Alternity (3 page)

As we walked out of class I couldn’t help but release a large yawn. I needed to hit the union for a soda or something before my next class or I’d never make it. While I could hold my own on a quarter night’s sleep in film class, calculus was another story altogether.

“Did you get
any
sleep last night?” Craig asked, walking beside me. “I mean, no offense, but you look like total hell.”

“Thanks.” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

“I’m serious!” he insisted. “Like, if they threw a zombie contest competition, I bet you’d win. Without any makeup!”

“Hardy-har-har.” I turned the corner, finding myself wishing he’d walk away. I knew he was just being his normal silly old self, but his remarks were hitting uncomfortably close to home.

“Oh. come on, Skye!” he cried, grabbing me by the arms and dancing me around the hall. “Everyone knows zombies are
so
hot right now. Why, I bet if you met me at Luna tonight, you’d be the talk of the town.”

I sighed. I should have predicted this was where the conversation was headed. Luna was a nightclub on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Back when it was just a decrepit hole in the wall, Craig had scored a prized Friday night DJ gig from eleven to twelve. We used to have fun dressing up, skipping the line, and dancing till dawn. And I had to admit, I’d taken great pleasure in telling the other girls that yes, that was my cute boyfriend up there in the DJ booth spinning the sweet tunes.

That all changed two months ago, when Luna had gotten a write-up in
Guest of a Guest
, which turned it into the trendiest spot in town. The club kids fled as the socialites and Wall Streeters moved in, demanding banquettes and bottle service over dance floor space. The club owners loved it: finally they were making some bank. They tightened the velvet ropes and gave the 1 percent what they wanted. If we weren’t already regulars, there was no way the bouncers would have accepted our obviously oh-so-fake IDs.

With that in mind, even if I wasn’t exhausted beyond recognition, Luna was the last place I wanted to spend my Friday night. Not that I could explain that to Craig, who’d embraced the new clientele once he realized they came with a pay raise. “Sorry,” I said, searching for an acceptable excuse. Saying I was just going to go to bed wouldn’t cut it. “I’ve got work to do on the game. We launch in a couple weeks, and I don’t want to miss any bugs.”

As I could have predicted, Craig scowled. “It’s Friday night!” he protested. “You’re not allowed to get your geek on on Friday night. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s against the law. Or it should be, if it isn’t.”

He was too much. I opened my mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a familiar whirlwind of red hair, red lips, and red fingernails bursting in between us. Oh great. My day was getting better and better.

“What’s against the law?” Suzy, my second cousin, demanded, flashing a big smile in Craig’s direction and ignoring me completely. You’d think that since we were distantly related, not to mention the fact that she had a boyfriend of her own, she’d consider it bad form to flirt with mine. But evidently she didn’t get the Miss Manners memo on that one. And Craig, being Craig, used her adoration to his advantage.

“Skye here refuses to go watch me spin at Luna tonight,” my boyfriend informed her, giving me an overexaggerated pout. “Isn’t that completely uncool of her?”

Suzy nodded enthusiastically, as she did to pretty much anything Craig said. The girl was a walking, talking cliché. “Completely uncool,” she agreed, turning to me. “Especially since you haven’t been out in forever. We miss you, you know!”

I sighed. Yeah, they missed me. The old me, that was. The happy-go-lucky club kid who loved to dance and party without a care in the world. Not the new Skye, tormented by nightmares and driven mad by lack of sleep. If only they knew what a downer I’d be, they wouldn’t want me there in the first place.

“Sorry, Suze. I’m just not feeling well. I’ve been having these horrible dreams and—”

“Ooh, that reminds me, I had this crazy dream last night!” Suzy butted in. “Ryan Reynolds and I were all making out at Luna, right? And then Ryan Gosling walks in. And he’s all …”

I groaned as she babbled on in way too much detail about her celebrity threesome. Seriously, was
everyone
hooking up and making out in their dreams while I was busy being chased and tormented in mine?

“I’ve got to get to class,” I announced. At this point I wasn’t even going to be able to score that soda. I started to push my way through the two of them. But before I could make my escape Suzy’s fingers suddenly locked on to my arm, her fire engine–red nails digging painfully into my flesh.

