The Gathering (33 page)

“He’s alive. We’re working on getting him out. You get to safety, okay?”

“When will I see you again?”

I close my eyes, picturing eighteen candles on a cake. “As soon as possible, I promise.”

The rest of the day passes in a frantic blur.

I’d be worried about my mom and Pete and Leela if I wasn’t so busy working on my father’s escape. We all grab a computer in the command center and search for connections. Ronie’s the one who finds it. A prison guard with a sister in our network. When she shouts out the discovery, I almost hug her.

Felix calls the woman and explains.

She agrees to contact her brother—the prison guard—and convince him to break my dad out.

It’s dangerous and crazy and about a million other things. Felix asks her what she knows about this virus. He’s fixated on the fact that my father’s inside the prison and he didn’t know about it. Felix wants to know what’s going on.

Me?

All I want is my family, alive and safe. Where evil can’t touch them.

*

Cap kicks me out of the command center. He says my pacing is driving everyone insane. He promises to alert me the second he receives word, but it won’t be for awhile, so I should go do something to occupy my mind. I spend the afternoon training in the dream simulator with Lexi, and when she’s done, I head to the gym.

Dr. Sheng says exercising is good for anxiety. Maybe if I work out for the next five weeks straight, I’ll figure out a way to manage mine. It seems crazy to me that people are going about their regular routine. Classes. Work. War tactics. I can’t join any of it. I’m all manic energy, sprinting on a treadmill. Only it isn’t helping.

My anxiety grows.

I ditch the running and try stretching, but that doesn’t help either. The what-ifs spin faster and faster, matching the acceleration of my heart. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop them. I clutch my chest with one hand, my breaths coming in short, quick spurts, and grab onto a nearby machine to keep myself upright. I try to inhale, but I can’t do it. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t breathe. I think I’m seriously having a heart attack. After everything—after all of this—I’m going to die in the basement of a haunted hospital in Newport, Rhode Island.

“Tess.”

It’s Luka. His firm, commanding voice.

Only it’s too late. I’m about to go down.

He comes up behind me. “Breathe.”

“I-I can’t.”

He places his hand over my stomach, his fingers spreading wide. “Exhale first. Push the air out.”

I do as he says.

“Now breathe with me.” He takes a calm, slow breath in, his lips right next to my ear. His fingers tighten across my abdomen. “Hold it here.”

He waits a few seconds, then exhales.

I exhale, too.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers.

My eyelids flutter shut.

All that exists is Luka’s strong, steady presence behind me.

“Picture our beach. Breathe with the waves.” His hand slides to my hip. He uses his other to gently remove mine from the weight machine and places it over my bellybutton. “You’re okay. I’m right here. Slow inhale in. Hold. Slow exhale out.”

I breathe with the waves. I breathe with Luka, relaxing against him as my heartbeat settles and the pain in my chest recedes.

He’s given me my breath back.

*

I wrap a towel around my body and peek out of the bathroom into the empty hallway. Everybody’s eating dinner in the mess hall. I hurry toward my room, the cool basement air prickling my damp skin. As soon as I step inside, Luka is there. He sits on my bed, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped, his head bent so all I see is his messy hair.

I stop in the doorway. “What is it?”

He looks up and stands. “They’re safe. Your mom just called from the Rivards.”

My relief is so profound, I have to steady myself against the doorframe. “What about my dad?”

“No word yet.” His attention dips to the towel and my bare legs.

I curl my toes and clasp the towel tighter, heat pooling in my cheeks. “I, uh, thought everyone was at dinner. Otherwise I would have gotten dressed in the bathroom.” I definitely wouldn’t be traipsing around in a towel had I known I’d run into Luka. That’s something Claire would do. Not me, even if I had the body for it.

My embarrassment seems to amuse him. “I thought we could go check in with Cap together. See if he’s heard anything.”

“I should probably get dressed first.”

He lets loose an exaggerated sigh and heads toward the hall. “If you insist.”

I grab his hand as he passes by in the doorway. “Luka?”

He stops.

“Thanks for earlier.”

“Of course.”

“It helped a lot.”

“Tess.” He looks down at me—his body close, but not quite touching mine—and tucks a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “If the only way I can help you is by helping you breathe, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

“It was so much more than that.”

He gives me a sad half-smile, then leaves me to my privacy.

I change quickly. Shakily. A combination of leftover flutters from Luka and concern for my dad. Two-thirds of my family is safe. I won’t be able to relax until I know the final third is too. I finger-comb my hair and hurry out into the hallway.

Luka stands outside. Cap’s with him. Their somber expressions have me stutter-stepping to a halt. “Did you hear something?”

Cap sets his hands on his wheels. “I’m sorry. By the time our prison guard got to him, it was too late.”

My head begins to shake.

Luka steps forward and pulls me into a hug—his body warm and strong.

Mine is cold and lifeless.

“They’re saying he died of the same virus that’s killing the other inmates.” Cap keeps talking. His voice turns into an indistinct mumble, as though he’s talking from the bottom of a deep, deep well. Or maybe it’s me who’s at the bottom. I stand there, my arms dangling like dead weights by my sides. It’s a lie. My father didn’t die from a virus anymore than Chief Fredrick committed suicide. My father was murdered.

