There are stick figures and symbols, and some of the faces are scratched out, and I don’t remember his journal being so morbid or nonsensical when I found it so long ago. If it had been, I would’ve taken it straight to our parents because this, this, this is crazy.
I stare at a picture, and it’s of two boys and a girl. One of the boys is scratched completely out, but I can still see his eyes and his eyes are black and I know the boy is Dare. Finn scratched out Dare.
ONE FOR ONE FOR ONE.
THE DIE HAS BEEN CAST, IT’S BEEN CAST.
ONE FOR ONE FOR ONE,
AND IT WON’T BE ME.
IT WON’T BE CALLA.
ONE
FOR
ONE
FOR
ONE.
I’m frozen as an ominous feeling builds in my belly, spreading to my chest where it threatens to stop my heart. Dark fingers seem to grab my shoulders and shake hard, harder, harder until my teeth chatter.
DEATH IS THE BEGINNING.
The beginning.
The beginning.
I need to start.
I drop the journal and take off running, back through the trees. The branches whip at my face and I slip around in the dew, but it doesn’t matter.
I know why Finn wouldn’t come with me.
He knew I’d find his journal, and he knew I’d stop him from whatever stupid thing he’s going to try and do. I can tell from his writing… he believes what Sabine told me. A sacrifice must be made, and he’s not going to let it be me.
DEATH IS THE BEGINNING. I NEED TO START.
A sacrifice.
A sacrifice.
The sacrifice is me.
We pay for the sins of our fathers.
I am the sin.
I am the sacrifice.
The words race through my head, over and over, as I burst from the trees, and I see him. I see Finn, and he’s running with the hooded boy, with Death.
I chase after them into Whitley, as I bound up the stairs, as I race to Finn’s room. It’s empty…except for Pollux and Castor. Finn had closed them up in the room, and there’s only one reason. So that they couldn’t follow him.
“Go,” I tell them firmly. “Go find Finn.”
They run from my room, their great bodies so loud as they thump down the halls. I follow as fast as I can, and I slam into Dare as he rounds a corner.
“What the devil…?” he asks, and he’s confused and I shove past him.
“My brother is in trouble,” I yell over my shoulder. He doesn’t ask questions, but I hear him behind me, I hear him running, I hear his breath. But I can’t pay attention to that. All I can do is follow the dogs. I chase them from the house, I chase them through the gardens, and I watch the tips of their black tails disappear through the gates of Whitley.
“Calla, wait,” Dare grabs my arm. “We’ve got to get the car.”
“There’s not time,” I mutter, and Dare yanks me to the side.
“Then the scooters. We’ll never keep up.”
The old scooters are next to the gate and I don’t know why they aren’t put away, but I’m grateful as I grab one and the battery is charged and I go full throttle down the road. Dare is with me on the other one, and we go and go, until the dogs race up a cliff.
Our scooters make winding sounds and lag behind because the climb is too steep and so I cast mine aside and run, my breathing labored, because somethingsomethingsomething is going to happen. I can feel it, I can feel it.
My brother.
My brother.
It’s a chant in my head and I can’t focus, and then I clear the crest at the top and there’s Finn.
He’s standing on the edge and the dogs have skidded to a stop and we all watch my brother.
“Don’t do it,” I plead with him because his face is serious and pale. “I don’t know what this is about, but please don’t do this, Finn. I need you.”
“I need to save you,” he says simply, and his voice is emotionless and there is no fear in his eyes. Absolutely no fear. “It has to be me. I’ve always known. Dare told me long ago.”
His black Converses teeter on the edge and he lifts his hands.
“I love you, Calla,” he tells me. “I’d die for you. It’s got to be me, because it can’t be you.”
Life is in slow motion, and he limply falls back, like he’s falling into bed, but instead, he falls off the side of the cliff.