The Reaping

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





Panic began to rise inside me. I couldn’t let Leah kill her parents. The one thing I knew for sure was that I had to get Leah out of there before something terrible happened.

I had the element of surprise on my side when I bent and rammed my shoulder into Leah’s stomach. Reflexively, she let go of my arm and doubled-over on a grunt. When she did, I wrapped one arm around her legs and lifted, pitching her over my shoulder. I took her right hand in my left and had her fairly subdued in a fireman’s carry. Luckily, Leah was a lot smaller than me, so I was able to get her out of the house before she started to struggle too much.

Moving as quickly as I could, I rounded the garage and set Leah on her feet, pushing her up against the siding. “Leah! Get a hold of yourself. Those are your parents!”

Leah wasn’t even looking at me. She had turned her head toward the front of the house and her nose was wiggling again like she was sniffing.

I pulled my hand back and slapped her as hard as I could. “Stop that!”

Leah’s eyes met mine and, for an instant, there was murder in their depths. At least it wasn’t that animalistic hungry look, though. I considered that progress.

“Leah, please! Snap out of it,” I pled.

She closed her eyes as if she was concentrating, though she huffed and panted a little more. When she opened them again, I could see my Leah surfacing in the chocolate depths.

“Come on, let’s get you back to my house,” I said, putting my arm across her shoulders, a very pal-like gesture, but one meant to ensure that I had some control over her if she decided to bolt.

Leah said nothing. And, though she nodded in agreement, my anxiety was only marginally eased.

I decided that we’d have less chance of being seen if we traveled to my house using back yards instead of the sidewalk so Leah and I took off around the back of the house.

We darted behind fire pits and barbecues, decks and trees, anything that we could hide behind as we went. I’d never thought to be pleased that none of our neighbors had fences or pools, but today I was.

When we were two houses away, in Mr. Vanderpool’s yard, his dog, Bodie, leapt out of his doghouse and started barking. I started shushing him, trying to calm him, my concentration on his noise level rather than on Leah. That few-second lapse was a huge mistake.

She moved so quickly it was over before I really knew what happened. Bodie was lying on his side, behind his doghouse, whimpering quietly as Leah fed from his neck. I couldn’t see any of her face; it was buried deep in his fur. I was so appalled and so taken aback, I just stood there watching for the longest time before it occurred to me to try and stop her.

Finally, I jerked into action, grabbing Leah by her shoulders and pulling as hard as I could. Nothing would dislodge her from the dog’s throat, though. Her control was complete. “Leah,” I whispered, my voice a little shaky. “Leah, please stop. We’ve got to go.”

I could hear wet slopping sounds that made my stomach roll and saliva pour into my mouth. I liked dogs, but not that much.

“Leah, please.”

I tugged again and this time she released her hold on the dog. When she looked up at me, her face was covered in blood and blood spatter from her nose down. There were even a few specks dotting as far up as her forehead.

Her expression was strangely blank. I really don’t think she had any idea at that moment who I was. I think the only reason she stopped was because she was finished feeding.

I grabbed her arm and pulled. Mechanically, Leah got up and followed me.

By the time I got her home, Leah was coherent. And very upset. She ran straight into my bathroom and slammed the door behind her. I could hear her retching, but it didn’t sound as if anything was coming back up. I heard the water run and some splashing sounds. Finally, the door opened and one very subdued Leah emerged. Her face was shiny and clean, but her eyes were dull and burdened and a little teary.

She walked to the bed and perched on the edge, her shoulders slumped in dejection.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she said, her voice wavering. “I love animals, especially dogs.” Though her head was lowered as she picked at her fingernails nervously, I could see that her chin was trembling with suppressed emotion.

I sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder. “Leah, don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s going to take time for you to learn how to control this, to manage it. I mean, it’s not like you set out to do it,” I said, hoping to encourage her. “Look at it this way, at least you didn’t hurt somebody, like your mom or dad. Or me.” I smiled then bumped her shoulder playfully. “Especially not me.” I saw her lips twitch in a weak smile and I took that as a good sign.

Leah fell back on the bed and pulled a pillow over her face. She lay like that for several minutes. I debated leaving her to herself for a while, but then she spoke. Her words were muffled by the pillow.

“What? I couldn’t understand you.”

Leah lifted the pillow just enough to clear her mouth so I could hear her. “I said, ‘Why don’t you smell like that’?”

