Grey Haven (Book 1: The Dreamer Chronicles)
Chapter 6

I made it back to the house with only a minute to spare. Dana was sitting in the living room with Jen and Lisa, almost as if they had been waiting for me. They glared at me as I let myself in, and I knew they had been hoping I would be late. They had wanted to watch Harry yell at me.

Carrie was still in the homework room. She had twenty books spread out around her. Her hair stood up from the number of times she had run her hands through it. A notebook was next to her and every few seconds she would pause to write something down. I sat down across from her, though I didn’t say anything. She glanced up at me irritably, still annoyed I had left. She frowned as she processed what her glance had told her. She looked back up and surveyed my face carefully, searching for answers in my expression.

She leaned forward. “What happened?” she asked.

I started to tell Carrie about what I had seen in a low whisper, but Harry stomped in carrying five folders. He threw two onto the table, then did the same to Dana, Lisa, and Jen. He stopped in the middle of the living room. “I’m supposed to tell you that anyone feeling uncomfortable about dreaming tonight, in light of recent events, has the option to sit the night out. Any takers?”

No one spoke. Despite my dislike for Dana and her friends, they were not cowards. They wouldn’t bow out of a fight just because it was dangerous.

“Good,” Harry said. “Lights out in twenty.”

Harry went to his room, to do last minute checks on his equipment. I sensed a new tension to his work; one that was determined to make sure none of us had an encounter we couldn’t handle. I knew he had talked to Mrs. Z. I wondered if she had chastised him for what had happened to me. I would have given anything to overhear that conversation.

Carrie wasn’t as interested in Harry’s tension. She was still staring at me, wanting my story. “My room,” I said.

She nodded and gathered up her file and her books. She dumped everything but the file on her bed and followed me to my room. I closed the door behind her and turned on the radio, so that our voices wouldn’t carry down the hall. Carrie sat on the bed, her expression a mixture of concern and self-righteousness. She blamed whatever had happened on my inability to follow the rules. She was probably right.

“So, this man held you at knifepoint, only to let you go after he remembered you from this morning?” Carrie asked when I was through.

“Yup,” I said.

“It seems to me like he was tracking the other two,” Carrie said. “And you got in the way of that. He probably thought you were with them.”

“That’s what I thought at first,” I said. “But what if he was supposed to meet them? He could have any number of reasons for letting me live.”

“True,” Carrie admitted. “But who were the other guys? Where have you heard that voice before? Is the second man the traitor or the first? Why were they meeting?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped. “I’m not sure what any of it meant. It’s possible we might never know.”

“I get the feeling we’ll find out eventually,” Carrie said.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I asked.

She shrugged, Zen-like. “We’ll find the truth one way or the other. Let’s just hope it’s the more peaceful way.”

She stood abruptly, and her hand tightened on the folder Harry had given her. We could dwell on the questions in the morning. Now, it was time to go to work. “I’ll add the conversation you heard to the list of things we need to figure out,” she told me.

“And the man who almost killed me,” I said.

“Right,” Carrie agreed. She touched me on the shoulder reassuringly. “Good luck tonight.”

“You too,” I said.

“Night,” she replied.

When she was gone, I sat down on the bed. It was impossible not to feel strange about where I was headed. The day had been exceedingly long, but not nearly long enough to keep me from feeling paranoid about my dreaming duties. The memory of the shade lingered. It took more than my normal sense of duty to open the folder and inspect my fights. It took courage.

What I saw inside the folder surprised me. There were only three dreams instead of the typical six. My work had been cut in half. I didn’t know if it was Harry’s doing or Mrs. Z.’s. It didn’t really matter. Either way, it was less. When Harry came through on his normal check of the equipment, and to make sure I was hooked up to the monitor, I was still holding the folder.

“Bed,” he commanded.

I held up the folder in a question.

“You skipped three classes today,” Harry explained. “Actions have consequences.”

I was skeptical. We were never punished that way. In the past, they had always punished me with physical labor, not easy fights.

“Really?” I asked my voice laced with sarcasm.

“Mrs. Z.’s orders,” Harry said, dropping the façade.

“I’m not a child,” I said. “I can handle my share of the work. I want to handle my share of the work.”

