by Cady Vance
Time stops.
And the horrible sound of buzzing, overcharged electricity fills up the room, races up my spine and into my head. Odin roars in pain, and I feel like part of my heart breaks off and crumbles to the ground.
“ODIN!” I scream, twisting my wrists and shaking with fear.
He tumbles to the ground. He twitches and spasms, feet kicking the table, books falling onto his shaking form. Gym Boy stands over him. Blood cakes his face. His hand hangs limply at his side where his fingers are curled around the black object, blue sparks spouting off its end.
“What did you do to him?” My entire body sags as I watch my brother twitch. And then twitch. Until he is barely twitching at all. He stills. His eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. “Odin?”
Gym Boy leans down and holds his fingers to my bother’s neck. “Good. No pulse.”
Nine
Sleep is essential to psychological health.
- The Chronic Insomnia Handbook for Patients
Odin.
Odin. Odin. Odin. Odin.
I realize I am saying his name aloud. I am on my knees. Saying my brother’s name. But he isn’t responding. Someone is arguing, but my brain is too clouded to understand.
“Did you have to bloody kill him?” The British boy.
I crawl forward and press my hands to Odin’s chest.
“They gave me the taser. Said to go ahead and use it if they fought back. What, they didn’t tell you that?”
A pause. “Right.”
Someone picks me up from the ground and holds me steady. I imagine it is Odin. The rock. The indestructible Odin. I choke.
My eyes are on fire, and I want to let them burn.
“Sam’s finally coming to, and people are going to show up here eventually. This shit was loud.”
“Come on, then,” someone says to me. “I’ve got her. I’ll take her down to the van. You two…I guess you’ll take care of the guy.”
“Come back up when you’re done. We might need your help.”
I am numb. Reality has shattered into a thousand jagged fragments, and the world is not my own. I am no longer sure of where I am and what surrounds me. I know someone is leading me. Down, down, down. My face is wet. I don’t care. Nothing matters to me anymore. My brother is dead. So am I.
***
Cool air blasts my face. I suck in breath as if I’ve been drowning and am now cresting my face over the surface of the churning water. When the world blurs back into distinguishable shapes, I see a green dumpster, brick walls squeezing in tight on either side of me and…two blue eyes peering at me through a mop of fluffy dark hair.
His hands encircle my wrists. I gasp and take a step back, a new punch of grief thrown into my gut. It’s all I can do not to double over as the shock of it all begins to wear off. Odin. My breath comes out in quick puffs. They’ve killed him. And now they’re going to kill me. A whimper escapes from my traitorous throat.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” he says in that low, soothing British accent, though it does nothing to calm my nerves.
Instead, my cloying fear is replaced by righteous anger. I can feel it burning in my eyes, and when his response is another step closer, my anger only heats up to explosive level.
“You killed my brother.” Tears sting my eyes, and I try to pull my wrists from his grip, but he doesn’t let go. “Let me go.”
He takes a deep breath, and I watch as he drags his tongue across his lips before he speaks. “I am so sorry.”
Surprised, I blink. Sorry? And it’s as if his words are the last blow against what little strength I have because my body begins to shake, my knees begin to wobble and I’m not sure I can stand. I want to curl up on this dirty alley floor and cry until I cannot breathe anymore.
“Bloody hell,” he says with such gentleness, it makes my heart hurt even more. I hug my shaking arms to my chest, my teeth chattering. All I want is to get away from the person responsible for Odin’s death, but I can’t find the strength within me to run away. “I had no idea they would do what they did. I should have stopped them.”
“Stopped them?” I choke out a bitter laugh. “You helped.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m not one of them. Listen to me. Thora, is it?” His hands move up the length of my arms to rest on my shoulders. He leans forward, eyes staring intently into my own. I hold my breath. “I know you’re in shock. I know you’re grieving. But these people are obviously dangerous, and you need to get out of here. Now. Before they come outside and realize I haven’t put you in the van. The only place you’re going to be safe from them is the Insomniac Cafe. I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but you need to make it to the Cafe. Then, you can grieve, cry, yell, punch me, whatever you fancy doing. Do you understand?”
