Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series)

by Boyd, Abigail

  She twisted her hair even tighter around her finger. If she’d been alive, it would have been throbbing purple with restricted blood flow.

  “They said the Dark place is coming.”

  The temperature dropped again and I glanced at my surroundings. Even though we were standing in the pool of a street lamp, shadows seemed to be drawing up around us. I heard a faint rustling, and watched as the shadows grew darker and thicker. Humanoid shapes began to form, more distinct and solid. Delayed fear rushed through me, making my skin even colder.

  I took a step outside the circle towards them. The dark shapes drew back instantly with a hushing susurration: the sound of someone blowing out a match flame or taking a final breath.

  When I glanced back towards Alyssa, she was gone.

  ###

  “You’re late,” Madison cracked the instant I arrived in the locker room. She was more than a little annoyed at having to wait. I’d walked in on her pacing in between the lockers in her sweaty basketball jersey.

  After I’d run back inside, I’d practically tossed Claire’s purse at her. She’d been at the center of cooing Thornhill mommies, so she hadn’t asked any questions. I chugged it as fast as I could to the gym without drawing attention to myself.

  “Sorry, I got caught up,” I said. “I made it here as fast as I could.”

  “I almost left without you,” she hissed. “I had to make all kinds of excuses for why I was sticking around.”

  “Do you want me to leave now?” I’d never considered Madison a friend and I wasn’t about to put up with her crap. “It was your idea to meet up instead of talking over the phone.”

  She breathed in deeply through her nose and squeezed her eyes shut, calming herself down. “I wanted to meet in person because I’m paranoid like my parents. They always tell me not to say important stuff over the phone, in case it’s bugged and someone’s taping you. Not to mention, text messages can be saved.”

  “Are they international spies?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “No, they’re just computer nerds,” Madison said, pushing up the red headband covering her hair.

  “Okay,” I relaxed a little now that her confrontational tone had disappeared. “So, spill this ultra-important information.”

  Madison grabbed the front of my shirt and despite my protest, pulled me along, doing a quick sweep to make sure we were definitely alone.

  “That isn’t a leash,” I said angrily.

  She dropped my shirt and rolled her eyes, taking up a seat on one of the benches. I sat down hesitantly beside her, already thinking this was a mistake.

  “My parents talk at night when they don’t think I can hear them,” Madison began. “But I hide on the stairs and eavesdrop. They keep talking about how corrupt Thornhill is and that it frightens them. So, I’m freaked out, too.”

  “Understandable. But why couldn’t you say that before?”

  “Hold on, there’s more.” She tucked a lock of hair that had fallen in her face back behind one ear. “Lainey was gone the weekend of Jenna’s disappearance, like I said. But her father was home, and I think he might have had something to do with it.”

  “Why is that?” I asked, forcing myself not to get too excited and scare her off with my morbid enthusiasm.

  “Because he was home alone that whole weekend. And Mr. Ford is a night owl. He had to have seen someone driving up and dumping the body off. There’s no way he could have missed it. There are lights all along the shore; I mean, you saw them when you crashed her party.”

  “Cliff Ford is one of the main members of Thornhill. That’s a direct link.” Now I couldn’t help but let my eagerness break through.

  “I know. But it’s also a dangerous one. He holds a lot of influence in Hell. My parents would be blacklisted for life; Thornhill already keeps them out of most of the charity fund-raising. Mr. Ford helps with the local paper, and he’s been rejecting their ads for Topps for stupid reasons.”

  “Your parents own Topps, as in the grocery store?”

  “Yes, a little trio of local ones,” Madison explained. “We really don’t have that much money. I mean, we’re perfectly comfortable, but a lot of my clothes come from Plato’s Closet. I just spend enough time working on my image so that no one can tell. Harlow could tell the minute she saw me, though.”

  I decided to share what I knew, too. I felt like she was letting her guard down enough that I could trust her. She had more to lose than me, after all. Thornhill already knew what I thought of them.

  “I know for a fact that Warwick helped Ambrose dump Jenna’s body at the Ford’s dock,” I admitted.

