Kit raised a quieting hand. "Now's not the time--"
But Whitney on a mission is an unstoppable force. Her sights were trained on me.
Stepping around Kit, she grabbed my hand in hers. "Just attend Wednesday's dance, sugar. No strings. I know in my heart you'll adore it." Honey dripped from her voice. "It will do you oodles of good."
I hadn't the strength to fight her.
"Whatever. But now I need sleep."
"Okay, kiddo, go take it easy." Kit ruffled my hair, a rare display of fatherly affection. "I'll check on you later."
"I hope you feel better, darling." Whitney's smile was triumphant. "You're going to love the party. I promise!"
I climbed the stairs on trembling legs, anxious for escape.
CHAPTER 39
I tried to flee, but my feet were lead.
My pursuers thundered closer, faceless monsters determined to make me their lunch. My legs flailed uselessly, giving up ground.
Desperate, I dropped to hands and knees. My hips and spine realigned. Bones bent and shifted. My arms and legs thickened with muscle.
On all fours I took off like a shot, leaving the demons behind. I tore across the grass, wind whistling past my ears.
The ecstasy of pure speed ripped a sound from my throat.
I awoke with a start.
Had I howled in my sleep?
I stretched. Rubbed my eyes. Slowly, the images faded.
Even my dreams are insane.
The digits on my clock said 11:00 a.m.
Impossible. I checked my phone. Yep. I'd slept straight through the night and most of the morning.
I took stock of my body. Worse. Much worse. All systems under attack.
Head throbbing.
Stomach churning.
Lungs congested.
It was official: I'd caught something bad.
Throwing back the covers, I slipped out of bed.
SNAP.
Light exploded inside my head. My knees buckled.
Then. What? Nothing.
No aches. No flashes. No pain.
"Whoa."
A sudden, cloying smell nearly overwhelmed me. I looked around in confusion.
The odor was rolling in waves from my bathroom. Not a pure scent, but a cocktail of fat, lavender, mint, and rose.
Strange. I'd never noticed the noxious muddle before. I hadn't bought any new products or changed my routine. But the reek was overpowering. Shutting the door, I vowed to scrub my bathroom top to bottom.
Later.
Now, caffeine.
I shuffled downstairs.
As I passed through the living room, another smell assaulted my nostrils. A sickly funk floated from beneath the coffee table. I shuddered, covered my nose.
Had something died? The source of the odor had to be potent for me to notice from across the room. Steeling myself, I slid the coffee table six inches left.
On the floor lay a brown piece of lettuce. I scooped it, sniffed. The smell of rot made my eyes water. My gut clenched.
Gross.
It didn't make sense. A single lettuce leaf creating such a stink? How was that possible?
SNUP.
Sparks exploded in my brain. I wobbled, caught myself.
"Jesus!"
My nose shut down. The aroma of decay disappeared like a snuffed candle flame.
What the what?
I raised the veggie to my nose. Nothing. On impulse, I hurried upstairs. The soap-cleanser-flower bouquet was gone as well.
Perplexed, I descended again and plopped on the couch. My head was ringing anew. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift.
SNAP.
Blast of light.
Burst of pain.
Air exploded from my lungs.
I heard a tapping sound, quiet at first, then joined by a pulsating whine, like a lawnmower kicking to life.
I turned my head left, right, trying to pinpoint the source. The racket was coming from the kitchen.
My eyeballs tingled as I stared down the hallway. Suddenly, every detail crystallized into extraordinary clarity.
I sat rock still. It was as though I were seeing the kitchen through a telephoto lens. I could read the Cheerios ingredients from twenty feet out.
The tapping and whining grew more frenzied. Then new acoustics, a sucking, dripping sound.
Eyes wide, I laser-scanned the kitchen. Zeroed in. The noises were coming from the window.
Zip!
My vision zoomed to an even higher level of sharpness. I spotted a housefly patrolling the windowsill. Dark lines crisscrossed its cellophane wings. A thousand tiny red bumps formed its eyes.
The insect was exploring with small hairy feet. Its proboscis sucked and probed. Wings vibrating, it tried to solve the riddle of the glass.
I swear my jaw actually dropped.
I can hear a fly from across the house. I can see specks of dirt clinging to its feelers.
SNUP.
My vision flickered, shrank back to normal. After the clarity of the last few moments my usual 20/20 seemed fuzzy and imprecise.
I listened. No whining or tapping.
I sprang up and hurried to the kitchen window. The fly was there, but its movements were now barely audible. Its wings and eyes just looked like wings and red spots.
Numb, I raised the sash. The insect darted free, oblivious to my confusion.
Don't flip out. You're clearly sick.
Smell. Sight. Sound. All out of whack.