left.

  “I found her!” Dragon shouted, not far behind me.

  I took a right and slammed straight into Freddy, a grin spreading across his meaty face. His eyes focused behind me as I heard Dragon rounding the corner.

  His fat fingers dug into my shoulders. “So nice of you to—”

  Then we both heard the pssssss of Dragon’s pepper spray. Freddy managed to yell, “Jesus Christ! You stupid f—” before it hit us.

  Fumes from the pepper spray smacked me in the nose. Snot and tears streamed down my face. I fought to get my arms free from Freddy’s grip, desperate to get out of the tiny hallway. To rub my eyes. My throat ratcheted shut.

  Freddy growled, letting go of one of my arms. He pulled his heavy shirt up over his nose and mouth. My jumpsuit was too tight to cover my face, so I just swiped at my eyes.

  “Why don’t you just spray it right in my face, you jackass!” Freddy yelled muffled curses at Dragon, who was down on her knees, choking.

  I couldn’t breathe. Everything burned from the inside out. Even so, it hurt less than Kel’s betrayal.

  Kel’d gotten me to tell him everything, playing dumb, while he’d been sitting there keeping secrets of his own. It hadn’t taken much, had it? Whispered words. A couple of heated glances. And poor Faye was spilling her guts.

  All the while he’d been— What? Stalking me? What else had he done to me? How had I ended up digging in the mud? Or sprawled on the floor of my room?

  What about the others? Did they know more than they were telling too? A few minutes ago, I’d felt so certain. So confident. Now I wasn’t sure what to believe.

  All I knew was that Kel had gotten me to confide in him from day one. Confessions in Solitary. Secrets at Free Time. “Accidental” meetings. But why? What does he want with me?

  Freddy yanked me to the floor and started crawling down the hallway, pulling me behind him. I tried to use my free hand to crawl, but my body was just a spasm of coughing. Finally, I let Freddy drag me out of the noxious fumes, grating my hands and face against the marble floor. Behind me, Dragon was left abandoned, gagging on the ground.

  20

  I WAS STILL CRYING and wheezing when Freddy hauled me to Dr. Mordoch’s office. She sat perched behind her desk as if nothing was wrong, though a few strands had come loose from her usually perfect ponytail. The filing cabinet loomed behind her, and all I could think of was the drawer full of notes and the drawing I’d made under hypnosis. Somehow Dr. Mordoch was involved with all of this, and I almost begged Freddy not to leave me with her. This wasn’t the way I wanted to face her.

  I don’t want to face her at all.

  “Many students are learning the Consequences of their actions today.” Dr. Mordoch shook her head plaintively, a sad smile poised on her lips. She looked at the papers on her desk. At her diplomas on the wall. Anywhere but my eyes. “As much as I’d like to, you know I can’t make exceptions for you, Faye, simply because I knew you as a child.”

  She was gearing up for a lecture, but even though I was sniveling and bruised, I refused to let her run this meeting. “I don’t want special treatment.”

  If I surprised her, she didn’t show it. “Of course you do, Faye. We all expect the world to treat us special. We are, after all, us. That’s what causes us such pain and makes us hurt those around us.”

  Dr. Mordoch stood up and came around her desk, really enjoying her own speech.

  “That’s why we wear uniforms here and use the titles of our positions, like Uncle or Caretaker, instead of names. The sooner we lose our illusions that we are special and stop expecting the world to treat us that way, the sooner we can be happy. Don’t you want to be happy?”

  Happy? Happy’s an option?

  Would I be happy if I stopped waking up on the floor? If I could kiss Kel without plunging into a nightmare? If I let Dr. Mordoch numb me into normality? Maybe I’d be better off.

  “Faye, as a child, you were too caught up in your fantasy world. But now things are different.” Dr. Mordoch’s eyes were shining as she spre
ad her hands wide, as if she was trying to get them around all of Holbrook Academy. “With this school, these resources, I have . . . we have a chance to change things. To remedy the past.”

  Yes. I could start over. I could be someone else. I rubbed at my eyes, aching from pepper spray and exhaustion, and thought about the frenzy of arrows calling to me in the passageway. About red-stained hands and apocalyptic diary entries. About watching myself claw at the ground like a madwoman. And about Kel.

  I would do anything to unsee that vision. To go back to that moment when I wasn’t alone anymore. Dr. Mordoch sat down in the chair next to me and I scooted closer. Maybe she could take it all away.

  “Don’t you understand that I’m trying to make it up to you? Can’t you see the opportunity we’ve created for you?”

  I thought about the deed to Holbrook mixed in with my files. I was right, then: this was all about me. Dr. Mordoch kept her eyes fixed on my hand. As she reached for it, I could hear the waves coming to drown me. Feel the salt stinging my swollen tongue. No.

  I yanked my hand away. Whatever she’s offering, it’s not happiness.

  Dr. Mordoch looked hurt for a second, like I’d slapped her. Confusion flitted through her eyes and something else—fear, maybe? Then her eyes dimmed and her usual cloying smile found its way back onto her face.

  “Fine, Faye. We can play it your way. Tomorrow morning, while your Family is at Art and Life, you will be cleaning every shower stall, sink, and toilet on campus.”

  A punishment crafted especially for not-special me. My mouth tasted bitter as I was escorted out of Dr. Mordoch’s office and down to the cafeteria. As demeaning as art class had been, I longed to have something solid to hold on to. A paintbrush in my fist. The grain of the paper under my fingertips. Ever since I’d come to Holbrook, I’d been slipping. Slipping where? Away? I didn’t know and I didn’t want to find out.