Astray (12 page)

“Little Owl,” he says, and there’s something eager in his voice, something needy.

Pioneer’s knife comes down across my throat. I can taste my blood. I feel like I’m drowning. I open my mouth, but I can’t pull in air, not around the blood bubbling in my throat. I can hear it, a horrid gurgling that echoes in my ears. My neck and chest are wet and warm, but my fingers and toes are tingly and cold, quickly going numb.

I’m dying.

Just like Marie.

“Everything will be okay,” Pioneer says. His voice is dreamy. He brings the knife up to his own neck.

Pioneer drags the blade across his throat. A long red line grows in its wake. His eyes never leave mine, even as the color drains from his face.

I scream. The sound rushes through my ruined throat like it’s coming from the center of my being and not from my mouth at all. It sounds like a thousand people shouting in unison.

And I’m awake in Taylor’s bedroom—facedown, panting into the floor. I must have fallen out of bed. My hands are on my neck, which feels sore even though none of what just happened was real. The skin there is warm and dry and blessedly intact. I knew it would be, but I still had to check. I’m so tired of this nightmare. Pioneer’s in jail. I’m safe.

“Holy crap, Lyla!” Taylor is sitting up in her bed. Her eyes are puffy with sleep and her hair’s a mess. “I almost peed my pants that time. Do you have to scream like that
every single night
?”

Cody bursts through the door, followed by both his parents. His mom is rubbing her thigh vigorously with one hand. “Charlie horse,” she says when Cody gives her a questioning look. “Jumped out of bed too quick.”

I press my forehead into the carpet. I’m actually injuring people now with my craziness. “Sorry!” I mumble without looking at her. I’m crying. I can’t help it. I hate that I’m disrupting them each night. It’s taking a toll.
There are dark hollows under everyone’s eyes, and I’m to blame.

I use the bed to pull myself up to standing, wiping my tears as quickly as possible on the way up, praying that they don’t notice.

“Same dream?” Cody asks.

“Yeah.”

“What else would it be?” Taylor groans. She picks up her alarm clock. “Great. Three in the morning. I’ll be lucky to fall back to sleep before it’s time to get up.” She rolls off the bed and takes her pillow with her. “I’m crashing on the sofa,” she grumbles. Her mom yawns, gives me a pitying look, and limps after her.

The sheriff scratches the back of his head and then runs one hand across the top. It’s what he always does when he’s frustrated. He’s done it every time he’s come to check on me in the middle of the night. “So what’d Mrs. Rosen say about these dreams? You’ve told her they haven’t stopped, right?”

I shake my head. I was going to yesterday at our session, but now …

“I’m so, so sorry, you guys,” I say.

The sheriff pats my arm. It’s his version of a hug. Then he clears his throat. “You want us to stay? Until you calm down some?”

I shake my head. I’m not okay, but I doubt that I’ll figure out a way to be tonight. “I’m fine. I’m just gonna try
to go back to sleep.” I pick my pillow up off the floor and force a yawn.

“Okay, time to tuck back in. Let’s go, Cody.” The sheriff motions him to the door.

Cody walks over to me first and pulls me into a quick hug and kisses the top of my head. The sheriff turns away and clears his throat. I’m not sure who feels more awkward about Cody’s little display of affection—the sheriff or me. I’m still not used to Cody kissing me in any way shape or form in front of his family, especially his dad.

“Okay, son,” the sheriff says, tapping the doorframe for emphasis. “You’ll see her in the morning.”

Cody grins at me and rolls his eyes.

“Think you can get back to sleep?” he asks from the doorway.

“I always do eventually.”

The sheriff drags him out into the hallway. He doesn’t like us to be alone together in any of the bedrooms, especially in the middle of the night. More than one time I’ve come out of the bathroom at night to find him in the hallway, checking on us. I don’t think he’s entirely comfortable with our relationship, especially since we all live under one roof. And the fact that I’m from the Community probably doesn’t help either. I know he likes me, but I can’t be his dream choice for Cody’s girlfriend.

Cody closes the door and I climb back into bed and pull the covers up around me. I stare at the ceiling. After
a few minutes, when my heart finally stops pounding, I try to close my eyes and make myself fall asleep, but it’s no use. I am one hundred percent wide awake. I turn on the little lamp beside the bed and fish my new library book out of my backpack. It’s thick and every page is stuffed with words.
Perfect
. I need a nice long distraction.

