After You Died

by Dea Poirier

  It’s clear by the smirk that creeps across his face, he’s in. “Pretty risky. But you’re right, that’s where they’d keep the maps. They’re probably all marked up from searches, but they’ll still serve the purpose.” He walks toward the window and searches behind the frame until he dislodges a pack of cigarettes. He holds one out for me, and I take it.

  “I’m in.” He jumps off the porch.

  “You sure?” I jump off after him.

  “I don’t have anything better to do.” He shrugs and takes a drag off his cig.

  The darkness is thick around us as we sneak across the campus, we hide behind the trees and building as we work our way to the office. There’s no reason for it though, no one’s out here but us. The guards don’t bother patrolling, they don’t care if we escape—after all, they love the chase.

  The lights are still on in the office, but no one is home. The building is sealed up tight, doors and windows locked. I sigh, defeated, when we can’t find a way in. Sayid just laughs.

  “Like that’s going to keep us out.” He disappears around the building and comes back with a handful of shiny metal rods.

  “Where’d you get those?” I ask.

  “Ash, I’ve got stuff you’ve never imagined squirreled away all over this place.” He smiles and bends down to peek into the keyhole. He digs away with the metal rods.

  “Why?” It seems weird he’d spend so much time hiding things around the school.

  “You never know when it will come in handy.” He flashes me a wicked smile. “I’ve got lock picks, matches, cigarettes, drugs, weapons. Don’t tell anyone, you’re the only one who knows about my hiding spots.” He winks at me.

  “Really, you’ve never told the other guys?” Seems weird he’d have chosen to tell me. He’s trusted me with other secrets, but the caches he relies on seem like a bigger deal.

  “Nope.” He smiles for a moment, then turns to me. “Want me to teach you?”

  I don’t know when, or why, I’d ever need to pick a lock, but I do want to learn.

  “Yeah,” I say as I close the distance between us.

  Sayid grabs my arm and yanks me closer. He kneels down next to the door, and tugs on my shirt. I take my position next to him, and watch eagerly as he raises the tools.

  “You slip in this first,” he says as he holds up a bent metal rod. “Then you take this,” he brandishes an L-shaped metal tool. “And slip that into the top of the lock to turn it.” He shows me how to slip the tools in, but doesn’t turn them. “Then, you’re going to run the first tool up, toward the top of the handle as you try to dislodge the tumblers. It takes a bit, but eventually you’ll be able to feel each of them click in and out of place.”

  Sayid pulls on my arm, and I edge closer to him. The heat builds between us, and I can’t concentrate on the lock, or how to pick it. All I can think about is how good he smells, and how much I want his lips on my neck.

  Stop it. Focus.

  I press my lips together, and realize that Sayid is watching me. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard. He pushes the tools toward me, and I try to follow the same motions that he showed me. But my hands shake each time I try. My nerves are raw. Sweat blooms on my palms and makes it difficult to grip the metal.

  “I don’t feel the tumblers,” I say as I run the metal rod upward like Sayid showed me.

  Sayid stands up and positions himself behind me. His chest presses to my back, and his arm wraps around mine. My breath catches. I close my eyes as I swallow down my desire. His hand meets mine, and he pulls it upward.

  “Feel that?”

  I feel something.

  “No,” I say as he guides my hand. All I feel is the tool grinding against the lock.

  He pulls my hand upward, and I feel something click. “How about now?”

  “Yeah, I felt that,” I say as we guide the rod against the other tumblers.

  “Now, turn,” he says as he twists my hand.

  As he says it, there’s a click, and the door swings in. Happiness rushes through me. I never imagined I’d be able to pick a lock. I hand the tools back over to Sayid, and he stashes them away. Once he’s moved away, I feel his absence. But I push the feelings from my mind. There are more important things at hand.

  We both slide into the room, quiet as housecats. I pull the door shut behind me and lock it. Once inside, I begin to go through each of the desk drawers. I make Sayid a nice stack of cigarettes as I find at least one pack in each desk I search. No matter where I look, I don’t find a map. I don’t find anything that will help us once we get away from Dozier. We won’t be able to use cigarettes as currency in the real world.