“Like what?”

“Like that? They smelled so delicious, my parents. Even the dog smelled good,” she complained.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a chemistry thing.”

“Maybe,” she said doubtfully. She flung the pillow off and sat up, her brows pulled together in a tight little frown. She bit her lip pensively. “You smell more…I don’t know. Maybe it’s less, less…fresh and juicy, like you’re not quite…I don’t know.” She watched me thoughtfully, unable to articulate what she was sensing.

“Alive?”

She mulled that word for a while, looking at me as if she was trying to see deep inside my cells. “Maybe, but how could that be?”

“It’s a long story,” I said vaguely.

“And we’ve got,” Leah looked down at her watch then back at me, “eight days until school’s back in. I’m all ears,” she declared, her smile a little stronger and more genuine. She needed a distraction from her worries and she saw one in hearing about my worries.

I deliberated for a moment. Having held my secrets so close for so long, the thought of confiding in someone felt strange. But then I realized that Leah had nearly as much going on as I did, only with more to lose. If there was anyone I could trust to keep my confidences at this point, it would undoubtedly be her. “I’ll tell you all about it after you call your parents. Deal?”

With a nod, Leah hopped off the bed and agreed. “Deal.” She walked past me and a minute later I heard her end of the conversation with her parents.

When she returned, Leah and I sat on the bed and I told her the whole story, beginning with the accident that revealed my shiny layer of skin and ending with me tackling Grey as she attempted to reap Leah for Fahl.

“I guess I owe you, well, my life then, don’t I?”

“Look at it as a second chance, one that you have to make the best of.” I thought of my father drowning right before my eyes. “Trust me, I don’t think you want to spend eternity in Hell or the Darkness.”

Later that night, as Leah and I sat on the couch watching a Christmas movie, I felt lighter, better for having shared my troubles with someone. I guess misery really does love company and Leah and I were quite the pair. Talk about your odd couples!

The relative tranquility of the evening was short-lived, however, when a young blonde girl appeared in my living room floor. She was walking backward, talking and gesturing to someone I couldn’t see.

I glanced at Leah to see if she had noticed her, but she was still watching television.

“Leah, can you see that?”

Leah looked around curiously. “See what?”

I guess that was my answer.

As I watched, the girl pulled a sweater she was wearing over her head, leaving her in only a camisole, and then she lay back on a bed that suddenly appeared beneath her. That’s when I saw a boy’s dark head come into the picture. He picked up her leg and began kissing at her ankle, working his way up her slim leg and pushing her skirt up as he went. He stopped and paid particular attention to a geometric tattoo that graced the outside of her knee, rubbing it with his thumb then flicking his tongue over it.

When he continued his ascent, I looked away, embarrassed for watching them. My eyes met Leah’s. She was eyeing me suspiciously.

“What are you looking at?”

“There’s a girl right there,” I said, pointing to where the couple lay, but keeping my eyes averted and trained on Leah.

“I don’t see anyone.”

“Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes in that way that says duh. “I guess this is one of those weird visions,” I explained. Then it hit me. The other two visions had been centered around someone’s death, or imminent death in Leah’s case. If that held true here, maybe if I watched closely enough, I could find out who and where the couple was so that I could intervene, like I did with Leah.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know.”

With heated cheeks, I turned my gaze back to the couple. I squashed the urge to look away and give them privacy as they fooled around.

At one point, the couple was kissing passionately and I thought of Derek, remembering the pleasure we’d shared. Shaking my head as if shaking off the memories, I concentrated on the couple, dissecting them and their surroundings, waiting for some clue as to their location and/or identity.

I watched as the boy slid his hand beneath one of her spaghetti straps. She tore her mouth from his. “Nathan, that’s too far. I told you I’m not ready for that yet,” she said.

Nathan! At least I had that to go on.

Not taking her protest seriously, Nathan responded, “You knew you were playing with fire.” Breathing heavily, he began kissing her neck, his hand trailing down over her breast to the bottom of her shirt. He pushed the thin material up high on the girl’s ribs. She grabbed his wrist to stay his hand.

Even to my eyes, it seemed Nathan’s hands were everywhere. While she was tugging at one, the other found its way to her bare leg, gliding up her thigh to disappear beneath the edge of her skirt.

The girl squirmed uncomfortably beneath his increasing ardor, pushing at his other hand now. She had zero luck. Neither hand budged so she began pushing at his shoulders. “Nathan, I said no,” she cried. I could hear the rising panic in her tone.

