by Kate Brian
“Rory! Oh my god! Rory!”
I pushed her tangled hair back from her face, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Are you okay?” I whispered. “What did he do to you?”
She shook her head. There was dirt all over her pink tank top and blood on her shoulder, but otherwise she looked okay. Terrified, but okay.
“Nothing. He said he wanted you,” she sobbed. “He said we were just waiting for you.”
“Where is he?” I asked, shaking as my eyes darted around the small room. There was a tiny wooden table with two broken chairs around it. A hot pot sat on the floor in the corner, and there was a blue couch by the wall with a huge hole torn into the back of it. Slowly, Darcy’s eyes shifted to the right. I started to turn, just as Steven Nell emerged from behind the open door. He grabbed Darcy’s arm and yanked her out of my grasp, flinging her outside like a rag doll. She was still screaming when the door slammed in her face.
And suddenly I was alone with my worst nightmare.
“Hello, Rory,” he said, a thin smile creeping across his lips. “I knew you’d come to me.”
He tipped his head to the side, looking me up and down with a covetous, hungry expression. All at once I wanted to rush him, wanted to tackle him, wanted to pummel him into oblivion.
“I was going to have your sister, but then I thought that wouldn’t be fair to either of us,” he said, making my skin crawl. “You were always the one I wanted, Rory. Only you. The unsung star.”
He took a step toward me and reached out his hand. I flinched as he stroked my hair with the back of his fingers.
“Let’s finish what we started, shall we?”
With that, he lunged at me and turned me around, locking his arm around my neck. I was about to scream when an excruciating, piercing, burning pain sliced right through my gut. At that exact moment, Nell screamed and released me, staggering back against the wall and sinking to the ground, but I was in so much pain I was barely aware of him. I doubled over, gagging, coughing, wheezing for air. My hands flew out, but my face still collided with the wood floor. Suddenly, the door flew open, and Darcy’s knees hit the ground next to me.
“Rory? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Darcy was on top of me, shaking me. The pain was so horrible the images in front of me bent and swayed. I turned my face slowly, my nose scraping against the splintery wood planks, and looked toward the wall.
Steven Nell was writhing on the floor as well. Screaming. Begging for mercy.
“What is it?” Darcy asked me desperately. “What’s wrong?”
I coughed and closed my eyes. I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted the pain to stop.
And then, Darcy was gone. I heard her screeching, but someone had pulled her away. A hand touched the back of my neck, and a warm, comforting hum filled my body. Slowly, the pain began to subside. It cooled to a dull throb. I tried for a breath, and sweet oxygen filled my lungs.
“It’s okay,” Tristan whispered in my ear. “You’re okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I opened my eyes. The world slowly slipped back into focus. Carefully, I sat up, Tristan’s fingers still cupping the back of my neck. He sat down in front of me, our legs crooked to the side, and looked me in the eye.
“Breathe,” he said. “Breathe.”
So I did. Over his shoulder, I saw Kevin and Fisher dragging Steven Nell off the ground as he squirmed and screamed between them. Together, they moved for the door, but Nell staggered sideways, his knees giving way as he spit and sobbed and flailed. Somehow they managed to get him outside. Managed to drag him away.
“Look at me,” Tristan ordered. “Rory. Look at me.”
I did as I was told. I looked into Tristan’s eyes.
“You’re ready,” he said, breathless. “You’re ready now.”
“Ready for what?”
But even as I said the words, it was happening again. A pinprick of emptiness began inside my chest and widened, widened, widened to engulf me. I reached out and clung to Tristan’s arms as I felt myself start to slide backward, start to lose gravity and form, start to slip. Panic took hold of my every pore, squeezing out the air, blacking out the sky overhead.
But no, that was just the fog. Just the fog closing in.
“Look at me, Rory,” he said firmly. “Trust me.”
His eyes were so blue. The color so real, so true, so beautiful.
“I can’t, Tristan,” I heard myself whimper, squeezing my eyes closed.
“Yes, you can. It’s time,” he told me, holding on to me. “You can do it, Rory. It’s okay. Just. Let. Go.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. Suddenly, images came rushing in on me. My mother pushing me on the swing in our backyard. My dad blowing out birthday candles in our old kitchen, before Mom remodeled it. Darcy laughing at me over her shoulder as I chased her in a game of tag. The turtle I’d had for three weeks in fifth grade. The first science award I’d ever won, being hung around my neck. My mother in bed, so fragile and small, squeezing my hand and saying good-bye. Taking third place at regionals last year. Winning the ribbon at the science fair and Samir’s grouchy face as he looked on. Christopher kissing me in his bedroom. Steven Nell grabbing me in the woods. Messenger telling us we had to go.
