Shattered Secrets

by Krystal Wade

  “You can leave now.” Derick grabbed Mark by the shirt and hauled him through the room, then pushed him out the door. “Enjoy the prunes. At least they’re not as shriveled as your balls.”

  Megan stood in front of me, unmoving, with accusation in her red eyes. Her silence broke my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing sorry could never be enough for what the future held. “When it happened, neither of us even knew what the vision was. I couldn’t look at you afterward, or Will.”

  “So that’s why you ran away from the party.” Will tugged on Megan’s shirt, gently forcing her to sit next to him. “It happened there, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Would you have believed us?” Derick remained standing against the door, probably an attempt to keep Mark out if he chose to barge in again. “What we are is hard enough for us to believe, but we’ve experienced things we can’t deny. Our plan, if you could call it that since we didn’t get a chance to talk about it, was to tell you what we could and then stay away from you. But then your dad showed up and Megan came to the beach—there hasn’t been any time for us to figure out how to tell you anything since then either.”

  Will nodded. “So how does it happen? Mark says there’s no avoiding it. I want to know how I’m going to die.”

  All the color drained from Megan’s face. No one should know how and when they’re going to die. That would make living so much more difficult, being afraid all the time, aware that all plans for the future are off-limits. Redness rimmed Will’s eyes. He pulled Megan closer and rested his cheek on top of her head.

  Any other time and Megan would have smiled at the public affection he showed her.

  I couldn’t help but feel guilty that because of us, she didn’t get to celebrate or enjoy this moment with the guy she’d pined after for so long.

  “Do you really want to know what we saw?” Derick, giving up his post by the door, returned to my side and took my hand. “Because it’s not much to go on.”

  “I want to know.” Megan wiped her cheeks with a tissue. “Maybe it’ll be easier, knowing.”

  He took a deep breath and squeezed my fingers. “We were in your pool, and there was a sudden explosion—a huge blast. It was dark out, and fire burned everywhere. Houses, trees, boats. People were running and screaming, all going in one direction. So Abby and I climbed out of the pool and followed them—”

  “You followed people in a vision?” Will sat up straight, his interest growing.

  “We had no idea what was happening,” I said, “We thought the vision was real.”

  “Everyone stood in a tight circle around something on the beach behind your house. When we cut through the crowd, there you two were. Dead. And Aedan Mordha looked right at Abby and said ‘you did this’. That was it.”

  You did this.

  Those words would haunt me forever. Will and Megan stared at us, wide-eyed, shocked, maybe even a little afraid.

  “I don’t want to kill you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Derick squeezed my fingers again. “Obviously the vision is a little strange, since we have no intention of going swimming in your pool again. But from what I’ve read about people with our ability, it seems there’s no escaping what we saw.”

  “So you want to send us to the very place you saw us killed? That makes no sense!” Will narrowed his eyes. “Why not just keep us here? Obviously your job is to protect humans, and you’ve seen us die at my house! We’re not leaving.”

  “Will…”

  He grabbed Megan by the hand and ran from the room, shouting up the stairs that this was his boat and if anyone had a problem with it, they could find their own.

  “That went well,” Derick said, getting up to follow. He kept his head down but peered at me from the corner of his eyes.

  “Oh, sure. We tell our friends we envisioned them die and suggest sending them to the very location we saw it happen.” I sighed. “We look like assholes. And what the hell is up with Mark? He’s acting like a freaking crazed lunatic.”

  “You’re the one who used to play Matchbox cars with him. You tell me.” Derick pulled me against him, his warmth enveloping me. “Before we go back upstairs… are you okay?”

  I laid my head on his chest and listened to him breathe, taking comfort from him. I definitely wasn’t okay, not now, not after so much of this felt like my fault. “I’m fine.”

  “No you’re not.”

  I laughed, despite my desire to wail. “You’re right. I’m not.”

