Текст книги "Hereafter"

Автор книги: Tara Hudson

Соавторы: Tara Hudson
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 18 страниц) [доступный отрывок для чтения: 7 страниц]

“Grow it? You mean, with all the plants?”

For some reason Eli’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “With those, and . . . other things. Listen,” he commanded, and then cupped his hand to his ear.

I obeyed thoughtlessly, clamping my lips tight and focusing on the quiet around me. Initially I couldn’t hear anything, except perhaps the weird echo of silence, like the kind you hear when you press your ear to a seashell.

Then, just over the silence, I heard them. Faint at first, but growing in intensity.

Whispers. A chorus of them.

“Who . . . ?” I started, but Eli pressed a finger to his lips, indicating I should stay quiet.

The whispers continued, hushed and insistent. I couldn’t be certain, but after a few more seconds, I thought they sounded . . . desperate. Frantic.

Something about them frightened me.

“What are those voices, Eli?” I demanded shakily. “Tell me now.”

“I think you already know.”

“People?” I whispered.

“Well,” he said with a sly grin, “they used to be.”

I gulped, feeling strangely dizzy. “What exactly is your job here, Eli? Really.”

He sighed as if relieved I’d finally asked an important question. “I’m not only a guardian, but also a sort of recruiter. I’ve been chosen to usher certain newly dead souls to this place. Some of those voices you heard are my charges—souls I was ordered to bring over.”

“Other ghosts?”

Eli nodded. “I think you saw a few of them yesterday actually.”

I thought back to the flitting shapes along my peripheral vision. I looked wildly to either side of Eli, at the empty riverbank. “Where are they now?”

“I told them to stay away for a while so you and I could talk.” He jerked his head toward the line of weird trees behind him. “Mostly, they stay in there until I need them.”

“Are you . . . their boss or something?”

Eli shrugged, but the gesture looked prideful. Almost self-satisfied. “I recruit them for my masters. In return, my masters give me power over this place, and the recruited souls in it. The souls follow my commands and help me with whatever I need. On big missions they definitely come in handy.”

I tried not to shudder, thinking of what a “big mission” might mean to Eli. “And these ‘masters,’ the ones who gave you this job—are they in those trees too?”

He laughed as if I’d said something ridiculous. “No, of course not, Amelia. This is my realm. Over there, however . . .” He trailed off, looking over my shoulder. I followed his gaze to the place where the river moved sluggishly under High Bridge. To the space where the black hole had appeared yesterday.

A few details clicked into place in my mind, and I moaned. “You trap people in this world? On orders from whoever lives in that . . . that hellhole?”

“Only because this is where these souls belong. And that darkness over there isn’t hell. It’s just one of the places where the higher powers go when they’re not giving me my instructions.”

Eli sounded sincere. But I shook my head vigorously against his words. No soul deserved to stay in this dark forest, trapped forever, unable to move between worlds like Eli and I obviously could. No matter who, or what, had ordered it.

Thinking about what it might feel like to be trapped inside the dark forest or, God forbid, somewhere in that sightless chasm below the bridge, a thought struck me. A terrifying one.

I raised my eyes to his again, searching their pale blue depths. “What about me, Eli? What about my soul?”

The corner of his lip quirked upward. “Ah, now we get to the real heart of the matter. Isn’t that why we came down here in the first place? To talk about your nature?”

“Yes, and . . . ?” I pressed. “What does my nature have to do with this place?”

He gestured behind him with one arm. “Aren’t you wondering why I haven’t made you one of those shadows yet? Why I’ve let you wander, for far longer than I usually allow a soul to remain in the living world?”

I tried in vain to repress a shudder. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“Because you’re special, Amelia.” He began to take slow, deliberate steps toward me.

“Yeah?” I kept my voice as casual as possible, all the while moving backward, away from him. “How am I special?”

“Thanks to the grace of my masters,” he said, still moving forward, “I’m allowed to keep one newly dead soul for myself. As an . . . apprentice. When I saw you, when I watched you, I knew you’d be perfect.”

“Why?”

“Because you belong with me, Amelia. You’re a kindred spirit.”

Eli’s words echoed in my brain like repetitions of my earlier fears. So I was evil? Everything within me rallied against the suggestion. I didn’t believe it. I just didn’t.

“No,” I insisted, shaking my head again. “No, it’s not true. I don’t belong here.”

“But you do.” With just a few, quick strides, Eli closed the distance between us. He leaned over and placed his hands beside my shoulders, hovering above my skin without actually touching me.

