Awaken (8 page)

I looked to the road again, checking the
street signs that had suddenly become so much less useless than
before. Minutes passed until the intersection I needed came into
view, and quickly, I yanked the cord to request the driver to
stop.

It felt like his gaze tracked me the whole
way off the bus.

The station was a tiny brick building only a
single story high. A garbage bin blocked one of the doors, and the
other bore a handwritten sign demanding that I close it tightly for
the sake of the air conditioning. Eyeing the place dubiously, I
walked inside.

There weren’t any cops. Only a few people
occupied the cramped waiting room. I crossed the tile floor to the
ticket counter and bought a one-way trip to Santa Lucina, knowing
that even if the debit card transaction
would
tell my
parents where I was going, it wasn’t like they weren’t going to be
able to predict that anyway. Clutching my ticket, I headed for a
seat, and then froze as the intercom buzzed, announcing boarding
for the bus.

A thrill ran through me. This could actually
work. It was psychotic, and in no way made any sense whatsoever…
but it could work.

Feeling ridiculous, but somehow unable to
find it in myself to care, I followed the other passengers out the
door.

~~~~~

After we passed the desert, I felt better,
and by the time the bus pulled into the station, almost every trace
of the panic that’d gripped me the day before had gone. The
insistent drumming of the need to come back here had vanished from
my mind, leaving me with a sense of
rightness
that was
unnerving in its strength and made no sense at all.

I’d known I’d always loved the ocean, but
this was taking it a bit far.

And I was really starting to suspect I might
be insane.

Stepping from the bus into the cool midnight
air of Santa Lucina, I tried to ignore the thought as I looked
around the station. Other passengers climbed out behind me, heading
for the compartments beneath the bus to gather their belongings.
Heat from the exhaust cut through the salt on the wind, and drove
me a few steps away from the enormous vehicle.

And then I saw Baylie.

I’d called her a couple hours ago to let her
know I was coming. It seemed the smart thing to do, seeing as how I
didn’t have a ride, or even much of an idea how to get around town.
But as I spotted her standing with Peter in the waiting area, I
wondered if I shouldn’t have tried to think of another plan. She
looked upset.

And he looked pissed.

Bracing myself, I hefted my backpack and
walked over to them.

“Hey,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”

“Young lady,” Peter started. “What were you
thinking?”

I swallowed.

“We’ve called your parents and left a
message,” he continued. “I’m sure they’ll be on the way back here –
again
– as soon as they receive it.”

I gave a chagrinned nod. That was probably
true, assuming they hadn’t just left for the coast the moment my
dad got back to the motel, anyway.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I’m sorry?” I tried awkwardly. “Look, I know
this is bad, I just…”

I trailed off. I didn’t know what to tell
him. I
had
to come back here. I didn’t even feel like I’d
had a choice in the matter. And now, although the sense of
fishhooks nearly dragging me back had faded, the thought of leaving
again instantly made them start to return.

But of course, that would just sound
immature. Or, more truthfully, psychotic.

He sighed. “Come on, it’s late. We’ll discuss
this in the morning.”

Moving past us, he walked toward the parking
lot.

I glanced to Baylie. She didn’t meet my eyes
as she followed Peter.

A grimace twisting my face, I trailed after
them.

The car ride back was silent, and when we
reached the mansion, most of the house was dark. Leaving the car
parked in the circle drive, Peter led the way inside. A single
light was on in the kitchen, and the sound of someone setting a
dish into the sink carried down the long hall.

“Goodnight,” Peter said to us both as we came
in.

“Yeah,” Baylie said. She headed upstairs.

I hesitated. “Peter?”

“Yes?”

“Um, thanks for letting me come back
here.”

He gave me a patient look. “Of course. Now
get some sleep.”

I nodded and then followed Baylie. In the
guest room, she was already climbing into her bed. I paused by the
doorway, watching her.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked quietly.

She stopped moving. A heartbeat passed.

“No, I’m…” She shook her head, as if at a
loss for words. “You really scared me. Taking off like that,
getting on a bus back here. You could have been hurt.”

“I know. I wasn’t–”

“Why’d you do it?”

I didn’t respond.

“Chloe?”

“I guess I just… freaked out. Mom and Dad
were acting so weird – more than normal, I mean. They guarded the
motel room door and watched me all night, even when I was asleep.
And they told me they’ve decided to move to Salina, to stop ‘bad
influences’.”

Her incredulity became confusion. “Wait.
Me?”

I nodded.

“But now they’re going to think I’m even more
terrible.”

“They think everything’s terrible.”

“Chloe!”

“I’m sorry, alright? I don’t know what else
to say.”

I turned away, my gaze coming to rest on the
darkness beyond the window. Light from the porch lamp covered the
backyard, though the glow ended shy of the steps leading to the
beach below.

“So now what are you going to do?” Baylie
asked.

Shivering at the sudden compulsion to leave
the house and head for the beach, I pulled my attention back to
her. “Sleep? Peter’s right. They’ll be here to get me again
soon.”

“Yeah,” she agreed distractedly. “But when
they do… don’t take off again, okay? I mean, maybe they’ll calm
down and decide not to move, if you give them a bit.”

I regarded her dryly.

“Please?” she pressed. “I just… you scared
me. Moving a couple hours away is one thing, and yeah, that’d suck.
But I really don’t want you to end up on the streets getting hurt
or whatever.”

There was something almost desperate in her
voice. My brow furrowed.

She looked away. “There was a girl kidnapped
around here last night.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Homeless girl. Our age, though. She was
hanging out with her friends by the pier, went to the restroom and
never came back. But… one of Diane’s friends is a reporter. The
cops asked the news not to say anything yet, but she told Diane
that they found blood at the scene. And it’s just…” Baylie
grimaced. “I know you’re fine. You’re here, you’re fine, and I’m
probably being ridiculous. But with that happening and with you out
there on your own… I got worried.”

I hesitated. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She nodded.

“And when they come back, I’ll…” I shifted
uncomfortably at the feeling of fishhooks sinking into my skin
again. “I’ll do my best not to take off.”

“Thank you.”

She gave me a small smile and then climbed
into bed.

With an answering smile that really felt more
like a grimace, I headed to my side of the room. I didn’t know what
else to tell her. Given the speed at which my parents apparently
traveled, they’d probably be here within the hour. And no matter
how much I didn’t want to break my word to Baylie, if Mom and Dad
tried to take me back with them, I didn’t know if I’d be able to
go.

The flutter of panic still lingering in my
chest might not let me leave.

With a sickened feeling twisting my stomach,
I changed into my pajamas and got into bed.