I shake my head, the world a blur of motion and colors and sounds.
“What is this?” he asks, bringing my chess piece up in front of my eyes. My heart leaps out at it, my ripping soul attaching itself to this tiny, breakable thing. I reach out, grasp it as if it is a lifeline, the only thing holding me here. It’s smooth and solid and heavy and warm, and everything I need it to be. At the mere touch of it, the world seems to steady around me, even though my heart feels as if it has been shattered into a thousand broken shards.
“Good.” He nods. “Now hold on to that, and get out of here while you can. Make it to the Cafe. Don’t let them win this.”
His words are like a slap in the face, breaking through all the emotion churning through my stomach, all the pain choking my heart. It’s replaced by a new fear and the knowledge he’s right. This is no longer about escaping the Clinic’s tests. It’s about staying alive.
Gemma’s words echo in my brain. I can’t let them break me.
“Do you understand?” He repeats. The intensity of his voice would be alarming if my alarm wasn’t already at maximum level. And a part of me, the part that can’t stop picturing Odin’s twitching body on the hardwood floor doesn’t think I can do this. But, a much larger part is screaming, Go!
I nod. “Where do I go? What do I do?” I shudder. I thought I would be doing this with Odin. He’s the one who had all the answers. I close my eyes and squeeze the chess piece tighter against my chest. “I don’t know if I can do this on my own.”
“Yes, you can.” He squeezes my shoulders, and I realize he is still holding me steady. When his fingers fall away, I can still feel where he was touching me, like he left behind bracelets of heat. “Go to New York Costumes now. The clues will lead you to the Cafe. You’ll be there by the end of the night.” The smile he gives me is sad, so turned down you could mistake it for a frown. “And you won’t be completely alone. You’ll be seeing me again.”
When he turns to go, I fight the urge to reach out and stop him. Whoever he is, he’s helping me, and once he goes, I will be completely and utterly alone.
“Wait,” I say. Who are you?”
“I’m Lucas.” Shouting sounds from somewhere nearby, and his head jerks toward the noise. “You better go.”
***
I slip through the open iron gates at the end of the alley and edge onto the sidewalk, choking down the urge to collapse into a puddle and give into the sobs clawing their way up my throat.
I throw my feet into a run, dodging pedestrians strolling along the street, grateful I don’t have far to go. The chess piece knocks hard against my chest as I run, and I reach up to slip it under my shirt. My body is raging a war against me as I try to force it forward. All it wants is for me to fall onto a bed and sprawl there for hours. My vision swims. My legs wobble as my feet keep soaring.
I make a hard left onto Fourth Avenue, almost sliding into an elderly man hobbling through the crosswalk. Headlights momentarily blind my eyes. When my vision clears, I see the black awning of New York Costumes halfway down the block.
I don’t dare look behind me. Even though Lucas said he’d hold them up if they spotted me flying down the street, terror bites at my heels.
My breath rattles out of me. My legs shake. I careen into the store and force myself to slow. Cool air and a sharp tangy scent sting my lungs. My vision blurs as my headache slams back into my skull at full force.
Doctor Jeremy. I need to call Doctor Jeremy. I shove my hand into my back pocket only to feel empty flaps of denim. New tears cloud my vision as my fingers dig through the fabric. There’s nothing there. The number is gone.
“Thora?” My entire body seizes up with fear. I sweep my eyes through the dimly-lit store to see Aiden standing by a Lord of the Rings costume display, frown on his face. He rushes to my side and places a hand on my shoulder. I almost break down into tears of relief from the sight of this other insomniac. I’d forgotten all about him. All I want is to hear Doctor Jeremy’s familiar voice on the other end of the phone, but at least I have this strange boy here now.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Has something happened?”
