Chapter 29. Tessa
Tessa
I imagine the magnolia tree on Tilly’s lawn. I’m coming, Tills.
I’d hoped to find Carl on the lawn; I was counting on it, in fact. I’d allowed myself to go to pieces back in his basement partly because I assumed he’d be stuck out here. But as the lights flicker in her bedroom and Tilly cries out, I know Carl’s made it inside.
Which means he figured out how to cross through doors. Did he get the idea watching Reed pass through the banister back in his basement? If Carl’s already conquered that skill, who knows what else he’s discovered?
I pray I’m not too late.
I hold the image of Tilly’s bedroom in my mind, her pale-blue comforter and twinkle lights, and in a moment I’m there. Immediately, I know I should have come sooner. Tilly’s cowering in the corner and Carl’s on his hands and knees on the rug, breathing hard. He’s clearly been tormenting her.
But no more. I step forward, fists clenched at my sides.
He grins, victorious. “Here to take part in the fun, are you?”
Tilly scrambles to a lamp that’s fallen off her bedside table. She stands, wielding it like a weapon. “Stay away from me, Carl.” Her voice shakes like she’s fighting back tears.
“What have you been doing to her?” I growl.
“Oh, we’ve been having all kinds of conversations.
And I’m not doing anything you and your boyfriend didn’t do.
I must admit, it’s fun making her watch the replay of my death over and over, and yours.
She loved seeing that. Not to mention her car rolling in that accident.
I’ve got lots of little gifts to share.” He dusts himself off, standing up.
“But now, I think I’ll show her what I’m planning next. ”
I reach for him, but he slips out of my grasp and straight into Tilly again.
She comes in and out of focus as the space around her buckles and bends, crackling like static on an old TV.
They’re both here and not here. “No!” Tilly screams in agony.
She’s fallen to the floor, hands covering her ears.
“That’s never going to happen.” She grapples for her lamp again, swinging it wildly.
It crashes into the wall behind her, shattering into countless pieces. Blood trickles down her palm.
I’ve no real plan; all I know is I need him out, right now. I’ve never tried to cross into someone while there’s another ghost in there. It seems crowded, but I don’t care. I lunge for Tilly.
The overhead light explodes, sparks raining down. I can feel Carl trying to keep a foothold in her mind, but he’s weak from his repeated attempts and I shove him out.
All’s quiet for a moment—a ship cast temporarily into the eye of the storm, blue skies and calm sails—but only for a breath.
I need to pass through her, but I don’t want to take a greater toll on her body.
So before I go, I reach out with my mind and flood her with happy memories of our time together: laughing on my bedroom rug eating Takis Fuego, writing our travel itineraries, vintage shopping at Second Place, watching fireflies dart overhead as we camp out in her backyard, dreaming of our future.
Anything I can think of to make her feel safe and loved.
“Tessa?” she gasps. “Is that you?”
Yes, I think at her. It’s me, Tills. I’m here. I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore. Then my body rejects the crossing. I can’t hold out any longer. I drop to the floor, curled in the fetal position, as waves of nausea sweep over me.
Tilly falls beside her broken lamp, wincing from the pain of her collarbone.
“You might slow me down,” Carl says from across the room, breathing hard. “But you can’t stop me.”
“Why?” I demand. “Why Tilly? She doesn’t want anything to do with you. Leave her alone.” I push onto my hands but can’t stand yet; my legs are too weak.
Tilly feels around on the floor for something else to use as a weapon.
“Because it’s our destiny to be together, and she knows that deep down. Why else would she have gone out with me?” Carl stalks closer, a predator looking for his moment to pounce.
Keep his focus on me. That’s all I’ve got. Hold his attention and keep him talking, until I can think of a way out of this mess. “Uh … because she didn’t realize you were a fucking psychopath at the time. And as I recall, it only lasted a few weeks, so get over it.”
“That’s what you think, but it lasted a lot longer than that.”
“You stalking her does not make it a relationship.”
He growls. I’ve hit a sore spot. “She’s going to regret every missed call, every snide comment.
I’ll break her until she’s crawling back to apologize.
” He lunges for Tilly, but I grab his leg and he crashes to the floor.
Carl tries to kick me loose, but I scramble forward and scratch his face.
He howls with rage and shoves me off him, but I keep coming.
Hands, teeth, hair, spit, it’s a blur as I throw myself at him, anything to keep him away from terrorizing her.
Something strange starts to happen. The bedroom door opens, then slams closed again.
Tilly edges closer to it, unsure. The lights flicker, while music plays from somewhere.
Her laptop? Tilly’s pillow, sweater, and journal rise from her bed into the air and circle around the room. It’s a full-fledged haunting.