Harry took the folder from me and tucked it under his arm. “Goes beyond you, kid. Time you realize that not everything is related to your ego. Now get hooked up before you make us all late.”

I frowned at him but didn’t argue. I put the sensors on my head with no small amount of resentment. The television at the foot of my bed immediately turned grey. Harry checked the sensors and the television and started to make his way out of my room. “Did you find out how the shade got in?” I asked before he could go.

Carrie could look through her books for years, but Harry was the best source of information. He wouldn’t lie. Much. Harry put his hand on the doorframe, as if he was bracing himself against something. “No,” he said.

“You’ll tell me when you do,” I commanded.

“I told you I would,” Harry snapped back. He left with a glare.

When I heard his bedroom door snap shut, I leaned back against my pillows. It was only then that I realized I was still in my jeans and t-shirt. It would have to do. I took deep breaths to calm my racing heart.

A minute later, the pull of the sensors urged me to let go of the waking world and return to my dreamer duties. I didn’t resist; didn’t want to. I closed my eyes and was immediately asleep.

I was immediately set down in the grey that existed between dreams. It was like being in a rolling fog bank, except that the sense of motion was nothing more than my body trying to make sense of the unnatural stillness. My stay was brief. It lasted long enough for me to forge my crossbow, knife, and the utilitarian clothes I wore to fight shades. When I was fully armed and dressed, I was pulled out of the grey and into a world of nightmares.

Not only were the amount of shades cut in half, the nightmares were easier. Still, I didn’t lower my guard. It didn’t matter if I felt the work was beneath my skill level. People needed help. If I didn’t stop the shades when they were lesser, they would get stronger and take the person over. People had died because a dreamer had failed to stop a single shade when they had the chance.

The night passed by quickly. Before I knew it, I had killed my three shades and had transported back into the world of grey. My weapons disappeared, and then I woke up in my bed. The sunlight was streaming in through my window, and the room was filled with a warm haze. Despite the warmth of my room and the brightness of the sun, I heard a harsh wind pummeling the house.

I pulled the sensors off my head and sat up on the bed as I listened to the sound. My back ached with a sharp fire. It pulsed with the pain of a day spent in tension and motion.

Harry opened my door as I put a hand on my back. It was his normal morning routine, far different from the previous morning’s aberration. “Need anything?” he asked.

“Something for my back,” I said.

Harry pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket and threw it at me. I caught it and poured out three. I got up and went to my bathroom for water. When I came out, Carrie was waiting for me. She was sitting on my bed and bounced with the energy of an exciting night full of dangerous fights.

“Rough night?” I asked her.

“Not bad,” she said. “How’s your back?”

“Hurts,” I confessed.

“Anything unusual happen?” Carrie asked.

I wanted to tell her that they had cut my missions in half and given me the kinds of fights I had gotten when I had first arrived, but I was embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to know that truth. I also knew that Carrie would get even more worried that Mrs. Z. and Harry were going to such extremes to protect me.

“No,” I said.

“I was thinking about what you told me,” Carrie said. “You should tell Harry about what happened last night.”

“I don’t know…” I said.

“Why?” Carrie demanded. “Getting in trouble for sneaking out is better than letting a murderer go free.”

I frowned and thought over the reason for my hesitancy. It wasn’t just because I didn’t want to get in trouble. It was because I felt as if I only had half of the truth. The man letting me go was a mystery I wanted to solve for myself. It was better to wait until I had placed the voice I had heard, so that I had more than suspicion to go on. I also felt confident that Harry and Mrs. Z. would take me off duty completely if I confessed to another near-death experience.

“I don’t want to go to Harry or Mrs. Z. without knowing exactly what’s going on,” I said. “I don’t want to cry wolf and make it easier for the traitor to escape. We need to dig deeper.”

Carrie stood and started pacing in front of my door. Her hands were on her hips. A part of her was eager to disagree with me. She subscribed to the better safe than sorry school of thought. Another part of her saw the logic in what I was saying. She knew that if we went to Harry we would never have the space to figure out the truth our way.

“Fine,” Carrie finally said. “But if anything else like that happens, I’m going to go to Harry with or without you.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

I stood. As I did, I heard Dana, Jen, and Lisa talking from the kitchen. I wasn’t eager for more comments from Dana, particularly after a night of way-too-easy shades. “I’m gonna shower,” I said.

