Journey's End

by Rachel Hawkins

  Nolie wasn’t sure she and her dad had the same idea of what kind of stuff was “neat.” The second floor was dim and dusty, and most of the doors were locked. The one Nolie and Bel had been able to be open was filled with stuffed animals. And not like the sheep they sold at Bel’s shop. Actual animals, stuffed and preserved, their glass eyes glittering in the gloom.

  Bel and Nolie had closed that door pretty fast.

  The third floor was better, though. There was a room with big tables covered in old maps, and another filled with different species of plants growing under glass domes. A third room held old equipment the Institute no longer used, and that’s where Bel and Nolie had decided to stay for a while.

  The room was technically two levels, with a small staircase that led up to a wide platform in front of giant floor-to-ceiling windows. There were a couple of old telescopes set up there, and Nolie jogged back up the stairs to look through one of the brass eyepieces. The lens was greasy with age and disuse, and all Nolie could see outside was gray anyway. Gray sky, gray water, gray fog. Same as yesterday.

  “Why even have a telescope pointed at the Boundary?” Nolie asked. “Does it ever change?”

  “Not really,” Bel replied. “My brother said it felt ‘funny’ yesterday, but I have no idea what that meant.”

  Nolie kept her eye pressed to the eyepiece, looking out at the waves. “Maybe I could get a job here. Keeping an eye on the fog. Today it seems gray. Yesterday it was also gray, and I’m thinking that tomorrow, there’s a good chance of gray.”

  “Partial chance of ‘more grayish than usual,’” Bel added, and Nolie nodded.

  “We are killing it at this fog watching job. They should give us at least ten pounds a week. However much that is.”

  Bel’s lips quirked up, and Nolie kept looking through the telescope, tilting it this way and that, not that she actually expected to see anything.

  “Is your dad taking the boat out today?” she asked.

  She could hear Bel sit down behind her, probably on the edge of the platform, if the drumming of her heels was any clue.

  “Not sure. Depends if anyone shows up. And Mum wanted Jaime to do some chores around the house today.”

  Straightening, Nolie glanced over at Bel. She was indeed sitting on the edge of the platform, looking down, her sandy hair sliding forward so that Nolie could just see the tip of her nose.

  “How many brothers do you have?” she asked, and Bel looked up, blinking.

  “Three. Simon’s at uni, though, so just two in the house. Jaime’s seventeen, and Jack’s five. I’m piggy in the middle.”

  That made Nolie laugh, even though the idea of having three brothers kind of blew her mind.

  “There’s just me in my family,” she told Bel. “Lone piggy, I guess.”

  Now it was Bel’s turn to laugh, and she tilted her head, looking at Nolie curiously. “Do you wish you had brothers or sisters?”

  Nolie did actually feel like a lonely piggy some of the time, but she also really liked the peace that came with knowing no one was going to come barging into her room. “Can’t really miss something you’ve never had,” she said.

  “Suppose that’s true,” Bel said, nodding.

  “Besides, it was nice, just the three of us,” Nolie added. “Like a team.”

  Now that she did miss, the three of them sitting around the dinner table, joking over pizza. The way she’d felt on long car trips, sitting in the backseat and listening to her parents chat in the front. How, when she was little, they’d each hold one of her hands and lift her up between them as they walked down the sidewalk.

  Bel leaned back and thought that over. “I think that’s how my dad and my brothers feel sometimes,” she said. “Simon and Jaime love the boat like my dad does, even if Simon is off at school now. And maybe my mum feels like that with Jack, since she’s home with him so much.” Bel shrugged. “S’pose I don’t really have a team in my family.”

  “Neither do I anymore, I guess,” Nolie said, and then felt like maybe she’d said too much, or given something away.

  She thought Bel might feel the same, because she cleared her throat and said, “Anyway, if you ever do find yourself missing out, you can come to my house. I can promise that you won’t want any siblings after that.”

  Nolie patted the cracked leather case of the telescope. “I’d like that. Going to your house, I mean.”