“Ow!” I cried, turning around, my eyes widening as they fell upon her face. My heart started beating fast as I stared at my cousin.

Gone was the sparkle in her eyes, the laughter on her lips. Gone was the arrogance, the flirtation—all that I knew my cousin to be. Instead there was a strange … blankness to her expression. Blue eyes but nobody home.

“Uh, are you okay?” I asked, peering at her a little closer. The change was so startling and sudden—it was almost as if someone had flipped a switch. I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. But the hallway had become eerily quiet; the other students seemingly vanished into thin air. Even Craig, who was still standing there, seemed so preoccupied, staring down at his phone, it was as if he wasn’t actually present.

My heart started beating faster. Something was seriously weird here. Was I having another dream? I reluctantly turned back to Suzy.

“Skye, I
need
you to go to Luna tonight,” my cousin was saying in a slow voice that sounded nothing like her normal boisterous tone. She paused, then added, “I think Trent is cheating on me and I need you to find out if I’m right.”

I let out a breath, forcing my shoulders to relax. She was just freaked out about her stupid boyfriend, I told myself, that was all. Probably not without good reason.

“You need to go to Luna’s VIP room tonight and catch him with this girl,” Suzy continued in the same detached-sounding voice. “You need to take a photo of the two of them together and bring it back to me. So I’ll have the proof I need.”

She paused, waiting for my answer. I stared at her for a second, still puzzled by the weird blankness on her face. Then I sighed. While I could argue with her—I could tell her no a dozen times—in the end, it wasn’t worth the energy. Especially when she’d teamed up with Craig. And maybe it’d be good for me to get out for a bit. Maybe it would help me forget the dreams.

“Sure,” I relented. “Fine. Whatever.”

The words had barely left my lips when the hallway burst back into life. Students once again began streaming past us, chattering happily. Craig looked up from his phone. Suzy’s face transformed back to its normal vapid enthusiasm, and she squealed as she leapt into my arms, squeezing me tight and effectively cutting off my air supply.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried. “You’re the best cousin in the history of cousins.”

I couldn’t find any words to reply.

“And the best girlfriend, too,” Craig agreed. “Trust me, you won’t regret this!”

I was pretty sure I already did. But I just stood there, dazed and confused, as he kissed me on the cheek again, then turned and started down the hallway, whistling as he went. Suzy untangled herself from my arms and ran off after him, telling him to wait up. As I watched the two of them go, my eyes caught a glimpse of something I’d never seen before on the back of my cousin’s neck.

A tattoo of the moon.

FOUR

I kept my promise that night, walking past the seemingly endless line, which wrapped all the way around one city block, and wondered once again what had happened to my precious Luna. The once hole-in-the-wall club—with more cockroaches than clients—was now the must-go destination for Manhattan’s rich and bored. I was pretty sure the designer bags in this line alone could be sold for a down payment on a Park Avenue penthouse.

I could feel the jealous stares burn at my backside as I shrugged by with a Forever 21 purse on my shoulder and waltzed up to the velvet ropes, giving the bouncer a burly hug.
Why does she get to skip the line? Who does she think she is?
Bruno hugged me back. He looked like total thug life, but was actually a complete teddy bear.

“Hey, dollface,” he greeted. “Slumming it tonight?”

I laughed. Bruno had been working the door since the days Luna paid actresses to line up and attract a crowd. He knew as well as I did how ridiculous this place had become. “Just came to check Craig out,” I told him. “And see some friends. Do you know if Trent is here?”

Bruno shook his head. “Haven’t seen him yet,” he replied. “But I’m sure he’s on his way. You know he never misses a Friday.”

I glanced at my watch. Great. I’d hoped to be in and out of here so I could get back home and get some sleep. Evidently luck was not going to be my lady tonight.

Bruno unclipped the velvet rope, and I did a doubletake when I caught a glimpse of a small moon tattooed between his thumb and forefinger. The exact design of Suzy’s neck art. Was this some kind of new trend I hadn’t heard about? The symbol of a new band everyone loved? I shivered, feeling unnerved all over again. But Bruno just flashed me a toothy grin. “Have a good time!” was all he said.

