CHAPTER 3

Aden watched as Mary Ann walked away from him.

“Here’s her number. If you still want to call her, that is, considering her rudeness,” the girl named Penny said, sliding a piece of paper toward Aden. “The second number is mine. In case you decide you want someone a little more available.” Then she, too, stood and walked away from him.

“Thank you,” he called. He grinned as he stuffed the paper into his pocket. The grin didn’t last long, however. He didn’t know a lot about girls, but he knew that he’d made Mary Ann Gray uncomfortable. Knew she’d wanted nothing to do with him.

Had she sensed how different he was? He hoped not, because that would make convincing her to spend time with him impossible. And he had to spend more time with her. Had to talk to her, to get to know her. She really was responsible for his newfound sense of peace.

It was strange, too. The more time he’d spent in her presence, the more he’d had to fight the urge to run away from her. Which made absolutely no sense. Up close, she was even prettier than he’d realized, cheeks bright, eyes a mix of green and brown. She was smart, well able to hold her own against her friend. Any other guy would have wanted to date her, yet when they’d begun talking, he’d first experienced a wave of affection, as though he should be mussing her hair and teasing her about boyfriends. (As if he needed more proof that he was weird.) And second, that stupid desire to flee for his life.

He could think of no reason good enough to run from her. The moment he’d spotted her at the café, the voices had screamed again—he had hated that—then quieted again, and he had loved that.

How did she do it? Did she even know she did it? She hadn’t seemed aware, her pretty face innocently unconcerned.

He hadn’t decided yet if she was the girl in his visions or not. She certainly looked like her, but the thought of kissing her…he grimaced. It just felt wrong. So very wrong. Maybe, hopefully, after he got to know her, that would change.

He kicked into gear, heading home, careful to stay first on the sidewalk above the graveyard, and then the main roads. Twice he tripped over trash, stumbling forward, and every wound on his body throbbed.

Ugh, we’re gonna hurt tonight, Caleb said.

Yep. Beyond the ache of the existing bruises, in a few hours, the poison would begin to break him down, chew him up and spit him out.

You’re really starting to annoy me, Ad, Elijah suddenly said. I do not like the airstream or whatever it is that tosses us into that black hole.

“Tell me about it. The black hole, I mean.”

Dark, empty, silent. And just for the record, I’d like to know how you’re doing it.

A girl. I caught a glimpse of her, Eve said.

Julian sputtered. A girl? A dumb girl is sending us away? How?

“Is she the one I’ve been dreaming about, Elijah?” Duh. He should have asked before.

Don’t know. I didn’t see her.

Oh.

Well, I did see her, and I’m positive I know her. There’s something familiar about her. Eve paused, clearly thinking things over. She pushed out a frustrated breath. I just can’t place what, exactly, is familiar.

The others never saw the images Elijah projected inside his head. Only Aden did. So Eve wouldn’t have seen her in the visions. “We’ve only been here a few weeks and haven’t left the ranch until today. We haven’t met anyone but Dan and the other dregs.” Dregs, his name for the other “wayward” teens at the D and M.

I swear. I know her. I do. Somehow. And she could have lived in any of the towns we’ve been sent to.

“You’re righ—” Realizing that he could be caught talking to himself, Aden searched his surroundings, making sure no one was within hearing distance. He would have thought his replies, rather than speak them, but there was such a constant stream of noise in his head that the souls had trouble differentiating his words from everything else.

He was outside, the sun finally beginning to fall, the ranch on the horizon. It was a sprawling structure of dark red wood surrounded by windmills, an oil rig and a looming wrought-iron fence. Cows and horses grazed all around. Crickets chirped. A dog barked. It wasn’t the kind of place he’d ever imagined living, and he was as far from a cowboy as a person could get, but he found that he liked the open spaces better than the crowded buildings in the city.

In the back was a barn, as well as a bunkhouse where he and the other dregs slept. Usually they could be found outside with their tutor, Mr. Sicamore, or baling hay, mowing and scooping manure into a wheelbarrow for fertilizer. The chores were meant to help them “learn the importance of hard work and responsibility.” Only taught them to hate work, if you asked Aden.