~~~~~

The sun pried my eyes open and for a moment,
I lay in the bed staring up at the skylight, trying to hold onto
the calm of my dreams. White clouds drifted past the narrow view
overhead, and occasionally a seagull would sweep by, the bird’s
passage so fast I only registered it once it was gone.

My parents would probably be here today.

If they weren’t already.

The thought frayed the last tendrils of my
calm, making me scowl and setting my heart to racing again. Pulling
my gaze from the blue sky, I shoved the blankets away and swung my
legs over the side of the mattress. My backpack yielded up a pair
of shorts and a shirt and, working desperately to keep my mind from
dwelling on the realities the day would bring, I quickly changed
into the clothes.

In the next bed, Baylie shifted beneath her
blankets and opened her eyes.

“Morning,” she said, her voice scratchy from
sleep.

“Hey.”

She drew a breath and then pushed the
blankets back. “Sleep good?”

I shrugged. I’d spent the night not-drowning
beneath miles of ocean, same as every other time I’d fallen asleep
recently. It’d been wonderful and I’d never wanted to wake up.

And I hoped recurring dreams weren’t a sign
of madness too.

“Okay,” I replied. “You?”

She nodded and grabbed her clothes from her
own bag. I turned away, giving her privacy to get dressed.

“I was wondering,” she continued when she was
finished. “You want to head into town for some shopping? Maddox got
a job at this cool old bookstore I wanted to show you.”

