Pretty Dark Nothing (10 page)

Except for Ruth. He’d always remembered her small hands and bright eyes, sinking farther and farther into the darkness.

“I woke up to a world I didn’t know, a world that had gone on without me. No friends left, not that I could remember, anyway. You and dad were strangers. You think I liked that? You think I didn’t want to remember my life before the accident? I tried. Months and months of therapy before I could walk again, you always pushing me to remember, Dad staring at me as if I were diseased. How would you feel? When I saw the razor, I thought it would be better for everyone. Sometimes, I still feel that way.”

“I’d keep that to yourself if I were you. Maybe they let you out of the asylum a little too soon.” Josh started to strum the guitar again, each strident cord irritated Aaron, but he didn’t stop him.

Aaron had never told Josh the real reason he’d tried to kill himself. Awaking from the coma into a life he had no memory of had been hard enough, but the visions had been the real torment. Even now, eighteen months after the accident, he felt he was only half-Aaron, half a character built on the memories of others, touch-by-touch, vision-by-vision. Everything he knew about himself came from someone else. None of it was his. With each new connection he gained a piece of himself, but he also gained the knowledge that his father would gladly trade Aaron’s life to have his mother back, that Josh didn’t trust him, that they both knew he wasn’t the same Aaron, whoever that had been. That something had awakened in him while he lay in darkness.

“Did you see Mom? Ruth?” Josh’s frantic strumming softened and stopped.

“No,” Aaron lied. He had seen them once, as he lay trapped in the coma. They had stood by his bed, bathed in light and smelling of sunshine and honey, as if waiting for something. Aaron had called to them, but they’d turned away and disappeared through a portal of light. It wasn’t until he’d seen their picture on the mantel that he realized who they were.

Someone else had been there, too: a bright being holding a carved runed sword. Something tugged at the back of Aaron’s mind. That sword, the light in the darkness, they were the key, but the key to what? He focused on the memory, a name slipped through his mind and dissolved before he could grab onto it.

“No, I never saw anything. Only darkness.”

“Then how can you believe in a god? Why were they taken and not you?” Tears flowed down Josh’s cheeks, magnifying the red rage on his face. “Answer me, Aaron! How can you believe in God?
Answer me!
”

“I don’t know!” Aaron screamed back. “I just do. Why do you care what I believe?” Aaron waited for a response but didn’t get one. He wanted to use his ability on him, but Josh would pull away if he tried to touch him, as if he knew.

“I don’t believe you.” Josh bolted, tears clinging to his cheeks. He slammed the door—his last word.

Aaron dissolved into tears, crying like he hadn’t since before the cold steel bit his flesh.
Who am I? Why did you take them and not me? I don’t understand.
He didn’t really expect an answer, but a shuffling in his brain, and the feeling of being watched, told him something had heard him. Something familiar. Something he’d met once, on the edge of death. A name. Azrael.

CHAPTER TEN

Quinn blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through her window. Her mouth felt furry, as if she’d licked a cat. She sat up and ran a hand through her hair, uneven strands catching between her fingers. What had she done? Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d been totally out of control, screaming at her mother, cutting her hair. Almost as if she’d been possessed.

Her body twitched, and her breath caught in her throat. Shadows clung to the walls, silent, unmoving, normal. Dreams were dreams and this was reality. In reality, shadows didn’t come to life—and they didn’t talk to you. Not in a sane person’s world. Temporary insanity or not, she had no one to blame for her actions but herself.

Music still blared from the radio. She stumbled from her bed and pulled the plug, drenching the house in silence. Her mother’s twenties stared at her from the floor—covered in the light golden webs of Quinn’s do-it-yourself cut. Wishing she could go back in time and make a different choice, she swiped at a tear with the back of her hand.

She grabbed her phone to check the time. Eleven-twenty.
Crap
! She had slept for fifteen hours straight. In those fifteen hours she’d missed seven calls—two from Teresa, five from an unknown number—thirteen new texts, and two voicemails.

She scanned through her text message log first.

REESE 10:45 PM: FORGOT TO TELL U. GAVE AARON YOUR #. DON’T BE MAD! *KISS* ☺ NIGHT!

REESE 7:30 AM: DID HE CALL? U HAVE TO TELL ME EVERYTHING. SEE YOU @ UR LOCKER.