Thankfully today was everyone’s day off. As he strode past the gate, no one was out and about.

“You’re right that she could have lived in a different town at the same time as me, though the odds of that are pretty bad. Still, I promise you, I never saw her, really saw her, until today,” Aden said, picking up their conversation where they’d left off. If he and Mary Ann had crossed paths before, he would have experienced that sweet silence. That was not something he would have forgotten.

Caleb laughed, though there was a sharp edge to his amusement. You keep your head down and your eyes averted everywhere you go. You could have met your mother and you wouldn’t have known it.

True. “But I’ve been shuffled from one mental institution to another, and even juvie, where no girls were allowed. This is the first time I’ve really been out in public, no matter what town I’ve been in. Where would I have met her?”

Eve’s breathy sigh drifted through his head. I don’t know.

I still think you should stay away from her, Elijah said solemnly.

“Why?” Had the psychic already divined Mary Ann’s death and now hoped to save him from the heartache of her loss? Aden fought a rush of dread. When Elijah told him when and how someone was going to die, that someone died, exactly as Elijah had said. No exceptions. “Why?” he rasped again.

Just…because.

“Why!” he insisted, the question harsher than he’d intended. He needed a good reason or he’d be hunting her down at the first opportunity. Anything for another taste of that silence.

Well, I for one don’t like how powerless I feel when you’re around her, Julian said.

“Elijah?” Aden insisted.

I just don’t like her, the psychic grumbled. All right? Happy now?

No impending death, then. Thank God.

Aden tripped as one of Dan’s dogs, Sophia, a black-and-white Border collie, tangled around his ankles, barking for attention. He petted her head and she continued to dance around him. As he stood there, an idea took root in his mind. He didn’t speak it, not yet. But he did say, “Well, I do like her, and I want—need—to spend more time with her.”

Then you’re going to have to find a way to set us free, Elijah said. Any more time in that black hole and I’ll go insane.

“How?” They’d already tried a thousand different ways. Exorcism, spells, prayer. Nothing had worked. And with his own death looming, he was becoming desperate. Not just for the peace it would give him these last years—months? weeks? — of his life, but because he didn’t want his only friends dying with him. He wanted them to have lives of their own. The lives they’d always craved.

Let’s say we did find a way out. Eve paused. We’d then need bodies, living bodies, or I fear we’ll be as insubstantial as ghosts.

True. But bodies aren’t something we can order online, Julian said.

Aden will find a way, Caleb replied, confident.

Impossible, Aden wanted to say, but didn’t. No reason to destroy their hope. When he reached the main house, he muttered, “We’ll finish this conversation later,” and meshed his lips together. All the lights were dimmed, no shuffling feet or banging pots echoing. Still. No telling who lurked where.

He knocked on the front door. Waited a while. Knocked again. Waited even longer. No one appeared. His shoulders sagged in disappointment. He really wanted to talk to Dan and put his as yet unspoken idea in motion.

Sighing, he made the trek to the bunkhouse. Sophia barked and finally raced off. Inside, the warm but fresh breeze died, air thickening with dust. He’d shower, change, maybe grab a bite to eat, then head back to the house. If Dan wasn’t back by then, he’d have to wait until next week to talk to him. He hadn’t forgotten that the poison even now swimming through his veins was going to start pummeling him in the next few hours, at which point he’d be no good to anyone.

This was just the calm before the storm.

There was a murmur of voices in the background, and Aden tried to tiptoe to his room. But a floorboard creaked, and a second later, a familiar voice was calling, “Hey, schizo. C’mere.”

He paused, staring at the fat wooden beams stretching across the ceiling and wondering if he should just sneak out. He and Ozzie had never gotten along. Maybe because every word out of the guy’s mouth was an insult. But still. Any more fights, verbal or otherwise, and he’d be kicked out. He’d already been warned.

“Yo, schizo. Don’t make me come after you.”

A round of laughter.

So Ozzie’s sheep were there, as well.

Leave. I can’t deal with another upset today, Julian said.

Walk away and they’ll think you’re weak. The pronouncement came from Elijah, therefore had a greater chance of being true. Then you’ll never have a moment’s peace.