Carrie nodded knowingly and disappeared around the corner of my bedroom door. By the time I was finished with my shower, had brushed my teeth, and dressed, Dana and the others were gone. I ate breakfast with Carrie, who was nose deep in her textbooks again, then we rode our bikes to school.

There were no crowds gathered around the houses or news of deaths in the night. There was just the harsh wind that pummeled us as we rode our bikes to meet Tommy at the roundabout. He didn’t have any fresh injuries, and his bandage was gone. The wound on his cheek was red, but it wasn’t as major as the bandage had led me to believe. It wouldn’t leave a scar. Our routine was normal, as normal as every other day I had experienced at school. It was easy to forget the attacks had happened – easy, but not possible.

Classes passed by in a wave of color and activity. No one mentioned the people who had died, but they were on everyone’s mind. It was in in the somber expressions and sad eyes. Our last class before lunch was cancelled, so that we could attend the funeral. No one skipped out.

Chairs lined the front of the school, and Mrs. Z. led the services. The parents of the fallen dreamers sat on the front row, taking comfort from nothing. They knew what had drawn their children to the school and were proud of their sacrifice, but that didn’t keep them from weeping openly. The terror of losing a child was written across their faces, in the tears that fell from their eyes and the exhausted weight they carried in every movement. It was impossible for me to look away from them. It was difficult to see such overwhelming sadness, but I found that I had to look. Seeing them made me more determined to understand what had happened, to give them closure.

When the service was over, the students broke off into their typical groups for lunch. Tommy, Carrie, and I didn’t speak as we went inside to get our food, too somber to find the words.

Sully was at his normal place in the cafeteria. He knew we had just come from a funeral service. We couldn’t hide that truth from the people who served lunch. He smiled at me as he gave us our food for free, an attempt to cheer me up. I smiled back and walked with Carrie and Tommy to a table near the door.

We weren’t in the cafeteria long when Ben walked in, surrounded by his friends. Dana held on to his hand with a fierce grip unusual for someone so petite. Dana’s expression was full of anger; emotion that was matched in Ben. He glanced at me when they walked in but didn’t speak. Dana gave me a new kind of glare as she passed. It held a level of hate I had yet to see from her. It made me smile in dry amusement. The group got food from Sully’s and sat at a table on the opposite side of the room. Their conversation was the loudest in the somber room.

Carrie threw her food onto her plate in disgust as Dana sat on Ben’s lap. Dana glanced at us again, lost her irritated expression, and started entertaining the group with a story from her night fighting shades. It felt tasteless considering the funeral was only over by ten minutes.

“I’m going outside,” Carrie said.

Tommy and I glanced at each other and silently made the choice to follow her. Tommy swallowed the food he had shoveled into his mouth, threw his bag over his shoulder, and picked up his sandwich and soda. I did the same and followed Carrie as she marched out of the room.

Carrie didn’t go back to the front of the building. None of us wanted to see the parents crying over their children again. Instead, she went to the back of the school. It was far more private. There were only five people spaced out over the large area. Some of them were reading, while others ate their lunch. No one paid us attention as we sat down. They were content in not knowing who had joined them.

Carrie crossed her legs as she sat, while Tommy sprawled out on the grass. I sat between them and closed my eyes, letting the sun warm me in ways the bitter wind didn’t. Clouds hurried across the sky in the wake of the wind, causing constant fluctuations between dark and light.

“I tried to talk to Mrs. Waite again,” Carrie said.

“And?” I asked, opening my eyes.

“I got her to admit that certain shades could move between dreams, but she wouldn’t say anything else. Kind of blew me off, actually,” Carrie said.

“Did she know you were asking because of the deaths?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Carrie said. “But she was defensive all the same.”

“You think the old bag is guilty of something?” Tommy asked.

Carrie shook her head. “I think she thinks she’s protecting me,” Carrie said.

“From what?” I fretted.

“Or who,” Tommy added.

An idea brightened Carrie’s blue eyes. She sat up straighter and bit her lip as she thought through her idea.

“What?” I asked suspiciously.

“You guys know that bookstore in town…the weird one,” Carrie said.