I grinned. Bookstores were a weakness of
mine, and the older the better. Over the years, stopping at them
had been one of the few bright points on the absurd trips my
parents had taken. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Sweet,” she said, smiling.

Tossing her pajamas back into her bag, she
headed for the stairs, leaving me to follow.

The smell of breakfast permeated the first
floor and the sound of the morning news carried from the end of the
hall. Sunlight filled the dining room with the pearlescent glow
that only morning possessed, and as we walked into the kitchen, the
fresh sea air from the open windows joined the scent of baking.

But standing by the kitchen island, one hand
to her mouth and her eyes locked on the countertop television,
Diane seemed to see none of it.

I paused, and next to me, Baylie did the
same. My gaze went from Diane to the screen, the words and images
finally registering. A pair of scanned photographs were placed
side-by-side, each of a different teenage girl with reddish-brown
hair. Headlines about kidnappings played across the bottom of the
screen, as well as a ticker displaying snippets of commentary from
the police. The newscaster was listing off locations the girls had
last been seen, one by the pier and the other in a neighborhood
near the oceanfront, and asking anyone with information to call the
hotline below.

“They could be sisters,” Baylie
whispered.

Diane jumped at the sound and then clicked
off the television before turning around. “Girls. You’re up.”

She sounded breathless, and looked it too.
Swallowing, she scanned her kitchen as though trying to remember
what she’d been doing. “You want breakfast?”

“There’s another girl missing?” Baylie
asked.

Diane hesitated. “Yes.”

“Was it like the last one? Did it look like
she’d been hurt?”

“How did you–”

“I heard you and Peter in the front room last
night, talking about what your reporter friend said.”

Diane grimaced. “Marlene called half an hour
ago. She wanted Peter to ask the commissioner to speak with her.
But… yes. They think it’s the same people who took the last
girl.”

Baylie looked away.

Drawing a breath, Diane headed for the oven.
“We’ll just have to keep our eyes out for anything suspicious,” she
said, her assured tone sounding more than a bit forced, “and hope
the police find some leads. But in the meantime… breakfast.”

Retrieving a tray of scones, she set about
transferring them to a cooling rack with a determination like she
was restoring order to the world by that action alone. Beside me,
Baylie looked like her appetite had long since fled, and I didn’t
feel far behind. But with the food presented to us, and Diane’s
almost adamant expression urging us on, we forced ourselves to
eat.

Diane hovered nearby the entire time, as if
worried someone would come into the kitchen to steal us away.

“You still want to go shopping?” I whispered
to Baylie as Diane walked over to the sink with our empty
plates.

“What?” Diane interrupted, turning back to us
before Baylie could respond.

Baylie winced. “We were thinking of going to
the bookstore where Maddox works.”

Diane’s gaze slid toward the black screen of
the television, and something in her expression made me wonder what
else Marlene had told her.

Baylie didn’t seem to notice it, though.
“We’ll be careful,” she insisted. “Please, Diane? We’ll drive
straight there and back again. He just told me about it yesterday,
and I wanted to show Chloe the place before she had to head
home.”

Still looking hesitant, Diane set the plates
in the sink.

“Have my parents called?” I asked into the
silence. Whether or not Diane agreed to let us go, if they were
only a few miles away, it’d all be a moot point.

“No, not yet.”

My brow furrowed. “Really?”

“I’d feel better if you girls stayed here,”
Diane continued instead of answering.

“It’s just a short trip,” Baylie argued.
“We’ll bring Daisy, I’ve got pepper spray, and we won’t talk to
anyone but Maddox.” She paused. “Please, Diane? This freaks me out
too. Really. But we’ll be super careful and if we stay here hiding
all day, it’s just going to drive me nuts.”

“I–”

Diane looked over as Noah walked into the
kitchen.

“Morning,” he said, and then he paused as if
he’d picked up on the tension in the room. “Everything okay?”

“You can go if you take Noah with you,” Diane
said to Baylie.