Just as I’m starting to get drawn in by the story, the door cracks open. Cody’s face appears briefly. He winks and then shoves something black and square across the floor before shutting the door again. I stare at it for a second, then scramble out of bed and pick it up. There’s a little piece of masking tape across the side of it. The words “switch me on” are written on it in black marker—a walkie-talkie, not unlike the ones we used to use in the development. I slide back into bed and switch it on. It crackles to life immediately. The sound does strange things to my stomach. The sense of déjà vu is overwhelming. I half expect to find myself inside the guardhouse again, watching Brian as he rearranges his playing cards.

I adjust the volume button so it’s quieter, just as Cody’s voice floats out of the speaker. “Fuzzy-Headed Mama, are you there? Over.” I catch my reflection in the mirror and laugh. My hair is a wild halo around my head. It could definitely be described as fuzzy.

I press the talk button. “This is Fuzzyheaded Mama. What’s up?” I hesitate and rack my brains for an equally clever handle for him, but I can’t come up with anything. “Cody? Over,” I say lamely.

“Really? ‘Cody’? That’s the best you can do? My own name?”
Click
.

“Nothing else fits.”
Click
.

“Come on, I’ve gotta remind you of something.”
Click
.

“Um …” I chew on my bottom lip and think. “Maybe … Ferris?”
Click
.

“Too easy,” he answers back. “Try harder.”
Click
.

I lean against my pillow. “I’m really, really bad at this.”
Click
.

“You can do it,” he urges.

I try to, but it’s like my brain is a permanently blank page. “I got nothin’, really,” I say, but when he doesn’t answer, I keep working on it and try again. “Oh! I know, FX,” I say.

“What?” Cody says, and I laugh.

“FX—special effects. Clever, right?” I feel a little silly now that I’ve said it out loud.

“FX …,” he says slowly. I can almost picture his face as he considers it. “It’s okay—for now. Your handle, however, is absolutely perfect.”

“In more ways than one,” I say dryly, and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s smiling. We talk until I’m practically slurring my words I’m so tired. I fall asleep with the walkie-talkie still crackling beside me on the pillow. I want to feel like Cody’s still with me in case Pioneer shows up in my dreams again.

How far would you go to keep your loved ones from destroying themselves? Giving up is not an option. I won’t let it be.

—Pioneer

I don’t get out of bed when Taylor’s alarm clock starts blaring music. Instead, I pull the covers up over my head and squish my eyes shut. School isn’t what I thought it would be and today feels like it’s even more up for grabs than yesterday. Will we spend the whole day isolated in the library again? I don’t think I could stand it, to be trapped with Brian, Will, and the others, not after last night.

“Hurry up, slacker, you’ve only got about thirty minutes.”

Taylor’s up already. I uncover my head slowly.

“And I’m not helping you do your hair today. Too tired. So good luck with that.” I pull the covers down and watch as she storms through the room, her wet hair raining on her dresser and the carpet as she yanks on a pair of rumpled jeans. “I overslept after last night.” She gives me a pointed look, but she’s not angry, not really. She’s looking at me the same way she looks at Cody when he irritates
her—tender and bothered at the same time. For a split second she reminds me of Marie, but it doesn’t make me sad. It’s kind of nice.

“I’ll be lucky to pull
myself
together, let alone you.” She’s exaggerating; even soaking wet she’s beautiful, but she’ll never admit it.

I stretch and my book and the walkie-talkie fall off the bed. I pick them up immediately and shove them into my book bag. This room is Taylor’s. The only part of it that I allow myself to take up space in is the corner where my bed is. She says that she doesn’t mind sharing it with me, but I am constantly worried that she’ll change her mind, so I try to keep my clothes and all other personal items under the bed or in my backpack.

“Sorry about last night,” I say.

She stops rubbing and shrugs. “You can’t help it. I get it. I just hope it doesn’t last forever, you know? I’m exhausted.”

Her understanding always surprises me. I keep expecting her to get angry, to yell at me for keeping her up and for taking away her privacy, but she never does. It is both wonderful and unsettling—so different from how Pioneer said Outsiders would be.

“Thanks, Taylor,” I say, grinning.