  There are so many knots in my stomach my guts might be a noose. We have to find Eden. And there’s only one other way to figure out where the Drew Mansion is. My father would know. I walk to the nearest desk, and grab the phone, and dial the number to my house. It takes a few seconds for the phone to ring. Each time the ringer drops, I hold my breath, waiting to hear her voice. She doesn’t answer. Of course she doesn’t, she can’t. But my dad doesn’t pick up either.

  Is it just me left?

  “We have to go,” Sayid rushes toward me, and grabs my arm.

  I’m barely able to hang up the phone before the door opens. Sayid dives behind the desk, and yanks me down with him. Heavy footsteps fall feet from the desk. Aware how loud my breaths are, I clamp my hand over my mouth. My heartbeats are louder than thunder, whoever that is, they might be able to hear it.

  The longest seconds of my life tick by before I hear movement again. The footsteps grow closer. I push my back against the desk, like I might be able to disappear into the cold metal. They’re so close now, I can see the blue jeans peeking out around the side of the desk.

  They walk in front of the desk, back toward us, but I can’t see enough to tell who it is. I’m not even sure if it’s a student or a guard. They move out of view, doors open and close around us. By the time I hear the front door hiss as it opens, I’m about to burst from the tension welled up inside me.

  I shift, about to make my escape, but Sayid grabs my arm again. Settling back down beside him, I look at him, but don’t dare speak. He holds his finger to his lips. Then gestures toward the door, I understand his meaning right away. Whoever it was, they haven’t left yet. They’re toying with us, trying to draw us out.

  We sit together, huddled under the desk, less than a breath apart. The lights switch off, the door opens, and we hear the metal grind as the door locks. I don’t dare move, or breathe, until Sayid does.

  “That was too close,” he whispers.

  I nod, still too on edge to speak.

  “Do you smell that?” he asks as he sniffs the air.

  I take a deep breath in through my nose. “Smoke?”

  Sayid moves and springs up from the floor. I narrowly avoid hitting my head as I stand. A carpet of smoke creeps across the floor, its fingers drag along the fibers as it stretches out from the fire. Flames lick the windows. My throat tightens as the smoke billows around us. Heat fills the room, sweat clings to my skin, and though I try to breathe it feels like all the air has gone out of the room.

  “Fuck,” I say. Between us and the door, a wall of flames grows. There’s no way out.

  “That sick fuck set the building on fire,” Sayid growls, anger flashes across his face in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s furious, powerful, and makes me shrink back.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Dominic.” He flashes me a look that makes my heart sink. Guilt eats away at me. It’s my fault we’re here, it’s my fault were in this position. My stupidity might get us both killed.

  He deserves better than you. He deserves someone who won’t get him killed.

  “Is there another way out?” I ask, but I’m sure there isn’t.

  “There’s a window in the back room, but we have to hurry, before anyone sees us. If they think we set the fire, we’re dead.” He looks back at me for a moment. I swallow and open my mouth
to speak, but he shakes his head at me. Smoke rises higher, my lungs burn. The air boils as the flames eat away at the building. Sparks and pops echo as the fire consumes the file cabinets. Sayid grabs my hand and leads me, it’s nearly impossible to see through the smoke. He lets go of my hand long enough to throw a chair through a back window. I urge him out first, then follow.

  “We need to hide,” he says. “We’re going to have to leave, if they notice we’re out of bed...” He starts to jog toward the orange trees.

  “The stables, we can hide in the loft. The dogs won’t be able to smell us over the horses,” I offer. Eventually, they’ll check the stables. But we might get a day or two. My eyes scan the trees, the buildings around us, anywhere Dominic might hide. I don’t see him, but I know he’s out there somewhere, watching.

  Once inside the safety of the orange trees, we look back. The flames scorch the sky and send a spiral of gray smoke high into the air. A crowd grows around the office. The gathering makes me nervous. I grab Sayid’s hand and urge him to follow me. I look to Ginger’s stall and she shakes her head at me. Her tail flicks as she cocks her head. But I can’t give her the attention she wants right now.

