Endless (Shadowlands) (7 page)

The next morning, I stood shivering inside the mouth of the cave beneath the bridge, my face tight and dry from lack of sleep, feeling the emptiness of the place in every inch of my bones. Clearly Tristan and Nadia had abandoned this particular hideout. Clearly they were never coming back.

Joaquin and Fisher stepped up on either side of me and flicked on their flashlights, joining the beams with my own. Bea, Lauren, Cori, and Pete brought up the rear. Every one of us wore head-to-toe raingear, and the mud that had splattered up our legs and covered our shoes made us look like a group of ragtag roadside-ditch workers. Bea had on a weathered Dodgers cap over her red hair, while Lauren wore a bright yellow Paddington Bear–style rain hat that hid her face down to her nose. Pete’s hair was so wet the normally red locks looked black. Cori leaned against him with gray smudges beneath her eyes and her dirty hair tied into two haphazard braids.

“Why are we here, again?” Pete asked. I noticed bandages on several of his fingers as he pushed his hood back, and the prominent Adam’s apple in the center of his long neck bobbed when he talked. “I sincerely doubt they’re here waiting for us.”

“It’s the last place we know for sure Tristan and Nadia stayed, and they left some stuff behind,” Joaquin said. “It might be a long shot, but we’ve gotta search it for clues.”

“So let’s do it,” Fisher said, his voice a mere croak. Even though it was pitch-black in here, he wore dark sunglasses that hid what I’m sure were bloodshot eyes. My heart went out to him. I imagined he’d spent the night the same way I had, tossing and turning, waking from horrible dreams of Darcy being tortured, Darcy terrified, Darcy alone, alone, alone.

I’d taken the spare bed in Krista’s room, not wanting to go back to my empty house by myself, and this morning she’d told me I’d been crying out in my sleep. So even when I’d thought I was resting, I clearly wasn’t.

“Back there.” Joaquin pointed, and we followed Fisher inside, forming a long, snaking single line.

Fisher had to duck considerably until we made it into the widest chamber, and even then the ceiling was so low he had to crouch. I flashed my beam toward the back of the cave and froze. The tools, food, and clothing that had been there yesterday were gone.

“They came back for their stuff!” I blurted.

“What?” Joaquin moved quickly to the spot and looked around. The place was empty. “Damn, T. You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that.”

“How can you take this so lightly?” I demanded. “They must have known we’d been here, and they still came back?”

“It’s like they’re taunting us,” Bea agreed.

“Spitting in our faces,” Pete said, his breath short.

“You guys! I found something.”

Cori crouched at the spot where my flashlight beam had come to rest, and tugged something out of a crack in the wall. It was a tiny piece of paper, rolled up into a tight tube. As she unrolled it, Fisher went to stand next to her, holding his light over the page. They gave it a quick glance, and Fisher paled. Cori’s eyes darted uncertainly to me, like she suddenly found me very intimidating.

“What is it?” Lauren asked.

Cori cleared her throat. “It’s for Rory,” she said meekly, holding the paper out in my direction but training her eyes on my shoes.

My pulse pounded in my very fingertips as I took the fragile page from her. Instantly, I recognized Tristan’s handwriting. My eyes darted over the scrawled lines, falling on key words like
trust
,
father
, and
love
.

“What’s it say?” Lauren asked, stepping up next to me to read over my shoulder.

“‘Dear Rory. I didn’t do this.’” My voice was cracking already. I coughed and continued to read. “‘I didn’t do this. Those coins were planted in my room. I keep seeing the look on your face that day in my bedroom, and it’s killing me, knowing you don’t believe me.’”

My voice caught and I realized this wasn’t going to work. I shoved the page at Lauren and covered my face with my hands. He was lying. He had to be. First he’d taken my father, then my sister, and now he was trying to win me back. But why? Why was he doing this to me?

“‘I will do anything to regain your trust,’” Lauren read slowly, quietly.
“
‘I’m going to find a way into the Shadowlands. I’m going to get your father and Aaron and the others back if it kills me.
’
”

She paused and I pulled my quivering hands down, watching her as she finished.

“‘I love you,’” she read. “‘Tristan.’”

The page fluttered as Lauren handed it back to me. I pocketed it quickly, hugging myself as tightly as I could to stop the shaking, and glanced up at Joaquin. He looked as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“He didn’t risk coming here to get his stuff,” Bea said, her voice barely a whisper. “He risked coming here so he could leave that for you.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Lauren said firmly. “He’s trying to fix things.”