  Bel smiled. “So would I. We could even have a sleepover, maybe! Haven’t had one of those in ages.”

  “Awesome,” Nolie said, and she swung the telescope away from the sea, toward the other window that looked out over the cliffs.

  Nolie adjusted the focus, and after a second, she could see a massive stone building sitting on a bright green hill. “Oooh, I can see a castle!” she said. “That’s way better than fog.”

  Bel walked up next to Nolie, her boots clomping. She was wearing those greenish-brown wellies she’d had on yesterday, and Nolie wondered if people just wore them all the time.

  Nolie moved back so Bel could look.

  “That’s not a castle,” Bel said. “There used to be a castle there, but it’s all ruins now. See? Those lumps of stone?”

  She lifted her head and gestured for Nolie to take a look. Nolie did, and once again saw the giant house, which certainly looked castle-y to her, but then, Bel would be the expert. This must be the house her dad had mentioned on her first day—the “old manor house.”

  Nolie looked a little closer, and sure enough, there were mounds of gray stones littering the green hillside.

  “It was struck by lightning a really long time ago,” Bel said. “Gutted the whole place, so the family that was living there left and built that big house to live in instead.”

  “Ruins of a lightning-struck castle?” Nolie said, her eyes going wide. “Okay, yes, we are so totally checking that out. That has got to be suuuuper haunted.”

  Bel laughed again, shaking her head. “It’s just old rocks, Nolie.”

  Scoffing, Nolie looked back through the telescope. “Where is your imagination, Bel? Do you think it was struck by lightning because of a curse? Ooh, or maybe there was, like, a witch or something, trying to do a big spell and, BOOM, lightning!”

  “I think there was a storm and lightning struck the tallest building, which happened to be a castle,” Bel said.

  Nolie tilted the telescope a little so she could get a better view of the big house that was not a castle. “You sound like my dad,” she said to Bel. “Very science-y. Who lives in that big house now?”

  Bel had moved away again, and when Nolie looked up, she was standing by the window that faced the Boundary.

  “Mrs. McLeod,” she said. “Really old lady, been in Journey’s End for donkey’s years.”

  Nolie studied the back of her head. “Is that a long time?”

  Bel turned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “The longest time. It’s like she’s always been here. She hardly ever comes down to the village, though.”

  “So you’re telling me you have magic fog, a haunted ruined castle, and a creepy old lady living in a big house on a hill?” Shaking her head, Nolie gave Bel a mock-stern look. “Girl, you have been holding out on me.”

  Again, Bel just shrugged that off. “She’s not creepy; she’s just old. And no one wants to bother her, because she keeps to herself. Plus, Mum thinks she’s the ‘anonymous benefactor’ who contributes to the town fund every year, so best to keep her happy.”

  Nolie nodded and turned the telescope. “That makes sense. Guess I should stop spying on her, then.”

  Once the lens was pointed at the Boundary again, she looked back out at it. “Maybe they were keeping an eye out for people who came back. Like my new BFF, Albert.”

  She’d meant it as a joke, but a little wrinkle appeared between Bel’s brows.

  “You
didn’t see Albert,” she said.

  Nolie nodded. She’d been so sure the boy she saw on the beach was the same boy on the back wall of Bel’s family’s shop, and almost without thinking, she tilted the telescope back down toward the beach.

  She heard Bel get up, felt her come to stand by her elbow.

  “Do you see anything?” Bel whispered, and suddenly Nolie wondered if Bel was as much of an unbeliever as she’d claimed.

  “I don’t see—” Nolie started, but before she could finish, there was a flash of movement on the beach. Just a blur of dark hair and white shirt, moving over the rocks and toward the cave.

  Nolie’s heart hammered hard against her ribs, and she stepped back from the telescope, eyes wide. “Someone’s down there.”