Wrong. Go to the woods and you can have peace right now, Caleb said. Besides, you can’t fight them in your condition.

Just get it over with. Eve’s determination made her voice harsh. Otherwise you’ll worry about being ambushed all night. And sick as you’ll be, you don’t need that on your mind.

Jaw clenched, he stalked to his room, tossed down his backpack and then crossed the hall into Ozzie’s room.

You always listen to Eve, Julian whined.

Because he’s smart, Eve said.

Because he’s a teenager and you’re a female, Caleb muttered.

You’ve never complained about my being female before.

When Aden appeared in the doorway, a grinning Ozzie looked him up and down. The grin soon became a sneer. “What have you been doing? Making out with the vacuum since no one’s desperate enough to actually touch you? Or maybe you and one of your invisible friends hooked up. Was it a guy or a girl this time?”

The rest of the dregs snickered.

“It was a girl,” Aden said. “She’d just left you, so she was desperate enough.”

“Burned,” the other dregs laughed.

Ozzie stilled. His eyes narrowed.

Ozzie had been here a little over a year, which was months longer than everyone else. From what Aden had gathered, he’d gotten busted for drugs and shoplifting on more than one occasion and his parents had finally washed their hands of him.

“I’m outta here,” Aden said.

“Stay right there.” Ozzie held up a half-smoked joint. His blond hair was spiked, as if he’d tangled his hands in it one too many times. “You’re gonna take a drag. You need help with your crazy.”

More laughter.

“No, thanks.” He didn’t need “drug use” added to his already-lengthy record.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Ozzie snapped. “Smoke. Now.”

“No. Thanks.” Aden studied the bedroom. It was a mirror image of his own. Plain white walls, a bunk bed with matching brown comforters on both the top and the bottom, a dresser and a desk. Nothing extra. No wall hangings or framed photos. To help them forget the past and concentrate on the future, Dan liked to say about the lack of frills. Aden suspected it was because dregs came and went so quickly.

“Come on, m-man. Just d-do it.” Shannon, black and the biggest of them all, lounged on the pillows they’d strewn across the floor. His green eyes were red-rimmed, one of them swollen. From a recent fight? Probably. Usually, he would stutter, the dregs would make fun of him, and then he’d lash out. Why he still chose to hang with them, Aden didn’t know. “Y-you could forget what a nut j-job you are.”

Seth, Terry and Brian nodded in agreement. The three of them could have passed for brothers. Each had dark hair, dark eyes and similar boyish faces. Their individual styles set them apart, though. Seth colored thick red streaks in his hair and had a snake tattooed on the inside of one wrist. Terry wore his hair long and shaggy and dressed in baggy clothes. Brian was all smooth polish.

Saying no again was hard. Especially when it would help dull the pain he knew was coming. But he did it. If he got high, he’d forget more than who he was; he would forget about talking to Dan. And he had to talk to Dan. If Dan agreed to Aden’s plan, Aden would get to see a lot more of Mary Ann.

With that kind of incentive, he’d give up anything, everything.

“Whatever, man.” Ozzie’s cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, and smoke wafted around his face. “I knew you were pathetic.”

Do not react. “Where’s Ryder?” The sixth member of their crew.

“Dan found a bag in his room—empty, of course, or he’d be out—and took him into town for drug testing,” Seth said. “They’ll be gone for hours. Hence the party.”

“Parties are like cupcakes,” Terry said with a grin.

Uh, what?

“No, parties are like peeing in a cup,” Brian said and everyone burst into loud guffaws as if the funniest joke ever had just been dropped.

Had he been this stupid the few times he’d gotten high? Aden wondered.

A knock suddenly sounded at the front door, followed by a creak of hinges.

“We’re back,” Ryder called nervously. He must have known what they were doing.

“Gone for hours, huh?” Aden said.

Ozzie cursed and scrambled to hide the joint, tossing it inside a metal container. He slammed the lid over it to contain the smoke.

Seth grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed in a circle. Terry tossed the pillows back onto the bed. Brian scrambled around, looking for a way out. And Shannon remained in place, resting his head in his upraised hands. Then Ryder was striding inside the room, red hair standing on end, lips peeled back in a scowl.

