Dreams (Sarah Midnight Trilogy 1) (26 page)

They took the bus back. It was full of students like them, chatting and laughing. Sarah was looking around nervously, watching for anything uncanny. The people around her looked so carefree. Young. As she should have been.

The life that should have been mine.

They went to Alpino’s to get fish and chips, and walked up to Gateside Road. It was dark already, a cold, misty autumn night. Jack walked beside her, and with a subtle, quick gesture, he took her hand.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. He doesn’t seem to get the message!

Sarah blushed, and slipped her hand out of his. She hurried beside Bryony, pretending it had never happened.

In spite of her apprehension, it was a lovely night. Sarah felt a million miles away from her crazy life, away from her dreams, the Surari, the Valaya. She felt like a girl having fun, a
normal
girl.

They were all on Bryony’s sofas – Alice, Leigh, Jack, and Kate and Olivia, Bryony’s sisters. Sarah had managed to slip between Alice and Leigh, so that she wouldn’t have to sit beside Jack. Even Bryony’s mum, a sweet, maternal woman, joined them for a while. Mrs McPherson always had a thought and a word for Sarah.

“How are you, pet? You know you’re always welcome here,” she said, stroking her face.

“Thank you, Mrs McPherson,” said Sarah gratefully.
Imagine having a mum like this, a family like this …

Mrs McPherson had prepared a huge amount of popcorn, and the creamiest, most decadent chocolate cake Sarah had ever tasted. They watched three horror DVDs, one after the other. Zombies followed vampires, and then it was the turn of a serial killer with a scary mask. The girls were
oohing
and
aahing
in fear, Sarah was joining in, pretending to be scared too. Her own life was a lot more frightening.

“I really have to go now,” she said after the serial killer in the scary mask had finally been slain.

“I’ll ask my dad to drive you.” Bryony got up.

“No need, I’ll phone Harry.” She had had a wonderful time, but she was looking forward to getting into Harry’s Bravo, and then home, the two of them in the living room, chatting in peace. She’d missed him. And she had to finish her daily cello practice, anyway.

Ten minutes after Sarah’s call, Harry knocked at the McPherson door.

“That was quick!”

He was here already, that’s why.

“Thank you, Bryony!” Sarah hugged her friends, while Harry was chatting with Mrs McPherson. Sarah slipped behind him and out into the night, before Jack could try and hug her too.

Just like she’d imagined, getting into the Bravo was lovely. It was warm, comfortable and it smelled good.

“Thanks for watching over me,” she said with a smile.

“Did you have fun?”
With Jack?
Harry wanted to add, but restrained himself.

“It was great.”

“They seem a nice bunch of people.”

“Yes. We’ve all known each other since we were children.”

“Jack, too?” He paused. “Is he special?” Harry tried to sound casual, but he was dying to hear the answer.

Sarah shook her head. Bryony, Alice, Leigh and all her friends fell in love once a month, and changed boyfriends like they changed outfits. Especially Bryony, who had such a cheery, sunny attitude to love and dating – she saw it all as a big game. Sarah, on the other hand, had never fallen for anyone; she’d never had a boyfriend, a serious one. And she had never been kissed.

She didn’t like talking about those things. She thought that if she’d said she was waiting for the right person they’d laugh at her, like she had fancied herself some damsel from old times. Like she didn’t belong here, now.

“I’m waiting for the right person. Like my mum waited for my dad.” She immediately regretted her answer. He was going to laugh. He was going to make a joke of it.

“It’s a good plan,” said Harry. Sarah’s heart flew away, like a butterfly in a blue sky.
He understands
.

“Is there anyone that you think might be the right one?” He kept his eyes on the road, as if what he had just asked didn’t matter much, just small talk.

Leaf? I never felt that way before. I was never even remotely interested in anyone before. He makes me feel … like I’m floating. He makes me feel like there’s nobody else in the world but us. When he’s around, I could forget my own name …

And still …

Harry
. Her cousin.
Stop it!

“No.”

Harry felt immensely relieved, and then immensely sad. The person she was waiting for could never be him. Unless he told her the truth.

They spent the rest of their evening like Sarah had hoped, in the living room, with a dancing fire and the delicate light of a table lamp. Harry sipped a whisky, lost in thought, and Sarah watched the flames.

“I need to finish my daily practice.”

“Is it OK if I listen?”

“Of course.”

Harry loved hearing Sarah playing. The dark, melancholic sound of her cello was like an echo of his own thoughts, as if he were hearing the music of his soul. As if he were looking in a mirror. Also, Sarah was beautiful when she played. Focused, her eyes closed, graceful movements, her hair flowing like waves. It worked on Harry like a spell.

When she’d finished, she sighed. She would have rather stayed where she was, in her own little music bubble, immune to the reality of her life.

“What shall I do now? I’m trying not to go to sleep.”

“I know. I’ll be awake anyway, don’t worry.”

“You need to sleep, once in a while.”

“I never sleep.”

“You’re not a vampire, are you?” laughed Sarah.

“I know it’s
the
thing to be at the moment, but no, sorry to disappoint!”

“Werewolf?

“No.”

“Fallen angel?”

“Nope.”

“A boring, old human being then.”

“That’s me.” They laughed.

They were silent for a bit, Sarah looking out of the window, leaning her head on her cello, and Harry looking at her.

“John Burton, the next name on the list,” he whispered after a while.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Sarah opened her eyes. Like she had predicted, the dream had come. She was standing in a sea of heather, and an icy wind howled in her ears. She looked up – a milky, white sky was above her, not the purple surreal one of the place she had been seeing in her dreams recently. She realized she was standing on a little round hill. The heathery moors seemed to go on forever, creasing up in more of those little mounds. She was cold, wearing only shorts and a T-shirt, her feet bare. She shivered.