“You’re fated to help me with my task—I knew it from the first moment I saw you.” He shrugged again, but this time the movement looked decidedly less casual. “You have to help me, Amelia. Otherwise I’ll have no choice but to trap you here and keep you from ever going into the living world again. Unless you’re obeying my orders, like the mindless wraiths back there.” He jerked his head meaningfully toward the forest again.

Anger and terror bubbled up inside me.

“No!” I shouted into his face. “I can’t stay and help you condemn people to this place. I won’t.”

Without waiting for his reaction—which would undoubtedly be unpleasant—I turned to flee. Of course, I had no idea where to flee since I was directionless in this world. I spun around, searching for some point of orientation, flinging my arms this way and that.

Something brushed my outstretched hand—Eli’s fingertips maybe. Whatever made contact with my skin, it plunged me into a brutal cold, shooting what felt like ice water through my veins. The cold came on so fiercely, so violently, my vision began to blur.

I heard Eli call out, “Amelia! Wait!”

Then the dark water of my nightmares enveloped me entirely.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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Chapter

Twelve

I bolted upright, gasping.

I couldn’t process any rational thought. I could only swallow panicked gulps of air. Soon, though, my instincts reminded me to protect myself from any nearby threat.

Such as Eli, or his “masters.”

A quick scan of the area showed no sign of Eli. Still, my heart sank. I now sat in a field of headstones, each throwing a shadow in the bright sunlight. There was no mistaking my location. I was in the graveyard in which I always woke after a nightmare.

I sighed and closed my eyes. This nightmare—my first since meeting Joshua—had been different from the others. This time when I struggled against the river, I’d heard things. Voices, much like the desperate whispers in the dark netherworld. Except that in my nightmare the voices sounded more raucous. Almost frenzied.

I shook my head. Voices or not, this dream had the same effect on me it usually did. I’d lost valuable time while thrashing about in that stupid river. Opening my eyes, I assessed the sunny day—so welcome after all that darkness and ice—and prayed it wasn’t too late to keep my promise to meet Joshua. I pushed myself up into a standing position and stretched each hamstring, although I hardly needed to.

“Speed, Amelia,” I told myself aloud. “Think speed.”

And I began to run, as fast as I possibly could, in the direction of Joshua’s school.

I breathed an enormous sigh of relief when I finally came upon the Wilburton High School parking lot, which was still crowded with cars. I wove between the back rows of them to get a better view of the school itself. Outside the low buildings students milled around, waiting for the end of the lunch period, I hoped.

I turned my attention to the cars, searching. A number of black sedans filled the parking lot, but soon I managed to spot the most familiar one. I walked over to it, moving as quickly as I could while simultaneously giving my dress a brief look-over. Once I was relatively certain I didn’t look like a crazy person who’d just woken up in a graveyard, I stood next to the driver’s side window of Joshua’s car and clasped my arms behind me.

Joshua sat in the car with his head resting on his arms, which he’d laid upon the wheel. After only a few seconds, he looked up. The noon sun lit up his face and, for a moment, I blinked in surprise.

He looked terrible, at least as terrible as someone like Joshua could look. His hair was a mess, dark circles ringed his eyes, and he could have used a good shave. But when those midnight blue eyes caught mine and he smiled, I couldn’t help but sigh happily.

Wait, he mouthed, and then leaned over to the passenger side. I heard a metallic pop as the passenger side door opened, so I circled behind the car and slipped into it. Joshua pulled the door shut beside me.

Still leaning across me, his mouth dangerously close to my ear, he murmured, “Hey, Amelia.”

“Hey, Joshua,” I murmured back, keeping my hands firmly planted in my lap instead of wrapped around his neck, where they wanted to be.

Joshua leaned back into his seat and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn. The attempt made me smile and helped me refocus on what we needed to discuss. Taking in his rumpled appearance, I decided to start with the obvious.

“Um, Joshua? You know your shirt’s inside out, right?”

He looked down at his gray T-shirt. “Huh. How about that.”

In one swift move Joshua pulled the shirt over his head and flipped it to the correct side. I now had a full view of his chest and abs, and, suddenly, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, obviously, except for the fact that I also started to choke. Joshua watched my entire struggle from the corner of his eye, grinning as he pulled the shirt back over his head.

I tried desperately to compose myself. Finally, I managed to calm down enough and ask, “So, something makes me think we should talk about your night first?”