It’s time for me to go after his murderer.

Overcome

M
y heart has turned to ice. It’s frozen over with hatred. All of it points at one singular target—the man with the scars. The man who won’t stop until he’s destroyed everything and everyone I love. He nearly ruined Luka. He almost enticed Pete into darkness. Because of him, my grandmother turned traitor and Jillian is dead. And now, so is my father. It’s a truth I can’t process. It’s a truth I don’t want to let sink in. I’d rather focus on hate.

As Joanna snores, I lay in bed, focusing every ounce of mental energy on the source of my hatred. The enemy can worm its way inside a person’s soul and take over. A Linker can hop inside dreams, which is essentially the same as hopping inside a person’s mind. Scarface isn’t a person, but he most definitely has a mind. Is it possible for me to hop inside of it?

The people I love won’t be safe until I destroy him once and for all. He’s been waiting for me. Hunting me down. He wants me to come. That’s exactly what I will do. I fall asleep with the image of his marred face pasted to the underside of my eyelids, the memory of his cultured voice crooning
Little Rabbit
in my ear.

When I wake, darkness surrounds me. A heavy, oppressive darkness—like I’m sitting at the bottom of the ocean, crushed beneath the weight of all that water. It takes strength and concentrated effort to expand my lungs. I squint into the cold, heavy blackness, but my eyes won’t adjust.

The sound of laughter rises up out of the darkness. Malevolent, bone-tingling laughter that bounces off the walls, as though coming from every direction. As quickly as it comes, it stops. The echoes fade away. There’s a loud
scritching
—like a match against cement. A small flame dances to life and casts shadows along the face I fell asleep hating. His expression is triumphant. Deranged. Gleeful. Like my presence thrills him.

“Little Rabbit, here at last. And a few hours too late. If only you’d come sooner, your father wouldn’t be so decidedly …” His mouth twists with pleasure. “Dead.”

A volcano of rage erupts in my soul. I want to lunge at him. I want to gouge out his eyes. But the invisible weight bearing down on my shoulders is so heavy, I can’t move. Not even a finger. What’s happening? Why am I paralyzed?

“After all this time, after all the trouble you’ve caused me, I finally get the pleasure of ending you.” He comes closer.

I try to jerk away, but my muscles are frozen.

“Poor Luka will be so crushed.”

I try to move again, but it’s impossible.

Panic beats like a drum in my chest. This is all wrong. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. I can’t fight him when I can’t move. I try to startle. To abort the mission. But I can’t do that either. It’s like B-Trix’s dream all over again, with the black wall of mist locking me inside. Only this time, I’m not in B-Trix’s dream. I’ve entered Scarface’s mind. I found a way inside without considering if there would be a way out.

“I can see him now, sitting by your side as you waste away, wondering what could have been had he not been so weak and powerless to protect you. Oh, I will have fun whispering those reminders in his ears. So, so much fun.”

Leave him alone!

But I can’t say the words. I can’t even breathe, and this time, Luka’s not here to help me.

“Your father got your sweet message, by the way. You should have seen his face when he realized that everything he believed was a lie. Then the hope. Oh, the hope. He really thought you’d come. He really thought he had a chance. It was a delight to watch the life drain from his eyes.”

Fury strikes like lightning, scalding me from the inside out. A giant, electrical jolt that fissures the ice encapsulating my frozen, stone-of-a-heart.

“Had I known killing dear daddy would be the thing to get you here, I’d have done it much, much sooner.” He strokes my cheek with the tip of his finger.

His icy touch sears my skin. Pain. Indescribable pain. Unlike any pain I’ve ever felt. The kind of pain that has a scream clawing up my throat and my insides writhing in agony. And yet I remain as still as stone.

“Don’t worry, Little Rabbit. I’ll make sure the rest of your family joins you soon. Leela, too. Luka can live. I’ll enjoy watching his misery.” With a widening grin, the man I hate wraps his hands around my neck and squeezes.

My eyes bulge. My body convulses. I gasp for air that doesn’t come. I can’t let him kill anybody else that I love. I can’t let my father’s death be in vain. Heat seeps into my bloodstream. It courses through my veins. Gathering and swirling. The tighter his fingers close around my neck, the more sinister his evil smile, the more the heat builds. Until it’s hotter than the agonizing cold. Until I can’t hold it anymore. With every ounce of strength in my possession, I force my palms up and release it.

Ribbons of light escape into the darkness.

Scarface lets go of my neck, his pleasure giving way to alarm. He takes a step back, but the light snatches him. It wraps around his body like the black mist wrapped around Luka’s. He tries to tear the light away, but he can’t overcome it.

His demented eyes go wide. With shock. With disbelief. With fear.

I keep my palm up, releasing more as my head splits in two. The light seeps into Scarface’s nostrils and his ears and his mouth. His body begins to fissure. Shafts of blinding white shoot from the cracks, breaking him apart from the inside out. He screams—one long, piercing note before he shatters into nothing and the world goes black.

*