I’m not doing any of this, and from the confused expression on Carl’s face, I don’t think he is, either. There are just big energies at play in here. Keep going, something’s working, I think as we roll across the floor, locked in battle.
“Tessa,” Tilly calls, standing flush against the wall, staring in horror at the objects swirling around the room.
“Tessa, if you’re here, if you’re trying to stop him—and as impossible as it is to believe, I think that’s what you’re doing—I just want to say thank you, and I love you. I believe in you.”
I’m so exhausted, with no idea how to make this end.
But Tilly knows I’m here. Tilly’s rooting for me just like I’m rooting for her.
Carl has freed himself from my grip at last, but I can tell our tussle has taken it out of him, on top of his multiple passes through her.
He staggers against her desk, clutching his side.
When he sees I’m still incapacitated on the floor, his eyes land on Tilly and narrow.
“Payback time, bitch.” He struggles to walk but plows ahead anyway, straight for her.
I do the only thing that comes to mind: I roll toward him and grab his ankle. I reach out with my mind and imagine a place we can go, somewhere far from Tilly. I close my eyes and project myself there and hope to hell he comes with me.
When I come to, I’m shivering on the icy concrete of Carl’s basement floor.
The room swims in and out of focus, from the pockmarked ceiling to the rack of old towels.
Even his prized collection of Venus flytraps remains untouched on the windowsill, patiently awaiting their next meal.
There’s a moan to my left, and when I tilt my head, I find Carl beside me, with his corpse beyond us, a reminder of all the violence that brought us to this moment.
I did it. This was the first place that came to my mind. I wasn’t sure if I could take someone with me when I traveled. It was a shot in the dark, but it seems to have worked—the last remaining trick I had up my sleeve.
Little by little, my strength returns, but barely. Being by the site of Carl’s death must be helping; we’re gaining energy from whatever strange power source surges in these places.
“How did you do that?” Carl groans.
I push myself up, and that’s when something gold catches my eye. I freeze as the floor falls out from under me, reality spinning on its axis. It can’t be …
Carl’s door is back.
His countdown clock is still ticking. How?
Has Reed returned? Did he find a way to escape? I run over to the threshold, careful not to step too close. “Reed? Are you there?” It’s silent, save the deep hum reverberating off the walls again. “Reed!” I turn to shout up the stairwell, in case he’s in the house.
“He’s not here.” Carl shuffles to his feet. “You watched him get sucked through like I did. You don’t return from something like that.”
I don’t want to listen to Carl, but doubt creeps in.
If Reed came back and we were gone, he’d go to Tilly’s.
I know it. He’d figure that’s where Carl would go.
But he didn’t show up there. That is, if a person can cross back over at all.
Maybe the portal swallowed him up, and now it’s ready to take Carl, too.
With a sinking feeling, I realize it’s not going to be that easy.
Hoping for something isn’t enough. Reed won’t magically appear because I want him to.
The world doesn’t work that way. We have our shot here and then we go, that’s the deal.
That’s the grand bargain. Finish your business then decide: Stay or go. There are no take-backsies.
Carl steps closer, and I wonder if he’s trying to position himself subtly to send me through. It’s certainly what I’m thinking. But neither of us has enough energy yet for the attempt, too drained from our fight at Tilly’s.
“You’re going to tell me how you did that neat little trick of yours, zapping us back here. In fact, you’re going to share all your secrets with me. Or you and I both know where you’ll end up.”
“I don’t think so,” I say, buying time as we slowly edge around each other, the dance of fencers readying for a match.
Behind Carl are his carnivorous plants, but it’s what’s behind those, out the small rectangular windows, that catches my eye.
It’s a familiar sight: mist swirling and gathering on the lawn, ominously rolling up against the house.
I edge myself closer to the stairs as a plan begins to take shape.
The smoke people are attracted to the sites of recent deaths. They gather in wait, whispers on the wind. They desperately want inside.
I take off up the stairs.
Carl laughs behind me. “Afraid I’ll tug you through? That’s right, run away. You can’t escape for long. You forget, I know where you live.”
The front door is still open from when we chased Carl home.
Was that just this afternoon? The mist presses against my ankles, gathers out on the street, wanting a touch, wanting a taste.
I used to fear them. But all they want is a way out.
I want a way out, too. Besides, the real monster’s downstairs.
“Hey, you, smoke people,” I shout at the tide of mist coalescing down the block, billowing up the driveway, pressing tightly against the windows of Carl’s childhood home. “You want a taste of this?” I throw my arms open wide. “Come on in. Fresh meat!”