Dead River

Chapter Seventeen



My nightmares are worse than they have ever been. Justin and Angela, walking away from me as I slide down the muddy embankment toward the river. I’m screaming for help, but they are too enamored of one another to hear me. I claw at the earth, but my fingers just rake through mud. The girl in the pink party dress is standing over me. She spews more mud from her mouth, then reaches toward me. At first I think she is going to help me. Instead, she entwines her fingers in the hair at the top of my head and pushes my face into the soft earth. I can’t breathe; all I can do is taste the thick, gritty stuff as it spreads into my mouth and nostrils. Now even screaming isn’t possible. Someone is chanting something. You’re a stupid girl, a female voice whispers in my ear. Stupid, stupid.

My throat is so dry it burns, which is ironic considering the background noise is the rushing water, so close I can probably touch it. I smell tree sap. Wisps of hair fly in my face, tickling me. I try to sweep them away with my hand, but I can’t lift my arm. I take inventory and realize I can’t lift either arm, or my legs. My limbs ache numbly, as if they’re bound so tightly that my feet and hands tingle. I’m afraid to open my eyes, because I know that what I’ll see won’t be good.

When I will my eyes open, it’s so dark that all I see are the faint outlines of the pine trees. I twist my head either way, looking for the source of the voice. Was it just my imagination again? Have I been left here to die, alone, at the base of this tree?

Then I hear footsteps. A face shockingly pale and ghostlike appears just inches from mine. The voice is the same as the one I heard in my dream. “She’s awake! Get her some water.”

My eyes ache as I try to open them, as if the lids are weighted down. When I force them open, I see only blackness. Water should be the last thing I need, but when a cup reaches my lips I lap at it savagely, like a dog, feeling it spill down my chin and into my throat. It’s strangely thick and oily and smells of mold and earth, but I don’t care. I swallow and the pain subsides, and when I open my eyes again, things come into focus.

I stare at her. Everything about her is familiar. It’s Lannie. My imaginary best friend from long ago. She holds up a lantern between us to look into my eyes. Hers are pretty and round, like pearls, with concern. She’s not imaginary. She’s real.

“Lannie?” I ask, struggling to rise. “What are you—”

She pushes me down and gently relaxes me on a bed of pine needles. “Shhh. You should rest.”

“Well, who do we have here?” a male voice calls from a distance. I strain in the darkness and see him sauntering toward me. Jack. Immediately I catch my breath, and despite the pain everywhere in my body, I feel warm. Despite all the warnings Trey gave me, I know I am blushing. Why does Jack do this to me?

He gives me a seductive half smile, like he knows what I’m thinking. I look away, at Lannie, in time to see her glare at him. Jack, all six-feet-and-change of him, seems to fold in under the stare of the barely five-foot girl. He lowers his head and silently steps back.

I begin to sit up. “I need to go home. I need to—” Suddenly I remember dancing with Justin under the disco lights at the Outfitters. The expression on his face. His confession reverberates in my ears. I kissed Angela. I can’t go back to him. I don’t want to see him now, and maybe not ever. I slump back to the ground.

Jack steps closer to me. This near, his eyes threaten to set me afire, so I look away, to his knees. He whispers, “Can I get you anything?”

My heart skips at his words, as if he has offered me the world. I think about what Trey said. About Jack being the enemy. About how nothing Jack tells me is true. And so a small part of me wants to push him away, say no thank you, and be on my way. But the larger part of me is screaming, Get closer! It’s not that I’ve forgotten how to say no. It’s just that with Jack, the word has ceased to exist in my vocabulary. I find myself nodding in agreement, whispering, “Anything.”

He laughs, breaking me out of my trance. Whoa. I’m a total goofball. What is happening to me?

“Something to eat?” He holds out a granola bar, the kind they sell at the Outfitters. “Now you cannot accuse me of ignoring the unique needs of the living.”

I take the bar from him. It’s crushed like a pancake but I hold it like it’s a precious gem. Lannie watches us intently, her expression lost between amusement and questioning. She sweeps her dark, pretty hair over her shoulder and scratches her neck. For the first time I see there are horrible bruises there, as if someone choked her. I recall how we used to play hide-and-seek on the river in New Jersey, and how I’d run in and out among the trees, lost and confused, only to find her hanging from a tree by her neck. She always did things like that, shocking things. She said it was only in fun, because everything else was so boring. I start to say something, but she notices me looking and brings her hair forward quickly and anxiously, concealing the bruises once more.