I try to voice the words, but they’re lodged in my throat. “They showed up at the bookstore.” It’s all I can manage to say.
“Oh god.” His eyes flick behind me, and I freeze again, terrified they’re standing right behind me. “Where’s your brother?”
I stiffen, not sure if I can tell Aiden what happened, not sure if I can bring myself to relive the horrible details. If I do, I don’t think I can keep my swirling emotions at bay. I need them to be to make it through the night. Aiden needs to know the danger he’s in, too, the danger we’re all in, but when I try to find the words, my tongue thickens and my headache threatens to crush my skull.
“They took him.” I flinch at the lie.
He stiffens and scans my face, concern softening his already boyish features. He reaches out and softly places a hand on my shoulder. “Oh my god. Are you okay? What happened? You look…like you’re going to pass out. Do you need to sit down?”
I nod but don’t let myself slide to the floor. “We need to get out of here. They’re close by.”
“How did you get away?”
“My brother.” I cough and have to close my eyes to continue. “He fought them so we could get away.” Even though I’m only lying to protect myself, I still felt guilty about it. And when those clear gray eyes look into mine, I almost feel as if he can see the dirty lie wriggling inside me like a worm.
Instead of questioning me more, he holds up a scrap of paper I haven’t noticed until now. “This is the next clue. I almost want to say I told you so, but it doesn’t feel like the nice guy kind of thing to do in this situation.”
The clue. “I wish we’d listened to you. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
And that’s when it hits me. It was my idea to go to The Strand instead of New York Costumes. Maybe if I hadn’t insisted, we would have come here instead. Odin would still be alive. I’m almost crushed by the force of my thoughts. I’m blinded by the pain soaring through my heart. It almost feels as if it will stop completely, as if jagged nails are digging into the very fabric of my being.
“It’s my fault,” I whisper, though I don’t mean to say it aloud.
“There was no way for you to know,” Aiden says. “It’s their fault. The Sleepers. I know he really didn’t want to go back to the Clinic, but he can always try next time the Cafe opens to more members. He can escape again.”
Next time. Odin will never have a next time of anything. Not a next birthday, not a next night of sneaked Dr. Pepper and chocolate cupcakes, not a next movie and popcorn night, not even a next treatment.
Odin swings into the kitchen, whistling. My head is heavy in my hands, elbows digging into the granite countertop where I’m curled up on a stool.
“Have a bad day?” he asks, opening the freezer door.
“I got yelled at in gym for not paying attention. Again. It got back to Mom and Dad. Again. More yelling. What, am I supposed to be mesmerized watching everyone else run around while I have to sit there?”
“Look what I sneaked in.” He plucks a frozen pizza from the shelf and reaches for some soda. “This calls for your favorite thing. A marathon movie night. Your pick. Though maybe not Edward Scissorhands again.”
“Thora?” Aiden asks. “You sure you’re okay?”
I force myself to pull it together and straighten my shaking shoulders. “Yeah, I’m just…upset about….”
“The best thing we can do is get moving and make sure we don’t get taken back to a Clinic, too. He’d want you to keep going, right? He obviously put up a fight so you wouldn’t get caught.”
“Yeah,” I say. “The last thing he’d want is for me to get caught.”
Caught. And killed.
Ten
Pavor Nocturus, or sleep terrors, are likely to occur in Stage IV Insomniacs during nighttime hours, when the body believes it should be asleep.
- The Chronic Insomnia Handbook for Patients
The night suffocates me when we step outside. My every hair stands on end. A block and a half away, Sleepers are probably searching for me. They must have realized by now Lucas did not deliver me to their van. All the faces streaming by flash with sharp, menacing features before settling into their ordinary human softness. Mouths broken in jagged toothy grins. Eyes shooting laser beams of bloodthirsty red. Knife-edged noses slicing black holes into the already black night, threatening to suck me into oblivion.
