Harbinger (13 page)

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Authors: Sara Wilson Etienne

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Love & Romance, #Fantasy & Magic

BOOK: Harbinger
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I would teach my feet to fly.
Straight up into the hot sky.

15

 

THAT NIGHT,
Maya and I stayed up talking. Our voices bounced quietly from bed to bed. The volley of words helping us stay awake.

Despite Zach’s totally plausible theory of alien abduction, by the end of Free Time our group had come up with a plan. We just wouldn’t go to sleep, thus putting an end to this weirdness.

Then there’d been a whole futile discussion about how to deal with the drugs. It didn’t surprise me that most of us had tried the hide-it-under-the-tongue maneuver, with equal amounts of failure. Of course, Nami had taken it a step further, throwing up the pill right after lights-out. But evidently a Taker, patrolling the halls, overheard her and Nurse came in with a double dose. Only Zach admitted that he’d willingly let himself be drugged, mumbling something to us about needing to feel calm.

Since we didn’t have a solution for the drugs, we weren’t sure staying up would work. But we hoped at least one of us would make it through the night.

That was the plan, at least. But I had one of my own.

“So,” Maya’s voice whispered through the dark. “What’d Kel have to say that was so important?”

“What?” I kept my voice steady.
How much did she hear about Kel’s Holbrook “tour”?

“Come on. I saw you guys during Free Time. Everyone saw you. Whispering to each other and making moony eyes.”

I let out my breath. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want her to know about Kel’s discovery.

No. I did know why. It was the same reason that I didn’t want to talk about the drawings on the floor. Or ask Kel about his gloves and sweatshirt. These new friendships were tenuous and fragile. If my Family knew about everything, the music up on the rooftop, the crazy water hallucinations, the symbols I’d drawn on the floor . . . would they still trust me? I couldn’t go back to being an outcast.

And there was another reason. One I didn’t want to admit to myself. There was this new feeling at the center of my chest. A secret thrill when I thought about Kel. I didn’t want to do anything, say anything, that would make that go away.

“Fine. Don’t answer me. But don’t pretend you’re so innocent.”

Maya kept up the soft chatter, moving on to analyzing Damion and Nami’s flirtation. I tried to make the appropriate responses as I thought back to what Kel had said about his foray to the Compass Rose. He hadn’t said how he’d gotten in or how he’d found his stuff—or my stuff, for that matter. But he
had
found what they’d taken from him. He’d gotten in and discovered the symbol. And so could I.

Then Maya’s words stopped and I glanced over to see if she was asleep. But instead, she was staring up at the ceiling. She must have felt my eyes on her, because she started talking again in this quiet, tentative voice, so different from her usual aggressive tones.

“I’m scared. I mean, I know it’s not really vampires or anything, but . . . Faye, something awful is going on, isn’t it? I’m remembering these little bits of things, but it’s not like a dream. It’s . . . it’s like how I remember the first time my stepdad cornered me. Everything comes back in these ugly flashes. His hand on my arm. The streetlamp making thin strips of light on the carpet. My cat hissing and fluffing himself up as big as he could get. And then nothing. It’s like that.”

I didn’t know what to say. Not about the hell she’d gone through. Or about what was going on now. I grasped at the same pitiful words that hadn’t even worked the first night. “I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s what my stepdad’s gonna be.” Her voice had its edge back. “But thanks.”

I didn’t want to, but I had to ask. “Maya, what kind of things
are
you remembering?”

“Like I said, nothing solid . . . more like déjà vu.” She propped herself up on her elbow so she could look at me. Moonlight filtered in through the window, and I could just make out her face. “Like today, when I was painting that tree, there was this strong smell. Spruce and salt. And there was this sudden rush. Like there was more there than I was seeing.”

I’d felt that way my whole life. Like there was an invisible layer under everything that only I could sense. Maybe I wasn’t crazy.

“It was like I knew every tree and bush and weed growing in that forest. Like I belonged to it.” Maya’s face shone as she told me about the experience. It outshone her too-thin body and her sharp face. Making her beautiful. “No. It was like that place belonged to me.”