  I grab a few handfuls of dried hay, and layer it around the edge of the loft. If anyone steps up here, we’ll have a heads up. We work our way through the labyrinth of hay and reach my nook at the back. Here I’ve got some books, blankets, and food stashed. The only thing I keep forgetting to add is clothes.

  I sit on the blankets and pull my knees to my chest. Sayid sits next to me. In the distance, we can hear a fire engine, the rush of water, a sea of voices. My heart still pounds, nerves raw, on edge. I can hardly sit still. Nothing feels real anymore, like I’m living in a dream, or nightmare.

  “We have to leave tonight,” he says.

  “I know. Even after we find Eden, we can’t come back here,” I say as I look at him. “Where will we go?”

  “I’m sure we can find somewhere better than here.” He grins, like he knows something I don’t.

  He turns toward me, my head turns automatically. I open my mouth, before I can speak he presses his lips to mine. When he pulls away, I realize I’ve been holding my breath.

  I close the distance between us. I kiss him slowly at first. Sayid’s hand moves up my back, as he tugs at my shirt. I pull it over my head, and he sheds his own. His full lips press against mine, I feel the weight of him, his hunger as he kisses me back. With my palm against his chest, I feel the insistent thump, thump, thump of his heart. The rapid pace matches my own. Long black locks of his hair brush against my neck, he kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck.

  I don’t care that I don’t deserve him or that he can do better. All I care about is in this moment he wants me, and the only thing that I want is him.

  I pull Sayid on top of me and breathe him in like air. The comfort of his smell washes over me, cigarettes and laundry soap. Dirty and clean at the same time. He presses himself against me, and I feel his excitement. My hands hover on his waist, part of me is too scared to venture further. He pulls away, as if he can feel my hesitation.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, his words breathy and rushed.

  I nod, and lean my forehead against his. My heart flutters as my eyes meet his. “Just nervous.”

  He grins slyly. “There’s no reason to be,” he says as he brings his hand to my cheek.

  Though my thoughts are bathed with desire, longing, the reminder of my complete lack of experience nags at the back of my mind. His eyes are locked on mine as he moves his hand lower. My body responds as Sayid unbuttons my pants. As he pulls them down, I kick them to the side. He takes me into his hand, and my eyes close, a groan slips from my lips. His lips brush mine for just a moment before he whispers, “I love you, Asher.”

  Before

  Date Unknown

  I leave the girls together, I have get rid of the dagger and to make it back to the house before Dominic returns. Weaving through the streets, I drop the dagger at Alaric’s doorstep after only one knock. It’s all the time I can spare. If Dominic knows I was missing, even for a moment, the plan won’t work. Before I slide in, I scan the basement to be sure he’s nowhere to be found. Once I’m sure it’s empty, I climb through and sit back in the chair. My heart hammers as I work to secure the rope around my body again.

  With my back to the stairs, anxiety grips me. I’m always jumpy toward the end, even though I know what to expect, even though I know what’s coming.

  After what feels like an eternity the lock on the door clicks. It flies open and rattles on its hinges. I want to turn to see if he’s got someone with him, but the tell-tale sound of dragging lets me know he does.

  “Could you take any longer?” I ask him, making it sound as if this is simply the biggest inconvenience there is.

  “Do you ever shut up?” he snaps at me.

  Behind me, I hear him drop something. A few seconds later, he drops something else. No. Two bodies.

  “Someone thought I was stupid again,” he growls. “Someone thought I wouldn’t figure out they were trying to trick me.”

  A lump forms in my throat. No.

  Her strangled moan slips out behind me.

  No. He wasn’t supposed to get her.

  I try to look back, but I can’t see with the way I’m tied. Dominic draws a circle around us, and squirts a liquid at our feet. In seconds, flames lick my feet.

  No this can’t happen. She needs to stay here. She needs to research. Otherwise this will happen again and again.