Dan was right behind him. He stopped in the doorway beside Aden, thumbs hooked in his belt loop, baseball cap low on his head. Disapproval clouded his deeply tanned features as he sniffed the air.

“I’m trying to save your lives, boys. You know that, don’t you?”

A few of the dregs gazed down at their feet in shame. Ozzie just smirked. No one spoke.

“Finish cleaning up and then I want you to do something useful. In fact, each of you will pick a book from the box I gave you last week and read at least five chapters. You’ll tell me what you read tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

Groans erupted.

“None of that, now.” Dan studied each of their faces, one by one. When he reached Aden, he blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t realized Aden was there. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. He didn’t wait for Aden’s reply, but pounded out of the bunkhouse, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Tell him where my stash is,” Ozzie growled at him, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

“Try,” Aden said, and pivoted on his heel.

Did you have to antagonize him? Eve asked, clearly frustrated.

“Yes.” He didn’t react well to threats.

Outside, clean air once again enveloped him, and he breathed deeply. The sun had fallen some more, casting a gloomy haze around him. It was the perfect contrast to his suddenly bright mood. For the first time in perhaps forever, Aden was hopeful his life could change for the better.

Dan was a few feet ahead, strolling toward the north pasture, and Aden rushed to catch up with him. Even though Aden was just above six feet, Dan towered over him.

A few times over the past week, when Aden thought no one inside his head was paying attention, he’d pretended Dan was his dad. They certainly looked like they could be related. Both of them had pale hair (when Aden didn’t dye his to stop the blond jokes), lips almost too full for a boy and square jaws. When he’d realized what he was doing, though, he’d forced himself to stop. Surprisingly, stopping had made him depressed.

What did his real father look like? Aden didn’t have any pictures. Didn’t even have memories of him. Only thing he knew about the man was that he’d given Aden up. Which meant, he, too, had considered Aden a freak. At least Dan didn’t treat him like a mentally unstable child in need of confinement.

“Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?” Dan said when Aden reached him. He tipped his hat for a better view of the land. “What have you been up to today?”

Aden gulped. He’d expected the question, had even planned his answer. But the only word he could force out of his mouth was, “Nothing.” He hated lying to Dan, but it couldn’t be helped. Who would believe he’d been battling corpses?

“Nothing, huh?” Dan arched a brow in disbelief. “Nothing is the reason your face is smeared with gunk and your neck is eaten up with bite marks? Nothing is the reason you’ve been gone all day? You know you have to keep me informed.”

“I left a note telling you I was exploring the town.” There. Truth. He had explored. Wasn’t his fault he’d stumbled upon the living dead. “I didn’t do anything illegal or hurt anyone.” Again, truth. There was no law against killing people who were already dead, and you couldn’t hurt a corpse. “You have my word.”

Dan removed a toothpick from his shirt pocket and anchored it between his teeth. “Exploring on your day off is fine, encouraged, even, if you gain my permission first. You didn’t. I would have sent my cell phone with you, so I would be able to get a hold of you if necessary. But you didn’t give me the opportunity. You dropped the note on my kitchen counter and snuck out. I could call your caseworker and have you picked up for this.”

His caseworker, Ms. Killerman, was the reason Aden was here. She was hellishly old, probably thirtysomething like Dan, and struck Aden as, well, cold. She’d been assigned to him while he’d been wasting away in the last institution. He’d had a tutor, of course, but he hadn’t been able to leave the grounds.

He’d complained. When Killerman told him about the D and M and placed a request for his admittance, he’d been shocked. And when a spot had finally opened up, he’d been overjoyed. To think that he could now lose that spot as he’d feared earlier, without Dan even seeing that decimated graveyard…

“Aden. Are you listening to me?” Dan asked. “I said I could call your caseworker about this.”

“I know.” He peeked up at Dan, whose features were hidden in shadow. “Are you?”

Silence. Dreadful silence.

Then Dan reached over and mussed his hair. “Not this time. But I’m not always going to be a pushover, you got me? I believe in you, Aden. I want good things for you. But you have to obey my rules.”

