Part 3 (1/2)
No, not again. My body ignites with flames. I scream as a tunnel opens up and swallows me.
Chapter 4.
My first death omen happened when I was four. My grandma Nelly came to live with us, back when things were somewhat normal and hadn't completely gone to s.h.i.+t yet. Grandma Nelly was old and suffered from dementia. By the time she moved in with us, she was fairly gone-forgetting things, wandering off in the middle of the night. My grandpa had pa.s.sed away several years before and there was no one to take care of her. Eventually she started to suffer from hallucinations. She forgot who everyone was. The night she died, she snuck into my room and sat down on the bed next to me. I'll never forget that night-it changed my life forever.
She took off her necklace and placed in my hand. ”Here, Emmy, this is yours now.”
The oval pendant filled up the palm of my hand. ”Grandma, what are you doing?”
”Do you feel that, Ember?” Her eyes lit up with antic.i.p.ation as she took my hand and placed it over her heart.
Her heart beat rapidly beneath my palm. I sat up, confused. ”Feel what, Grandma? Your heart?”
She shook her head excitedly. ”No, Emmy, my life. Do you feel it leaving?”
”No,” I answered and glanced at the door. ”Are you okay, Grandma? Maybe I should go wake up Mama.”
”No, no,” she whispered. ”You need to listen closer, Emmy. You'll hear it-my life slipping away. You need to take it, okay?”
There was something momentous in her eyes, so I shut my own and listened to the flutter of her heart, the whisper of her breath, the lull of her blood as it danced through her veins. There was warmth, then coldness. A light flickered inside me and for a moment, I felt powerful. When I opened my eyes, she was lying on the bed. Her eyes were shut and she looked peaceful. I let her lay there for a while before waking up my mother and telling her Grandma was gone.
My mom asked what happened, so I told her. She looked at me like it was my fault. And maybe it was. I had felt her life leave her body and my own life grow. After the funeral, my mom sent me to live with my dad, the mechanic/car thief. He did his best raising me until he vanished. Then it was back to live with my mom and my brother.
”Open your eyes,” a deep voice a.s.serts. ”Come on, not yet. Open your eyes, G.o.dd.a.m.n it.” The whisper alters to a desperate plea. ”Please, Ember... Please wake up... You have to be one of them-I know you are.”
Soft lips touch mine and a jolt of life slams my heart, like a defibrillator charged it to life.
”Take it, please...” the voice begs. ”You have to take it.”
Something soulful and poetic whispers for my mind to bring my body back to life. Then the life of another connects to every part of me and lifts my body to life. My heart expands and sends the blood flowing through my body again. A hand presses firmly against my heart and my lungs swell. My eyelids open and water rushes up my throat. I hack up dirty water until oxygen flows through my lungs again. I think I spot my body floating up above me in the trees, but everything's blurry, like an unfocused camera lens. I rub my eyes, gradually sit up, and the body evaporates into the night sky.
”Are you okay?” my rescuer asks, coughing.
I dry my eyes with my fingertips. ”I think so... How did you...” What the h.e.l.l was that?
The moon reflects behind the hazy clouds and rain sprinkles from the sky. The gorgeous guy from the party kneels on the rocky sh.o.r.eline next to me. His black hair is damp and beads of water drip down his pale skin. The silver skull on his necklace glints in the moonlight and his long, black eyelashes flutter against the rain. His beauty is breathtaking and I almost forget where I am.
”Did you... did you jump in and save me?” I cough with my hand over my mouth.
He watches me in a way no one has ever done before, like I'm something valuable. ”Yes... I thought I lost you for a second, though.”
I eye the cut forehead and the dark half-circles under his eyes that weren't there at the party. ”Are you okay?”
He nods, his eyes doing a slow sweep of my body. ”I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about.”
”What happened?” I smooth back my drenched hair. Did I just die?
”I'm not sure,” he says, befuddled. ”I was driving home from the party and saw the guard rail crushed to pieces. It wasn't that way when I drove up, so I thought I'd check. I saw your car sinking into the lake, so I ran down and jumped in.”
”That was very brave of you.” I hack up water; my lungs feel bruised.
”I think we need to call an ambulance and get you checked out.” He stands up and brushes the dirt and pebbles off his jeans. ”That was a pretty bad crash and you weren't breathing when I pulled you out.”
Metal fragments of the Challenger spot the rocks on the hill. Bits and pieces of what happened rush back to me. ”I think the brakes went out and then I think someone ran into me.”
His eyes widen. ”And then they just left you.”
I shrug. ”They probably thought I was dead.”
He swallows hard and then clears his throat. ”You have to report this. It's basically like a hit and run-this is partly their fault.”
”No, it's not. My brakes going out caused it.” I delicately touch the side of my throbbing head. ”Although, I'm not sure how they went out. And I just checked the brake pads and lines.”
Did someone cut them? Like the owner of the car who ran into me? Or the creeper with the X tattoo on his eye? But who would want to hurt me? A lot of people, come to think of it.
He arches an eyebrow, shooting me a peculiar look. ”You change your own brake pads?”
”My dad was a mechanic,” I explain. ”And he liked to teach me while he worked on cars.”
”Was a mechanic?”
”He died a few years ago.”
”Sorry, I know how hard that is. I lost my dad too.”” He extends his hand to help me to my feet. ”My cell's in my car. Do you think you can walk? Or can I carry you?”
I love the idea of him carrying me, but he would have to touch me, so I pa.s.s on his offer. ”I think I'm okay walking...” I tense as his fingers graze my knuckles, slide down the back of my hand, and thread through my fingers. No one has ever touched me like this before without death suffocating me. There's no blood, no pain, no expiration date. It's exhilarating and terrifying, like street racing.
His eyes stay on me as he pulls me to my feet. Once I'm standing, he slips an arm around my lower back. The rain pours down on us as we hike up the hill. My legs feel heavy as weights and my skin is scratched and bruised. I touch a tender spot on the hollow of my neck and then panic.
”Oh my G.o.d.” I turn back to the lake. ”I lost my necklace.”
He moves in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. ”I'm sorry. Was it important to you?”
”My grandma gave it to me before she died.” I watch the lake ripple from over his shoulder, picturing the necklace floating to the top. But my imagination isn't powerful enough to return it and I force my attention to the hill.
”So you never told me your name,” I say as we hike up the loose gravel.
He hand tightens on my waist as we maneuver over a steep lip of the hill. ”Asher... Asher Morgan.”
”Did you just move to Hollows Grove?” We break off the hill and onto the highway. The rain lets up, but the ground is mush, mud, and puddles. My clothes are soaked and weighted with dirt. ”I've never seen you around school before.”
”Monday will be my first day.” He turns down the road, with his arm still around me, and walks a line near the guard rail. ”My mom and I just moved from New York.”
”Why on earth would you want to move here?” I glance back at the dark, empty road.
He chuckles softly. ”For the beautiful scenery.”