Maya dropped back on her pillow, looking up at the ceiling. Then, her voice small again, she said, “Then the feeling left and I was just me again.”

She fell quiet, but this time, she squeezed her eyes shut. After a few minutes, her soft snores filled the room. Time to get some answers. And not just for me anymore.

I reached down and grabbed my boots out from under the bed. The brush pen slipped out and rolled across the linoleum. Grabbing it, I thought of the big suitcase my parents had packed. Kel could’ve picked out any of that other stuff to give me. But he hadn’t.

He’d brought me my pen. Kel had known exactly what I’d want.

Tears welled in my eyes as I tied my shoes. I was so tired, and Holbrook had taken so much from me. My sketchbook, my clothes, my freedom. I clutched the pen in my fist and pushed open the window. Parts of me might be missing, but I wasn’t lost.

I’d find out what was going on in this place. What the drawings were about. And the music. And Maya’s déjà vu. I wasn’t waiting around anymore.

Leaving my pen on the ledge for safekeeping, I climbed out through the window like I had the first night. From my perch on the ledge, I counted four Takers guarding the dorms. Two of them made constant patrols around the building. Blood sounded in my ears as I counted how long it took them to make their circuit. Eighty-two seconds.

Unfortunately, that still left two of them in the courtyard at all times, sweeping the dark corners with their flashlights. I racked my brain for usable schemes, but all I could come up with were bad movie stunts. Throwing a rock at the other side of the courtyard? Yelling “Fire”? Tackling one of them from above?

Then the solution appeared all on its own. A muffled grunt came from the guys’ side of the dorm. The door swung open and Freddy appeared, hauling out a kid in handcuffs.

“I don’t care what the bastard said to you and it don’t matter, ’cause he’s coming too.” Freddy’s growl drowned out the boy’s pleading.

A second boy was hauled out right behind them. I didn’t recognize either of them. Suddenly the second boy turned on the Taker and swung, clocking the guard in the jaw. Freddy and the other Takers ran over to help.

I didn’t waste any more time. I crossed the ledge and went down the ladder. This time, the bottom part slid easily to the ground. The padlock was warped and twisted, like it’d been melted, but I didn’t have time to figure out how. I shoved the bottom section of the ladder back up and hid in the shadow of the building.

Nurse came out and her sharp voice cut across the chaos. “Let’s see what they do to each other in Solitary. There’s nothing like being locked in the dark together for a little conflict resolution.”

One of the kids yelled something. I sprinted around the corner and into the woods. As soon as I was a safe distance away, I made myself throw up in the bushes. Getting rid of whatever bit of medicine wasn’t already in my bloodstream. Then I headed down to the Compass Rose to get some answers.

It was dark under the trees. I knew where I was going now, but they still towered over me, their arms blocking out the night sky. I felt them moving around me, great beings creaking and moaning.

Crack.

A twig snapped behind me and I dropped to the ground. I crouched in a layer of pine needles and dirt, watching, listening. The musty scent of decaying leaves and growing things surrounded me. A spider crawled up my leg, tickling me as it ducked under the cuff of my jumpsuit. The low moan of a tanker’s horn quivered through me. Crickets sang of heat and sex.

I was ready to get up when I heard it again.

Crack! And then heavy footsteps.

I tried to stay still. As they got closer, my brain screamed for me to run. I leapt out of the bushes and took off down the hill.

The person was right behind me, gaining on me, my breath wheezing in time with their steps. I zigzagged through the trees, trying to lose them, knowing I was running out of space between me and the Compass Rose. My pulse shrieked in my ears.
Faster!
But the trees thinned, and I knew I was out of luck.

I skidded to a stop and spun around. Ready to face whoever was there. But there was no one. The dark woods were silent except for the thud of my heart.

They were gone.

My throat squeezed with fear, but I tried to shake it off. To concentrate on making it into the Compass Rose. Flood lamps created a moat of light around the building. Since there weren’t any guards, I guessed there must be motion sensors or something.