“Madam George’s Bookshop,” I provided.

“Yeah, that one,” Carrie agreed. “Why don’t we go there this weekend and poke around?”

“How will that help?” Tommy asked.

“They might have something on shades there that we don’t have here,” Carrie said.

“What will she have that Grey Haven doesn’t?” he asked.

“I don’t know. That’s why we should go,” she said.

“It’s creepy,” he complained. “And Madam George stares like she’s trying to steal my soul. Can you stare someone’s soul out of them? Am I at risk? My soul is too precious for theft!”

“I think we need to try,” Carrie said, firmly ignoring his complaints.

I shrugged noncommittally. I doubted there was a chance we would find anything in a bookstore aimed at tourists and superstitious idiots, but I was willing to follow Carrie’s idea to its conclusion. Any opportunity to go to town was fine with me. It was better than spending the weekend trying to convince Carrie to do something beyond homework or perfecting her shade-killing technique. Tommy tried to argue that the bookstore was a dead-end, but Carrie was determined. By the end of the lunch, he had lost the fight, which made Carrie ten shades of smug.

After school, Tommy came over to the house. He wasn’t the only boy there. Ben had come to visit, too. He was by himself on the sofa, reading a girl’s fashion magazine and looking as if he had been waiting for a while.

“Hey,” Ben said placidly.

“Hi,” Carrie replied reluctantly when neither Tommy nor I replied.

“Dana home?” I asked, wondering why he was sitting on our sofa alone.

“Nope,” Ben said. “She should be here any minute.”

“Awesome,” I said dryly.

I passed him, put my bag on the floor near the kitchen, and grabbed three drinks from the refrigerator. Ben and Tommy were talking as I walked back into the living room. Tommy had been unable to escape Ben’s questions. There was tension behind his friendliness as he talked to Ben, a tension that was a direct result of Ben’s friends mocking him at the slightest provocation.

Carrie hovered near the homework room, unwilling to let her guard down enough to have a meaningful conversation but still eager to be part of the conversation. Ben focused on me as I handed Tommy his drink. His eyes were curious.

“What?” I asked.

“Dana said you’re an orphan,” Ben said. “Is that true?”

“That’s none of your business,” Carrie snapped, no longer awkward.

“It’s fine, Carrie,” I said. “He’s probably just trying to wade through the lies his girlfriend has spread about me.”

Ben didn’t argue. He focused his gaze on the door, cheeks heating. He seemed embarrassed to have asked such a personal thing in such an insensitive way. His curiosity had gotten ahead of him.

“Well, this is awkward,” Tommy said brightly. “I’m gonna start my Shade Studies homework, if any geniuses would care to help me get through it…” He poked Carrie in the side and walked into the homework room. After a minute of glaring, she followed him and pulled out her book with more force than necessary. Tommy started talking to her about homework, covering up the awkwardness with his natural cheerfulness.

I stared at Ben, who was doing his best to ignore Carrie’s reaction. His embarrassment had grown with her righteous anger. “Trouble in paradise?” I asked, taking a step closer to him.

Ben’s eyes turned defensive. He wasn’t willing to be as honest with me as he had expected me to be with him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Arguing with Dana?” I asked.

“No…” he lied.

“Okay. Whatever,” I said.

I joined the others at the table, wanting their company, but not nearly so interested in homework. As I sat, Carrie glared at me sternly. Her expression suggested she wasn’t over her irritation yet. “You should do your homework,” she told me.

“I should do a lot of things,” I said.

Carrie’s glare intensified. I sighed again. The steel in her eyes suggested she wasn’t in the mood for an argument. She was trying to protect me, just like Harry and Mrs. Z. were trying to protect me with easy missions and cryptic warnings. They thought they knew what was best for me. I didn’t like the assumption, but I appreciated their concern. And, unlike Harry and Mrs. Z., Carrie was a friend. I didn’t want to make her angry for such a simple thing. Doing homework was easier than dealing with her lecture on how homework could save our lives. I got up again, to grab my bag.

As I walked into the living room, the front door opened. Dana, Lisa, and Jen walked inside. Dana saw Ben, then me. From her perspective, I was headed toward Ben instead of the kitchen. Her expression turned possessive and defensive in a second. “What are you doing?” Dana asked.