“We need to hurry.” I pull at the ends of my sleeves, my head jerked one way and then the next in a futile attempt to keep every person and object on this bustling city block in my sights.
Aiden’s gaze sharpens on my fidgeting fingers. “Do you really think they’ll come here?”
“I think if they know where we were really supposed to go, then yeah.” I sweep my gaze across our surroundings again. “They’ll do whatever it takes to get to us.”
“Okay,” Aiden says, waving his hand to the left. “Let’s head to the subway. Closest is only a couple blocks away, but we need to pass close to The Strand to get there, so we need to haul ass, okay?”
I’m glad he doesn’t argue or ask any more questions. We need to get away from this place as fast as humanly possible, but I still find it hard when I take those first few steps down the sidewalk, my feet shuffling against the concrete in their soft slippers, the ones like Odin wore, too. Every step I take is taking me further from him. It’s hard enough not to collapse in on myself; it’s even harder to find the will to move forward.
We reach the crosswalk with no sign of the Sleepers. My eyes zero in on The Strand way down the block as we race across the crosswalk. I almost expect the Sleepers to come racing down the streets, but all I see are blobs of people that far away. Still, I don’t take a single breath until the store blurs out of sight, hiding behind brick angles of buildings. I blink away tears and focus my eyes on the ground. I don’t want Aiden to see the specks of water that burn so bad. I don’t want him to ask why I’m crying.
“Where do we go next?” I ask him, breaking the silence to break misery’s hold on my thoughts.
“I’m not sure.” I hear the crinkle of paper and then the clearing of his throat. But I don’t look his way. I’m too busy glancing behind us every few steps we take, just to make sure. Even though we’ve passed The Strand’s street without being spotted, I can feel it watching us, like the building’s shaded windows are another pair of Sleeper eyes, vision slithering through the cracks and crevices of the city to land on us here, shuffle-walk-jogging in this mass of pedestrian traffic. “I could actually use your help with this one. I hope you’re kind of nerdy.”
I finally turn to face him. “Nerdy?”
“Yeah, listen to this.” He clears his throat again as we stride forward, passing a lit-up specialty chocolate store. The people inside look cheery and warm, fitting in well with the rich reds and browns decorating the booths. Seeing this only makes the chill seep further into my bones.
“Spiderman is waiting for you.
White-haired man is watching you.”
My feet slow; my blood harden
s into ice. A group of laughing girls pass. Their voices scream into the night, and suddenly they are wearing wigs of white. The white strands curl into snakes, teeth dripping with venom. I stop straight in the middle of the sidewalk and close my eyes. These are just hallucinations, Thora. The light has gone from the sky, and my nightmares are coming for me, like they do every night, especially now that reality has become one itself. I feel the towering buildings shift closer and closer, pushing in around me until I have no room to breathe in this coffin of steel.
“Thora?” Aiden’s voice restarts my heart. “Don’t take it literally. It’s just a clue.”
I slowly open my eyes and look at him, knowing everything in my heart is reflected on my face. I don’t have to tell him something more happened at The Strand than what I’ve told him. He can tell.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” I say.
I don’t know why I expect this stranger to have answers. Even though I don’t know his story, there must be a reason he’s here. A reason he is searching for a new home, a new family, a way to close his eyes and dream. For all I know, he has lost his whole world like me.
“Answer me this. Why did you come here?”
“We were in a Clinic. It was awful.” I shudder, now that I know exactly what they’re willing to do. “And because I need to sleep. It’s been one hundred and twenty-seven…no, twenty-eight now. It’s been one hundred and twenty-eight days since I’ve slept.”
Aiden widens his eyes long enough for me to catch it before his expression steadies. He nods. “No matter what happened back there, those things are still true.”
“I just feel so…lost.” My voice cracks on the words.
“Well, you can’t let them win.”
That’s what Gemma would say.