  CHAPTER 8

  THE RAIN WAS LIGHTER AS BEL LED THE WAY BACK DOWN to the beach. She was still more than a little surprised Nolie’s dad had let them go, but when Nolie had asked to walk Bel back to her family’s shop, he’d been distracted reading something on his computer. “Try not to drown,” he’d called after them, and Nolie had laughed, even as the very word drown made Bel’s blood feel cold.

  Only people who didn’t have the sea in their veins could make jokes about a thing like that.

  Nolie was in her bright purple wellies again, and Bel’s own sensible greens nearly slid on the slick pebbles once they reached the shore. She and Nolie hadn’t talked much on their way here, but Bel got the idea that, to Nolie, this was all a bit of a laugh. Tromping down the beach to see a ghost. Nolie had grabbed a notebook out of her room—a big, airy space nothing like Bel’s little attic nook—before she’d left. It was black, covered in bright pink skulls, and when Bel glanced at it, Nolie just said, “For observations.”

  They were nearly to the caves now, Nolie almost skipping ahead, the fear she’d felt yesterday clearly gone, and Bel trudged on, curious despite herself.

  The rain had stopped altogether now, and Nolie shoved the hood of her rain slicker up as she studied the caves in front of them, tipping her head back to look up the cliff. They couldn’t see the Institute from here, but Bel knew Nolie was trying to work out her bearings. “I think it was this one?” she said, nodding at a slightly smaller cave than the one they’d gone into the day before.

  “You said he was down there yesterday,” Bel reminded Nolie, gesturing a little ways down the beach, but Nolie shook her head.

  “No, he went in this one today.”

  And with that, she stepped forward, leaving Bel no choice but to follow.

  As soon as she did, she could see why someone might choose this cave to hide in. It wasn’t as big as the other one, but it was darker, and she moved a little closer to Nolie. “It’s a prank,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I’m sure of it. We should go back.”

  Nolie turned to her, confused. “You came with me yesterday,” she reminded Bel. “I thought . . . I guess I thought you liked it?”

  Bel didn’t know how to explain that she’d only gone along because she thought Nolie would like it. And if this were some kind of stupid prank, what if it made Nolie think Bel might not be someone she wanted to be friends with after all?

  “It’s just—” she started, and then she froze.

  There was a sound from the back of the cave. A rustle, a slight intake of breath, and Bel slowly turned to see a figure standing just a few feet away.

  Nolie saw him at the same time; a little shriek escaped her lips, and both girls stood there like their feet had been glued to the ground.

  The boy stood against the back wall of the cave, a piece of driftwood held in one hand, lifted over his head. In the dim light of the cave, it was impossible to see much except that he was only a little taller than Bel herself, close to Nolie’s height. He was more a collection of shapes and shadows, and for all that Bel had teased Nolie about ghosts and monsters back here in these sea caves, she suddenly felt her throat go tight with fear.

  “Stay back!” he warned. “I’ll dash yer brains out, see if I won’t!” For all his bold words, he didn’t sound confident in his brain-dashing skills, and there was something about his voice that struck Bel as odd. He was clearly Scottish like her, but his accent was thicker, less familiar than the voices she heard every day.

  Maybe he was from Glasgow?

  “Okay, easy, dude,” Nolie said, holding her hands up in front of her. Bel was impressed with how calm she sounded, but then, Nolie was American, so maybe this wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with crazy people threatening to kill her.

  “There’s no need for anyone to dash anything,” Nolie said. “We were just looking around the caves, and we’ll go now.”

  “Ye do that,” the boy said, shaking the piece of driftwood for good measure.

  Bel tugged at Nolie’s jacket. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  They backed up together, Bel’s fingers still tight around Nolie’s sleeve, their eyes on the boy in front of them. They were nearly to the mouth of the cave when the boy moved forward—just a little bit, but enough so that the light fell on his face, and Bel could see him clearly.

  And when she did, her fingers fell from Nolie’s sleeve, suddenly feeling bloodless and numb.

  “Al?” she asked, and he moved farther into the light.

