“Well, for one thing, you don’t have the car keys.”
I lean my head against the wheel. I can’t so much as turn the headlights on. “Fine.” I get out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I slip my backpack over my shoulders and drop my duffle bag on the ground—I can leave it behind. All I really need is my phone and my passport. I walk to Clementine and hop on. The keys are in the ignition.
But before I can turn on the engine, Lucio grabs me and lifts me off the motorcycle with one arm and shoves poor Clementine onto her side with the other so quickly it’s like he has night vision. Still holding me, he kicks in the metallic pipes on the side of the bike with all his might.
“What’s wrong with you?” I shout, struggling against his grip. The rain makes his skin slippery.
“I’m not letting you kill yourself.”
“I’m not trying to kill myself! I’m trying to save my friend.”
“What exactly do you think is going to happen when you come face to face with Helena?” Lucio pants as he kicks the metal at his feet. Finally he lets me go and doubles over, gazing at what’s left of his beloved motorcycle.
“You can’t leave, Sunshine,” he says, his breath ragged.
“I can’t stay,” I counter.
Once more, despite the heat, a cool breeze blows down from the direction of Aidan’s lab, so forceful that the rain starts to fall sideways.
“What’s got them so worked up?” Lucio’s voice is thick with worry.
Despite the darkness, I can see Aidan nod in my direction.
“What are you two talking about?” The wind is whistling now. I have to shout to be heard.
“I think your sensitivity works both ways,” Aidan shouts back. “The same way you feel their emotions, they can feel yours.”
“But I haven’t actually helped any of those spirits move on.”
“Sunshine, at least half the spirits in that lab have come into some sort of contact with you.”
“If that’s true, then how come it’s never happened before?”
The answer is so obvious that Aidan doesn’t have to say it: I’ve never been this upset before.
He turns to Lucio. “We have to get them to calm down before—”
Behind us the mansion seems to groan. I turn around and see that the vines climbing the walls are shifting in the breeze. They look alive.
“Promise me you won’t leave,” Aidan orders.
“I’m not promising you anything.” One of the vines rattles loose, waving in the wind like a loose power line surging with deadly electricity.
“We’re surrounded by the jungle,” Aidan points out rationally. “You wouldn’t get far without help.”
Finally I nod. He’s right about that much.
But that just means it’s time for me to call in reinforcements.
Behind the mansion the breeze whips the leaves from the trees; they fly through the air like snowflakes in a blizzard, sticking to my skin. For once there aren’t any mosquitoes; the wind seems to have blown them all away. It’s so cold, I have to blow on my hands to keep warm. I shiver, hoping there isn’t anything waiting for me in the darkness: snakes and jaguars and other wild, hungry creatures.
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.
Dorothy was just trying to get home too. I pace the woods, using my cell phone as a flashlight, waiting for service to kick in. Mom said she would come and rescue me, but by the time she got here—by the time she booked a flight and switched planes and drove from the airport to Llevar la Luz and then drove us back and onto another plane . . . by then it might be too late. And I have no way of getting out of this godforsaken place myself. It’s not like there’s a highway close by where I can hitchhike my way back to the airport, and it’s not like I would actually get into a stranger’s car anyway—I’m desperate, not stupid. So I call the only friend I have within driving distance. The screen is slippery with rain, but I manage to dial.
“Sunshine?” Ashley asks groggily.
If she needs an express invitation to get here, then I’m going to give her one. “Hey, Ash,” I begin, shouting to be heard over the wind. “Remember the time you said you wanted to spend spring break in Mexico?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Calm
According to the directions I emailed Ashley, it will take her eleven hours to drive here. Thank goodness for GPS: using my phone, it could locate me even in the middle of nowhere, even in a place that has no address and exists on no map.
I told Ashley to look for a driveway hidden by enormous leaves, a secret entrance to a secret place. And Nolan said it would take thirty-four hours to drive between Ridgemont and this place. Which means I won’t be back home for nearly two days.