  The door to the room I’d spent most of the day crying in opened, and Mark stepped out. His eyes widened, then he quickly regained his composure and grinned like the moron he was, clasping his clenched fists behind his back. “Hey, guys. Can you believe this ship? All these huge cabinets stocked with Scotch and Brandy, and flat screen TVs are on nearly every wall. And they have every single movie channel known to man on them!”

  “That’s what you’ve been doing?” Derick tightened his hands into fists, the muscles in his forearm flexing. “Fávlosi abducted Abby, they killed her parents, we’ve seen Will and Megan die, and you’re sneaking around getting drunk and trying to watch fucking football?”

  “You have a better suggestion?”

  “You’re damn right I do.”

  Before I could stop him, Derick surged forward and slammed his fist into Mark’s jaw. He stumbled back but caught himself with the wall, then pounced on Derick with the speed and grace of a mountain lion and knocked him to the ground. They rolled around on the floor, their strengths somehow matched, their faces red.

  “Don’t!” I couldn’t stand watching them punch each other, the instant splotches of red on their cheeks, the bloody lips, the grunting and everything that screamed barbaric men. But I couldn’t stand between them either, not without getting hurt.

  Derick found an advantage and flipped Mark onto his back. Straddling his chest, Derick pressed his knees on Mark’s biceps, hands at his throat. “Is everyone in Kalós like you? Arrogant and reckless?”

  “I’d… love… to find out,” Mark wheezed, “Can’t… breathe…”

  “Let him go, Derick.” I placed my hand on Derick’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

  He looked up at me, blood trailing down his nose, and his expression softened.

  “Please let him go.” From the corner of my eyes, I saw Mr. Snellings and Mr. Crawford barreling down the stairs. “Please, Derick. Before this gets worse.”

  With a glance down, Derick released the hold he had on Mark and stood—

  And Mark swung his legs around, knocking Derick into me. I fell into the door and smacked my head on the knob. Hard. Everything around me buzzed. Little sparks flashed before my eyes. A buzzing noise filled my ears.

  I heard them calling my name. I felt their hands on my shoulders. But I didn’t want their help. Shakily feeling my way up the wall, I got to my feet and glared at them. “What the hell—?”

  The ship lurched to the right, and my head collided with the wall again. Somewhere below us an alarm sounded, and from somewhere else I heard a scream, shrill and piercing. Darkness assaulted the edge of my vision, then there was nothing.

  Derick

  very nerve in my body grated. I wanted to tear Mark apart, but he disappeared when the lights went out. As did everything else.

  Sirens sounded all over the ship, and emergency lights blinked in the hall. Through the shadows, I saw Abby lying on the floor.

  Not moving.

  Eyes closed.

  Kneeling beside her, I checked for a pulse.

  Thank God. Abby’s heart beat slowly, but the fact her heart was beating gave me hope she’d be okay. I slid my arms under her—

  “Mark, no. Please. This isn’t you.” Mrs. Snellings’ voice trembled, a sound I’d never once heard. Not that I spent much time around the woman, but knowing who we are—and who she was… the fear coming from her traveled right into the p
it of my stomach.

  “Stop telling me who I am!” Mark yelled. “You know nothing, especially about me. You come here, acting like you have all the answers, and you’re just as clueless as Derick.”

  I picked up Abby and ran to one of the bedrooms, her limp arms and legs bobbing with every step. Something was about to happen, and I had to get her out of harm’s way. Tucking the blanket around her, I kissed her forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry you keep getting hurt.”

  “Please, Mark, stay back. Think about what you’re doing.” My dad’s normally calm disposition disappeared along with Mrs. Snellings’.

  “I’m saving Abigail. I’m helping. What is it that you’re doing?”

  Leaving Abby here, unconscious, seemed wrong. But I had to see whatever had Mark’s mom and my dad so upset, what had Mark so upset. I snuck down the hall with my back to the wall until I got to the stairs. Once I peeked around the corner and saw… no.

  The moonlight poured into the cabin, illuminating Mark with a knife in his hand. He leaned forward, poised to launch himself at his mother and father.

  I shook my head.