Joshua laughed and rubbed one hand over his stubbled jaw. “Okay, me first then.” He stretched out his legs and then gave me a strange, appraising look. “My night was . . . interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well, the Mayhews had a long debate about Ruth’s mental health, which is ironic if you consider I’m the only one who knew for sure she wasn’t crazy.”

I grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling grimly. “It didn’t even compare to the ungodly long lecture I got from Ruth after she convinced everyone else of her sanity.”

“She lectured you about being late for dinner?” I asked hopefully, foolishly, although I already knew the answer.

Joshua’s smile turned gentle, but his expression made it clear what he was about to say. “No, Amelia. She lectured me about you.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Calm, I told myself. Stay calm.

In my most nonchalant voice, I asked, “Oh? And what did she have to say?”

Joshua laughed bitterly. “What do families usually say? ‘Stay away from that one, she’s trouble.’ Of course, in this case, the ‘trouble’ is something a little weirder than a girl who smokes or has too many body piercings.”

I grimaced again. “To put it mildly, right?” I moved for the door handle, even though I couldn’t use it. “If you would just open this for me, I can get out of here and stop screwing up your life. . . .”

“Amelia.”

Joshua’s tone made me turn back to him. He gave me another gentle smile. “Why don’t you listen to my whole story before you go running off?”

Warily, I settled back against my seat. “Okay. I can do that. For now.”

He angled his body toward me and, betraying his exhaustion, closed his eyes as he spoke. “For the sake of timing, I’m just going to give you the main points. Point number one you already heard: Ruth thinks High Bridge and the river under it are evil.”

“No argument here,” I muttered. Joshua popped an eye open, so I added, “I’ll tell you about that later.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes again. “According to Ruth, after my dad was born she basically insisted the family move to this area for the sole purpose of guarding the river . . . keeping people safe from whatever controls it. Supposedly, lots of people have done the same thing, including her friends and their families. Because the area’s so ‘supernaturally charged’—Ruth’s words, I swear.”

Joshua snorted and shook his head. After another long pause he went on. “That’s point number two, and the real reason Ruth’s friends have always acted so spooky: they really are a group of—I don’t know—ghost hunters. Their whole mission is to keep on the lookout for ‘unclaimed’ spirits and banish them. Exorcize them. They’ve been hunting a specific unclaimed ghost for years. Some guy, Ruth said. But when you showed up at the house . . . well, you can just imagine Ruth’s frenzy, right?”

I leaned back in my seat, shocked.

Were “claimed” spirits actually the recruited souls Eli had confined to the supernatural world? Would that then make Eli an “unclaimed” spirit, one that could walk between worlds?

Eli had to be the ghost they’ve been hunting. So . . . did that mean they would start hunting me too?

Was I also an unclaimed spirit?

Shaking my head with a weak laugh, I asked, “Doesn’t it feel good to know your grandma isn’t actually crazy?”

The corner of Joshua’s mouth lifted, but not very high. “Not really, Amelia. Not when we get to point number three. Apparently, the Witches of Wilburton want me to join their little coven.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Ruth says it’s my heritage. My destiny, whatever that means. I come from a long line of ‘Seers,’ and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Seers?”

“Yeah. People who can see the supernatural. Unclaimed ghosts, mainly. Ruth says I’ve probably always been able to sense them without really knowing what I was sensing. That’s why she told me those ghost stories when I was a kid—as some sort of training. The only way to see ghosts outright, though, is to go through some sort of ‘triggering event.’ Something that forces you into an awareness of the spirit world.”

“Like meeting a dead girl right after your heart stops?”

“Exactly like meeting a dead girl right after your heart stops.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Ruth says the only reason I’m even drawn to you is . . . I don’t know . . . my genetic predisposition to exorcise you. Her version of a Seer is someone who does something with their ‘gift,’ not just enjoy its benefits like I’ve been doing. In other words, Seers use the gift of sight against ghosts. Apparently, this is what I’m supposed to do when it comes to you.”

A heavy silence fell over the car. Inexplicably, my eyes glued themselves onto the dashboard. After a few seconds of searching for invisible patterns in the leather dash, I stirred. When I finally looked back at Joshua, his eyes were still closed, his body still motionless.

“So,” I whispered, “does this mean you don’t want my help in Calculus anymore?”

Joshua’s eyes shot open and locked onto mine. I felt a little dizzy staring into all that dark blue, even when he didn’t laugh at my lame joke.

“That’s point number four,” he said. “You see, my grandmother makes a pretty hard sell about me not hanging out with you.”