Pushing down my growing trepidation, I forced my feet to keep walking down the red carpet, through the main doors, down a black-lit corridor, and onto the main dance floor. It was early, but the club was already pretty packed with hot, blinged-out dancers, gyrating to fast-paced electronica mixed with hip-hop.

At one time I would have jumped right in, dancing up a storm and working up a sweat. But tonight I was just too exhausted. I decided to head up to the VIP room and wait for Suzy’s stupid boyfriend to make an appearance. That way I could also say hi to Craig if I caught him between sets. Show him what a good and dedicated girlfriend I was.

I pushed my way through the crowd and soon made it to the VIP gateway. The bouncer, a new guy I didn’t know, checked his list then unclipped the rope. I climbed the stairs to the elite, private lounge, where only Manhattan’s finest were deemed worthy enough to hang. I felt a bit like an intruder, being far from Manhattan’s finest. If only I had some kind of sign around my neck, saying I’M WITH THE DJ, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so many suspicious stares.

Since it was still early, there were only a few other guests. A handful of women, tightly wrapped in form-fitting bandage dresses and hoofed with red-soled Louboutins. A few Armani-clad Japanese businessmen, eyeing them with interest. The lot of them lounged on smooshy couches and velvet chairs, sipping champagne and blatantly ignoring the NYC smoking ban. Trent, as Bruno had predicted, was nowhere to be seen yet. Fashionably late, as per usual.

I sank down into a nearby chair and allowed a cocktail waitress to take my drink order. Diet Red Bull—I was desperate for the caffeine. I caught Craig’s eye over in the nearby DJ booth and waved. He grinned, probably thrilled to see I’d really shown up, and blew me a kiss. I returned the kiss laughingly, feeling myself relax as I cuddled into the comfy chair, for the first time in a while feeling kind of good. Even with these newfound cheesy clubgoers, I always felt at home at Luna. It was safe here. Familiar. And best of all, loud enough so I wouldn’t fall asleep and dream.

That last dream—the one in class—still hadn’t left me. In fact, Glenda’s words had been banging around my consciousness all day.

“You’re almost ready …”

I shook my head. Had to give my subconscious credit; it sure was creative. Wait until the real life Glenda heard about her starring role in my mental breakdown. Especially the part of her writing the weird symbols on my—

I stopped short, the laughter suffocating as my eyes fell upon the spidery handwriting scrawled across the back of my hand.

I leapt from my seat, my pulse racing as I stared down at the message, hardly believing what I was seeing with my own eyes. It was impossible. Crazy. How could words from a dream be written on my hand in real life? They weren’t there before. Were they? Surely I would have noticed.

You won’t know where you are. Or even who you are …

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This was stupid. There had to be some logical explanation. I must have written it myself. Sleep scribbling. That was a thing, right?

But if I had done it this morning, why was it only showing up now?

I shoved my hand under my thigh, turning back to the DJ booth, wanting to find Craig again. To focus on something real. But before I could turn my head, a flash of hot white light blinded me, hurling me backward in my chair. My hands flew to the armrests as the floor buckled, as if jarred loose from an earthquake. Panicked, I frantically scanned the room, waiting for the screams, the stampedes, the clubgoers tripping over their stilettos as they fled the premises.

But there was nothing.

The other clubgoers were talking. Laughing. Drinking. Could they not see the streaks of electricity arcing down the center of the room? Could they not feel the aftershocks? Smell the sulfur in the air?

I sat frozen in place, my heart banging against my rib cage as my fight-or-flight mechanism kicked in. Something was really wrong here. Really, really wrong. Was it me? Was I finally losing my mind for good?

“I’d like a Jack-and-Coke, please,” a man said. I turned to watch him order his drink, hoping to regain some semblance of normalcy. Focus on something mundane. Something real. Something not ripped from a psycho, delusional brain. A stranger ordering a drink. No big deal.

My heart stopped.

The man across the room was not a stranger at all. In fact, I would have recognized him anywhere. Broad shoulders, trim gray beard. And though he was dressed differently—in a black blazer rather than a silver suit, he was as familiar as the back of my hand.

The man from my dream. The one who’d chased me down. Caught me on the ladder. Sent me to the moon. He looked over, caught my eye, gave me a friendly wave.