The parking lot is full by the time I pull in, and my normal spot is taken. I don’t want to park at the outer edges where anyone, or a certain someone, can attack me, so I park in one of the open spots beside Sophia’s red convertible toward the front. Bought with her father’s money, of course. I’ve heard Sophia’s friends say that he buys her off to make up for never visiting. Sophia always demands that the spaces on either side of the car to be empty so no one scratches the flawless paint job. How thrilled she’ll be to see my tank by her precious car.
I’m through the front doors, just a few feet away from my locker and moments away from class, when I’m spotted through the office window.
“Elizabeth?” Sally Morrison shoves the door open and stands there in her perfect clothes, with all her good intentions, staring at me. I slowly turn. Her eyes are so sad as she keeps looking at me, waiting for me to say something. She really does want to help. I clutch my bag tightly.
The counselor sighs after another moment. “Do you want to come into my office?” she asks, motioning for me to walk before her. I do, remaining silent.
Together, we enter the room we’re both so familiar with. Sally shuts the door quietly and takes her normal seat, smoothing her skirt. Again, the woman gives me an opportunity to talk first, but I don’t take it.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Sally sits back, sighing. She doesn’t expect the truth. She’s waiting for another lie, like I’ve given her every other time I’ve been in here. Her crossed legs and her shiny shoes hold all my attention as I think.
Sally waits. She doesn’t speak or even glance at the clock. Finally, finally, after we’ve been silent for ten minutes in this tiny room of hope and pain and lies, I give Sally Morrison my first truth. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I have nothing left but this.
“Remember that day in your office? The bruises?” I ask. She just continues to wait. So I finally tell her, “A cow didn’t kick me in the face.”
Twenty-One
The only unchanged variable in my new life is Joshua. He calls every night, walks me to my classes. As time goes on, though, he stops insisting on giving me rides. He begins to believe that I’m safe again. Tim is still mysteriously missing, and I haven’t seen or heard from Nightmare. But I know it’s a lie, this delusion of peace.
He’s coming.
Fear still hasn’t made an appearance. When I think of him, I experience a twinge in my gut. Worry, trying to claw free of the illusion.
On Wednesday morning, a week after Sally Morrison called me into her office, I pull into the school parking lot. The sky is gray, the wind dismal. Winter, a striking Element with white eyelashes and blue lips, is on her way. I remove the key from the ignition and drop it in my jacket pocket. Through the windshield, I watch the kids walking by, chatting. All of them are secure in who they are and where they stand. If it weren’t for the illusion that still holds on, I think I’d be jealous.
Joshua is waiting on the front steps of the school. I see him before he sees me, and I hop out of my truck, watching him. His bright eyes scan the crowd climbing up the steps, and when he can’t find me, his gaze expands out to the lot to pick out everyone in the clusters by their cars. He’s so kind, so good, and I know that the best thing to do—the right thing to do—would be to free him. Even if the illusion does fully break, even if I do come out of this alive … he’s only a beautiful idea.
Just like Fear. Who must be enjoying Rebecca’s ministrations. Since I haven’t heard from either of them, they must have reached the happily ever after they’ve been denied all these years.
Thinking this, my stomach tight, I shoulder my bag and start toward Joshua.
“So it’s Elizabeth now, correct?” a voice breathes in my ear. A beat later it adds, “It’s time.”
My spine stiffens and I stop in my tracks. Tyler Bentley gives me an annoyed glance as he passes. He doesn’t see the urgent message in my eyes. I open my mouth—
“I wouldn’t do that, Elizabeth. Ah, don’t turn around, please. What are you going to do, call the sheriff? Tell one of your teachers? None of them can see me, and you’d look like a hysterical schoolgirl. And then you’d have the boy’s blood on your hands. Wouldn’t want that now, would you? Start walking.”
He means Joshua. He’s threatening Joshua. I obey, my gait halting as I begin the trek across the parking lot. “You’re not going to touch him,” I say through my teeth.
Nightmare laughs quietly. He’s following me, moving with the group around us as if he belongs. He’s still leaning over my shoulder when he warns, “Then I suggest you stay quiet.” Before I can say anything more, my hair is stirred by a sudden breeze and Nightmare is gone.
But I can feel him nearby. Even when Joshua spots me, smiling soothingly as his warm palm cups mine, I can sense the chill of Nightmare’s presence.
Between classes, I pass him in the hallway and his strong scent—blood, darkness, hunger—assails my senses. Our eyes meet, blue against that infinite black, and then I look away, acting as if I can just wish him into oblivion. He turns as he passes to keep those eyes on me. He’s playing a game of cat-and-mouse, toying with me before he makes his final move.
Yet Nightmare still doesn’t attack. Even when I notice him behind some shelves in the library, watching me and Joshua study, even when he passes the doorway to one of my classes and winks at me.
It’s one of the slowest days I’ve ever experienced. At the end of it, Joshua kisses me on the cheek. “I have to go home real quick,” he tells me. “But I’ll swing by your place later, okay? Make sure you’re never alone.”
His concern causes more spasms in my wall, more digging in the hole.
Sophia, for once, ignores me when I pass her group. She’s been acting this way ever since the town found out about Tim—instead of mockery and pranks, she now pretends I don’t exist. It’s the best she can do, I suppose. Sally doesn’t talk about any of it, of course, but my brother does. Some of Sophia’s friends see me and look away. Most with guilt.
At the end of the day, I get into my truck with no trouble from Nightmare. Get on the road. On my way home. Back to Charles. Safety is only a few miles away.
And then he appears in the back of my truck, his eyes gleaming back at me in the rearview mirror. I slam the gas pedal all the way down, intending to knock him off balance and leave him behind in a cloud of billowing gravel.
Pop. One of the tires explodes beneath me.
Now I smash on the brakes, open the door, and fly out of the driver’s seat, heading for a field to my left just through a line of trees. I don’t bother checking to see what’s ruined the tire. Nightmare expected it to happen; he’s already disappeared. I’m a blur through the trees. There’s no way he can possibly catch me. Where is he? I turn …
… and he wraps his hand around my throat.
“Sleep,” he purrs. His grip tightens, just barely. A fierce desire to curl up and succumb to darkness creeps over me. I fight it but my eyelids are so heavy, as if my eyelashes are made of iron. Somehow, I manage to lurch away from the Element and stumble in the opposite direction, back toward my truck. I hear Nightmare sigh impatiently. “Fine, have it your way.” When I glance back, a gun materializes in his hand. Not real, not real, I tell myself in a daze, staggering.
A sharp pain billows through my shoulder and down my back. I gasp, faltering, and as I do so he shoots again, another bullet slamming into my lower back. Colors swim before me and unbearable waves of heat spread through my body. I stumble to my knees, rendered helpless. For a shivering instant time stands still. Then I drop, landing face-first into the dirt.