Ignoring her, Nathan’s arm jerked as he pulled violently at something I couldn’t see. I heard the ripping sound of seams giving way; I assumed it was her panties.

The girl began to struggle in earnest, realizing what he was attempting. “Nathan!” Her voice trembled. She was about to cry. Cold chills raced down my arms. She just realized she was in serious trouble.

With a growl, Nathan reached between their bodies and I heard the sound of a zipper. I raised my hand to my mouth to smother a gasp. It was horrifying to watch, yet I couldn’t look away.

Despite her thrashing, the girl must’ve heard it, too. She raised a hand and dug her fingernails into the side of his face, dragging them down his neck, leaving long bloody gashes in his skin. With a growl, Nathan clenched his fingers into a fist and hit her in the side of the head.

The girl’s head lolled back and forth for a minute; she seemed addled by the punch. I scooted to the edge of my cushion, every muscle in my body tensed and ready for action, action that could not help her no matter how much I might wish it. Hot tears streamed silently down my face as I willed the girl to do something, anything, to save herself.

Within seconds, I saw the light of alertness come back into the girl’s eyes. I watched as it shifted first to panic. It swelled in her face and my heart broke for her. I felt her fear and her helplessness almost as if they were my own. And then I saw something that I had experienced too many times in the last several months not to recognize. I saw her panic turn to rage.

Nathan’s ardor had only increased by her resistance. He was going to persist, whether she wanted him to or not.

As his mouth skated across her jaw line dropping unwanted kisses toward her mouth, the girl turned her head. She found his nose with her teeth and she bit down. Hard.

Nathan screamed and rolled off the girl, coming to his feet beside the bed. He was holding a hand over his face. Blood was oozing between his fingers. Though his voice was muffled, I could plainly make out what he called her. And she heard it, too.

As he turned to walk across the room, I glimpsed the wall behind him. It looked like the interior of a cabin, with its large exposed beams and whitish chinch fill in between. He stopped at a dresser that sat against the wall opposite the bed. He leaned in to the mirror that hung above it. As I watched his reflection, I caught sight of something else moving in the glass. In the image of the window near the bed, I could see a pale face floating eerily against the black of the night.

It was Grey. Her eyes met mine in the mirror. Anticipation was gleaming in the obsidian depths.

“Look what you did to me!” Nathan yelled, turning back to her, fists clenched at his sides.

“You deserved that. And more!” The girl had risen to her feet and was standing in the center of the bed, shouting defiantly at Nathan. “Just wait until people find out what kind of monster you really are. Only a total loser has to take what he wants because no one is willing to give it to him. And that’s what you are—a monster and a loser.”

Nathan’s blood-streaked face blanched at her words and a look of utter satisfaction settled over her pretty features. But, alas, it was short-lived.

Suddenly the blood rushed back into Nathan’s face, turning it beet red, and he began to shake. The smugness drained from the girl’s expression when she realized that she’d overshot her mark. She’d made her threats before she was out of harm’s way. And her mistake was a fatal one.

With a cry that sent chills racing down my arms, Nathan leapt up onto the bed and grabbed the girl by the throat. Her eyes widened in shock and she pulled at his wrists. She couldn’t move them an inch. She beat and smacked at his arms then turned her fingernails to his face once more. When that didn’t work, she reached for his nose, but he was able to turn his face this way and that, keeping his wounded nose from her grasp.

He tightened his grip on her neck and began to shake her. She made coughing, sputtering sounds, her face turning an unhealthy purplish red. Tighter and tighter he squeezed, her struggles becoming less and less robust. Finally, her eyes rolled back in her head and a whitish ring began to develop around her mouth. Seconds later, she went limp in his arms.

Nathan followed her down to the bed, where he straddled her lifeless body. He continued to strangle her even though she showed no signs of consciousness. He muttered something under his breath and shook her again.

Furiously, he growled and mumbled, spittle flying from his lips and peppering her ruddy face. Again and again, he shook her, her head snapping back and forth violently.

Finally, Nathan released his grip on the girl’s neck. Behind him, I saw Grey walk to the bed and slide in beside the girl’s limp body. With a toothy smile that turned my blood to ice, she lowered her mouth to the girl’s throat and bit down.