  Dominic grasps the beaker from the table in the corner of the room. He takes a deep breath and throws it toward us. As the glass shatters the air around us glows a sparkling blue.

  The flames rise and the pain turns to agony as they consume us. Dominic takes out a sheet of paper, unfolds it, and dangles a crystal above it.

  As the world goes up in flames around us, all I hear is the word, “Florida.”

  After

  The spot beside me where Sayid slept is still warm when I wake up. For the first time in months, Olivia didn’t haunt me in my dreams. I feel settled, grounded. My head, my thoughts, are alarmingly clear as I stare at where he slept. For a few minutes, my hand hovers there, his lingering warmth spreading into my fingertips. The weight of sleep lifts from my mind and I pull myself from the floor. I reach for the pack of cigs beside me, and light one. I take a long drag, and stretch as I stand up. Slowly, I work my way between the rows and rows of hay bales, there’s no sign of Sayid.

  Night blankets Dozier as I venture out of the stables. I cut across the orange trees and creep into Madison. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest when I find someone sitting in the living room. Relief washes over me when I realize it’s Brandon.

  “Hey,” I say as I nod.

  He raises an eyebrow when he looks at me. “I thought you died.”

  I’d forgotten that everyone thinks I disappeared, ran away, or died—the rumors seem to shift moment to moment from what I hear. “Nope, still here,” I confirm. “Have you seen Sayid?” My eyes move to the stairs and I hope that he’ll walk down.

  He shakes his head. “If he’s not upstairs, check the laundry, he might have gotten a late shipment.”

  “Thanks,” I call back to him as I walk up the stairs.

  Our room is silent, still. His bed doesn’t look slept in. I doubt he came back here at all. I head back down the stairs. Before checking the laundry, I decide to check Dominic’s cottage.

  I scour each window of Washington, darkness welcomes me. The newer wood of the deck doesn’t bow beneath my feet, like it does at Madison. I try the handle and find it locked. I search the nooks around the windows, I find three packs of cigarettes, a baggie of pills, a bundle of naked pictures, and a box of matches before I find a lock pick set.

  I put everything back, minus a pack of cigarettes and the lock picks. My hands are shaking as I stick the bent metal rod into the keyhole. I pull the metal rod upwards, hearing it click against the tumblers. The la
st time I did this, Sayid held my hands steady. He guided me. Again and again I drag the metal across the tumblers, each time the knob won’t give.

  Digging through the kit, I grab another pick, slide it into place and start to glide the metal against the tumblers again. This time, I turn the pick ever so slightly to the left, the handle begins to turn. I hold my breath, my silent prayer, my hope. The door opens, I exhale. Creaking inward the door reveals a familiar layout, a twin of Madison.

  I creep up the stairs and slide between the beds looking for Dominic. He’s not in any of them. In the last room, once I reach the door, I see the empty bed. In that moment, in a flicker of weakness, I imagine the worst. Olivia’s bloody body with my mother, Eden and Sayid lying next to her.

  Leaping off the porch, I loop around toward the back, he has to be around here somewhere. The most obvious places need to come off the list first. The rows of orange trees are empty, three boys are hiding out in the laundry drinking, the way they’re stumbling around, I don’t even bother to ask about Dom.

  From the front of the stables I see something moving at the edge of the corn field. Something being dragged.

  I run closer, until my heart drowns out my thoughts, and my stomach knots. That’s when I see it’s Sayid. He’s unconscious. I weave in and out of the corn, the rows are staggered, planted by lazy students. Sayid is being dragged with impossible speed, I have to jog to stay within sight.

  Deep within the maze, Sayid stops moving. His limp body slumps to the side, like an abandoned toy. I hear a crack behind me. There’s a rush, pain, then darkness.

  Before

  January 7th, 1968

  I stand at the top of the stairs with my arm wrapped tightly around Olivia. Dry heaves wrack her body. Between heaves, her body trembles. Her skin is slick with sweat. The smell of the bodies in the basement lingers in my nose, my mouth, my throat. Their empty eyes squeezed into their bloated faces, I still feel them on me.