Although he kept his voice soft, I flinched. I didn’t want to hear what was coming; I really didn’t.

Joshua surprised me, however, by smiling as he went on. “But I’ve got to tell you, Amelia, I really don’t want to add a coven to my list of extracurriculars.”

I parsed through his words slowly and felt myself start to smile. “And here I thought you were such a joiner.”

Joshua merely laughed, but I wanted to push the issue further. “Just so we’re clear: you’re not going to become a Seer and hunt me down for exorcism?”

“I don’t think I can stop being a Seer,” he said. “It’s just part of who I am now, I guess. But as for all the stuff about the banishment of ghosts . . . thanks but no thanks.”

The little ache in my chest unfurled for the first time in hours. Before I got too far ahead of myself, however, I had to be sure of one more thing.

“Just so we’re, you know, even clearer,” I pressed. “You’re not going to embrace your heritage because . . . ?”

Joshua grinned, wry and sweet like the first time he smiled at me on High Bridge. “Because I can’t hunt you and be with you at the same time, can I?”

“‘Be’ with me?” I whispered.

Joshua didn’t answer. Instead, he held out his hand.

I stared at his outstretched arm for a moment, unsure of what to do. What a scary, thrilling idea—holding his hand, touching him for more than a few brief seconds. Shaking a bit, I tentatively stretched out my hand and let it fold into his.

Once again pulsing fire shot through my veins. Joshua and I responded as we had the first time we touched: gasping, smiling, reactively trying to recoil from the shock of it. But we both fought the impulse to jerk away and instead held on to each other’s hand tightly.

Initially his hand cupped mine, holding it in a formal, almost businesslike way. Then, very slowly, he rotated our hands upward until they were perpendicular, palm to palm. With the slightest turn of his wrist, Joshua wove his fingers between mine and clasped my hand. I let my fingers glide down to clasp back.

Once our hands intertwined, the current over my skin began to change itself subtly. Now, instead of flaming out from my hand and into the rest of my body, the slow burn engulfed me everywhere but the hand I’d interlocked with his. That hand was covered with strange little stabs all over the side of my palm that touched Joshua’s—like the pins-and-needles feel of a limb after it’s been held in one position for too long. Like my hand was waking up.

The analogy fit even better when the stabbing sensation faded and was replaced by something else entirely.

Suddenly, I felt him. Not the numb pressure, not even the thrilling current, but him. I felt the warmth of his hand and the texture of his skin pressed to mine. I felt him, just as I had in the river, when he was temporarily made of the same otherwordly matter as me.

Joshua must have sensed this change too, because his eyes flitted from our hands to my face.

“Do you feel that?”

He sounded awed, and uncertain. I nodded, my eyes locked onto his. When I spoke, it was haltingly.

“Joshua, I . . . I told you I hadn’t felt anything since I died. Not like this. The first time I felt something was when you were in the river. And since we met, I’ve started to feel little things, little sensations. But those sensations disappeared, fast. This isn’t . . . this doesn’t seem to be going away.”

I lifted our woven hands to emphasize my point. Doing so, I could feel the weight of his arm and the rough skin of his palm as it shifted against mine.

Keeping his hand firmly wrapped in mine, Joshua leaned closer to me.

“Then maybe I’m making the right decision after all,” he murmured.

Impulsively, acting as one might during an involuntary reaction, I arched my body toward him, curving myself until our faces were only inches apart. Our closeness sent a different set of tingles through me, tingles I was certain weren’t entirely inspired by the supernatural. More like the most natural thing in the world: simple, human attraction.

Despite our proximity, or perhaps because of it, Joshua’s expression became serious, his voice fervent.

“I could get used to this,” he whispered, nodding toward our clasped hands.

“What, the high voltage or touching me in general?”

“Both.” With his free hand, he gestured back and forth in what little space was left between us. “Whatever is happening, it means something. Something more than just us being dead at the same time, in the same place. Something more than you being a ghost and me being a Seer. Don’t you think so?”

My brain buzzed so loudly, I almost couldn’t answer. “I think . . . maybe.”

He grinned, moving in so close that our lips would touch with just the slightest twitch from either of us.

“Maybe what?” he prompted.

“Maybe yes?” I gasped, imagining the feel of his lips on mine. How hot would they burn me? How quickly would I feel his real lips beneath the fire? I tried to steady my breath and prepare myself for the moment I wanted so much.

Of course, I wasn’t exactly prepared for that moment to be interrupted by a sharp, rapping knock on Joshua’s car window.