The gesture was unexpected, the words wonderfully shocking. I believe in you. Something burned his eyes. Aden refused to believe it was tears, even when his chin started trembling. There might be a girl inside his head, but he wasn’t a wimp.

“Are you still taking your meds?” Dan asked him.

“Yes. Of course.” A lie. Truth, half truths or even omissions wouldn’t work this time. To Dan, admitting he flushed his pills down the toilet would be worse than sneaking into town. Besides, he didn’t need the pills. They made him weak, tired, his mind foggy. Which he was starting to feel anyway, he realized, swaying as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. Stupid corpse poison. Still, with the dizziness came a sense of urgency. “I actually came looking for you when I returned. I–I—” Do it, just say it. Put it out there. “I want to go to public school. Crossroads High.” There. Done. There would be no taking the words back.

Dan’s brow furrowed. “Public school? Why?”

There was only one explanation that sounded believable. “I’ve never been around normal, average kids my own age, and I think it could be good for me. I could watch them, interact with them, learn from them. Please. I haven’t missed a therapy session since I got here. Twice a week. Dr. Quine thinks I’m doing good.” Dr. Quine was the latest to try and fix him. Aden actually liked her; she truly seemed to care about him.

“I know. She keeps me apprised.”

Which was why Aden guarded his words around the well-meaning doctor, as well. Another wave of dizziness hit him, and he rubbed his temples. “If you’ll just call Ms. Killerman, she can sign the necessary papers and I can be in class by next week. I’ll only have missed the first month, and it’ll be the beginning of my new, normal life. A life you said you wanted for me.”

Dan didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “Good in theory, but…No matter what you tell Dr. Quine, you’re still having conversations with yourself. Don’t try to deny it, because I heard you just this morning. You stare out at nothing for hours, disappear, and even though I just found you with the other boys, you were stiff and angry, so I know you haven’t made friends with them. I’m sorry, kid, but my answer is no.”

“But—”

“Nope. That’s my final verdict. In time, maybe.”

“I haven’t made friends because no one here is interested.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”

Aden’s hands clenched at his sides, a red haze clouding his vision. He didn’t know whether it was from the poison or his anger. Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough, but why should that matter? He didn’t want to make friends with Ozzie and his sheep.

“I know you’re angry, but this is for the best. If you were to hurt one of the students, you’d be incarcerated, no more chances. And like I said, I don’t want that for you. You’re a good kid with a lot of potential. Let’s give you a chance to reach that potential and shine. Okay?”

Some of Aden’s anger drained. How could it not, in the face of Dan’s kindness? His determination, however, only strengthened. He had to attend that school, had to spend more time with Mary Ann. Yeah, he could “accidentally” run into her in town, but when? How often? School was in session five days a week, seven hours a day. There, he’d have a better chance of learning about her, about how she, well, temporarily fixed him.

And, for those seven blessed hours, he’d be at peace. For that, he’d do anything. Even…He gulped, not liking where the thought ended.

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving Dan one last chance.

“Very.”

“Okay, then.” Aden scanned the pasture, then glanced behind him to gauge just how well the dregs could see him from the bunkhouse if they happened to be watching from the windows. A direct view. That was unfortunate but couldn’t be helped. Hopefully, if they were watching, they would assume the drug they’d just smoked was causing hallucinations.

Are you really going to do this? he asked himself. A million things could go wrong. People could learn the extent of his abilities, decide to test him, lock him away forever. A tremor slid the length of his spine, and he nervously licked his lips. Yes. Yes, he was. There was no other way, the outcome too important.

I know what you’re planning, Ad, and it’s not a good idea. Had Caleb possessed a body of his own, he would have been gripping Aden’s shoulders and shaking. Actually, it’s a terrible idea. I don’t have to be a psychic to know that.

Last time he’d done something like this, he’d spent a week in bed, cold, shaking, afraid of every noise, every touch against his skin too much for him to bear. And with the toxin even now traveling through him, the aftermath could be a thousand times worse.

Aden, Eve begin, a lecture clearly imminent.

“I’m sorry, Dan,” Aden said…just before stepping into Dan’s body.