The huge tree out front grew halfway in and halfway out of the circle of light. And its branches stretched up to the second-floor windows. If I could manage to climb up the shadowed side, I just might make it. Of course, the windows were probably locked, but I’d already come this far.

I sprinted to the big tree and grabbed a low-hanging limb. Swinging myself up, I monkeyed up the trunk, staying out of the light. Then I felt my way through the branches till I was sitting high in the shadows.

The smooth bark was warm to the touch, as though blood flowed through its limbs. The tree swayed under me, and I wondered if it would pull its roots from the ground and walk off into the darkness.

The flood of energy pumped through my hand, filling my mind.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
Alert and grounded, I moved along the branch toward the windows. There were three of them within reach, but somehow I knew that the farthest one was the right choice.

Keeping my eyes fixed on the window, I balanced easily, putting one hand in front of the other. The hinged window was latched, but as I touched it, I could sense the sagging weakness of the old wood. I tugged and the latch pulled free.

The window swung open and I stepped onto the sill. My other foot pushed off the tree branch and, as I tumbled through the window, exhaustion swept over me. I landed in a heap on the floor, feeling drained and empty. I must not have gotten all the medicine out of my system in time.

I staggered to my feet, feeling even more overwhelmed as I saw where I was. The room was dully lit by little brass lamps hanging over framed diplomas. I was in Dr. Mordoch’s office.

Then again, maybe I was lucky. Maybe I could find my sketchbook. Kel said he’d found his guitar pick in here, but he hadn’t said where. There was only her oak desk, the wall of filing cabinets, and the leather chairs for visitors. I didn’t see anywhere she could keep a hundred students’ earthly possessions.

The shadows and dim lights were disorienting. So I just started opening doors, hoping I’d stumble onto something. The first door, leading out into the hallway, was unlocked, but a skeleton key stuck out of the keyhole.
So much for high security.
Dr. Mordoch must be pretty cocky about the quality of her knockout pills and Takers.

Another door led to a tiny closet stocked with office supplies. The third door opened on an enormous coatroom full of suitcases and plastic bins.
Bingo.

There weren’t any windows in here, so I shut the door behind me and turned on the light. Bright yellow tags were stuck to everything. “Martinez, Frederick.” “Johnson, Zach.” Dr. Mordoch might be bogarting everyone’s stuff, but at least she was well organized.

I quickly found my bag. My mom had obviously been the one who’d packed my suitcase. My nice pair of jeans. Shirts I hated and never wore. A Tinkerbell watch. But no sketchbook.

I dumped everything out and checked again. Nothing. I looked around for a bin with my name on it.

Instead, I found Kel’s. I peeked inside his bin, but there wasn’t much. A broken steel guitar string. Two quarters. Ginger Altoids. And a smooth gray rock. He must’ve had this stuff in his pocket when they’d dragged him to Holbrook. I opened the Altoids tin and there was just one left. I smiled.

Like he left it for me.
I put the chalky yellow candy in my mouth. It was sharp and sweet, making my eyes water.

I couldn’t find anything else with my name on it, so I headed back to the main office to keep looking for my sketchbook.

Rummaging through the desk, I pulled out staplers, a hole puncher, a squeezy penlight with “Zoloft” written on the side, a pocket
Tao Te Ching
, an address book, and a few loose keys. No sketchbook.

The filing cabinets were the only other place I could think of. With the help of the penlight, I tried the small keys in the cabinet’s lock. The second one fit and all three drawers popped open, revealing rows and rows of alphabetical files. Dr. Mordoch had pulled my file from the bottom drawer, but I didn’t look there right away. Because halfway back in the top drawer, my eyes caught on the label “Fujita, Nami.”

I hesitated for a second, then pulled out the manila folder. Her application had been filled out by the Nihonjinron Cooperative, her parents signing off at the bottom. Under “Reason for Application” was a list of Nami’s offenses. She’d been caught sneaking out at night to play shows with her band in the city. She was also accused of smoking pot and sexual promiscuity. Bad, but not that bad. Then, reading the final deadly sin, I understood why she’d been sent to Holbrook. “Disregards cultural values.”

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