The girl’s body twitched, almost as if she’d felt it. I wanted to shout to the boy, “Check her pulse! Check her pulse!” I knew it wouldn’t have mattered, though. He wanted her to be dead. That much was obvious.

And then my living room floor was empty once more, all the characters in the macabre play vanishing into thin air.

I sat on the couch, appalled at what I’d seen, but also thankful that my tryst with Stephen Fitchco hadn’t gone that far awry, ending in a similar manner.

My mind raced with one thought. What can I do? What can I do? What can I do?

Derek’s words broke the loop, so clearly he could’ve spoken them aloud.

Now that you’ve made the deal, there’s a house you can use... has a bunch of doors...take you to the marked.

A house with a bunch of doors? I thought of the house that I’d dreamt of, that huge, dark monstrosity that seemed to ooze evil from every nook and cranny. Could he have meant that house? “But how do I even get there?” I asked absently, speaking to no one in particular.

“Get where?” I’d forgotten that Leah was there.

“Oh, uh, nowhere. I was just thinking.”

Leah tipped her head to the side. “Car-son,” she said warningly. “Spill.”

“I just, um, I, uh—”

“Stop trying to lie without lying,” she interrupted. “Just tell me the truth. Aren’t we kind of past keeping secrets by now anyway?”

She had a valid point. It’s not like I hadn’t just told her all the gory details about my insane life anyway. What was I afraid of? What was I hiding?

I told Leah what I’d seen (foregoing most of the detail) and then explained my dilemma. Leave it to Leah to see the logic.

“If you’ve been dreaming of the house and Derek knows about it, it’s probably not over here,” she reasoned. “Maybe you should start with the clearing. Seems like the woods are where all sorts of bad things happen anyway.” She said the last under her breath and with no small amount of bitterness.

I couldn’t fully agree, considering all the good times Derek and I had shared in the woods, but Leah didn’t have to know that so I didn’t argue with her.

“You may have a point,” I conceded, still trying to think of another way, one that didn’t involve going to the clearing.

“What exactly is your plan anyway?”

I looked at Leah, puzzled. “What do you mean? I’m going to save her. What do you think my plan is?”

“Save her?” Leah sounded skeptical, which was odd since she’d very recently benefited from just such a plan.

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?” Leah’s attitude rubbed me the wrong way, aggravating me.

“No,” she said, looking away, but her body language and expression clearly said there was.

“Alright, Leah. Out with it.”

“Nothing,” she maintained then, after a moment, reconsidered. When she lifted her eyes to mine, anger simmered in their sable depths. “Well, look at me. It’s not like your rescue of me worked out so perfectly, you know?”

I was speechless. Did she really feel like this was somehow my fault?

“Well, excuse me for saving your life. Maybe I should’ve thought of the pros and cons first, asked around a little bit even. Oh wait,” I snapped. “I was too busy saving your life.”

Leah opened her mouth to rebut, but I wasn’t interested in anything she had to say. I turned on my heel and stalked out of the living room. I grabbed my jacket and the keys then walked out to the garage.

On the short drive to the forks, I seethed over Leah’s audacity, the conversation playing over and over in my head. Then, unbidden, a cryptic warning Fahl had given me popped into my mind. I hadn’t known how to make sense of it at the time, but now…

…as long as you don’t try anything reckless, Leah will be enjoying her cookies by Christmas.

Was this what he’d meant? Had I really somehow caused what had befallen Leah?

I pushed that disturbing thought to the back of my mind as I had arrived at the forks. I pulled onto the shoulder of the road, got out and headed for the forest.

I jogged through the woods, toward the clearing, eager to get in and get out. When I arrived, Fahl was already there, in his tall, blond form, waiting for me.

“Good. You’re here,” he said in a deep voice with traces of a Swedish or German accent. It was strange to be standing face to face with the man that had been spying on me and Derek at the beach. His long hair glistened in the moonlight and a satisfied smile graced his handsome face. “Three things. First, picture the black house. Can you see it?”

When he jumped right in like that, it took me a minute to catch up. I shook my head, as always too distracted by him to think very clearly.

“Close your eyes and concentrate,” he said more slowly, his voice becoming soft and hypnotic. I did as he said. “Can you see it?” I could hear the leaves crackle under his weight as he approached me.

Focusing, I conjured up the image from my dream, just as haunting and intimidating as it had been while I was asleep. “Yes.”

“Good. Now, think of the symbol on the girl. That’s the door you’ll use.”

