Authors: Cheryl McIntyre
“Is it any easi
er to believe that Bryon or
Dustin would?”
He takes her hand as she moves in front of him. Keely is taken aback by the casual way he does this. Like it is second nature to him. Like he does it all the time. She sta
res at his bowed
head. H
er
own
h
ead
confused.
For so long she has been afraid of men. Scared to let them touch her. Really, she was frightened to allow anyone to get that close. Now here is this boy, touc
hing her so delicately
.
She may very well die at any moment. Someone may try to ki
ll her—again. In spite of that,
or maybe
because
of that,
Keely finds
she
is
no longer afraid.
Right at this moment, nothing scares her. Not the fact that she is on the top of everyone’s hit list. Not her father. Not her brothers. And especially not this incredible boy hold
ing her hand. Something in this
gesture stirs lost emotions
inside of her. Add that to the many thing
s he has done for her
or the c
ountless times he’
s saved her. T
his boy is
willing to put himself and his
job that is more than a job,
more than a family business
,
on the line for her.
“
No. Not easier
,” Nick says. He looks up and is caught off guard by the expression on Keely’s fac
e. He has watched her for a long time
and that is a look he has never seen
her wear before. “Keely? Are you-
”
But Nick doesn’t get a chance to ask his question. Keely
crushes herself into him. Her body against his
body
. Her mouth against his
mouth
.
Her h
ands are on his neck, s
liding
into his hair. Nick hesitates for only a moment. Just long enough to remind himself there is no more of the Leech Demon in her. This is the action of Keely herself. He kisses her back. His hands lock into the thick waves of her hair.
For a moment, they both forget. There is only each other.
It is over too quickly
. The buzzing of Keely’s cell phone causes them to pull away. Keely’s lips tingle as she pries the phone from her pocket and checks the caller I.D.
“It’s my mom’s number.” She
pushes the speaker button and holds it between them. “Hello?”
“Keely? Oh thank God. Thank God you’re all right.”
Keely’s hand shakes. “Mom?”
“I’m here, b
aby.
I haven’t been given a lot of time. I
was told I
have
to give you a message. You’re supposed
to
go to
Pandor
a this Friday.
”
Nick shakes his head. Drops his eyes. He can’t look at the confusion and hope on Keely’s face.
“What time
does he want me there
?”
Nick’s head je
rks back up to look at her
. She can’t poss
ibly
be considering actually going.
After a moment’s hesitation, Keely’s mother replies dryly, “He says e
ight O’
clock. He says d
on’
t be late
.”
“I won’t be late, Mom. I promise. How is Daddy? Is he o.k.?”
“He’s fine. He’s right here.”
Keely closes her eyes, relieved.
“Can I talk to him?”
After a
long
moment, as Keely is
beginning to think her mom lied, when she is
losing
hope that her dad is really all right
, he speaks softly into the phone. “Keels?
Are you there
, H
oney?
How are you holding up?”
“I’
m o.k. Daddy. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Yours too
, H
oney.” She can hear him breathing into the phone. It’s the most wonderful sound.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too kiddo. Keels
? You walk the dog.
”
Kee
ly is silent for a second
. Goosebumps raise across her arms
as tears sting her eyes. “O.k.
Daddy. I’ll walk
him.”
“Good
girl
Keels. I love you so much.”
She inhales a trembling breath. “I love you too.”
Before the line goes dead, there is a crisp, deep voice on the other end. Not her father’s
gentle intonation. “Friday,
”
Apophis says.
The cell phone swims in front of Keely as she stares at it though her tears. Nick pulls it from her fingers and presses the end button. “Keely…”
She slides off his lap. Sits on the floor. Doesn’t want to talk to Nick right now. All that fear she wasn’t feeling minutes ago is now back. She is drowning in it. Remembers she hasn’t had her pills. Standing up so quickly makes her head spin. She pushes past it and moves to her back pack. Kneels heavily in front of it.
“You can’t go. It’s a set up. You have to know that.”
Keely rolls her eyes as she rummages through the bag for her medicine bottle. “I know it’s a trap.”
“S
o you understand that you can’t
go?”
She picks up the
bag
and flips it, dumping everything out. “I have to go, Nick.”
Nick shakes his head.
Stupid, reckless girl
. “You’re not going.” He begins to pace behind her. “What are you looking for?”
Keely has shaken every single last thing from the bag and is now flicking through the pile. “My medicine.”
“You don’t need it.”
“Yes I do,
”
she cries.
Nick stops, startled by the desperation in her voice. Moves to his knees beside her. Begins pushing her belongings back inside the book bag. “No, you don’t.”
“You don’t have the first clue as to
what I do and do not need, Nicholas
Wallace.” She glares at him. All her anger focused on him at the moment.
“I know you do not need those pills. I know that you have been doing perfectly fine without them.”
“Do I look fine to you?” Her hands are in fists. The tears finally spill over. Slide down her cheeks.