He screamed at the agonizing pain of morphing from solid mass to inconsequential mist, which in turn caused Dan to scream. They fell to their knees, dizzy. Colors were blurring together, the green of the grass with the brown of the cows, the bright red of the tractor with the yellow of the wheat. He was panting, sweating, his stomach threatening to revolt.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Several minutes passed before he found a center of gravity. The pain ebbed, but only slightly.

Now you’ve gone and done it, Caleb snapped.

“He won’t remember this.” It was weird, knowing he was talking but hearing a different voice come out. “We’ll be fine.” He hoped.

Well, do what you want to do and let’s get the hell out of here, Julian said. God, I can’t believe you sometimes.

Elijah moaned. If anyone ever learns you’re capable of doing this…

“They won’t.” Again, he hoped. Aden forced Dan’s hand to dig into his pocket and remove his cell phone, as if the body were his own. The hand was shaking but he managed to scroll through the address book and find Tamera Killerman. Her number was on speed dial.

Gulping, nervous, Aden connected them.

“Hello?” his caseworker answered after three rings.

You can still walk away, honey. You don’t have to do this, don’t have to risk being found out.

“Hi, Ms. Killerman.” He experienced more of that dizziness, more of that churning in his stomach. Concentrate. “This is Ad—Dan Reeves.”

A pause. A giggle.

A giggle? From calm and collected Killerman? He’d known her over a year, yet she’d rarely even cracked a smile. Aden blinked in surprise.

“Ms. Killerman, is it?” There was a breathless quality to her voice that made Aden’s stomach curdle. “Yesterday you called me sweetheart.”

“I—uh…”

“So how are you, baby, and when will I get to see you again?”

Baby? Why would she—Realization slammed into him, and he scowled, nearly overcome with disappointment and anger. Dan was married. Dan should only ever be called “baby” by his wife. A wife Aden liked. Meg Reeves cooked wonderful meals, had a smile for everyone and had never scolded him. She even hummed while she cleaned her house.

Just then, Aden wanted inside Dan’s memories; he wanted to know why the man would betray such a wonderful woman. But mind reading seemed like the only ability he didn’t possess. Doesn’t matter. Finish what you started before you’re too sick. “Listen, Ms. Killerman. I want to enroll Haden Stone in the local high school. Crossroads High.”

“Haden?” Shock dripped from her now, and Aden imagined her pretty but cool face pinching in confusion. “The schizophrenic? Why?”

His teeth ground together in irritation. I’m not schizophrenic! “Interacting with the other students will be good for m—him. Besides, in the short amount of time he’s been here, he’s improved so much I’m not even sure why he’s here.” Too much?

“That’s great, but are you sure he’s ready? When we talked yesterday you said he was progressing slowly.”

He had, had he? “Yesterday I wasn’t talking about Aden. I was talking about Ozzie Harmon.” Take that, dreg. “Aden is totally ready.”

“Totally?” She laughed again. “Dan, are you all right? You sound a little…I don’t know, unlike yourself.”

He swayed, barely caught himself. “I’m fine. Just tired. Anyway, if you could set this into motion for me, I’d really appreciate it.” Surely that was something Dan would say. “Okay?”

“Okay. I guess. But do you still want Shannon Ross to attend Crossroads, as well?”

Shannon? Why Shannon? And why had no one been told? “Yes. Talk to you later,” he added before she could ask more questions. “Baby.”

Click.

For a long while, Aden stared down at the phone, struggling to breathe, his shaking intensified. Thankfully, Ms. Killerman never called back.

Later, when Dan was alone, he’d remember his chat with Aden yet think he’d made the phone call of his own volition. He’d wonder at his motives, but would not recall the way Aden had stepped inside him. They never did. Maybe because their minds couldn’t process it. Maybe because Aden took the memory with him.

Either way, he wondered if Dan would call Killerman back and tell her that he changed his mind. And would Killerman follow through on her promise to set things into motion?

Only time would tell.

Now all Aden had to do was wait. That, and heal, he thought, as he and Dan hunched over and vomited. Great. His battle with the poison had finally begun.

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