CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
U
nder different circumstances, I might have felt guilty clinging to Manuel’s arm. We weren’t that familiar with each other, yet he’d been unlucky enough to be selected as my stand-in lifeline.
Now, knee-deep in craziness, was not the time to be analyzing why Manuel’s touch helped reverse the effects when nothing in the prior seventeen years had.
“This is a back way. Only teachers use it.” He coaxed me along, keeping a tight connection between us as I’d asked.
“It’s a teachers’ workroom. Actually, it’s an overflow from the normal workroom.
Only Mrs. Handy uses it on a regular basis.
Sometimes she asks me to store packages here when the mailman makes his deliveries. Uh… Willa?”
His words were trivial, but they grounded me.
I clung to my awareness, tooth and nail, but I was fighting a losing battle. Even my grip on Manuel’s arm couldn’t combat the encroaching darkness.
A gasp escaped, and the orbs zipped in a rapid pattern. Years ago, my little brother dragged me through a funhouse. This felt like trying to walk through the spinning tunnel at the exit.
“Wah, you—ah roa—uh tay?”
It sounded like Manuel, and his eyes danced before me, but his voice was warped and muffled, sounding both scrambled and submerged in deep water.
“Here?” I whined. The murmurs grew louder. “Here’s safe?”
Whereas his voice twisted and rolled, mine echoed and hissed, disjointed from time.
“Uh-uh-uh kay-kay-kay.”
I blinked, adrift, unable to understand anything. The whispers surged in an angry tide that crashed against my brain’s ability to comprehend.
Then, the warmth, the small flicker of a flame, winked out.
A torrent of screams raced past, blasting their energy with gale force until I hovered in a ball on the ground. Phantom creepy-crawlies wriggled over my skin. When I looked, the orbs disoriented me.
As if tuning in, one voice crystalized above the rest. “I’m sorry.”
“F-F-F-F-or-or-or-or w-w-what?” I cried, folding tighter in on myself.
Then, a glowing light crashed into me, and I knew why they’d apologized.
Unimaginable agony flooded my synapses all at once, and the blow felt so physically hard that my insides liquefied.
The sensation of nothing being tethered inside me had nausea rising.
My organs trembled and slipped with every move, each square inch giving the impression of being bruised times ten.
A heave tore through me. Wave after wave, my nerves attempted to shut down the onslaught, but my brain kept receiving the notion of injury like new information.
The roller coaster ride never ended, and it was stealing my sanity.
This level of trauma wasn’t meant to be endured—not for this long anyway.
“S-S-S-top-top-top,” I whispered between the heaving. “Ple… Plea-plea-se-se-se.”
Then, the pain morphed as a different orb rocketed through me. My chest cavity exploded with fire. Every heartbeat agitated gaping wounds, creating friction on damaged flesh. My heart should have slowed with death, but it kept chugging on.
I gasped, wincing at the echoing distortion.
Another orb, and that gasp cut off liquidly, leaving me gurgling.
The cells in my brain began to shrivel and die, turning the tissue black, and when I thought I would pass into blissful oblivion, the process looped.
I couldn’t call for help anymore, couldn’t see anything with the way my vision blurred, as if liquid coated my eyes.
Then, warmth wrapped around me. I flinched and braced for a fiery death, but the temperature remained steady and comforting. I clung to that glow like my life depended on it, because it did.
The blurred vision receded, like coming up from holding my breath underwater. Orbs and psychedelic colors still danced and twisted my reality, but they ceased their assault, hovering on the edge of a soft aura.
The glow shone with a gentle tan haze.
Glancing around, I realized it wasn’t coming from me. It surrounded my body, but my feet weren’t encompassed within the ball of protection. Where they stuck out, so nothing surrounded them, as if I lacked an aura of my own.
Something tightened, encircling my waist, drawing my attention there.
An arm.
I trailed my eyes up that arm to where it wrapped around me. Halfway there, my attention snagged on a mass of black tendrils snaking from my shoulder. When I turned, trying to examine the alarming sight, a voice spoke.
“Willa? Come on, come back to me.” A frantic note pushed the request into a demand, one my psyche obeyed.
The order sucked me through space and existence, until I crashed abruptly into reality.
I gasped, shaking all over.
“Willa?” Manuel, it was Manuel’s voice. He must have noticed some change. “Are you here?”
My teeth chattered too much to speak. I tried to nod, but the movement might have gotten lost beneath the massive tremors racking my limbs.