  Madison’s buggy eyes went wide and she thumped my upper arm. “Spill.”

  “Ambrose admitted it in text messages the police found,” I lied swiftly. “They let my dad and me in on it because we were part of the case. So, your suspicions are probably correct.”

  “I knew it,” Madison said. “I….”

  Footsteps rang out in the hall, drawing closer.

  “Quick, we’ve gotta hide,” Madison whispered.

  We jumped up from the bench, scouting for hiding spots. I slid behind one end of a row of lockers and Madison followed suit on the one across from me. The door opened, making Madison jump. She held a finger to her pale lips.

  There was barely any visibility, but I made out a girl with a duffel bag going to one of the front lockers. We held our breath as she shuffled around in the locker, talking on her phone. Finally, she slammed the door and took back off again, none the wiser.

  Madison’s shoulders relaxed and she shut her eyes in relief.

  “We should go,” I told her. “But we need to keep up on this. See if you can get any straight answers from your parents.”

  Madison nodded. “I’ll help you any way I can. I just want Thornhill gone.”

  She gathered her things and slung her packed gym bag over her shoulder, dark blonde ponytail swishing.

  “Madison?” I asked timidly.

  “What?” She turned around.

  “Thanks.”

  She nodded once, then walked out of the locker room with a purposeful stride.

  ###

  On the way home, I stared out the car window, watching houses roll by with my chin on my hand. My mind was spilling over with thoughts of what Alyssa and Madison had told me. I barely even saw the other cars on the road, instead seeing Alyssa playing hopscotch in my head. Not to mention the shadows.

  I couldn’t deny that I’d seen them this time. There were too many of the shadows, the shapes too close to humans. Just thinking about the way they twitched made the hairs on my arms jump up.

  Claire was humming in the seat beside me. Her cupcakes had sold out, while Deana had leftover caramel corn. She obviously felt triumphant. She talked nonstop, letting off a shallow collection of burns against the Thornhill women. Her rant made it obvious she was filled with wicked glee.

  “Joan’s not even trying, never has,” Claire said. “She didn’t even attempt to tame her frizz. Still wearing the same crimpy mess as in high school. And those jeans! Who wears torn jeans with patches unless they’re a cowboy?” She cackled again, rocking in her seat.

  “At least she was nice, unlike every other mom there.” I was highly offended by Claire’s snobbishness.

  “You can’t base your impressions of people on their niceness,” Claire snapped. “Daisies are nice. Nobody wants a bouquet of them.”

  “Then what all-important criteria do I base my impressions on?” I asked.

  Claire shot me one of her withering glares. “Hard work. Prestige. Appearance. The whole package. Being nice isn’t enough. For instance, you really should start taking more pride in your appearance. Did you see the way that the other daughters looked tonight? Most of them were wearing lovely little dresses.”

  “I don’t own any dresses,” I said through gritted teeth, anger and irritation threatening to make me say worse. “Lovely, little or otherwise.”

  “Don’t get
snippy with me, young lady!” Claire said.

  “I’m not getting snippy. Ever since you started going to those meetings, you’ve changed.”

  “I’m just getting back to myself,” Claire muttered, staring off through the windshield. Her eyes were filmy and distant.

  It was like being with a disturbing teenage version of my mom. She reminded me chillingly of Lainey. I tuned her out, pretending she wasn’t there.

  CHAPTER 9

  I DESPERATELY WANTED to confront Jenna with the new information as soon as I got home, but I didn’t see her until I drove back from school the next day. She was sitting in a chair with her back to me, evidently staring into space, when I came down the basement steps.

  “You’ve been lying to me, too,” I told her, dropping my backpack on the couch.

  “What are you talking about?” Jenna asked irritably. She spun towards me, wearing her consummate poker face.

  “There’s something going on in Limbo, isn’t there?” Last year, she’d spoken of a fog that was starting to creep in. She hadn’t said anything about it since she had accepted her death. But I’d seen that fog in my dreams. “You’ve been pretending things are hunky-dory, and now I find out that they’re not.”