And then my father splayed out on the road. Darcy’s head bashed in. The blood, the tears, the scream. The slice of a knife.
I opened my eyes, and the world slammed into focus. Tristan’s fingers were tight around my arms, his eyes locked on mine, the fog growing thicker around us. And just like that I understood.
“Rory?” Darcy called out, breaking away from Joaquin. She fell on the floor next to me and grabbed my hand. “Are you okay?”
I cleared my throat, still looking at Tristan. There were tears in his eyes as he studied my face.
Darcy hugged me, breaking off the contact between me and Tristan, and I hugged her back as hard as I possibly could, not wanting to ever let go.
Outside, Steven Nell shouted one continuous, keening wail, as Kevin and Fisher lifted him like a rag doll and tossed him into the back of Joaquin’s truck with a bang. Tristan rose to his feet. He helped me up, and Darcy supported my right side as together the three of us walked outside. Krista hovered near the door of the cabin with Joaquin and Lauren while Nell banged around in the bed of the truck, making enough noise to wake the dead.
“Take him,” Tristan said to Krista.
She nodded, jogged over to the truck, and got in behind the wheel, alone. The guys stood back as she slammed the transmission into gear with authority and took off toward the bridge, kicking up sand as she went. The truck was about half a mile away when the fog suddenly enveloped the taillights, and abruptly, the screaming stopped.
It was still dark out when we arrived back at the house. My senses were heightened. I felt every thud of my heart. Smelled each note of the flowery air. Everything looked different to me. The ocean water was too perfect. The flowering trees seemed fake. It was all like something off a movie set.
“I’m too wired to sleep,” Darcy said as we approached the front door. “Let’s go out back.”
We walked around the side of the house and up to the deck, where we sat for a long time, watching the waves roll onto shore. With every crash of the surf, my heart felt heavier and heavier. I had ten million questions, but there was no one here to ask.
“I’m so sorry,” Darcy said suddenly.
“For what?” I asked. She had nothing to be sorry for. If I had my way, she’d never feel bad about anything ever again.
“For not believing you. For fighting with you. For being such a bitch these last few months,” she said, looking down at the dirt under her fingernails. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Christopher’s the jerk.”
She laughed bitterly and sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. There was a streak of mud on her face, and her hair was a mess of tangles.
I’d never thought of it that way, but he kind of was. No matter how much I liked him, no
matter how much he liked me, what kind of guy broke up with a girl then kissed her sister that afternoon? I turned and looked at her. “You’re right.”
Darcy and I both laughed. “Too bad we can’t call him up and tell him,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop one. “Maybe when we get home.”
My heart thumped, and tears filled my eyes. I looked away, toward the water, not wanting her to see.
“I’m sorry I kissed him,” I said, biting my lip. “I’m sorry I took that stupid shortcut and got us sent here.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against a flood of emotion and pressed the tears back.
“Rory,” Darcy said firmly, reaching for my hand, “it’s not your fault that psycho attacked you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, unable to form a word.
“And you know what? Aside from the terrifying kidnapping by a serial killer, I kind of like it here,” she added.
I swallowed back the ball that had formed in my throat and nodded. “Yeah, Juniper Landing is okay.”
Darcy yawned hugely and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m starting to crash. I think I’ll go take a shower and go to bed.”
“Maybe you should wake up Dad first and tell him you’re okay,” I said.
“Good point,” Darcy said with a laugh, shaking her head. She started to go but paused near the door. “What do you think the cops will do with Mr. Nell? Do they even have a jail on this island?”
Probably not, I thought. I looked at her, feeling conflicted. It was almost sad, how she knew nothing. But I also envied her.
“I’m sure they’ll turn him right over to the FBI,” I said.
She nodded, accepting this. “Good. Then his ass will be out of here for good.”
“Yep. I think that’s the idea.”
“Good night, Rory,” she said.
“Good night.”
Then she turned and walked inside. I sat back on the cushions and stared across the endless ocean. When I was little, I used to watch the waves and imagine I could see all the way across to the foreign lands on the other side of the world. I’d imagine visiting all these exotic places one day and standing on their beaches staring back at the spot where I’d once stood. Now I wondered what was actually out there. Did it go on forever, or did it end somewhere? I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the breeze and hugged myself as tight as I could.