Ben thought she was talking to him. He was taken aback by her tone, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m waiting for you,” he said. “I think we should talk.”

Dana’s eyes drifted away from my face as I kept up my path for my bag, though she was still suspicious. Grabbing my bag only made her doubt me more. She knew I never did homework. It was as out of character for me as kindness was for her. I ignored her and sat down at the table. Tommy and Carrie had stopped writing to watch the drama in front of them but returned to the work as I sat.

Ben stood and gestured Dana outside. Jen and Lisa went to their rooms, glaring at me as they passed. I smiled maliciously and waved at them, then focused on the book in front of me, frowning at the dry, dusty words in confusion. With Carrie’s help, we worked through our homework quickly. We were done before it was fully dark outside. It was the first time I had ever done all my homework. It felt weird and wrong.

Tommy hung around the house until curfew, filling the space with cheer and laughter. Five minutes until nine he raced back to his house, tripping over himself to leave in time, while Carrie and I hung out in her bedroom. At nine, Harry made his rounds. He threw our folders at us and paced to the kitchen where Jen and Lisa were chatting quietly with Dana. I wasn’t sure if the conversation meant Dana and Ben had made up or that they had broken up. I wasn’t interested enough to eavesdrop and find out. Carrie was resisting the impulse to do just that, but her fear of being caught kept her in place. She opened her folder in careful, forced concentration and assessed her missions. I did the same, expecting less than my normal share – further punishment.

I was surprised, and pleased, when there were six missions instead of three. I wasn’t sure if that meant Mrs. Z. wasn’t as worried about an attack as I thought, or if she trusted me to take care of myself. Either way, I was glad to have my share of the work back.

I said goodnight to Carrie and went to my room to prepare for my missions with more excitement than I’d felt the previous night.

My dreams were typical; nothing out of the ordinary happened. I entered six dreams and left with the death of six shades on my hands. There was satisfaction in the kills, but I still felt the weight of the attack and fear over the traitor. It haunted me all night. It would continue to haunt me until I had the truth. My uncertainty left me with the sinking feeling that the truth would come at a heavy price.

‡

When I woke up the next morning, the light inside my room was dull and grey, though the wind had died down. Rain clouded the windows. The only thing that made the idea of going to school bearable was the thought that it was Friday. The weekend was on the other side of the day.

Gym was as punishing as ever. Mr. Vimer separated us into two groups and forced us into a game of capture the flag. It was more ruthless than the children’s version of the game. It was full contact, and it was meant to help us work as a team. I suspected it was Mr. Vimer’s way of remembering the violence of the good old days.

Tommy and Carrie were on my team. We wore blue vests, while the other team wore red. As we waited on one end of the gym for Mr. Vimer to blow his whistle, Tommy shifted uncomfortably. He was obviously anxious. I assumed it was because he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of the others.

“Just stick with me,” I said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Tommy’s smile was sarcastic. He wasn’t scared of the fight, then. Something else was bothering him. “Thanks?” he questioned. He eyed Carrie meaningfully. “I actually have something to tell you, but I don’t know how it will go over.”

“What?” Carrie demanded.

Tommy lowered his voice and took a step closer, so that the others couldn’t hear what he had to say. He glanced at Ben, who was on the opposite team, and swallowed heavily. His fear wasn’t of Ben, but of Carrie’s reaction. “I overheard some of Ben’s friends talking about Dana and Ben while I was changing. It was before Ben got there…” Tommy focused on me, though is words were directed at Carrie. “Apparently, Ben got mad at Dana for talking bad about Julie. They got into a huge argument over it yesterday.”

“Oh,” I said.

Ben fighting for me was surprising. I was glad he was standing up to Dana but defending me wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t need it. The argument also suggested that we were closer than the three conversations we had shared. I peeked over at Carrie, uncertain of how she would take Tommy’s words. Her expression had hardened. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or pain. Neither was okay with me.

“Carrie…I swear that nothing-” I started to say.

Mr. Vimer blew his whistle. Tommy and I parted to make way for Carrie as she ran toward the line that divided our side from the opposite team. I shared a worried look with Tommy, and we turned to follow her, uncertain of what she would do now that she was angry.