REESE 8:15 AM: @LOCKER. WHERE R U?

REESE 8:30 AM: WAKE UP, SLEEPY HEAD. U R LATE!

REESE 9:47 AM: WORRIED!

REESE 10:00 AM: ANSWER UR PHONE!

REESE 10:27 AM: IF I HAVE TO SKIP ALGEBRA TO COME OVER AND CHECK ON YOU, UR SO DEAD.

REESE 10:49 AM: WHERE R U???!!!

REESE 11:09 AM: CALLING MISSING PERSONS FBI CIA IF U DON’T GET BACK TO ME IN THE NEXT 5 MINS!!!! SERIOUS!!!!

Quinn opened a new message:

I’M FINE. SLEPT IN. PHONE ON SILENT. MOM TAKING ME OUT FOR SOME QUALITY MOTHER-DAUGHTER TIME. SORRY TO SCARE U. TTL.

REESE: 11:27 THANK GOD! CALL ME TONIGHT!!!

Next, Quinn pressed the flashing voicemail icon and waited for the first message. She winced at her mother’s condescending tone.

“I tried to wake you this morning. Really, Quinn, what’s wrong with you? I called your school and told them you’re sick. Don’t think I’m going to make a habit of this. I’ve also made you an appointment with Michelle to fix that dreadful hair of yours. Be there at one o’clock, sharp. I called in a major favor to squeeze you in, so don’t be late. I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon for a last-minute meeting. Maybe you’ll feel like talking when I get back.” Her mother paused, and her tone softened. “I do love you. I wish you felt like you could talk to me. Bye.” So did Quinn. She rubbed her ear, pressed delete, and played the next message.

Aaron’s voice made her heart beat faster, her cheeks flush. Something about the way he said her name reminded her of her dream. Aaron had been there, calling to her, urging her to turn away from the darkness. She remembered seeing him on the shore, diving under the water and pulling her to safety. With his touch, the world had exploded in a bright, hot light that burned through the nightmare, and she finally slept, at peace, dream-free.

She wanted to thank him. But he’d think she was crazy. No way could he have actually been there. It had been nothing but a nightmare, and Aaron was nothing but a figment of her imagination summoned up by her unconscious. But why had her unconscious conjured up Aaron as her savior and not Jeff?

She listened to the message again. Something about him ignited an ember of trust inside her, coaxing her to tell him about the shadows and voices.

Her phone buzzed with another text.

UNKNOWN 11:28 AM: ARE U OK? CALL ME. AARON.

She paced. Had he known she was thinking of him? Could he read her mind?
Don’t. Be. Stupid.
A slap of her palm to her forehead punctuated each word. Shared dreams, mind reading, how crazy could you get? Next she would start believing in vampires.
Earth to Quinn. It was a dream.
Quinn looked at her phone. Nearly lunchtime.

I’M OK. CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE FREE.

She sat on the end of the bed and went to twist a long strand of hair around her finger, but her hair was gone. She sucked her bottom lip to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, but her phone rang, distracting her. Aaron. She took a deep breath to steady her voice, wiped her eyes, and mentally prepared herself. Not wanting to seem too eager, she let it ring two more times before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Aaron.”

“Hey.” Quinn chewed her thumbnail and tried to sound casual.

“Are you okay? I … ” He paused, and Quinn quickly filled the silence.

“I’m okay. I’m glad you called.” Another round of silence took over the conversation. Face palm. She should have given him a chance to finish his sentence instead of cutting him off. “Aaron?”

“I’m here. Sorry. I’m hiding in a bathroom stall. Mr. Minks came in just as I called you.”

Quinn laughed at the image of Aaron crouched in a tiny stall, talking to her.

“I didn’t mean to pull you out of class.”

“Geography. Yawn. You did me a favor.”

Quinn smiled. “Sorry I missed your call last night. I fell asleep, and my phone was on silent.”

“No worries. Did you have nice dreams?”

Quinn froze.

“Quinn?”

“I’m here.” He knew. He had to know. Why else would he say that? Or maybe he
could
read her mind. A mix of anxiousness and excitement gripped her.

“Dreams?”

“Yeah, you know, dreams. Those things you have at night while you sleep?”

Was he fishing? “Try nightmare.”

Another long pause.

“A bad one?”