“Rory?”
I whirled around, nearly jumping out of my skin. Aaron was tiptoeing around the side of the house, looking up at the deck.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, leaping to my feet. “It’s three o’clock in the morning!”
“I know!” he said, looking up. “I couldn’t sleep. Did you find your sister?”
My heart thumped extra hard. He was so sweet, unable to sleep because of me. Such a good person. A person who didn’t deserve this. I felt a fresh wave of tears and shook my head at myself. Was everything going to make me cry from here on out?
“Yeah. She’s back,” I said simply.
His smile nearly broke my heart. “That’s great! Can I come up?”
Part of me wanted to say yes. Wanted to hang out with him and chat and feel that sort of comfortable, safe, uncomplicated feeling I had when I was around him. But I couldn’t just hang out. Not now. Not when I was feeling so raw.
“I’m really tired, actually,” I told him. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
Aaron had already made a move for the stairs and stopped in his tracks. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him.
Hopefully, I thought.
“But thanks,” I added. “For coming to check on me.”
“Anytime,” he said with a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
He lifted his hand in a wave, then turned and walked back toward the street. I watched him until he dipped out of sight, morosely wondering if I’d ever see him again. Wondering if by tomorrow Darcy would have forgotten who he was.
After a while, I walked down the steps and out onto the beach, sitting down in the cold, freshly smoothed sand. Dawn was rapidly approaching, and I wanted to watch the sun come up. It was something my mother, Darcy, and I used to do together when we were little, down in Ocean City. She’d wake us up when it was still dark out and cuddle me into my stroller, then carry Darcy down to the water while she pushed me ahead of them. I’d doze off on the way, but she’d always wake me just when the sky began to turn pink. Then we’d both crawl into her lap and nestle there as we watched the first light creep toward us over the water and up the beach. Watched the gift of a new day opening at our feet.
That’s what she’d always called it. A gift. I’d never realized how right she was until now.
Had my mother ever been to Juniper Landing? Had she ever watched this particular sunrise?
I took a deep breath and let it out. A tickle skittered down my spine as I felt Tristan approaching. His feet stepped up next to me in the sand.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
I shook my head and hugged my knees to my chest. “Not yet.”
He dropped down next to me, pulling his legs up to his chin. I listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing and stared down at his leather bracelet, his hand pressed into the sand near my hip.
“Is he gone?” I asked after a while. “Steven Nell. Is he really gone?”
“Oh, he’s gone,” Tristan said, lifting his chin a bit as the first haze of pink appeared on the horizon.
“What about Olive?” I asked. “And the singer from the park?”
“They’ve…moved on,” Tristan said carefully.
“And the guy with the hat?” I asked.
“Him, too.” He didn’t even pause. He knew exactly who I was talking about.
“So when Mrs. Chen said Olive had sent for her stuff…”
“That was a lie,” Tristan said frankly. “Krista messed up. It happens. Rarely, but it does. Of course, usually there’s no one checking up on the visitors so…you made things a little more complex.”
No one checking up. That’s why Darcy forgot her. Why Aaron forgot her. Why the locals remembered her. It made it simpler. But then, why did I remember?
“She was still there that day, when you came by with Aaron,” he said. “Joaquin went over there with her, and they were almost done cleaning out her stuff when you got there, but Krista was still in the room. She told me she hid in the closet until you left.”
I knew it. I knew someone was in there.
I turned in the sand to face him, and he turned to face me. I crossed my legs just like his, and our knees touched.
“I need you to say it, Tristan,” I said, my voice cracking. “Just tell me. Just say it out loud. Is this what I think it is? Am I…?”
I couldn’t make myself utter the word that clung to the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t force it out. It was too unbelievable. Too surreal. Too wrong.
Tristan reached for one hand, then the other. He held them both between us, his fingers warm like the sun that was now bursting forth from the horizon.
“I’m so sorry, Rory, but yes, it’s exactly what you think,” he said. “You, your sister, your father…all of us here on the island…we’re all dead.”
This book would not have come to fruition without the endless hard work and patience of the dream team: Lanie Davis, Emily Meehan, Sara Shandler, Josh Bank, and Sarah Burnes. It’s been a crazy ride, and it’s only just begun!
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