  What was he doing? And four against one. Why were they afraid?

  Mark turned his head toward me, a cocky, crazed look on his face. He took a step in my direction, and I took a step back.

  I needed a gun.

  Or something.

  He took another step and growled, low and thunderous.

  Mr. Snellings dropped to his knees, a flare gun aimed at his son’s chest, fingers trembling over the trigger. “Please. If you kill him, you know what it will do to her. Please, Mark. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Kill me?

  Over the last few days, weird things happened. But this?

  This was the weirdest.

  Mark… a killer?

  He lifted his booted foot, trembling, a maniac on the edge and failing to hold himself together, about to take another step when Mrs. Snellings fell next to her husband, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “She’ll never forgive you. Abigail loves Derick.” She choked on a sob. “We can help you. There are ways to reverse what’s been done to you. Please, honey. Please don’t hurt that girl any more than she’s already been hurt. Spare Derick.”

  “Abigail is mine, mine. She doesn’t need Derick. Why can’t you see that?” Mark’s lip curled up, and he turned and launched himself at his parents just as the red flare illuminated the room. They screamed and shrieked as he released guttural, awful screams, pounding his knife into them. He tossed the knife and opted for breaking their bones with his fist. The snapping sounds made me sick, made me unable to move, to stop staring as this… as—what was this?—ripped them apart.

  His parents.

  Mark.

  “Derick, get Abby and bring her to the life raft. I just sent Will and Megan outside,” my dad yelled above the sounds of gurgles and Mark’s insane moaning—I wanted to cover my ears and pretend I was anywhere but here. I wasn’t trained for this. Not ready for blood and fights. “And hurry!”

  Pretend. Hurry.

  I had a plan.

  I’m running on a hillside, surrounded by the stark and lonely darkness of a moonless night. Milky stars drown the sky, casting a dim silvery glow onto the earth. I’m alone, but I’m being followed. My heart races as I stop and glance back at the sea of strange shadows chasing me. Hooded figures with pale white faces and hands, their eyes glowing red. Men and women, swift, elegant, ethereally beautiful, blood dripping from their fingertips. Cracks ricochet over my head, and a cool breeze sends chills down my bare arms. How many other things are here that I cannot see? I look at my hands, covered in cuts and scrapes, gripping tightly to History of Kalós. Protecting it. My shorts and tank top have been replaced with tight jeans, a white T-shirt, and a leather holster with crisscrossing straps attached to my chest. Short blades. Long blades. Wooden stakes. Potions. Things I don’t know how to use. Things I don’t understand.

  “Keep moving,” a familiar voice shouts inside my head. Derick. “Don’t let them get the book. We have to keep it safe.”

  “Come on,” Mark shouts, holding out his hand to me.

  Where did he come from?

  I quickly peer back at the approaching monsters, then take off running. Up and up. Farther and farther. Sweat covers my forehead. Fear makes me cold. We keep climbing until the hillside is so far below us I realize we’re climbing a mountain, and we were only at the foothills before. Loose rocks crunch under our feet; some even tumble behind us, clicking and clacking as they fall down and prick our pursuers.

  “Where are we going?” I ask Mark, gasping for breath.

  He shakes his head and keeps moving. “No time.”

  I see the top of the mountain now; it’s covered in slippery green moss, ice-cold water trickling down through the cracks in the thick gray stone. “What’s up there?”

  Mark grabs my free hand and yanks me the remaining distance to the snowy cap, the shadows now screaming behind us. “See for yourself.”

  Fávlosi. Everywhere. Men, women, children. All of them standing in clusters with weapons drawn, forming an impenetrable wall in front of me. I look back and see the pale-skinned monsters gathering behind us. I’m trapped.

  “What do you want?”

  A woman who could be in her late twenties or early thirties removes her hood, allowing her brown hair to fall in loose curls at her shoulders, and steps forward. “I believe you know. And if you refuse, we will take him.”

  Why do they want the book?

  “Keep it safe.” Derick’s voice passes through my consciousness once more, but where is he?