Carrie was ruthless as she crossed the line between our side and the other team. Those that she didn’t knock out, she sidestepped, leaving them to us. Tommy and I did our best to keep them off her back. We felt the other people on our team doing the same thing to our left and right. A large part of our group had stayed behind, to protect the flag. As we moved closer to the flag, the fight was harder. Tommy and I remained in constant motion as we fought side by side.

I punched a girl in the face, kicked another in the stomach, and dodged an elbow from a boy. Tommy kneed the last boy in the gut as hard as he could, his face full of glee. The boy was one of the most obnoxious of Tommy’s haters and he fell with a pained yelled. Tommy’s gleeful expression turned wickedly happy.

Carrie sprinted for the flag. A group of five stood in a semi-circle around it, with Ben at the center. Carrie didn’t falter at his defensive posture or calm certainty. She ran straight at him. The others on his team moved to stop her, but Carrie was only interested in fighting Ben.

“Tommy,” I whispered.

Tommy glanced over questioningly. I signaled for him to get the flag, using hand gestures the three of us had made up during our tactical sessions together. His eyes narrowed in determination, and he nodded. I moved ahead of him, to help Carrie in her fight. She kicked one girl in the knee and followed through with a punch to the face. The girl fell to the gym floor.

Ben was next. Carrie threw a punch at him as I stepped into the fight at her side. A boy twice my size tried to grab me around the middle. I grasped his hands and used his momentum to throw him forward. He stumbled, flailed, and hit the floor hard. I kicked him while he was down to make sure he didn’t attack me when my back was turned, unrepentant as he collapsed. Another girl had snuck up behind Carrie and was about to put her in a chokehold. I ran to cut her off as Carrie threw a punch at Ben’s face. My punch connected with the girl’s sternum, and she dropped with a grunt.

Carrie and Ben were focused on their fight, to the exclusion of the rest of the room. A trickle of blood ran from Ben’s nose, and Carrie had a bruise forming on her jaw. Carrie’s anger faded from her eyes, replaced by enjoyment at finding a challenge in the fight. Behind them, unseen by their fighters, Tommy grabbed the flag. He stuck it under his vest and shot a toothy grin my way.

“Carrie!” I called, hoping Carrie would be reasonable despite her anger. “I’ve got the flag!”

Carrie started to back away from Ben at the call. The only thing Carrie liked more than being angry was winning.

My call had done more than draw her attention. The others on Ben’s team raced toward me, giving up on their fights with my team to stop me from getting back to the other side. Carrie joined me, and we fought our way through the group. Tommy walked casually at the edge of the gym, close to the wall, so that no one noticed him. As I tried to move through the people focused on me, I saw that the other team had broken through our defenses. A girl grabbed our flag and ran for her side of the line.

“Run!” I shouted at Tommy.

Tommy took off, sprinting for the line. The others stared at him in incomprehension, used to underestimating him. Ben was the only one who understood what was going on. “He’s got the flag! Tommy has it! Get him!” Ben tried to yell, but it was too late.

Tommy crossed the line and pulled the flag out from under his vest. He held it up for the others to see, a huge smile on his face. Mr. Vimer blew his whistle while the others stared at Tommy in disbelief. I laughed as Tommy did a dance to celebrate, then gave him a high-five. He high-fived Carrie, too, who was calmer now that she wasn’t fighting. She touched her jaw where Ben had hit her and winced.

“Feel better?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

“A bit,” Carrie agreed with a small smile.

“You’re my friend and you will always be a hundred times more important than a boy.”

Carrie nodded. “I know. I feel the same way.”

“Good,” I replied.

I turned away from her and saw that most of the class was on the floor. Many of them were nursing bleeding noses and bruised eyes. A couple were unconscious. Mr. Vimer went from student to student to make sure the injuries were not serious.

Ben joined us with a smile as Mr. Vimer made his rounds. “Nice job,” he told us.

“Thanks,” Tommy said.

“And nice fight,” Ben added to Carrie.

Carrie nodded, but didn’t say anything in response. Perhaps sensing her irritation, Ben turned away and went back to his friends. Mr. Vimer made his way through the last of students and was satisfied that no one needed medical attention. He stood and put his whistle in his mouth. My stomach sank.