“You don’t know that.” I didn’t mean to snap, but I did. A by-product of the tension that was begging for any kind of release. “You only want to believe it.”

“Look at the note again,” Lauren said, gesturing at my pocket. “He didn’t mention your sister.”

“So?”

“So, if he was doing this, he’d know your sister had gone over, too. He’d have included her,” Lauren asserted.

“Not if he was being smart,” Fisher pointed out. “Not if he realized a person who’d fled five days ago wouldn’t know about Darcy.”

“I can’t take this anymore,” I cried, holding my hands to my head, feeling as if it was about to split in two. “I can’t.”

“We have to find them,” Fisher said.

Bea sighed. “But we’ve looked everywhere. We’ve searched every inch of the island. It’s not like he went back to the mainland,” she added sarcastically. “So unless he’s hiding underwater somewhere…”

I felt something catch in the back of my mind. We
had
searched every inch of the island, because the island was the entire world in this in-between. Except, of course, that it wasn’t. There was the water. And the things that traveled over the water. Like the ferry, the Jet Skis, the surfboards and kayaks and canoes. And there was also one particularly foreboding structure that stood above the water. A place where no Lifer would ever think to look, because no Lifer had ever stepped foot on it for more than ten seconds.

There was the bridge.

“You’re out of your mind, you know,” Joaquin called after me as I trudged through hollows and puddles toward the bridge. I had climbed up the cliff in record time, my adrenaline spurring me to inhuman feats of strength and daring, but Joaquin had stayed right on my heels. If any of the others had decided to follow us, they hadn’t yet made it to the top. “What, exactly, do you think this is going to accomplish?”

I ignored him and kept walking. Up ahead, I saw that Officer Dorn was stationed at the bridge with Liam. They did a double take when they saw me coming and moved to intercept me.

“Hey,” Liam said, lifting a hand. His new Lifer bracelet was caught on the end of his sleeve, the leather hard and pristine. Last night, after Darcy had gone missing, Joaquin, Lauren, and Bea had given him what I’d heard was the quickest initiation ever.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dorn asked, stepping in front of me.

I lifted my face, letting the rain sluice down it and along my neck. “I’m going to find the entrance to the Shadowlands.”

Dorn laughed. At that moment, Joaquin caught up to me.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his dark eyes desperate. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” I demanded. “Has anyone ever tried?”

Joaquin crossed his arms over his chest, the rivulets of water forming new patterns down his sleeves. “Not that I know of. I mean, I’ve gone a few steps into the mist when a visitor is giving me trouble, but that’s about it.”

“So? Then how do you know I can’t do it?” I gritted my teeth and took a breath, trying to stay calm. If I got hysterical right now, they’d never let me cross. “We’ve searched the entire island for Tristan and Nadia, right?”

“Yeah,” Dorn replied. “Two or three times already.”

“So what if they’re
on
the bridge?” I asked, my heart skipping erratically. “It’s the only place no Lifer ever goes, and I’d bet that Tristan is counting on that—counting on our fear of the unknown to keep him safe. What better place to hide than the one place no one in their right mind would ever look?”

Liam raised his hand as if he were hoping to be called on in class. “I know I’m new to this stuff, but that does sound about right.”

Joaquin’s whole expression shifted. He looked at me as if dumbfounded and impressed at the same time. Which was kind of nice.

“Rory,” he said slowly. “You’re a genius.”

“Wait a minute, now,” Dorn began.

“Let’s do it,” Joaquin said, with a giddiness in his tone that I hadn’t heard before.

Dorn lifted both his meaty hands. “Uh-uh. No way.”

“You’re coming with me?” I asked Joaquin, ignoring Dorn. My terror melted away to more of a simmering nervousness. I knew I had to do this, but having company seemed like a good idea.

“Like I’d really let you snag the glory.” He smiled shakily.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but you two aren’t going anywhere,” Dorn barked.

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, and we looked up at the sky. A drop of rain fell like a dart into my right eye. It stung like acid. I pressed the heel of my hand into it and blinked it away.

“Think about it, Dorn,” Joaquin said, getting right in the man’s face. “How big of an idiot would you feel like if you found out Tristan was sitting ten feet away from you and you didn’t know it?”

“I know I’d feel like a
huge
idiot,” Liam put in helpfully.