I nodded, eyes still closed so I wouldn’t lose the image.

“And, Carson,” he whispered, his voice right at my ear. “Don’t forget our deal.”

I got that cold spider web sensation again and then a terrible taste invaded my mouth. I opened my eyes just in time to see Fahl start to move past me, through me. His body began to shake and shimmer and then he was gone, his odor the only sign that he’d been there at all.

Closing my eyes once more, I pictured the black house. I wasn’t sure how long I was supposed to do that so I kept my focus on the image.

The first things I noticed were changes in ambient noises. There was absolute silence, an eerie stillness that speaks of an inherent lack of life and all things living. Then I started to feel dizzy. When my feet began to feel wet, I opened my eyes to see what was going on.

I looked down. I was standing in water up to my knees. I looked up and around. Up ahead, I could see the black house hovering on the moonlit horizon. I was in the pond that I’d seen my father floating in.

With a shriek, I started running, which was a slow, wet process in any amount of water.

When I reached the shore, I walked toward the black house. In my peripheral vision, I could see shapes moving inside the shadow, just like in my dreams, but I kept my focus on the task (and the house) at hand.

I moved cautiously up the steps and stood in front of the narrow front door. I looked back and, just like before, the pond was gone. Only the crisp field remained.

I turned back toward the house and looked down at the door knob. It, too, was just as I remembered—silver with an intricate design etched onto its surface. I bent to get a better look.

Best I could tell in the dark was that the knob was divided into four quadrants. In each quadrant was a different design. I recognized two of them. One had vines with tiny leaves and delicate flowers. The other was flames, just like the ones on my back.

The other two were unfamiliar to me, but I thought I knew what they meant. One looked like waves in a tumultuous sea, the other swirls of silver. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say water and wind, the other two of the four elements. The two I suspected that my sister could control.

I reached for the doorknob and the instant my skin made contact, my insides caught fire. Never in my life had I felt such an intense, indescribably horrific pain. I gasped, filling my lungs with burning air. I let it out on a blood-curdling scream that I thought surely echoed into the other world. When my chest was empty of both fire and air and I could scream no more, I listened as other sounds began to fill the dead silence. Shuffling, dragging, moaning, gurgling.

I pushed through the pain and turned my head to the right as much as I could. And I saw them. The dead were all around me, closing in on me where I stood on the stoop.

With every ounce of strength I had, I twisted the doorknob. Luckily, it turned easily and I all but fell inside. I lay on the floor, immobilized by the excruciating pain. I could see the door from my position, and the dead just outside it. I knew in my current state I wouldn’t be able to defend myself and, as my mind raced with thoughts of what they might do to me, my heart raced with terror.

The dead mounted the steps slowly, dragging dangling limbs and wobbling on broken legs, bumping into one another. A man made it to the top first. He wore only a grungy dress shirt that hung in tatters from his bloody shoulders. I could see teeth marks on nearly every visible inch of skin. There were even chunks of skin missing from his cheeks and chin. And one eye socket was a gaping black hole in his head.

I watched, terrified, as he stepped to the door. I tried to get my legs to move, but I was still in too much pain.

As he took the next step, the step that would bring him into the house and within inches of my foot, he stopped with his foot in midair. He set his foot down and looked at the doorway. He raised his leg to take that step again, but once more he stopped.

Anger contorted his mangled features and he raised his hand toward the doorway. I could see the palm flatten as if it were pressed against an invisible barrier. He tightened his fingers into a fist and beat at the doorway, but still he couldn’t pass through it.

Relief flooded me and as I watched the others approach the door and try to get in, unable to. And, slowly, my pain began to subside.

When it had lessened to something more like menstrual cramps (only in every muscle of my entire body), I sat up.

And I saw that I had no legs.

Panic erupted from the churning pit of my stomach and I felt the blood drain from my face. I reached down to touch the empty space where my flesh should’ve been and I felt…my legs. I flexed the muscles in my right thigh and felt them contract under my fingers. Puzzled, I wiggled my toes. I felt the material of my socks and the rigid toe of my shoes. I bent my legs at the knee, preparing to stand—or try to anyway—and that’s when I saw the hint of an outline, an outline that looked like my legs.

As I moved them, I could see the hardwoods through them, through my legs. They shimmered and danced like I was seeing them through heat waves. I thought of the way Fahl shimmered when he walked through me and realized it must have something to do with traveling through the Darkness.