“Drills!”

‡

In Shade Studies, Mrs. Waite was still stuck on snakes. She lectured about the distinct types of snakes and the myriad ways they could possess a person. I was beginning to think she had a complex. Tommy and I played Hangman until I realized the answer was snakes and threw the crumpled-up paper at his face. He laughed silently for the rest of the period.

My other classes were typical, though the teachers still felt the weight of the deaths. They seemed determined to shove as much information as possible at us. Ben made a point of saying hello to us in the classes that we shared, but a hello was as far as it went. He didn’t talk to us, and we didn’t talk to him. Carrie’s anger lingered, and I wasn’t eager to prove to her that my relationship with Ben went beyond what she had seen.

At lunch, Sully and I shared a secret smile as he handed us our food. It was the brightest part of the gloomy day.

Finally, school was over. A light drizzle kept everyone wet and miserable. Tommy, Carrie, and I were getting our bikes off the rack when I noticed Sully walk out of the front entrance. Mrs. Z. was with him. They shook hands, though Sully didn’t look happy. He put his hands into his pockets and walked to his truck, shoulders hunched. I hadn’t noticed it parked in front of the school. I watched him walk, curious for several reasons.

Sully never stayed beyond lunch, and Mrs. Z. rarely spoke with the lunch staff. The sight was beyond odd. Sully glanced over, saw me, and started walking slower. It was a sign he wanted to talk. I undid my lock and meandered over to him casually. Carrie and Tommy lingered at the bike rack.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked.

“I had a meeting with your principal at 4:30,” Sully confessed. “I asked if I could serve lunch on the weekends. I could make a killing, if she would let me in.”

“What’d she say?” I asked.

“No,” Sully said with a shrug.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I’ll keep asking,” Sully said. “I’ll wear her down eventually.”

I knew he was wrong, but I didn’t argue. “Are you busy this weekend?” I asked.

“Why?” he asked with a small smirk.

“Carrie, Tommy, and I are going to be in town. I’d like to see you,” I said.

Sully’s smirk turned thoughtful. He paused in front of his truck, and his eyes turned distant. I thought I understood the distance. He couldn’t see me and was searching for a way to let me down easily. “How are you getting there?” he asked.

“I guess we’ll ride our bikes,” I said.

“Let me pick you guys up at the bridge,” Sully said.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“All right,” I said. “Around eleven tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” Sully promised.

He gave me another smile that had me itching to kiss him. I had to settle for a return smile. He walked around the front of the truck and got in on the driver’s side with a wink directed my way. Tommy and Carrie finally caught up as I watched him drive away.

“You’re going to get caught if you keep smiling like an idiot,” Tommy pointed out, poking at my face.

I punched him on the shoulder and he slapped my arm in retaliation.

“What did Sully say?” Carrie asked, separating us. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“We have a ride to town tomorrow,” I said.

Tommy smiled happily at not having to bicycle the three miles to Sweetbriar. Carrie frowned. “Won’t that make searching for a book on shades more difficult?” she asked. “He’s not supposed to know, after all.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I had just been happy at the thought of seeing him. I wanted to argue that it was unlikely Madam George had the book, but I didn’t want to squash Carrie’s optimism. Tommy frowned. “Tell him it’s homework for a class,” he said. “Research for a paper on sleep habits.”

Carrie shrugged, surprising me. “Fine,” she said.

“I’m starving,” Tommy said. “Whose turn is it to cook at your house tonight?”

“Julie’s,” Carrie said.

“Oh…” Tommy said mournfully. “I think I’ll go home to eat.”

“Good idea,” I agreed.

Tommy waved a goodbye and sped away from us, head bowed against the weather. Carrie and I biked to our house in silence. Large raindrops fell on our shoulders and heads as we rode. The clouds swirled low overhead, a promise that there was more rain to come. Despite signs that the bad weather wasn’t moving out anytime soon, I was excited. I had the feeling that town would provide more of an adventure than simply searching for answers in an old book. I needed the distraction and the time away from Grey Haven. I hoped that the space would provide some clarity. I hoped it would give us a clue to catch the killer and put my fears to bed.