“You look scared.”
“I am scared.”
“We will figure something out. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I’m not worried about me. I’m scared for my parents.
” She is more than scared. She is terrified she will
never see them again. “After the attack, I was scared of everything. My dad and I went over several different scenarios
. T
hings I could do in the future to keep me safe
. Mostly he had turned it into a joke trying to make me
feel better.
During that time, we had come up with a code
, like you do with little kids when a different adult picks them up or something
. It was all stupid at the time. Neither of us ever thought we would really use it.
Take out the trash if everything was all right. Walk the dog if it wasn’t.” She gazes at Nick. “He told me to walk
the dog
.”
“Then we walk.” Nick crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“I can’t, Nick. I can’t just walk away. I’m going Friday. I’m going to do whatever it takes to ensure my parents safety.
” She closes her eyes. She does
n’t expect to come ba
ck with her parents. But it is
all for the best. Her parents will be safe and Nick will be relieved of this obligation he feels toward
s
her.
Twelve:
Silence clogs the room. Nick’s toxic mood spills over Keely. Seeps into her skin. Runs through he
r veins like poison.
Inches it
s way into her heart and fills
her full of venom. Acidic bile makes its way into her mouth, tasting of wrongness, of cold, of
fear and of pain.
It’s been hours since he has uttered a word. Keely can’t stand it a moment more.
Can’t stand him being mad at her.
She opens her notepad and begins sketching the small television. She can make out her reflection in the screen. Her features appear morphed.
Fuzzy. She imagines that
is probably fairly accurate.
Keely’s hand sweeps across the paper and the familiar
swoosh of her pencil calms her nerves.
She nearly sighs. If she didn’t have this, if she had never picked up a pencil as a child and drawn on every scrap of paper she could g
et her hands on,
she’d have nothing right now. This is it. Her one constant she can return to over and over again. Her pencils will never be angry with her. Her paper will never tell her what to do. They will never hurt her. Never abandon her. Never make her feel bad.
Nick pulls a laptop from underneath the couch a
nd opens it. Keely watches
as he crosses his legs under him and props the computer on his lap. Her cell phon
e sits ominously between them. It will never again just be a cell phone for her. It will always hold more meaning than that now. The phone on which she may have spoken to her parents for the last time.
Keely turns the page in her notebook and begins etching Nick’s profile as he bends over the computer. He has such an intense look on his face. Keely struggles to capture it because she is so busy wonderin
g what is responsible for
causing this
expression
.
Leaning nonchalantly to read over Nick’s shoulder, the explanation is clear. He has searched the number twenty-two.
Twenty-two fallen Watchers, twenty-two of their children. It is so much more than a simple number, she knows. M
any options have popped up, but one catches Keely’s eye as well as Nick’s.
Psalm 22.
Nick clicks on it and they forget
t
he
y are
angry with
each ot
her as she moves closer. He adjusts the screen for her to see as he reads.
“A cry of anguish and a song of praise. The psalm in which a crucified Jesus makes reference. Mathew 27:46; Mark 15:34.”
“Look that up.”
Nick’s fingers move, tapping at the keys. “Here. At the ninth hour, Jesus cried out w
ith a loud voice,
translated
to mean
, ‘My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?’”
“What do you think the connection is?”
“I’m not sure, but there must be one. That is too big of a coincidence. I mean, in Jesus’ case, he wasn’t for
saken. Your father, however, i
s.”
“And his children. But I was born normal. I mean, pretty much. I’m not a giant. I only have five toes on each foot.”
“
So was Asmoday. Apophis was born with the extra toes, but that’s all; though he cut them off one foot. I guess he wanted to appear normal too. Now he limps. And you weren’t exactly born normal, you’re a girl
. That’s never happened before. Eventually girls joined the l
ine, a
grandchild or great grandchil
d, but never a child of direct blood
.
You are more special than you can even understand,
Keely. You shouldn’t exist. So why? That is what I think we need to figure out. If we can get the why, then all the rest just may unravel.”
Nick grabs his binder and flips it open. He pulls a blank sheet of notebook paper out.
“Yeah. Just that little thing. No sweat.” Keely sighs in defeat.
“We need help.”
“I agree
.”
Nick pulls his cell phone from his pocket but hesitates. He knows he can rely
on
Lila, but beyond her, he isn’t sure.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just
thinking. I don’t really know who to trust with this. We need a way to figure this out without anyone else.
”
“
Yeah.
O.k. How?”
“Give me a second.
Can I see your pencil?
”
As she hands it to him, the binder slips from the couch, the contents spilling across the floor. Among Nick’s schoolwork are several of Keely’s discarded sketches from the past couple of days. Her mouth opens as if to say something, but Nick’s eyes flash, full of embarrassment, so she remains quiet. H
er hands skimming over the pages as she h
elps him pick everything up.
They’re all there. Everything she’s drawn this week. He must have been taking them from the trash cans of her classes without her knowing.