Backwards (7 page)

“What you meant to me?” Finn replied. “All right. I’ll admit I enjoyed our time together. But you have to let go of this fantasy that things meant more than they did.”

“You’re lying,” she said.

“I’m not,” said Finn. “I know you want to believe that we shared something special.”

“Stop lying!” she said.

The zombie’s fingers dug into the wooden floor, and his stomach lurched.

“Shhh . . .” soothed Finn. “You can’t change this. I just don’t feel the same way about you that you do about me.”

“You will.”

Dan edged forward until he saw her. Cat was standing, holding a candle, while Finn reclined on the couch. Then Dan shifted to get a better view and the floor creaked.

Cat turned. She looked bewildered when she saw Dan and not at all pleased. “What are you doing here?”

The zombie scrambled to his feet. “I . . .” he stammered. Blood rushed to his face.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said.

Say something,
I urged, but his words died in his throat. He couldn’t even meet Cat’s gaze, so he focused on Finn instead. “Leave Cat alone.”

Finn gave Dan a bemused smile. “Leave her alone? What exactly do you think’s going on here?”

Dan grabbed Finn by his shirt, yanking him off the couch.
“Leave!”
he repeated through clenched teeth.

“Stop it!” yelled Cat. “Let him go.”

The strength drained out of the zombie’s arms. He turned to her, brow knotted. “Cat, you’re confused —”

“Please, just let him go.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Don’t you get it?” said Finn, pulling free of Dan’s grasp. He reached into his back pocket and drew out a folded slip of paper. It was the note I’d seen Cat write in biology class. “She invited me here.”

Dan looked from Finn to Cat. “Why?” There was something so raw and desperate in his voice, even I felt bad for him.
Why Finn and not me?
he seemed to be asking.

Cat didn’t reply.

“I know what this is about,” said Finn. “You think you can jump me away from school. You think this will make you feel better.” He shook his head, disappointed. “I thought we were cool, Dan. I tried to be your friend.”

Dan’s thoughts raged around me, making me worry about what he might do.

“It’s not too late,” continued Finn. “I’m still willing to forgive you.” He held out his hand.

Take it,
I thought.

Dan charged. It was such a spastic, clumsy attack that all Finn had to do was pivot like a matador and Dan stumbled past, smacking into a wall.

Pain exploded around me, bright as the desert sun. I recoiled, avoiding the sensation. Dan tried to punch Finn, but his fist glanced off Finn’s shoulder. Finn countered with a blow to Dan’s chest. The two of them kept fighting, only things felt duller now. Distant.

For Dan, the fight might have taken on a sort of slow-motion clarity, but for me it was like watching a poorly filmed action sequence with the camera jerking from the ceiling, to Cat’s shirt, to an empty milk jug, to a clenched fist. Dan swung blindly, and his forearm cracked Finn’s jaw. It was a lucky hit, sending Finn staggering back. Then Dan tackled Finn and the two of them skidded across the dusty floor into the couch.

Dan attempted to choke Finn, while Finn shoved the zombie’s head to the side. In the candlelight, I glimpsed a giant turtle painted on the wall. I only saw it for an instant before Finn’s hand crossed Dan’s face. I couldn’t see Cat, but I heard her.

“Dan, stop!” she screamed. “You have to stop!”

A thin, heady smell filled Dan’s senses. He shifted to get a better hold on Finn and kicked over some candles.

Instantly, the couch whooshed into flames. The heat stunned me. I thought Dan’s hair had caught fire. He leaped back, brushing his head with his hands, but he seemed okay.

Finn scrambled away from the burning couch. “What the hell?” He kept backing up, looking from Dan to Cat as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. “You’re crazy. Both of you are crazy.”

Dan grabbed a board and tried to beat out the flames with it, which ended up being worse than useless. Sparks shot onto the floor and wall. Pretty soon, the whole couch was burning and flames swept the ceiling. In the sudden light, I glimpsed giant mushrooms, rose vines, teacups, flamingos, and other odd images on the walls, until the acrid smoke grew thick and Dan’s vision blurred.

He turned to survey the room. Finn must have left. Only Cat remained, standing close enough to the burning couch to roast marshmallows on it.

“We have to get out of here,” Dan said with his typical flair for stating the obvious.

Cat kept staring at the flames.

“Cat!” Dan shouted.

Still no reaction. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the door — or at least to where the door might be. It was hard to see anything now.

He bumped into the kitchen counter and felt along the cabinets, clutching Cat’s arm in his other hand. At last they made it out, but Dan still wouldn’t let go. He led her down the driveway. Cat resisted. I was afraid she might run back into the house. Did Finn mean so much to her that she’d rather die than be without him?

Dan doubled over, coughing. When he could stand again, Cat was several steps away, staring at the house.

Smoke poured between the cracks in the boards on the windows and under the front door. A few flames licked through a broken window by the porch. Once the fire reached outside, things spread quickly. Flames climbed the shutters, skipping along shingles to the roof. Dan began to curse. “We have to go,” he said.

Cat didn’t reply.

