They’re suffocating me, inching closer and closer. My breathing grows ragged. I feel panic rise in my chest where it hammers out an insistent beat. No time. No time.
I see Bodog by the door, waving me forward. “Come. Now.”
“Let go,” I say, and struggle to reach the door.
“He’s going to leave. George, do something!”
Grandpa’s big hands slam against my shoulders, their weight crushing. If I don’t get away now, I never will.
“Calm down, Dylan.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze. “You can’t go. Not yet.”
I stare into his war-hardened eyes and search for something that’ll make him listen. “I know you think I’m making a mistake, but I love her like you love Grandma.”
Wyatt groans and shakes his head like being in love is something to be avoided at all costs.
I ignore him, focusing instead on Grandpa. Winning him is all that matters. “I have to go. There’s no other choice.
The room is quiet. Everyone is holding their breath, watching Grandpa. A flicker of understanding shows, and the hardened soldier relaxes. I slip around him, and he lets me go.
“George!” Grandma’s strident objection reverberates against the cabinetry.
“What?” He faces Grandma, a resigned air about him. “You heard him. How can I stop him from doing something I would do?”
“He’s not prepared! You said it yourself. Please,” she says on a sob, “you have to stop him. We’ve lost Addison. We can’t lose him, too.”
This is a no-win situation for him, and I know without a doubt which side he’s going to choose.
He heaves a heavy sigh, and I feel a big hand spin me around. I’m ready for him, and I swing. Grandpa pulls back. I miss.
I actually miss!
I spy Wyatt chuckling as he leans against the counter. Our eyes meet. His grin widens and he waves.
I’ve done what he tried to teach me not to do—underestimate my opponent. Grandpa’s old, but he’s still got moves.
I refuse to believe as Wyatt thinks, that I’ve lost my chance, and nudge the door open with my heel. If I can keep Grandpa off me for a second longer, I can outrun him. I hold up a glowing hand and warn, “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”
Grandpa’s expression changes from compassionate to outrage. “Boy, nobody threatens me.”
And in the next instant, he swings. His knuckles connect with my jaw. Bones crunch. My legs fly out from under me.
I’m already starting to lose consciousness when I reach the floor, and the kitchen goes dark.
The dream hits me in the face almost as hard as Grandpa’s punch. I jackknife straight. The forest clearing is stripped of color. Browns and grays melt together. The leaves’ edges are tipped with silver, and though they shimmer, they bring no warmth. A feeling of hopelessness presses down on this spot. I glance right and left, and then I see Kera.
I feel a tug of alarm. I never expected her to be here in this cold, barren place, sitting quietly, her knees tucked under her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs. The picture feels…wrong.
Her hair is a tangled mess and her clothes are wet and dirty. A crinkle of danger slips against my spine. A swift glance around doesn’t find anything suspicious lingering nearby. Kera looks small. Lost. With her cheek pressed against her kneecaps, she stares off into the trees. I scoot closer. Take her hand. The tips of her fingers are icy and pale. I gently rub them pink. Wherever she is, it’s freezing.
When I first met Kera, she was my dream girl, a mute fantasy relegated to the night. I still don’t know how she entered my dreams, but she saved my life back then. Even when I grew old enough to know better than to have a make-believe friend, I’d call on her and she would always be there. Always.
Little did I know back then that we were two souls destined to be together. I used to know what she was thinking. A tiny nudge, and she’d relay her heart. She has expressive eyes. Soulful.
In the last week, she’s become distant. Oddly secretive. I can feel her confusion, her need, but I can’t place the source. Her fingers suddenly tighten against mine. She’s staring at me, her violet eyes intense and rimmed with fear.
“Do you love me?” Her whisper pulses with tension.
Chills sweep my spine. An image of Mom flashes in my head. She’s standing in the kitchen asking Grandma the same thing right before she abandons me. Blood suddenly surges through my veins. Light-headedness causes me to sway. “Why are you asking me—”
“It’s either yes or no.” Though Kera speaks softly, the edge to her voice has the ability to cut.
The message behind her words nearly chokes the breath from me. It could completely destroy me. There’s no choice. I could never deny what I’m feeling. Not to her. “Yes. I’ve loved you all my life.”
She lifts her head from her knees. Tears sparkle against her long lashes. Is that despair? Does she no longer believe me?
My panic must show. She brings our clasped hands to her lips and places a butterfly kiss on my knuckles before pressing her forehead to them. Her whisper is low and filled with pain. “I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t comprehend a life without you.”
She still loves me. Yet my relief is short-lived.
She lowers our hands and returns to staring at the trees like they’re growing feet and will take off. “I hate not being with you. Worse, I will never see you again.”
“No.” It’s a small word filled with shock.
I tug her close and fit her against my side. She’s despondent, I can feel that much, and she’s listening. Looking. Her body pressed against mine is taut. Expectant. I wait for a moment, and then ask, “What’re you looking for?”
“Home.”
The longing in that one word surprises me. “Where are you, Kera?”
I wait, and when I think I need to repeat my question, she says, “Is this a dream?”
The fear radiating off of her is physical. My heart nearly stops. I tell myself to keep breathing. “Yes.”
“I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. I don’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
She lifts our entwined fingers. “I cannot feel. My senses are dull.”
“I don’t understand. Are you hurt?”
Her face struggles to contain her panic. “I can’t leave.”
She rests her forehead on her knees. I hold her tighter and search the woods more closely. Why can’t she leave? Why can’t she tell me where she is? The thought of her being hurt sends my heart racing. “I promise I’ll find you and bring you home.”
She shakes her head, her long hair veiling her shoulders as if to hide her. “It is wrong to wish you here. I’m stuck and no one can help me.”
When will she learn? I’m not going to walk away. Ever.
I run my fingers up and down her spine, lean close, and kiss the shell of her ear. “It’s not wrong. I’m coming to get you. Don’t worry.”
“You don’t understand. Your going back to Teag is my greatest worry. They’ll kill you, and then we’ll both be dead.”
Sobs slip from her throat and the dream slowly dissolves, leaving me more empty and alone than I’ve ever been.
Leaping Ahead
Nothing can rip your heart in two more than someone you love sounding scared. It’ll wake you out of the nastiest punch and put you on your feet ready to fight the world. I sway, blinking against the fuzz that encases my brain.
My legs are braced apart and my fists are up, ready to fight for Kera. But the girl I love, the girl I need more than my next breath, isn’t here. I instinctually try to sense her, and I barely feel her even though she’s crying out. That worries me.
The bedroom is dark except for a soft light coming from my bedside lamp. Leo glances up from his book The Color of Science. “That’s three times you’ve been knocked out in as many days. It’s common knowledge the brain can only handle so many concussions. You need to slow down, or at least get a new game plan before you end up with only half your brain functioning.”