Then, right before my eyes, my arms began to fade. I pushed myself onto my feet and looked down at my body. My trunk was fading as well. I could just barely see the faint lines of where my body stopped and thin air began. To the untrained eye, there would probably be no difference. To most people, I’d be invisible.

A familiar voice interrupted the unhealthy escalation of my emotions. I recognized her words as well. It was the girl from my living room floor, the girl that would soon be dead if I didn’t find her in time. And, though she might be anyway, I was determined to do everything within my power to prevent it.

Pushing my transparency and implications thereof out of my immediate thoughts, I turned in a circle, examining the halls that sprouted off in different directions from the hub in which I stood.

Now, think of the symbol on the girl. That’s the door you’ll use, Fahl had said.

“But which hall is it in?” I said to the empty room. It was no surprise when no answer came. Knowing time was quickly running out, I tried to imagine which direction the voice had come from. I decided it was definitely from my left so I chose the hall closest to me, on the left, and I took off down its dark length.

I stopped in front of the first door, straining to see the symbol etched onto its front. It was too triangular to be the right one so I moved on. The next one I came to was similar, but still not right. It had too many horizontal lines. Next.

I performed this same examination on every door down that hall. I was beginning to think I’d chosen the wrong hall when I was down to the last three doors. Door number three was all wrong. Its symbol was circular, not at all what I was searching for. Door number two looked close, but it was missing a vertical piece that I was pretty sure I’d seen. I was beginning to walk on to the last door when I saw another stroke appear.

It was as if the symbol was forming as I stood there. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I could see the vertical piece that it lacked, as well as the final horizontal line, come into view as I watched. When the last line was drawn, forming the symbol I sought, it shone brilliantly for about three seconds then started to blacken, as if it were tarnishing, fading right before my eyes.

Taking a deep breath and sending up a silent prayer to the God I was beginning to think really was up there, I twisted the door knob and stepped through.

And there I was, in the room with Nathan and the girl. And I wasn’t too late. I watched as the girl rose onto her feet in the center of the bed.

“You deserved that. And more!” The girl was shouting at Nathan and I knew her threats would come next. “Just wait until people find out what kind of a monster you really are. Only a total loser has to take what he wants because no one is willing to give it to him. And that’s what you are—a monster and a loser.”

It was like the scariest déjà vu ever. And just like in my vision, I watched Nathan’s face blanch and the girl become smug.

As the blood began to fill Nathan’s face, one thought rolled on a loop through my head because I knew what was coming. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

I watched the surreal scene play out as if in slow motion. Nathan’s face turned beet red and he shook with rage. Then there was the cry, the one that proclaimed he was out of control and homicidal. It still sent chills down my arms, just like it had earlier.

I watched him jump up onto the bed and grab the girl by the throat. My mind scrambled for what to do. That’s when I saw Grey outside the window, watching. In reality, the look on her face was hunger. And pleasure. And that spurred me into action.

Distract him, I thought.

Concentrating on the curtains, I lit them on fire, hoping that would distract him long enough for the girl to escape. He didn’t even notice. I shook the ground, the bed trembling on its heavy frame. Nathan didn’t pause. He was intent on killing the girl.

I saw the fire burning higher and hotter and wondered if I’d acted too impulsively. Just then a vicious wind blew open the window and rain started peppering in on the curtains, quickly dousing the flames.

And my eyes met Grey’s. Her lips twisted in a dark, satisfied smile that enraged me.

I looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon, but I heard the girl’s choking sounds begin to fade. In desperation, I leapt up on the bed and kicked Nathan in the head as hard as I could.

Dazed, he sat up, releasing the girl’s throat, his body weaving dizzily. I took advantage of the opening, curled up my fingers and punched him as hard as I could in the jaw, knocking him back onto the bed.

I screamed at the girl, “Get up! Get up!” She didn’t move. I bent to look into her face. Her eyes were open and she was conscious.

“She can’t hear you,” Grey said, appearing on the other side of the bed.

I reached down to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake her when a mighty wind blew through the window and knocked me off the bed and into the wall across the room.

The gale force of the current pinned me against the wall. Helplessly, I looked back at Grey. She held one hand out toward me and with the other, she was flicking her fingers at Nathan’s face.

“Get up, loser,” she was saying.