There was a beat as Dorn narrowed his eyes. He was going to say no and have us escorted back to town or something. I couldn’t let that happen. Not when I was so sure we were this close. This close to finding Tristan, to getting my dad back, to saving Darcy.

“If we find him, we’ll let you take the credit,” I offered.

Dorn titled his head. I could see the glint in his eyes as he imagined delivering the news to the mayor that he had apprehended Tristan. “Yeah?”

“Sure. Why not?” Joaquin confirmed.

He frowned, considering, and the rain picked up, pinging off his broad shoulders.

“Okay, fine. You can go.”

“You bet your ass we can go,” Joaquin said, starting past
him.

“Thank you!” I put in.

At that very moment, the rest of our posse showed up, breathless from the climb and soaking from head to toe. Fisher had removed his sunglasses and looked seriously pissed. Pete took one look at our belligerent stances and trained his eyes on the ground, his hood covering his face. The others hung back a bit as Fisher and Bea stormed over to us.

“
What
are you guys doing?” Bea asked, her hands on her
hips.

“Searching the bridge for Tristan and Nadia,” Joaquin said, raising his eyebrows. “Wanna come?”

They all seemed to protest at once, but Joaquin and I ignored them and strode purposefully toward the bridge, Cori, Pete, and Lauren close behind us. We stepped up to the very lip, where its metal surface met the dirt of the road, and I stopped breathing.

The entrance was entirely obscured by swirling fog. The eerie hiss of the mist sent a shiver right through me. I pressed my fists together in front of me to try to keep myself from shaking noticeably.

You can do this
, I told myself. I couldn’t even imagine how the bridge had looked to my father and Darcy. At least I had a choice. They had been dragged over against their will, terrified, probably screaming for help.

Joaquin and I looked at each other. He had my back. I could see it in his eyes. My fingers suddenly itched to hold his hand.

“You guys! Don’t do this!” Bea said, storming over to us. She shoved her hood off her hair to look us in the eye. “You have no idea what might happen to you. Good people are getting sent to the Shadowlands. How do you know you’re not just going to get sucked in there, too?”

“We don’t,” Joaquin said.

Lauren whimpered and cuddled into Fisher’s side. He covered his mouth with one hand, and even from a few yards away I could see that he was shaking. Cori paced back and forth, gnawing on her lower lip.

“I can’t be here for this,” Pete said, pulling his hood on as he stepped back and away from the group. “I can’t look.”

With his head down he marched off, Liam watching his back as he went. Liam was the only person who didn’t seem completely disturbed by what we were doing. Which made sense, since he could never have grasped the real gravity of the situation. He’d never seen anyone go over the bridge, never ushered anyone himself, never experienced the horror I’d felt when Aaron had gone to the Shadowlands after I’d sent him on his merry way. To him, this was just a creepy bridge. He’d never seen firsthand what it could do.

“I have to do this, Bea,” I said quietly. “If there’s a chance he’s on the bridge, I have to find him. I have to help my family.”

Bea’s eyes suddenly flooded with tears. “Don’t. Rory, you don’t—”

I reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” I told her, barely believing it myself.

She looked desperately at Joaquin, but Fisher was the one who spoke up. “Jay, you’re not really going to do this. You’re not seriously going to tell me you think this is a good idea.”

“It may not be a good idea, but it’s the only idea we’ve got,” he said.

He reached over to take my hand and gave it a squeeze. My heart flooded and a faint blush crept up my cheeks. “You ready?” he asked.

I nodded, even though, of course, I wasn’t. “Let’s go.”

“No,” Lauren cried. “You guys! No! Don’t do this! Don’t—”

We took our first step into the wall of fog, and her frantic pleas were cut off. It was as if someone had hit a cosmic mute button and the world went silent, save for the mist. I took a breath. The fog undulated as I exhaled. Joaquin’s arm was warm and steady. He gave me a bolstering look.

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay.”

We took another slow, tentative step. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth. The air grew markedly colder with each breath. Joaquin adjusted his grip on my hand, and I could feel the slick sweat that had pooled between our palms.

“Tristan?” he called loudly, clearly.

There was nothing. Nothing but the hissing of the mist. We walked a bit farther, and I realized suddenly that it wasn’t even raining here in the murky grayness. The bridge was immune to the weather. Except for the fog.

“Tristan?” I said, then gulped. “Nadia?”