Sirens wailed in the distance. “The cops are coming.” He tugged her arm. “Cat, come on.”

Cat looked at him, orange light glinting off her eyes. “You ruined it,” she said. “It’s all ruined.”

The sound of a screen door slamming rang out from across the street. Dan glanced over, spotting movement on a porch and the glow of a phone.

When he turned back, Cat was running across the field next to the burning house. Dan sprinted after her, but after a block he must have remembered his car because he slowed.

“Cat!” He seemed torn between chasing her and fetching his car.

She kept going. After what he’d done — wrecking her meeting with Finn, attacking him, starting the fire — I couldn’t blame her for running away. A police cruiser roared past, and more sirens pierced the quiet dark. Dan finally made up his mind and sprinted back to the road. He ducked into his car, started the engine, and pulled onto a side street.

His vision wavered with every squeeze of his heart. I think he was searching for Cat, but he didn’t find her. After a while, he gave up and drove home.

His mom was lying on the couch watching TV when he came in. He hurried down the hall, pretending not to hear her questions about where he’d been. Then he locked himself in the bathroom and doused his head in the sink. He washed his face and hands several times. Still, the smell of smoke wouldn’t leave.

By the time the zombie settled down and lost consciousness, it was late.

“Took you long enough,” said TR the moment I slipped out. “I’ve been waiting forever for you.”

“I have to find Cat,” I said, rushing past him.

“Nice to see you, too, dude.”

I explained that the zombie had burned down a house and I needed to see if Cat was all right.

TR’s eyebrows lifted. “That sounds better than my day.”

We found Cat curled up in bed. Her eyes were closed, and she kept making this low, strangled, whimpery sound, but I couldn’t see any sign of an injury.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked TR.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think she lost something.”

TR frowned. “Like what? A puppy?”

I thought of Finn, only I didn’t want to say that was it. Then I remembered the self-portrait she’d destroy tomorrow. “I think she lost herself,” I said. “I think that’s why I’m supposed to save her.”

TR gave me a perplexed look. “Dude, how do you know that’s what you’re
supposed
to do?”

“Because the zombie messed things up for her,” I said. “So I need to change things.”

“How?” pressed TR.

“That’s what I have to figure out.”

“But how do you know that’s what you’re
supposed to do
?” he repeated.

I wasn’t ready to tell TR about the message carved into Dan’s wall. He’d probably question it or claim it could mean anything. “There has to be a reason I’m here.”

TR snorted and drifted about Cat’s room, kicking a pile of smoky clothes on the floor. His foot went right through them, not moving a thread.

“This is boring,” he said after a while. “Let’s jump off a building.”

Cat shuddered. I knelt by her, afraid that I’d let her down. What if I was supposed to stop Dan from going into the house and ruining her chances with Finn, and I’d already failed? “I think I’ll stay here.”

“Whatever.” TR looked disappointed. “I’ll find you tomorrow. Or yesterday. Or whatever it is.” He paused before stepping out and smirked at me. “Good luck trying to save her, dude.”

When Dan woke the next morning, the wound on his forehead looked worse. It was like watching a black spot on a banana grow. The faint yellow-and-blue tinge of the bruise had spread around the oblong scab. I probably shouldn’t have been eager to find out how Dan had gotten injured — especially since I’d feel it, too — but I couldn’t help being curious. The wound looked bigger than I’d initially thought. It might have been healing for a week or two to get to this point. For all I knew, someone really
had
smacked him with a shovel. But who? And why?

Dan tried, with little success, to get his hair to cover the wound. He ended up wearing a baseball cap to breakfast. The rim of the cap grated against the scab, which sent a jolt of pain through him every now and then — a brisk reminder that the wound was still there.

Teagan greeted him with her usual silent treatment at breakfast. She asked their mom to take her to school again. After some discussion, their mom finally agreed, but not without commenting on how it would make her late. No wonder Teagan felt like a burden.

“Your brother still goes to school, doesn’t he?” quipped their mom.

“Unfortunately,” said Teagan.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

Good question,
I thought, wondering how Dan would field this one, but the zombie simply froze, spoon poised halfway to his mouth.

Teagan looked at him, then glanced away. “No.”

His shoulders relaxed.

“It’s just so hard to follow in my big brother’s footsteps,” continued Teagan with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

“Oh, well,” said their mom. She gave Teagan a thin smile. “You’ll have to make your own footsteps, then. Right?”

Teagan rolled her eyes and headed to the car.

After downing the rest of his breakfast, Dan returned to his room. He looked at the calendar, with its lame advice on courage. Then he lifted up the bottom half, as he’d done the other day. I almost didn’t read the words etched in the wall since I already knew what they’d tell me.
SAVE HER.
But what if I couldn’t save her? What if I’d missed my opportunity?

At first, I didn’t believe his eyes. Dan dragged his fingers over the words, feeling the coarse scratches in the drywall that formed them. This wasn’t possible. There hadn’t been anything else etched into the wall before — no crossed-out words or spackle filling in previous messages. The calendar was in the exact same place where it had been, or would be. So how on earth could the message have changed? It was carved into the wall, for God’s sake.