Chapter 27. Tessa
Tessa
There’s a flash of red hair as Carl steps into a small pool of light from one of the hanging basement bulbs.
“What the—” he says, when his gaze lands on us.
“No way.” He staggers back in shock. “You can’t …
no.” He runs his hands over his face like we’re some kind of hallucination he can scrub away.
But when his eyes snap to mine, I only nod in response. A deep chill creeps along my skin from his icy stare. There’s no warmth to be found, only calculating animal instinct.
“You’re not r-real,” he stammers, paler than normal.
My eyes dart to Reed, unsure of our next move. How do you break it to someone that they’re dead? Or, worse, that you’re responsible? “Yeah, so uh … this might come as a bit of a shock …” I edge a step closer, nails digging into my palms as I attempt to project a calm I’m not feeling.
Carl pushes past us into the room but halts when he notices his door. “What the hell is this?” Before he can really take it in, he pivots and comes face-to-face with his own corpse. I hear the breath gust out of him, his back rigid, as he stares.
At least my body was under a tarp and I only saw my shoes at first; I can’t imagine what it’s like to watch yourself bleed out.
“Stop making me see shit.” He rounds on us, hurling the accusation. “Get out of my head!”
“We’re not doing anything to you.” Reed chances a step closer, hands up as if calming a snarling animal.
“You died, Carl.” I join Reed. “That’s why you can see yourself … why you can see us.”
I’m afraid he’s going to cry, or scream, but as his eyes roam first over his corpse, then the canisters of gasoline tucked along the shelf, he throws his head back and roars with laughter. Totally unhinged.
Reed shoots a nervous glance my way as an uneasy feeling prickles up the back of my neck. Carl’s reactions always surprise me, which means I can’t predict him, and if I can’t predict what he’ll do, then how can I stop him?
Carl spins to face us, still cackling. “You thought you were getting rid of me, but I always planned to die with her.” He waves at the gasoline cans.
“My very own murder-suicide pact. But this is so much better.” His eyes sparkle with malice.
“Now, I can haunt her every breath. I can pull her into this world with me.” He saunters over to a dark corner in the back of the basement, a smug smile on his face.
It’s only then I realize he’s created some kind of psychotic stalker altar to Tilly.
We never noticed before, too caught up in our argument.
I gasp, and Reed tenses beside me as Carl runs his fingers possessively over the photos he’s tacked there.
“Don’t you dare.” My voice is steeped in menace, ears roaring.
There are images of Tilly running laps at school, as if he snuck onto the grounds to take them.
There’s Tilly caught in silhouette through her bedroom window, and with her arm wrapped around me on one of our coffee dates.
There’s even a couple recent photos through her mom’s shop window of Tilly chatting with Santiago.
Carl’s scratched out my face and Santiago’s face with a red X.
My body vibrates with fury. Waves of anger roll off Reed, too, as he worries about his friend.
How did we not see these before? Reed and I were so infuriatingly lost in each other.
Carl watches the blood pool beside his body and laughs before marching up to us.
He’s so close I can see his acne scars. Everything in me wants to recoil, but I hold my ground and Reed does, too.
“I’m going to be the most terrifying fucking poltergeist this town has ever seen.
” A sick smile spreads slowly across his face.
“You two will regret this so badly. I’m never leaving her alone now. ”
Reed doesn’t break eye contact with Carl, but he reaches down to squeeze my hand.
I startle at the contact, then wrap my fingers firmly around his.
All our hurtful words to each other are still ringing in my ears.
But some things transcend arguments, and facing a psychopath is one of them.
Though if Reed’s gesture is meant to reassure me, it doesn’t work.
We’ve made things so much worse. We haven’t solved anything. All we’ve managed to do is pull a vindictive monster into this realm with us.
Carl is so focused on us, he doesn’t notice the door flicker behind him. I hear a sharp intake of breath and know that Reed has seen it, too. When he turns to me, eyes full of fiery determination, it’s clear we’re thinking the same thing. Forget everything that happened between us.
We need to push Carl through that portal. We eliminate him the only way we know how. I don’t care what’s waiting for him on the other side. He can’t stay here.
“Now!” Reed yells, and we both lunge before Carl can react.
As we shove him backward, he smirks at first, cocky as ever, like he assumes he’s untouchable.