I watched helplessly as Nathan sputtered and sat up. Disoriented at first, he looked down at the girl. I held my breath, hoping he would forget his deadly intentions. I was encouraged at first when he got off the bed. But then I heard Grey whispering something. She was chanting below her breath.

I watched Nathan go to the dresser and pick up a handheld mirror. He broke it against the wall then bent to pick up a long, jagged shard. I looked back to Grey. She was still chanting, nodding in approval as he walked slowly back to the bed.

“No,” I screamed, but no one seemed to notice. Was he hearing Grey or was she doing something else to him to get him to do her will, influencing him somehow?

I had to stop him. And I had to stop Grey—without killing her. I closed my eyes and pictured the black sweater and jeans she was wearing. Then I pictured them on fire.

I didn’t open my eyes until I heard her screams then I turned my attention to the boy. With Grey distracted with the flames, the wind died down and I slid to the floor. I sat back on my haunches and watched Nathan as he lofted the piece of mirror over his head, aiming roughly for the girl’s face and neck. And I pictured his hands on fire.

Suddenly, they burst into flame. He shook his fingers and jumped back as if he’d touched something hot. But there was no escaping the fire that was consuming his flesh. Not unless I willed it.

As he hopped around the room, squalling, shaking and swatting his hands in the air, I hurried to the bed. I put my hands on the girl’s shoulders and urged her into a sitting position. I grabbed her legs behind the knees and turned her around until her feet dangled off the edge of the bed.

Grabbing her hands, I pulled her off the bed and hurried her to a door on my side of the room. I opened it up. It was a closet, nearly empty, so I shoved her inside. I closed the door behind me and turned my attention back to the two people on fire.

The flames were working their way up Nathan’s arms. He was on the floor writhing in pain. In my mind, I doused the flames and they dwindled to nothing, leaving only charred and melted skin in their wake.

Grey was not in as bad a shape. She had walked to the window and let the rain blow in on her, effectively extinguishing most of her flames. Her eyes were on me. And they were murderous.

The wind began to blow again, even stronger this time. Quickly, I was pinned to the wall again, but then I was sliding along it toward the other door in the wall.

As I neared it, the wind blew it open and I was propelled inside, slamming against another wall, this one above the tub, which was full of water.

My heart beat pounded against my ribs and thumped in my ears. A knot of fear lodged in my throat and my mouth went dry.

And then I was under water. I struggled to lift my head, but I couldn’t. It was as if huge invisible hands held me under, hands that were impossible to move. I tried to clear my mind enough to focus on Grey, but panic had taken over. My worst fear was coming to pass. I was drowning. And it was all I could think about.

In the back of my mind, I saw my father and Derek and remembered that this was the deal I’d made. If I was to free them, I had to let Grey kill me. But something in me, some primal part of my spirit, wanted nothing more than to survive. And it fought. It fought hard.

I kicked my legs and flung my arms, but there was nothing to grab onto, nothing to help me. My lungs burned with the need to breathe, but still I fought. Then my head started to spin lightly, an almost pleasant feeling amid the turmoil I was otherwise feeling. My arms got heavier and heavier until they felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. It got harder and harder to move them.

I shook my head to clear it, but that only served to make it spin faster. And then the urge to breathe was just too much. I opened my mouth to gasp and…air filled my lungs.

I coughed and sputtered, struggling to catch my breath. When finally my head began to clear, I was more confused than ever. I opened my eyes to look around and saw Grey hovering over me, her hands on my shoulders.

Then anger struck.

“Why did you save me? I was almost gone. I could feel it. Why did you do that? I’m supposed to die!”

Grey shrugged nonchalantly and leaned her hip against the sink, her red hair cascading over her shoulders.

“A, it’s not that easy. See?” She held out her arms, which should’ve been burned to a crisp, yet there was not so much as a single blister to indicate she’d been on fire. “And B,” she said, stepping to the edge of the tub and bending down to whisper in my ear. “I have other plans.”

With that, she straightened, gave me a chilling smile and then she was gone.

I sat in the tub, silent and dumbstruck, trembling in the aftermath of what had happened. A low moan startled me into action.

Rolling out of the tub, I was on my feet and through the door in a flash, only to find Grey hovering over Nathan, her teeth buried in his neck.

“Grey! What are you doing?”

She ignored me, sucking voraciously on his artery. My mouth watered and my throat burned with sudden thirst. My gums ached and the throb of another pulse beat in my ears.