  Jenna looked down at the floor, hair falling in her eyes. “I expected you to confront me sooner or later. Tone down the anger a little, though. I can feel it. It’s like you’re blasting a heat ray.”

  Her admission hit me like a brick, and I sat down, feeling lightheaded as I tried to reign in my emotions.

  “Who did you hear about Limbo from?” Jenna asked.

  I explained what Alyssa had told me, including the part about the spooky kids. Then I told her about the weird shadows, both on the street and back in the bathroom stall. When I finished, she looked anxious, playing with the fringed ends of her jean shorts.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I hear them, too. Outside, singing sometimes—this really sad song. It’s depressing and creepy. The shadows do seem like they’re thicker and more…like creatures or something. I’d never seen anything quite like it until the first of them passed outside the window.”

  “Do you think they’re the children that Dexter killed?”

  “I don’t know about the shadows,” Jenna said. “Those seem more random, like they have less of a solid identity. I’ve only seen the orphans once or twice myself, but I’m assuming they’re the ones singing the song. Who else would it be?”

  “What about the fog?” I asked.

  “That’s always there, but I’ve learned not to pay attention to it. I think it’s just part of Limbo.”

  I felt a little hurt that she’d been so secretive. “Why didn’t you feel like you could tell me all this?”

  “I thought maybe if I ignored the shadows and the singing, they might go away,” Jenna admitted. “You were in school and things have been almost normal. I could pretend that I was still alive. But these things I’m seeing… they scare me, Ariel. You know I don’t do well with scary things. I’m not like you. I don’t have nerves of steel.”

  I laughed a little, trying not to feel bitter. “Nerves of steel? Yeah, right. I get scared all the time.”

  “So, what do we do about it?” Jenna said. “Because honestly, I don’t want to stay here forever. I don’t want to burden you….”

  “You’re not a burden,” I said immediately.

  “Okay, you say that now, all sure and free of doubt. But you’re going to college after next year,” Jenna said. I heard her voice break with emotion and I had to look away. “You can’t take me with you. I’m stuck here. But I don’t want to be stuck here with all of this creepy crap going on. I have to cut whatever rope is keeping me tied down. We need to figure out what is going on in your dreams.”

  “I haven’t had a dream in weeks. What if they’ve stopped? What if they were just flukes in the first place?”

  “We both know they haven’t stopped,” Jenna said. “You’re just getting a break.”

  She leaned forward, stretching her neck like it was sore. “The other day I went out.”

  “Went out where?”

  “I’ve wondered what happened to my running medals since I came back,” Jenna explained. I had so many of them. I just wanted to look at them one more time. They were my proudest achievement, which sounds kind of lame when I say it that way, but it’s the truth. I didn’t think I could go, but a few weeks ago I tried. Usually, I have to stay around you or take a nap, but I was able to push through all the way to my house. My parents were gone, and the house had a For Sale sign.”

  I already knew about the house being for sale. I also knew her parents were getting divorced, but I hadn’t told her yet. I bit my thumbnail, not knowing what to say.

  “Everyone and everything else is moving on,” she continued. “I don’t want to watch that by myself, knowing I can never change.”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but the sound of my parents shouting stopped me. Jenna and I both looked up at the ceiling, where we could hear Claire screaming and slamming things.

  Frowning at each other, we bolted to our feet and raced up the basement stairs. At the top of the staircase, I stalled with Jenna beside me. Claire was shaking Hugh’s phone in his face. He snatched it out of her hand and jammed it awkwardly into his pocket.

  “Thought you could hide her from me, did you?” Claire shouted. A jolt passed through me at the raw sound of her voice.

  “It’s not what you think, Claire,” Hugh said gruffly, backing up against the cupboards. He looked tired, the skin around his eyes puffy. But she kept after him.

  “Then tell me what it is,” Claire shot bitterly. She locked her arms across her chest like a bulletproof vest.