Sarah waited. Someone would turn up, something would happen.
Let it be Leaf. Let it be Leaf and not a demon
, she prayed silently.

A figure took shape in the distance, running towards her. Sarah waited for it to come closer, so that she could make out who it was … a girl. A red-haired girl. Bryony? No, the girl’s hair was long and straight.

“Sarah! Help!” Sarah steeled herself to stay still, waiting to see if she was friend or foe.

“Sarah!” The girl was getting closer and closer, and Sarah could make out her features. She’d seen her somewhere before.

“Help!”

Of course, Angela! Angela Cunningham! She’d gone to Sarah’s primary school for a year, then her family had moved away. Sarah hadn’t seen her for years.

Angela was now standing right in front of her. She was breathless with the run, and tears were streaming down her face. She looked terrified. “They’re coming to get me!” she whispered.

“Who? Who’s coming to get you?”

“The soil people. Only you can save me, Sarah …”

“Soil people? Where are they? Where are
we
, Angela?” she thought to ask, so she’d know where to find her.

“Roslin. Hillside. Sarah!” A white hand had come out of the grass, and had curled around Angela’s ankle – a hand that had sprouted from the earth, like in one of the horror movies she’d seen at Bryony’s. Angela screamed in terror.

Sarah threw herself on the ground and grabbed the ghostly hand, trying to dissolve it with blackwater – but it didn’t work. Another hand grabbed Angela’s leg, and started pulling her down, underground.

Angela kept screaming and calling, out of her mind with terror, and Sarah took hold of her, trying to keep her on the surface – but it was no use; the white hands were too strong, they pulled and pulled until Angela was underground from the waist down.

“Angela! Angela!” Sarah was crying too now. She knew there was nothing she could do. She watched Angela being dragged down, still screaming and crying for help, until her mouth was full of soil and she couldn’t call any more. Her red hair lingered on the surface for a few seconds, one of her hands desperately feeling for something to hold on to – Sarah held it for an instant, until it disappeared under the ground.

“Angela,” she called again, though she knew it was no use. The only sound left now was Sarah’s heavy, frightened breathing. She knew what would happen next.

Then something brushed Sarah’s right foot, and she knew they had come back for her. She jumped up as fast as she could, and scanned the ground around her feet, waiting to spot a white hand coming out of the ground. She hugged herself in the cold wind, shaking uncontrollably. It was her turn; she’d be dragged down now, her mouth would fill with soil like Angela’s …

They’re coming. They’re coming for me.

Finally, the white hand appeared and curled around her ankle. Sarah screamed and tried to free herself, but the creature’s grip was too strong. She felt a hand grabbing her other ankle too, and she lost her balance, falling in to the heather.

A face emerged from the soil, a human face, but mortally pale. The creature leaned on its arms to climb out completely, and jumped on Sarah, holding her down. Its face was so close that she could smell its rotten breath. It opened its mouth and sank its teeth into Sarah’s shoulder with all its strength. Sarah yelled with pain and fear, and felt blood pouring down her arm …

Sarah opened her eyes in the darkness. The pain was unbearable.

“Sarah!” Harry burst through the door and switched on the light. He never knew if Sarah was screaming because of a dream, or because a demon was attacking. He was living on a knife’s edge, his nerves frayed, his insomnia worse than ever.

“Harry!” She felt her shoulder. It was wet. She looked at her hand, expecting it to be full of blood, but it was just sweat. Still, it ached as if she’d been bitten for real.

Harry sat on her bed and took both her hands in his. “It’s OK. It’s over. There’s nobody here, just you and me …” He looked her in the eye and whispered to her, to lead her out of her terror. Sarah was trembling all over, and she was desperately trying to take a breath. Harry thought once more how heavy a burden the Dreamers had to carry.

“What did you see?” he asked, when she had calmed a little.

“This girl I knew, Angela. We went to school together …” Sarah put her hand on her chest, trying to slow down her racing heart. “She was asking for help. There was a sort of … a sort of zombie coming out of the earth, like
Night of the Living Dead
or something. It dragged her underground right in front of my eyes. I tried to pull her back up, but I couldn’t. It dragged her down … Then it came back, it came out of the earth and bit my shoulder.”

“Do you know where you were?”

“Somewhere near Roslin, a few miles from here. She was so scared. She asked for my help, and I couldn’t help her.” Sarah’s eyes were huge. Harry squeezed her hand tight.“I need to look for her. She needs me. Maybe I can save her.”

“Sarah, not now. You can’t do this now. We’ve got the Valaya after us. We can’t be distracted.”

“Distracted?” Sarah was so upset, she could hardly turn her thoughts into words. “The demon dragged her underground. She couldn’t breathe! She kept calling me …”

“You’re just putting yourself in danger. As if we needed more of that!”

“I need to take the risk. I have to.”

Harry sighed. “Let’s think about it tomorrow morning. Get some sleep now …”

Sarah shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

She nodded.

“OK.” Harry went out of the room, and reappeared a minute later with his duvet and a pillow. He switched the light off, and arranged the duvet on the floor, wrapping himself in it.

“I’m so comfortable … not.”

Had she not been so terrified, Sarah would have laughed.

Deep in my soul, where it’s dark

I’ll meet you in secret

Away from their eyes

Away from the light

Where our kisses

Cannot be counted

“Are you ready?” asked Harry.

“I’m not going to look for John Burton, Harry. I’m going to Roslin.” Sarah was wearing jeans, trainers and her black waterproof jacket, with the cream scarf wrapped twice around her neck. She had a black, leather-bound volume in her hands.