Quinn wished he would change the subject. She wanted to talk about it, but she didn’t know how. Her leg trembled as the urge to trust him intensified.

“No worse than usual.” She pulled at a strand of short hair that fell across her eye and decided just to blurt it out. “The weird thing was … you were there. It was so real, you know, like you were
really
there. I felt your hand and heard your voice as clear as I’m hearing it now. You’re not a dream-walker or something out of a sci-fi movie are you?” A nervous giggle escaped her lips.

Silence.

“Crazy, right?”

Silence.

“Aaron? Are you there?”

Dial tone.

“Shit.”

Then her phone buzzed with a new message.

UNKNOWN 11:38 AM: HE CAN’T HELP YOU.

Quinn stared at the message. Her hands shook as she typed.

WHO IS THIS?

UNKNOWN 11:39 AM: YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE, QUINN. HE CAN’T HELP YOU. HE DOESN’T HAVE THAT KIND OF POWER. NOBODY DOES.

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: EARTH TO EARTH

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: ASHES TO ASHES

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: DUST TO DUST

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: EVERYONE DIES.

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: HE CAN’T HELP YOU!!!!

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: HE CAN’T HELP YOU!!!!

UNKNOWN 11:40 AM: HE CAN’T HELP YOU!!!!

She dropped the phone and jumped on the bed, covering her ears as dozens of new messages flooded the mobile. It tapped and danced across the wood floor.

“You don’t scare me.” She hoped the waver in her voice didn’t give away her false bravado. “Leave me alone! You don’t scare me!”

The phone shuddered two more times, spasming like a dying fish before coming to rest in a pool of light on the opposite side of the room. Her heart hammered. She scanned the corners, waiting for something else to happen.

Ten minutes passed. The sun grew brighter, and her breathing steadied. She climbed from her perch and warily approached the now-silent phone. She kicked it, drawing her foot back in case it jumped to life. When it didn’t bite her, she picked it up and turned it over. She clicked the message tab and scrolled through texts from her mom, Teresa, and Aaron. The mysterious texts had vanished.

A giggle bubbled to the surface before exploding from her lips. She was cracking up. Glancing around the room, she laughed again, falling into a heap on the floor. The whole scenario was ridiculous—dark visitors, demon texts, mysterious boys from school saving her from her nightmares—all of it too bizarre to be real.

“A phone malfunction.” She pointed at her shadow. “You’re just my imagination gone wild.” She giggled again. “You don’t scare me, you’re not even real.” She repeated the mantra over and over as she rushed to get dressed. The words steadied the creepy feeling crawling over her skin.

***

“Hello? Quinn? Can you hear me?” She was gone. “Shit.” Aaron pulled the phone from his ear and checked the settings. Full reception, over half battery life. He redialled her number.

“This person is not accepting calls at this time,” the cold female robot on the other end informed him.

Aaron checked the number and tried again. “This person is not accepting calls at this time.” Quinn had deliberately blocked his call.

First, he’d saved her from cracking her head open in the hallway. Then, he’d changed her tire, rescued her from a crazy dream, and ditched class to answer her text only to have her hang up on him in the middle of the conversation and then block his number from her phone. He shoved his cell in his pocket and kicked the stall door shut. It thudded against the latch, bounced back, and thudded again.

“I am so over it.” He stood in front of the mirror and splashed cold water over his face. There were girls out there who actually
wanted
to talk to him. He was done wasting his time on the one girl who didn’t.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Quinn had managed a full twenty-four hours without something creepy happening. No more evil messages appeared on her phone, no shadows followed her, and she hadn’t had a nightmare since dream-Aaron had pulled her from the lake. Sleep deprivation had caused her hallucinations, and now that she’d had a night of uninterrupted sleep, she could see how stupid being afraid of shadows had been.

Waking up rested, she’d been determined to have a good day, but Kerstin wouldn’t let her. Not after overhearing Jeff complimenting Quinn on her new haircut. Since then, Kerstin had “accidentally” tripped her in the hallway, dropped a textbook on her foot, and started whispering that Quinn’s new haircut made her look like a drag queen.

Quinn had spent most of the morning avoiding Kerstin’s attacks by taking different routes to class and ducking behind trashcans whenever Kerstin rounded the corner. The bathroom seemed the safest place to spend the lunch hour, so she picked the one farthest from the cafeteria. Cowardly, but effective.