A little girl steps out from among the trees, smoothing the skirt of her pink party dress, despite the fact that it’s covered in mud. As is her entire chin. Mud is oozing from her mouth. She’s staring at me curiously. When she is only an arm’s length away, she stoops, reaches out, and tugs on a lock of my hair. She pulls again and again, like she’s ringing a bell, her head tilted in question. Her expression, inquisitive yet forlorn, does not change.

“Um, hi,” I say to her.

Jack looks at her and rolls his eyes. He explains, “Vi doesn’t talk. She’s Lannie’s sister.”

Lannie puts a protective arm around her sister and begins to massage her small shoulder as the three of them beam at me like I’m a long-lost relative, here for a visit. “It’s so nice to have you here,” Lannie says. “I’ve missed you, Kiandra. I’ve missed our talks. Where have you been all this time?”

I nod. I’ve missed her, too. Even though I only saw her in the visions I had during those two years I lived on the river, I feel close to her, like she grew up with me. Actually, no, she was always older, always more mature, and she never changed. Her hair was always long, and chestnut brown, and she was never in anything other than that white dress. From what I remember, the last time we’d talked, it was about normal seven-year-old things. She liked tubing, fishing, and hopscotch, and all the things I liked, yet she always looked older. “My mother died, and we moved away,” I say.

She makes a tsk-tsk noise. “Shame. But you know your mother is here, yes?”

I nod. “So I’ve heard.”

“You were very fond of her?”

I shrug. “I was seven. Seven-year-old girls are always fond of their mothers, aren’t they?”

“I suppose. But now you’re not?”

“I don’t know her anymore,” I sigh. “She left me. To come here, I guess. I guess this place was more important to her than her family.”

“I understand. So you don’t want to see her, then?”

“I do,” I say immediately. “But the one guy who’s supposed to take me there is under orders not to.”

“You mean Trey Vance?” she asks, pursing her lips. “That’s shortsighted of your mother. Her powers are fading, but she denies it.”

“They are?”

She laughs so unexpectedly and loudly that I throw back my head, banging it hard against the tree trunk behind me. She looks at Jack, who has been leaning against a tree trunk, examining his fingernails, but suddenly springs to attention when her eyes fall on him. Then she touches my hand. Her hand is so cold, clammy. Instantly I think of my mother. “Kiandra, we need you.” She motions behind her. “Jack will explain things to you.”

“Wait,” I say as I realize what she is about to do. “Don’t leave me with—”

I stop because, at the same time, I want to be left alone with him. She flings her hair over her shoulder and walks away until all I can see is her white dress, glowing in the pale blue light of the moon.

Jack comes toward me, and my heart starts thrumming as he does. He grins like he knows what he’s doing to me. Like he relishes me going crazy for him. He touches my chin. His finger is surprisingly warm, and with that simple touch he sends electric shocks through my body. I know I’m quivering from head to toe. I know it’s visible. My cheeks redden even more.

He sits down on the grass, cross-legged. “You’re afraid of me?”

When my mouth opens, my teeth are chattering. I’m not afraid of him, but I know I should be. And that’s what I’m afraid of. “Trey,” I whisper. “He says you’ll hurt me.”

He leans forward. “I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to.”

I stare at him.

He grins. “I’m joking. I am not out to hurt you.”

“Why were you practically dragging me across the river this morning, then?”

“I was only helping. You’re being lured to the water. You wanted to go across, but you’re afraid. And you needn’t be. Once you’re over there, you’ll see.”

I eye him suspiciously. “You didn’t have to drag me. Anyway, I thought it’s Trey’s job to take me across. Not yours.”

He laughs. “And I’m not allowed to help the kingdom out?”

“You almost killed me,” I mutter.

His face is grave, regretful. “Do not say that. I am not some kind of monster. Trey has good reason to hate me, though, I suppose. He’s thinking of something that happened a long time ago.”

“What happened a long time ago?”

“You’ve heard how he died, yes?” he asks. “Your friends told those horribly inaccurate ghost stories around the campfire a few nights ago. Were you listening?”

“How could I not? And I saw it, as it was happening. I saw him fall into the water. I saw him drown.”

“Ah. Your powers allow you to see those things.” He presses his lips together. “You didn’t see who killed him, though.”

“No, I couldn’t see that. Two boys killed him, I think.”

“Or so the story goes,” he says with a shrug. “But the truth is, Trey was killed by only one person. And you’re looking at him.”