  The wall of Fávlosi parts, and there he is, lying on a stone table before me, hands and feet bound, eyes closed and face as white as a full moon. Derick.

  I’m frozen.

  The woman snaps her fingers, and three men move to his side, licking their lips as they raise knives over their heads. “Take any longer and he’ll be dead.”

  I thrust the book at her.

  She laughs, snaps again, and all I hear are Derick’s screams—

  I bolted upright in bed, blood pounding against my temples from the nightmare, a steady thrumming in my ears. Just a dream. Just an awful, horrible dream.

  The room was dark as pitch; not even a little light filtered through the door… wherever the door was. “Hello?”

  “Abby? Thank God you’re awake.” Mark’s voice, riddled with concern, sounded parched and raspy. “You were crying out in your sleep so much I thought maybe we should head into the hospital again, maybe you had another concussion.”

  “Where are you?” I felt around for a lamp but couldn’t find one. “And why is it so dark in here?”

  “Power’s out.”

  “What happened?”

  Mark sat on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress until he found my hand. His slender fingers were sweaty and hot, tense, and he squeezed them around my palm. “What didn’t happen is more like it.” He sighed. “Well, while your boyfriend displayed his excellent street-thug skills, your little spirit friends possessed a nice human family and convinced them to ram their yacht into the bow of ours as a sort of murder/suicide. Apparently the captain deserves the honor of captaining this ship, as he saw them approaching and took evasive measures. While we did take a hit, the ship only incurred minimal side-swiping-type damage. He says the power should be back on in no time.”

  My heart sped up, and every inch of me blazed with heat. Adrenaline and fear coursed through me like fire. It’s not what Mark said that caused me to worry, but what he didn’t say. Why was he sitting in the room alone with me? What happened to the people who attacked us? Was anyone hurt? “And where is everyone?”

  “My dad is trying to convince the captain not to call the Coast Guard. Doesn’t take much, you know. He’s quite talented in what he does, more talented and proud than the rest of us.” Mark paused, rubbing his thumb along the inside of my hand. “I wish you would have trusted him mo
re.”

  Would have? I pulled away, fighting the urge to wipe his sweat from my hand. He couldn’t see me, but who knew when the lights would choose to come back on. I didn’t need another argument with Mark. Things were uncomfortable enough. “And Derick’s parents? Where are they?”

  “Well, they’re either rescuing the humans who attacked us or trying to figure out what to do with Will and Megan. You shouldn’t have brought them into all of this.”

  “I didn’t bring them into anything. They saved us. What were we supposed to do? Tell them no thanks, please let us die?” My head throbbed even harder, and I rubbed my neck. I couldn’t stand the additional heat the comforter brought me, so I tossed it aside and carefully crawled out of bed.

  “You really need rest.”

  “Since when do you care how much rest I get?”

  “Since you decided to run away from home and nearly get yourself killed, repeatedly.” He grabbed my hand again and squeezed. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect you, but you make it so hard when you’re around him. I have no idea what you see in Derick, Abby.”

  “Bite me, Mark.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He took a deep, strained breath as if he choked on a laugh. “Where are you going?”

  “To find Derick. To talk to his parents, and yours. To do something. I can’t sit around in the dark while everyone else risks their life to keep me safe.” Being blind didn’t help my frustration. I bumped into the dresser, rattling the glasses that managed to stay upright during the attack, and fumbled my way to the door. I turned the knob and took a step into the hallway, just as dark as the room except for little security lights flashing near the ceiling. “Where is Derick, by the way?”

  “I’m sure you’ll bump into him somewhere.” Acid filled Mark’s tone. “You always do.”

  “Thanks… I think.” I held my arms out at my sides, like a gymnast on a balance beam, feeling for switches that might be off, or for the cut in the wall where the stairs were. I wanted to run but wasn’t even sure which bedroom Mark had brought me to. Everything felt foreign. The air was too cold for Florida, colder than I remembered it being before the fight in the hall. Or maybe my nerves were frazzled.