  There was no doubt in her mind that this was indeed Albert MacLeish, the boy she’d stared at on the back wall of her parents’ shop all her life. He was dressed in a dingy white shirt, a brown waistcoat over that, and brown trousers. His feet were bare and pale, which meant he had to be freezing. Bel could feel the damp through her shoes, after all. Being barefoot here would be painful, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  He frowned at her, but dropped the arm at his side a fraction, his brow wrinkling with confusion. “How do you know my name?”

  “We saw you yesterday,” Nolie said, giving Bel a look that clearly said, I told you so. “And also, you’re one of the dead people on the back wall of her family’s shop.”

  “I’m not dead!” Al insisted, his voice a bit shrill.

  “Then you’re a ghost,” Nolie said, practically bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “An actual ghost, not even on night vision or anything.” Then she stopped bouncing, studying Al with her head tilted to one side a bit. “Or maybe you’re a zombie?”

  Al was looking more and more freaked out, his gaze darting around, his hands clenching and unclenching in fists, and Bel decided it was time she stepped in.

  “The boat was yours, wasn’t it?” she asked Al, taking a hesitant step forward. “The Selkie? We found her the other day. So you must’ve used it to come back from the Boundary, which sounds mad—”

  “It is mad,” Nolie interrupted, “if we’re using that to mean ‘crazy.’ But that’s why this is all so great.”

  Through all of this, Al was very quiet, watching them. He wasn’t wielding the branch anymore, which Bel thought was a good sign.

  “What year is it?” she asked him. “I mean, what year was it when you went into the Boundary?”

  Al waited so long to answer that Bel was afraid he wouldn’t say anything at all. But then he sniffed and said, “1918.”

  Nolie blew out a long, shaky breath, and Bel felt like she’d just swallowed a whole net of butterflies. “So you are a ghost,” Bel said, and Albert stepped forward quickly, one finger pointing at her.

  “I am no—” he began, and then his words ended in a hiss of pain.

  He looked down, and Bel followed his gaze. Al had stubbed his big toe on one of the sharp rocks that littered the floor of the cave, and a bright line of red blood welled out from its tip.

  “Um. I have read a lot of books about ghosts, and while I’m not an expert, I am pretty sure they don’t bleed,” Nolie said, breaking the silence.

  “That’s fine. I’m not a ghost,” Al said, still sounding cross even as he sat down to inspect th
e cut.

  “Then I’m right and you’re a zombie, which, in my book, is actually creepier.” Nolie turned back to Bel. “Has anything like this ever happened before? Someone coming back from the Boundary?”

  There were a few spooky stories in those books that Nolie liked, saying that once a year, people who had been lost to the Boundary could come back to walk the beaches at night, things like that. Just scary tales for the tourists, nothing real.

  “It’s impossible,” Bel said. “People don’t . . . not-grow-up for a hundred years.”

  “A hundred years?”

  They looked back to the rock where Al was sitting, and now he was staring at them, dark eyes wide. “That’s how long I’ve been gone?”

  Bel’s mouth felt dry, and she realized she had no idea what to say to him. How would it feel to come back to a world where everyone you knew was long dead? Your friends? Your family? But no, he couldn’t be over a hundred years old, because that was impossible, and Bel McKissick did not believe in impossible things.

  But she didn’t have to say anything, because Al suddenly shot to his feet, and with a scrabble of pebbles and something like a sob, ran off into the darkness.

  CHAPTER 9

  NOLIE STARED AT THE SPOT WHERE THE BOY HAD DISAPPEARED, then stepped toward the back of the cave.

  Bel caught her sleeve and tugged slightly. “Let him go,” she said. “If we follow, he might rethink bashing our brains out.”

  Nolie stopped, looking in the direction where Albert had gone. “But I didn’t even write anything down in my notebook!” she argued. “And besides, he’s not that big. Plus, if he isn’t a ghost, he’s like a hundred and something years old. I bet we could take him.”

  That made Bel laugh, even though Nolie hadn’t really been joking. That kid looked like he weighed as much as a third grader, all skinny arms and legs, and Nolie hadn’t taken tae kwon do for nothing.