Chasing Before (7 page)

“The procedure involves my dredging up a painful memory, something buried deep. Something he may have never accessed in Level Two. When I bring it to the
surface, it should force him to wake up,” Kiara explains.

“But wouldn’t he have had to come to terms with all his worst memories in order to move on?”

“Actually, it’s not uncommon for a person to still have some hidden painful memories in Level Three,” Kiara says. “Especially with couples. If you’re the one who called open the portal to come here, you might have pulled Neil through before he was ready. But don’t worry. In this case it works to our advantage. We’re not sure why, but these kinds of repressed memories work best. And I’m the best at digging them out.”

“Okay. What can I do to help?”

“Keep thinking positive thoughts. And link up with me. I’ll do the rest. He may look like he’s having a seizure, but don’t worry. That’s normal.”

A seizure doesn’t sound normal at all, but she’s so confident, it puts me at ease. I reach out my free arm, and Kiara clasps her hand firmly around my wrist. When she gets up and brushes Neil’s curls back, I’m struck by the contrast of her dark hands against his pale forehead. She closes her eyes and begins to hum a low monotone.

Neil twitches and then spasms so powerfully, I lose my grip on his wrist and it slams into my chin. The blow propels me backward, and my chair tips dangerously, but Kiara’s hold on me is like an anchor. She yanks me forward, and I fall across Neil’s bucking chest. “Pin him down!” Kiara shouts.

I grit my teeth and position my knees against Neil’s side. Pressing my elbows against my body, I put my forearms firmly
onto his rib cage and throw my weight down as hard as I can. At the same time Autumn rushes over and holds down Neil’s thrashing legs to keep him from kicking us.

Keegan jumps up to help too, but Kiara waves him away. “We’re fine.” He sits back against the wall again, but he’s alert, ready to pitch in if Kiara needs him.

There’s an insistent knocking on the door. I’m caught off guard, and Neil’s next spasm pushes me forward into Kiara’s abdomen. She absorbs this blow as if I were as insubstantial as a pillow, and continues to hover over Neil and press her energy into his pores with the tips of her fingers.

I scramble back to Neil’s side, and as I do, I catch Nate demanding to be let in. Cash strides out into the hallway and firmly shuts the door behind him.

Kiara moans like an injured animal, and Neil goes deathly still. She removes her hand from Neil’s forehead, loosens her grip on my wrist, and slumps back into her chair.

“What’s happening?” I ask frantically. Autumn should assure me that this is normal, that Neil will wake up. But her face only registers confusion, followed by pity.

It may be only seconds before Neil’s body fades away from me forever.

I gaze at his face, my fingers clutching at his dampened curls and my tears dripping freely onto his shirt.

Then Neil’s eyes pop open and he sits up with a start, a look of horror on his face. “No! Gracie!” he shouts wildly. “Don’t do it!”

seven

I SIT IN STUNNED RELIEF. Neil is alive.

But who is Gracie? Apparently Neil has been so intent on hiding her from me that he’s repressed his memories of her. We shared so many memories after the collapse of the Morati architecture in Level Two, but I’ve never once seen Gracie.

Neil’s expression vacillates between shock and confusion. And then he notices me. “Oh, Felicia—thank God! I’ve had the most terrible nightmare. There was an explosion, and you were hurt . . .” He reaches up to wipe the tears from my cheek.

“I’m fine,” I say, trying not to cry all over again. “You were the one who was in a coma. Kiara”—I nod my head in the healer’s direction—“was able to revive you by bringing one
of your most repressed memories to the surface.” I stress the word “repressed” and note that Neil’s eyes shift downward for a split second.

Neil drops his hand back to his lap. “Coma? What happened?” He looks frantically around the room. “I saw Megan get hit. Where is she? Is she okay?”

The sadness of Megan’s death wells up inside me like I’m experiencing it for the first time, burying my questions about Gracie. “She . . . she didn’t make it.”

“She
died
?”

I nod. “She disappeared from this level. Right in front of me.”

Neil presses his balled fist against his mouth, as if to stifle a scream or keep from throwing up. His eyes are wild for a fiery moment, and I know he wishes that he could have done something to prevent what happened to Megan. But then he slumps into the headboard, and the fight fades from his face.