  “What is going on?” I asked. Jenna had conveniently disappeared again. I stepped up into the dining room. The tension was so thick I got instant goosebumps.

  Claire pointed her finger at Hugh. “Your father has been sending and receiving hundreds of text messages a week from Callie, the nurse at your school. He deleted them all, but I still saw the timestamps on his phone.”

  Now that Claire had backed up a little, Hugh stepped forward.

  “Why were you even checking my phone?” he barked.

  “You missed a phone call,” Claire said defensively. “I was checking to see if you’d gotten the text I sent earlier and stumbled onto this mass of missing messages.”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Hugh said, pushing around her and moving towards the stairs.

  “What do you mean by that?” Claire asked, following him. I heard them stomp up to the second floor and into their room. Their door slammed so hard that the plates and glasses in the cabinets shook.

  I rushed up after them, not able to stop myself from hearing more. My father was actually having an affair? Of course, the signs had all been there, but it was still insane. I felt strange and scared, like we’d entered the Twilight Zone.

  I slowed my steps on the wooden floor, trying not to make it creak as I tiptoed to their room. They were shouting on the other side of the door.

  “Claire, pay attention. You know Thornhill isn’t what it seems. They are back to the same tricks they were up to when we were in high school, only with a few more recruits to their team.”

  “You’re just jealous, plain and simple. Those days are long over. We were stupid kids.”

  “Of course I’m jealous! My sales have gone down to nothing while those crooks are raking in unnecessary money. Callie works for me, Claire. Simple as that.”

  “You didn’t need to text her twenty times a day!”

  “And you didn’t need to get involved with Phillip Rhodes again!” Hugh shouted. “He’s not your lover anymore!”

  My heart thudded hard and stopped in my chest, rushing back with a furious, fluttering beat. Phillip and my mother? I felt like I might faint. Hugh had a begrudged past with him, so I’d briefly considered it as a reason before. But I’d never really believed it was possible.

&nb
sp; “We haven’t gotten involved. When we broke up that was the end of it. I told you I never approved of what they did. That’s why I left the prayer group before it disbanded.”

  Hugh paused, and when he spoke again his voice sounded weary. “I’m through trying to convince you. You stopped listening to me a long time ago. But you will not drag our daughter into this.”

  I heard them coming out of their room, so I beat a hasty retreat back down to the dining room. I was shaking like a leaf, my insides scorching hot but my skin cold. Surely, they must be calming down now. I’d never seen them fight this intensely.

  When they came thundering back down the stairs, Hugh had a suitcase in his hand. The sight of it zapped my brain with a shock. He was serious.

  Claire was following right at his heels, her voice high-pitched and near hysterical. “You can’t leave, Hugh. What am I going to do without you here?”

  He whipped around, addressing her. She almost ran into him but put the brakes on.

  “You can do what you always do—lock yourself away. You don’t need me here to ignore me.”

  Claire’s eyes were huge and filled with emotion, though not tears. “Hugh….”

  “You and I promised that we would never get back into that again,” Hugh said sharply.

  Now a tear did slide down Claire’s cheek. Her voice was a whisper. “I gave up everything: my friends, my beliefs. It was easy for you. You didn’t have a choice.”

  He stepped back from her, peering into her face with surprise. “What does that mean?”

  Claire just gaped at him, as though she’d forgotten how to speak.

  He crossed the floor into the dining room, throwing on his coat and a baseball cap and shoving his phone back into his pocket. Claire was still standing in one spot with her shoulders slumped like a toy with dead batteries.

  I broke my stunned silence, realizing he really was going to leave. There had to be something I could do, something I could say, to stop him. I felt scared and helpless, not knowing what to do. “Dad, where are you going?”

  “I’ll go stay at the gallery for now,” he said, looking apologetically at me. “I’m sorry, Ariel. I just can’t take this anymore.” He grabbed me in a quick, hard hug. “But you’ll still see me—I’m not leaving you. I just need space from your mom for a while. You be very careful and get a hold of me, morning or night, if you need me. Understand? No matter what the reason.”