‡

When Carrie and I met up with Tommy the next morning, the clouds were still hanging low in the sky. Despite the dark clouds, we were in good spirits at the thought of our day ahead. As we rode our bikes down the main road, we joked and laughed. The guard didn’t get up from his chair when we passed the guard station at the front gate. He remained focused on the monitors in front of him. He would only care about us when we tried to get back into the school.

Sully was waiting at the bridge. He was leaning against his truck, his arms crossed. He looked pensive, almost worried. He straightened when he saw us and moved to the back of the truck to help us load our bikes into the bed.

Our bikes stowed away, I crawled into the cab first, so that I was closest to Sully and gave him a squeeze on the thigh in greeting. Sully started the engine without a word and we headed down the dirt road, bouncing in time to the steep pitch and potholes.

Carrie stared out the passenger window without talking, but Tommy was less content with silence. He started chatting with Sully about the shop, his mind flying over ideas sometimes faster than his mouth could catch up. Sully accepted Tommy’s conversation with an easy-going comfortableness that quickly erased the tension of unfamiliarity between them.

The dirt road intersected at the bottom of the mountain with a paved one that held almost as many potholes. The forest lined the road but didn’t overshadow it as it did the road to Grey Haven. The occasional house or trailer broke up the grey of the sky and the brown of the trees. Traffic was steady and mostly headed toward town. After a mile, the road widened to four lanes and the traffic became heavier. Eventually, we crested a sharp hill, and we saw Sweetbriar in the valley below.

The town was sprawling, with few skyscrapers. The architecture was mostly art-deco or early twentieth-century design, with a couple of modern buildings thrown in for contrast. Town was large, but it maintained the feel of a small town. It was a strange combination of the past and future that fit well together. I knew that the city had grown with Grey Haven, had even been inspired by it at times. It reflected the nightmares and dreams Grey Haven had been built upon. The low clouds swirled mist-like around the brick and stone buildings of the city, creating an almost surreal atmosphere as we descended into the valley.

“Where are we headed?” Sully asked.

“Tenth Street,” Carrie said. “Near Honey’s.”

Honey’s was the best breakfast place in town. It was packed when we parked in front of it, and people were lined up on the sidewalk for a chance to taste some of its famous down-home cooking.

Sully fed quarters into the meter, while Carrie pulled out a list of books she wanted to find from her bag. She stared at the list for a second, then marched away. Her stride was purposeful and determined. Tommy shook his head at her and followed her at a much slower pace. I hung back with Sully. His expression held a question. “She’s got to find a book for homework,” I said quickly. “It won’t take us long.”

Sully shrugged. “It’s better than my normal Saturday.”

“Really?” I asked skeptically.

“Sure,” he agreed.

He kissed me on the cheek and shifted past me to follow Carrie. I smiled warmly and turned to follow him but froze as my eyes landed on the crowd. Dana, Ben, and a bunch of their friends were waiting in line at Honey’s. I hadn’t seen them around the others milling outside, but I noticed them now. They had seen the kiss. Dana’s face was bright with malicious joy. Ben gave a small wave, but he couldn’t hide his surprise. I paced away from them with a stiff back, cursing my inattentiveness.

While I was normally indifferent to trouble, I didn’t want Dana to have the ammunition I had just given her. It wasn’t about me. Sully got a lot of business from the school. I didn’t want her gossip to ruin his livelihood. I didn’t want him to pay for the enemies I had made at Grey Haven.

“What is it?” Sully asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“A girl from school…” I said.

Carrie stood in front of a small shop that was awkwardly jammed between a furniture store and an antique store. Strange emblems hung over the door and books with things like shrunken heads and pentagrams on the covers were displayed prominently, even defiantly. Strange knickknacks were also displayed in the windows, seemingly without reason. A sign in the window proclaimed the shop as Madam George’s Shop of the Occult.

“Dana saw us?” Carrie asked, turning to me.

“Yeah,” I said.

“We’ll figure something out,” Carrie promised.

I sighed and realized there was nothing I could do about Dana now. We had to focus on the reason we had come to town. We had to see if Madam George had the book we needed. If not, then we would have to come up with a new plan. That plan was more important than whatever gossip Dana was already spreading.

The worry lingered as I followed the others to the shop. There would be a price to pay, I just hoped Sully wouldn’t be the one doing the paying.

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