I want to comfort him, but there’s nothing I can say or do that will make things better or bring Megan back. I don’t even notice how badly my legs are shaking until Neil stills them with a firm grip on my knee. “We’ll honor her memory,” he says with a quiet desperation, “by not letting the Morati kill us.”

Megan didn’t think the Morati were a real threat, but Neil has seen their destruction firsthand. And he doesn’t even know about William or that the librarian’s death means the Morati can snuff out any one of us. Maybe I was the real target of the bombing, and they’ll come after me to finish the job and to
get their revenge. It’s possible I’m putting everyone—in this room, in this dorm, in this level—in danger merely by being here. I should leave Neil’s bedside right now. Get as far away from him as I can so they won’t hurt him.

But I stay. Does that make me a bad person?

Cash comes back in and whispers something into Autumn’s ear. She nods and clears her throat. “Cash and I have a security force meeting with Furukama.” She strides over to Kiara and shakes her shoulder.

Kiara blinks and then rubs her forearm over her freckles. “That was intense. You’ve got a strong head, Neil. You should be feeling better soon, and it won’t be long before you don’t need us healers anymore.” She tucks her wrists under the voluminous skirts of her red dress and stands up, a little wobbly.

Neil catches her arm to steady her. “Thank you, Kiara.” His voice is warm.

Kiara curtsies and dips her chin. “It’s nothing. Healing is my calling. You’ll find your own soon enough.” She pulls Keegan to his feet, and they leave with Autumn and Cash.

Neil and I are alone for the first time since we’ve arrived in Level Three.

“Come here.” He scoots over against the headboard on his narrow bed to make space for me, wincing a bit as he does. He lifts his arm, and I tuck in next to him carefully. I melt into his side and lay my head on his shoulder. He might be safer without me, but he makes me feel safe.

Neil sighs into my hair. He runs his fingertips lightly over
my wrist and then up my bare arm. It tickles, but in a good way. I bury my face into his shirt and breathe the scent of soap mixed with smoke.

“You almost died,” I half sob into his chest. “If I had known Level Three would be so dangerous . . . Maybe we should have stayed in Level Two.”

Neil shifts his position and draws me deeper into a hug. He tilts my face up and kisses my forehead. “We can get through this. We have each other.”

“That’s why we should share a room. I don’t want there to be two doors and a hallway between us. I’ll constantly worry about you. Won’t you worry about me?”

Neil looks pained, and I can tell my words have caused a conflict within him. “I want you to stay. But . . .”

“But what?”

“I wouldn’t have felt right about living with you on Earth.” He doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “How can I feel right about it here?”

I pull away from him. “In case you haven’t noticed, the afterlife is not exactly what church taught it would be,” I huff. “The morality police will hardly come knock your door down.”

“Probably not. But even when there are no outside rules, you have to decide inside what’s right. And I’m still trying to figure it all out. That’s all.”

“What if we materialize bunk beds?” Even as I say it, I know it’s not going to fly.

He shakes his head, confirming my suspicions.

“I guess I can wait.” I kiss his cheek tenderly, even though the rigidity of his belief system annoys me. I get up and smooth my dress, materializing clean fabric in place of the blood and filth as I do. “You’ve been through a lot, so I’ll go to my room and let you rest.”

“I didn’t mean you have to leave right now!” He reaches for me, but I sidestep his grasp. He shoves out his bottom lip, and everything about him—the mussed curls sticking to his ears, his torn shirt and soot-blackened khakis—begs for me to lie down next to him and forget that he’s pushing me away.

“Hey now, you’re the one who insisted we get separate rooms.” I try to keep my voice light.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a lopsided grin. “That wasn’t my smartest move ever, was it?”

I laugh and tap his arm with my fist. “Nope. Are you changing your mind?”

“I want to—” He catches my wrist, entwines his fingers with mine. He lies down and presses his cheek against the sheet.

“But you can’t,” I finish for him. He doesn’t deny it, and my last bit of hope dies as he closes his eyes. His grip loosens, like he’s fallen asleep.

I watch him resting for a few moments, caressing his arm lightly with my fingernails, dreading the return to my own practically empty quarters. But if Neil needs time to get used to the idea of rooming together, I should give it to him.