It was worth a try, but there was no response. My spine crawled, and I steeled myself, holding on tighter to Joaquin’s hand. Even if they were here, they wouldn’t be able to see us any better than we could see them. Right?

We took another tentative step. Another. And then we heard the laugh—and the whispering. Joaquin and I froze.

“…look at them…”

“…she thinks that she’s…”

“…can’t even…”

“…dead…”

A cold dread settled in my bones. I stood, holding my breath and listening.

“Who’s there?” Joaquin said at full voice.

The response was a single, sarcastic laugh. Male, female—I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that it was laughing at me. Then, a single icy finger trailed ever so slowly down the back of my neck. I gasped and then realized with a sinking feeling that I was no longer holding Joaquin’s hand. It was as if someone had grabbed him from behind and dragged him away so fast he didn’t even have time to scream.

“Joaquin!” I shouted. “Joaquin!”

The mist gathered around the spot where he’d stood, forming into a perfect wall as if he’d never even been there. Hot tears of terror coursed down my face.

“Joaquin! Where are you?” I could still feel the warmth of his fingers against mine. “Where are you?”

Silence, as complete and total as death. My fingernails drilled into my palms. I was alone.

Someone blew on my neck. I let out a screech and whirled around. Nothing but the mist.

“Stop it. Please,” I whimpered. “Please. Please don’t hurt him. I just want to find my sister. My dad. Please just leave us alone.”

“Rory!” a voice sang out teasingly. “Rooooreeee!”

And then, the whistling. “The Long and Winding Road.”
It was being whistled directly into my ear.

I ran for my life, forgetting everything other than my own survival. I sprinted straight ahead—away from the voice—barreling through the fog, certain at every moment that I would run right into the waiting arms of my tormentor, Steven Nell. I looked over my shoulder, to the left, to the right. There was nothing but the mist. The unforgiving, unrelenting mist.

As I kept running, an awful thought began to scratch at the back of my mind. What if I ran right into the Shadowlands? But no. It wasn’t possible. I needed a coin to open the portal. My only hope was to stay on the bridge. To keep going. If I kept going, maybe I’d find Joaquin or Tristan or Nadia—someone. Anyone who could tell me how to find my way back.

I was panting. About to pass out. How long had I been running? How long did I have to go before I—

“Rory, honey, stop.”

“Mom?”

I tripped. My knees hit the metal roadway with a jarring slam. I gasped in relief. I’d heard my mother’s voice. I’d
heard
her. I sucked in a few breaths, my lungs on fire, and tried to focus, pressing my palms into the grooved metal ground. I took comfort in its very existence. At least it was familiar. It was something real.

“Mom?” I pushed myself up again, turning around in circles. “Mom?”

“…which way is she…”

“…doesn’t know…”

“…so naive she is, so very…”

“…straight ahead, honey. Straight ahead.”

Something moved in the mist, and I ran toward it. “Joaquin?” I paused and gathered myself, squinting. Suddenly I smelled something familiar. The spicy scent of Tristan’s shampoo. I felt his presence as clearly as if he were standing beside me, holding my hand. It was as if I could hear his heartbeat.

“Tristan?” I said, my voice cracking. “Tristan, is that you?”

There was a clearing up ahead. I could almost see. Was it the portal to the Light? The Shadowlands? Was it Joaquin? Tristan? Was my mother really here? I ran as fast as I could, holding on to hope, trying to blot out the fear. But as I ran, something pulled at my hair. Not the fog, not the rain, but something alive. Long, hungry fingers reached for me, snagging in my hair, trying to drag me back. The harder I ran, the farther they reached, now scratching at my ears, now whisking against my cheeks.

“…don’t go, don’t go, we can’t let you go…don’t go, don’t go, we can’t let you go…”

“Help me!” I screeched. “Someone, help me!”

I stumbled forward, my lungs burning. All I could feel were my feet pounding the ground and fear coursing through my veins. I ran and I ran and I ran until the rain suddenly battered my face—and I collided with Joaquin.

“Rory?” he said, grasping my elbows. “Oh my god. I thought I’d lost you.”

“You’re here!” I threw my arms around him and hugged him. “You’re all right!”

Joaquin cupped the back of my neck with one hand and tilted his head into my hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

When I finally got control of myself, I looked up, over his shoulders. The others were still standing there, in the exact same poses they’d been in when we left. I looked over my shoulder at the bridge, disoriented. I’d run in a straight line, hadn’t I? How could I have come back to the exact spot I’d left?