We can push him all we want; it will do little good.
But when he whips his head around to catch the door looming closer, dissolving momentarily into an empty chasm—a yawning mouth ready to swallow him whole—beads of sweat form on his brow.
He tries to get a foothold to shove against us, but we’ve got the upper hand. Reed is much taller than him, and that gives us leverage. Realization dawns over Carl’s face: He’s going to lose.
For a brief glimmer I see it, his real and palpable fear.
So long, asshole.
But at the last moment, Carl ducks and rolls to the side, halting our momentum. He shuffles to his feet and makes a break for the stairs. Reed and I stumble.
My knee slams into the hard cement floor. “Stop him!”
Reed launches himself across the room and grabs the banister. He pulls his body onto the stairwell, blocking the kitchen entrance, standing firm in Carl’s path.
“Get out of my way,” Carl seethes.
“That’s not going to happen.” Reed begins pushing him down the stairs.
One step. Shove. Two steps. Shove. Carl’s foot slips and he tumbles backward, a replay of his own death, only to land beside his corpse.
He stares into his own lifeless eyes, shudders, and rolls to his feet, scanning the room for another exit.
There are a couple small rectangular windows at ground level. Outside the sun slips behind some clouds, plunging the lawn in shadow. But since the windows are sealed, they offer no escape. Carl can’t physically affect them now.
He spins to face me, likely assuming I’m an easier match than Reed.
“You’re going to let me walk up those stairs, because if you don’t, your little girlfriend is going through that door.” He lunges, grabbing my wrist, and begins dragging me toward the portal and its golden countdown clock.
The gateway warps and buckles, the fabric of space-time bending and bubbling like a mirage. As if it senses someone’s about to enter, the buzzing gets louder, drowning out the hum of the lights and the whir of the fan. It overtakes the room, an insatiable hunger.
I try to wriggle free, but Carl only holds on tighter, pulling me toward him.
This is how it’s going to end for me. I’ll be lost who knows where, alone, and unable to help Tilly—or to ever fix things with Reed.
Hazy memories of YouTube self-defense videos swim through my head.
Twist my wrist. Use the element of surprise.
My brain skips from thought to thought so fast it’s hard to land on a plan.
All I know is that the door is looming closer, and although I claw at Carl’s arms to break loose, I can’t escape his grip.
Rather than jumping over the banister, Reed dissolves through it and lands on the floor.
He inches closer, trying to position himself to intercept us, hands twitching, looking for his moment.
Carl pauses his tugging and his eyes narrow, temporarily stunned by Reed’s ability to move through solid structures.
This is my chance. I plant my feet against Carl and shove backward hard, knocking us both to the floor.
In an instant, Reed is on him, a savage sound ripping from his chest. I’ve never seen him like this: There’s no regret for what happened to Carl before. All that’s left is a kind of brutal ferocity. He wants Carl wiped clean from the earth.
They roll across the floor, their movement so fast it’s hard to see who has the upper hand.
At one point Carl has his hands around Reed’s throat.
At another moment Reed is throwing a series of punches.
The basement lights begin to flicker. The washing machine turns on and off out of nowhere.
There’s big supernatural energy swirling around the room as they fight, and it’s somehow seeping into the natural world.
When Carl’s back on top, going for Reed’s throat again, I throw myself against him, knocking him to the ground.
Reed staggers up, clutching his windpipe, gasping for air.
Before I can scramble toward him, Carl shoves me backward with such force my head hits the wall behind me.
In an instant Carl’s back on his feet. With Reed still distracted, trying to catch his breath, Carl slams into him.
Time slows, distills, until there’s only: Reed losing his balance, stumbling backward, a shocked expression on his face. Carl beaming, triumphant. The golden door dissolving again into a dark and desolate abyss.
For just a second, Reed’s eyes meet mine, as if he’s unsure how his life has brought him to this moment. “Tessa,” he breathes—a hope for salvation, a prayer. Everything unsaid hangs thick in the air between us. We should be together. I didn’t mean what I said before. I need him.
But I’m too far away. I cannot stop this train wreck from happening. Because in the next heartbeat, Reed is sucked through. The golden outline shrinks back in on itself and vanishes, the portal sealed.
And just like that, the boy I love is gone.