With a thump, she let his head drop back to the hard floor and she stood. “You can’t save everyone, Carson,” she said, wiping her forearm across her bloody mouth. “And now I have help.” And then she was gone. Really gone.

I was alone in the room with Nathan, who was lying barely conscious on the floor. His hands were a burnt mess and his throat was ravaged.

A pounding to my right brought my attention to the closet. I rushed to open the door. The girl just stood there for a minute, looking confused, before she peeked curiously around the room then took a tentative step forward. Like a frightened doe, she eased out little by little until she was clear of the closet.

I closed the door behind her and she screeched, jumping like I’d pinched her. She whirled around and looked sharply about. It was then I remembered that she couldn’t see me.

If she can’t hear me and she can’t see me, then how can I help her? How can I tell her she’s got another chance?

She backed cautiously away from me, stumbling into the bed. Clearly spooked, she hurriedly bent to pick up her clothes and get dressed. I looked around in frustration, searching for some way to communicate with her. Then I saw the desk in the corner.

Rushing to it, I saw a stationary box on top, along with a pen. Quickly, I wrote her a note and carried it over to the bed. Gently, I slid it onto the bed behind her where she’d see it when she turned around. And she did.

Slowly, cautiously, the girl picked up the note and read it. Her brow furrowed in perplexity and I saw her eyes go back to the top. She read it again.

This won’t make sense, but you were supposed to die tonight. At Nathan’s hand. You’ve been given a second chance at life, at choosing where your soul will end up. Don’t waste it. Believe.

I watched the girl’s face crumple as she squeezed her eyes shut. Then the tears began to fall. She fell onto the bed and put her face in her hands and she wept. For several minutes I stood there, feeling accomplished and satisfied, but then I remembered that there was now a creature, more dangerous than ever, lying several feet from where this girl sat. I needed to get her out of there. Fast.

Scanning the room again, I spotted some cosmetics on the floor by the girl’s overturned purse. I picked up a lipstick and uncapped it. Red. Perfect.

I walked to the dresser and penned letters onto the attached mirror then threw the lipstick at the girl to get her attention. She first looked down at the lipstick and then up, in the general direction from which it had come. I knew the instant she saw my message; her mouth fell open.

Get out NOW!

Within seconds, understanding prodded her into motion. She swiped the lipstick off the bed, bent to her purse, shoved the contents back inside and took off out the door. I followed her as far as the driveway where she hopped in Nathan’s car, started the engine and peeled out toward the main road at the end of the short drive.

I walked back inside and went to stand over Nathan. He was beginning to stir more and smack his lips, as if they were parched. I knew what was coming for him, at least as far as what I’d experienced with Leah. And I knew it wasn’t good.

As I watched Nathan, a symbol appeared on the door behind him. I assumed it was the door that led to the rest of the cabin, as the other two were to the bathroom and closet. The symbol was the one I’d seen on the girl, the same one I’d found on the door that brought me here. Stepping forward, I was thinking, It only stands to reason…

I opened it and stepped through the doorway. Sure enough, I turned to shut it behind me, but it was no longer there, only trees. I was in the clearing. And it was empty.

The sky was turning a lighter blue, a sure sign that dawn was on its way. Though I was anxious to get home and check on Leah, I spotted a felled tree at the edge of the clearing and I sat.

Slowly, the sky turned from pale blue to a soft orange as the sun burned its way onto the horizon, chasing away the darkness and the moon. Though I couldn’t see the great yellow ball yet, I felt its light and warmth deep on the inside, chasing away my darkness, too.

As though the thirst I’d felt when I saw Grey drink from Nathan had somehow begun to possess me, too, I felt it seep away as I sat in the light. It was then that I knew. As I looked up into the ever-brightening heavens, I knew that my life (or death, as it were) had a purpose. I had work to do, lives to save.

I’d done a good thing tonight. And I was glad for it. I’d never really helped someone like that before. And it felt incredible. Though it had been scary at times and I had no clue what I was doing, it was totally worth it in the end. Now all that was left was to save my loved ones, not that death was such a trivial thing —if you could even call the second death of a dead person “death”.

It was then that I remembered what Grey had said. I stood, suddenly feeling harried and uncertain.

A thundercloud settled over me. Grey had said she wouldn’t kill me. And if she wouldn’t kill me, then how was I going to save Dad and Derek?