She looks up at me, at my silly grin, and rolls her eyes. “Go get ready already. You’ll be late.”

I sigh and head for the showers. No matter how many
mornings I’ve been here, I still feel weird taking my shower in their bathroom or maneuvering through their halls in my pajamas.

It only takes me fifteen minutes to shower and get ready. At the last minute I decide to put on a little blush and lip gloss. Somehow it feels like I should now that no one’s telling me that I can’t. Besides, Marie would want me to, and to be honest, I’m sort of starting to like makeup.

I pull on a sweatshirt and jeans. When I left the Community, I thought that I’d run out and buy all kinds of clothes—stuff I’ve never worn before—anything other than the jeans/T-shirt/sweatshirt combo that I always had to wear before. But every time Taylor or Cody’s mom has taken me into a clothing store, I end up wandering around. Taylor picked out a few things for me, but all of them are too snug, tight in all the places I’m self-conscious about, so I’ve defaulted back to my old clothes.

When I go back to Taylor’s room, it’s empty. I walk over to the window. The blinds are still shut. Taylor never remembers to open them, so I always do. I can’t stand for the room to stay dark all day. It makes me feel like it’s underground or something. I can’t be in a place that feels that way … not ever again.

There’s something sitting on the sill. A bird.
Will’s wooden owl
, I realize with a growing sense of horror, meticulously glued back together.

My whole body goes cold. I stare hard at it, but I don’t touch it. It’s on the inside of the window. Will climbed up
the tree outside and was in this room. While I was sleeping. I feel like I might throw up. How could he do this, scare me like this? What happened to the boy I danced with that night by the river?

I press my lips tightly together to keep from screaming. I put my hand on the window latch, lock it tight. I look outside quickly, terrified that I’ll see Will or one of the others staring back at me from the tree right next to the house before I pull the blinds back down. Then I grab the owl. I hate the way it feels in my hand, the strange heavy weight of it. I shove it into the front pocket of my backpack and head downstairs. I need to talk to the sheriff, to show him the owl and tell him what happened last night in the barn. I head for his office, but he isn’t there.

“He’s already at the station,” Cody says from behind me. “What is it?”

I must look as shaken up as I feel. I glance down at my backpack. I can’t tell him about the owl, not before I talk to the sheriff. He’ll go after Will as soon as we get to school, and this time I won’t be able to get him to back down. If he hurts Will, there’s no telling what Mr. Brown and the others might do to retaliate. If Will managed to get inside this house, they’ll find a way in too. I don’t want Cody hurt because of me. Besides, it’s my problem. If anyone should have to deal with it, it should be me.

“Nothing. I … just wanted to ask him about Pioneer—make sure he’s still in jail. After my nightmare …” I don’t like lying to him, but I tell myself that it’s only a temporary
one. As soon as I get a chance, I’ll talk to the sheriff and then both of us can talk to Cody once we’ve dealt with things.

“He’s not getting out,” Cody says, and puts an arm around me. “You’re perfectly safe with us.”

Man, how I wish that were true.

“Better get a move on or you’ll be late,” Cody’s mom shouts from the kitchen.

I follow Cody into the kitchen. His mom smiles at us before sipping on her coffee. “I’ve got to go meet with the ladies about the Winter Festival again. Confirm our rental order for porta-potties.” She makes a face. “I will be so glad to get on the other side of this event.” She waves as she collects her coat and purse and then she’s out the garage door and gone. For a moment I wonder if I should go after her, tell her what’s happened at least since she could probably call the sheriff, but it’s too late, I can hear the garage door rumbling open.

“I talked to Dad about last night,” Cody says, and for a moment I’m sure that he knows what I found, but then I realize he means what happened at the trailer park.

“He said he’s going to talk to Mrs. Rosen about stopping the counseling sessions with your family for a while, especially now with Pioneer’s first court dates coming up. He thinks that they’re trying to scare you into not testifying.”

I swallow hard. I’d almost forgotten about the trial. That on top of the owl and school and Will and the
others—it’s almost too much to take. I rub my temple with my fingers.

“Hey, we’ll get through this,” Cody says. “You’re not alone. You have us.”

This should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. Instead it ups the constant hum of terror I’ve felt since I found the owl. How long before Mr. Brown and the others try to take Cody and his family away from me too?