I trudge across the hall to my room. My dad’s chair is still here, but I push it into a corner. Then I form a simple bed.
To cheer myself up I choose for the sheets and pillowcases a bright shade of Granny Smith–apple green that I admired in a department store once. I conjure up coordinating heavy drapes to cover the window. Back on Earth it always made me uncomfortable to sleep if I was exposed to the outside. Then I lie down and stare up. It should be too dark to see. I’m inside, the drapes are closed, and there are no artificial lights. There’s no electricity anywhere. But I can still see. I guess seeing in the dark is a perk of the afterlife I never noticed in Level Two because everything was too bright.

The hum that warns me of the Morati’s presence is a steady, low background noise to my whirring thoughts. Why is Gracie so important to Neil? Will he ever let me room with him? How can I get my memories back? Does Neil want to retrieve them as much as I do? And will we survive long enough to even have the chance to see more?

I sigh in frustration, turning my head to the blank expanse of white wall next to me. After being in the Level Two hives for so long, I can’t stand the color white. I leap up off the bed. I will recreate the collage of photos I had up over my desk back in Germany.

There was a family shot in the center of my arrangement, and I can see clearly in my mind how my dad has his arm around me and is laughing so hard, his eyes are almost closed. My head tilts toward him, my eyes focused on the photographer. My mother’s mouth is open, answering someone’s question probably, her attention on anything but us, as usual. I materialize the print into my hand, and it seems pretty close
to the original, with its glossy sheen and bright patriotic colors, even if it is merely a copy. Then I materialize a thumbtack and pin it to the wall.

Next I pin up photos of Autumn and me. My favorite is still the one where we dressed up as mermaids in the middle of August. We went door-to-door telling the neighbors we needed candy for our trip to visit the sea king, and my dad took a Polaroid of us when we returned from our scavenging with purple-stained lips and sticky hands. I also love the candid shot of us at the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, our heads close together like we’re sharing a secret.

I don’t have many photos of Neil. For someone who was so comfortable on the stage, Neil didn’t like to pose. I did clip one from the newspaper, from the article about his performance in
Our Town
where he’s kneeling at Emily’s grave. There were a few on Neil’s phone, but you can’t materialize electronics here. Grammy snapped one before prom with her old camera, and I took arty photos of her rosebushes to finish off the roll so I could get them developed. The resulting print was a bit crinkled because I used it as a bookmark. I’d pore over it for hours, admiring the way Neil looked in a suit and tie. I pin it next to the one of my family and trace my finger over his crooked smile.

By the end of the night, one wall is completely covered with photos and mementos. If the Morati make me disappear from this dimension, at least part of me will be left behind.

eight

BELLS SOUND, signaling what I assume is the start of my second day in Level Three. I don’t want to wear this sunny yellow dress when everything is falling apart around me. I materialize jeans and a plain black T-shirt, but black belongs to the seraphim guard. Instead I decide on a pale pink blouse with scalloped sleeves. Neutrality sounds good right now.

I go across the hall to Neil’s room and knock. Hearing a muffled voice but not catching the words, I take for granted that Neil is inviting me in. I push open the door. Libby sits in the chair Kiara used last night, and Neil is on the edge of his bed. All his injuries seem to have healed,
and he has also changed into a fresh orange polo shirt.

“Good morning, Felicia.” Libby gets up. “I’m on my way out.”

“Thanks, Libby.” Neil rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll think about what you said.”

“You do that. Remember, the best thing we can do right now is stick to our routines so everything seems back to normal. Everyone should be in class today. No exceptions.” Then she shuts the door firmly behind her.

“Did the bells wake you?” Neil bounds over and squishes me into a hug. I’m struck, all over again, by the easy way we fit together.

“No, I was up all night. I was thinking, with the Morati out there, and the bombings . . . maybe we should skip class and stay here. Maybe it would be safer.”

“You heard what Libby said.” Neil hugs me more tightly. “And besides, all we can do is stay vigilant. If the Morati want to find us, what’s preventing them from coming to our rooms?”

He’s right. I could ask Autumn to assign us a security detail. It wouldn’t be effective against a bomb, though. Or we could materialize force fields and walk around with those. But that wouldn’t work either. We’d tire out in less than five minutes.