“Thank God.” Arms tightened, pulling me more snugly against him. “You’re okay. You’re okay. Just breathe. Breathing is good. You’re okay.”
I wasn’t sure who he was reassuring more.
Something beeped an ear-itching stream of alerts.
I glanced down at my smartwatch as I narrowed in on the sound’s origin.
My eyes widened as I pulled my wrist closer for inspection.
“What the hell?” Manuel shifted, also trying to get a better look. “Is that frost?”
He unwrapped an arm from me, drawing a whimper I failed to conceal if his half-hearted chuckle was anything to judge by.
“I’ll put it right back, mouse.” He pressed his tan thumb against the screen and swiped it across.
The frosted white film melted where his finger traveled, leaving behind a slightly damp screen. “Shit.”
Shit, indeed.
“How is that even possible?”
I didn’t know. The interface read dangerously low—a new level for me. With my quick research over the years, I would have said it was impossible for a human to get this cold without organs shutting down. It was beyond hypothermia.
“That can’t be right,” Manuel murmured, having also caught the stats. “That is your body temperature.”
“Y-Y-Yeah.”
My single, half mangled word drew a reaction from him. “You’re okay. What—you know what? We should warm you up. Questions can wait.”
He helped me stand and told me to stay there for a second. I braced myself as he left, expecting to be battered again. The bell rang while he was gone.
Was it only the start of second period?
The shivers persisted, but no otherworldly attack hit in his absence either.
In short order, Manuel reappeared in the doorway, holding both our backpacks.
“How much trouble would you get into for ditching school?” he asked, closing the distance between us and pulling a large, black hoodie over my head. It smelled of him and had our school’s logo with a flaming basketball on it.
Ditching school?
At this point, it wasn’t a matter of getting in trouble.
There was no way I’d be able to attend class in this state.
Between getting questioned by the FBI, actively throwing a glove of challenge in the dirt at Ben’s dad, and now this attack from hell?
Phantom pains still echoed through my movements.
Most of it could be blamed on aches from the cold, but not all of it. My organs wriggled as if they’d slide right out of place like a raw egg if I shifted too fast.
In answer, I nodded and reached for my backpack, but he swiped it first and slung both bags over his shoulder. “I got this.” He held his free arm out in offering.
Modesty flew out the window when faced with this severe chill, and I wasted no time tucking myself as close to him as possible. “T-T-Thanks.”
“No problem. We’ll wait for the hallways to clear before we sneak out. Mind if we take your car? I can drive us. I have a license but no vehicle.”
“W-W-Where?”
“My house. Mom won’t get home until four, and my brothers are at school or daycare.”
He continued to hold me as we listened to the sounds in the hallway dying down until he deemed it safe enough.
From there, things passed in a blur. He guided us out, got us to the Jeep, and drove to his house.
Exhaustion kept me barely conscious, and not even that once the hum of the motor began, and he cranked the heater.
“Willa,” Manuel murmured. “We’re here.”
His touch on my arm coaxed me from a blissfully black sleep and into the warm, safe cocoon he made of the Jeep.
Between the vents on full blast, his oversized hoodie, and the rhythmic rumble as we idled on the curb, the idea of leaving repulsed me. I hunkered down smaller, as if to hide.
He grabbed my wrist and twisted it around. The screen on the watch lit up. “How are you still this cold?”
I grumbled, tugging my hand free and pulling it back inside the sleeve, twisting the end in a clear “keep out” gesture.
He laughed. “Come on, this isn’t working. We need to try something else to raise your core temperature.” Manuel rounded the Jeep, popping the passenger door open. “Unless you’d rather go to a hospital? Honestly, that would—”
He’d discovered the magical words to pry me from the warm haven. “N-N-Nope.”
A modest one-and-a-half-story house crowded close to the road, like all the other residences on the street.
It looked well-cared for, with a touch more personality than the neighboring ones that, while maintained, lacked the bright curtains framing the windows, rainbows of plants dotting the short sidewalk, and the coppery metallic front door.
The bold color choice worked, contrasting the army green darkness of the siding.
Manuel’s mom was quite the gardener to have flower varieties blooming halfway through October. Two pumpkins sat on either side of the daring front door.
Manuel pulled keys from his bag and guided me inside with a flourish. “Mi casa es tu casa. Oh, but take your shoes off. Mom would skin me alive if I brought a guest in and let them wear their shoes.”
The second my shoes were removed, he led me upstairs to the small upper story. The landing split in two directions, one to a bedroom with posters on the wall, and the other to a bathroom.
He turned us to the latter.
“Wait here.” He left and returned in a flash, holding basketball shorts and a T-shirt, both black. “Can you put these on?”
“W-W-Why?”
“A bath seems like the fastest way to warm you up, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until you can promise you won’t revert into whatever state that was at school.”
Fair enough.
He grinned when I took the clothes. “You can change in my room. I’ll get the water running.”
Silence dogged my steps, and I glanced over my shoulder. Manuel stood in the doorway, watching to make sure I’d cover the fifteen feet to his room. Honestly, I couldn’t begrudge him that. His doubt wasn’t unwarranted.
Eventually, I made it and closed the door behind me.
The running tap whispered a seductive song, so I didn’t linger, making quick work of my clothes.
At one point, while shivering like mad, my brain gave a weak chug, sparking the realization that I was alone and naked in a boy’s bedroom—something I’d never done before.
My heart raced with nerves? Excitement? Fear? I couldn’t tell.
How had I not connected the dots to the implications before this?
My bag sat on the corner of his full-sized bed, and I stuffed my clothes in there. The borrowed T-shirt sleeves went past my elbows, but the shorts weren’t bad. I only needed to tie the string for my own peace of mind.
When I exited, Manuel stood on the other side, making me jump about a foot in the air.
“J-J-Jeez!”
A quick flash of teeth showed in a barely there smile before he offered his arm. “Sorry. I got worried. Come on. I only filled the tub halfway in case it needs to be adjusted. You can let me know if it’s too hot. It’s lukewarm right now, but you’re so cold it might be too much.”
Since his hand felt like fire on the bare skin of my forearm, I was inclined to agree.
He helped me into the bath with my approval and continued filling the tub the rest of the way.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded, glad I could do so. “Y-Yeah, t-thanks.”
He nudged the heat up for the final thirty seconds, and it sent me over some invisible threshold. The tension in my muscles released, and the nonstop shivers finally slowed.
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
The first real hint of amusement crossed his face. “I’ll drain some and add more.”
He sat right on the edge, draining and adding water like some attentive bath conductor. Ten minutes later, I battled to keep my eyes open.
“Hey, hey, you can’t go to sleep in the tub.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, just a little longer, okay?” He fished my arm out of the water, glancing at the watch. “Oops, I forgot to remind you about this.”
“Waterproof,” I mumbled.
“Yes, I can see.” He read the vitals. “Hang in just a bit more, and then you can dry off and crash if that’s what you want. Deal?”
“I’ll try.”
He snorted, doing another round of raising the heat. “We could talk, if it’ll help you stay awake, because honestly? I’m not sure I could wait until after your nap to get answers.”
He wanted to know about everything that’d happened. While that could range from the FBI agent to the paranormal attack, I had a sneaking suspicion his questions centralized on the latter.
Ah, that chased off some of the warm and fuzzies. “That’s fair.”
“Thank you. I understand this isn’t easy for you.” Manuel propped his elbows on his knees, opening and closing his mouth in several false starts. He combed a hand through his black hair, laughing. “Damn. I have no clue how to start.”
“What did you see?”
I didn’t have to specify. As I suspected, the FBI agent and Chief Pierce both paled in comparison to the picture I’d painted in that workroom.
Manuel frowned, staring off into the distance, before turning to me. “I stepped away from you for a second to lock the door, and when I turned around, you were balled up on the floor.”
That didn’t sound so bad. I mapped out how to explain, but he wasn’t finished.
“And then…” He shivered, and any budding explanation went out the window.
He’d seen. “Willa, something slammed into you—something I couldn’t see.
It was like… Well, it looked like you got hit by a truck, and it was physically impossible.
Curled up on the floor like you were, there’s no way you could have launched yourself five feet to the side without straightening out. ”
My eyes rounded. “Oh, that’s new.”
He stared. “New.”
“Yes, I don’t… It…” It what? It seemed less insane to realize it wasn’t all in my head?
Yeah, actually, that was exactly it.
I felt reassured, connected to another person in a way I hadn’t before.
“It’s a long story,” I said, offering him both a warning and an out.
He understood the implications, but squared his jaw anyway. “We have time.”
I nodded. “I… I can see ghosts.”