Silverlighters (18 page)

Jonathon moved toward me, but Morgan grabbed him. He shook his head, his dark eyes loaded with meaning.

I ran then. I ran so hard my chest ached and my ribs hurt, but I hardly felt it. My mind was filled with so much more.

As I tore past the Pizza Parlor and the photographs of Chris, his eyes seemed to follow me, filled with accusation.

“I didn’t know,” I shouted at him.

I didn’t ask for any of this. I just wanted it all to stop.

What I wanted was to be normal. To have normal fears.

I wanted to go back to a time when life made sense. I wanted to go back to when I was young, when my mother was alive. When my father was my idol, not the man who refused to answer my questions.

I was sick of living a lie. I had no idea who I was anymore.

My father already knew, and it made me wonder if that was what the Silverlighter meant when he said he would find out soon enough on his own.

“We’re leaving?” I said, my voice flat.

He nodded.

“When will it stop?”

“I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

I wondered how many times I could do this. How many names would I have to use before I forgot who I was?

“Who will I be next week? Martha. Mary. Marylyn?”

And then I saw the worry in his eyes, the fear in his face, and wondered how long he could keep this up.

But I also saw the determined thrust of his jaw. It shone in his eyes; the need to keep me safe. And the fear that he couldn’t.

I shook my head back and forth. I no longer felt anything. I was dead and empty inside, as though they had already killed me.

My father moved out of my way as I headed to my room. His arm lifted, then dropped helplessly back to his side, because nothing he said could change anything and he knew it.

I was like a robot, my mind blank. It sort of scared me, the way I had suddenly just turned off. Maybe it was already too late for me.

Maybe I would never feel anything again.

How much was too much?

For a long time I sat on my bed, clutching my diary to my chest as I stared into space.

It symbolized so many things. The pink cover was plain, the only thing decorating it my mother’s blood. It had a small silver latch that held it closed.

There was nothing extraordinary or remarkable about it at all as I flicked through its pages.

About a third of it was filled with my tiny writing. The rest of the pages were as empty of life as my mother. But it stood for everything I lost. The words crammed onto its pages the only place where I could truly be myself.

But it was the blank white pages that I couldn’t drag my eyes away from.

Pages yet to be filled.

What stories would they hold?

In the end, it was those blank pages that got through to me.

Something in me kindled, slowly coming back to life.

I wanted to live. I wasn’t ready to die. I wanted to fill each and every one of those pages.

But I had no idea where they would lead me. If only I could see the future. If only I knew what they knew.

It flared through me, a small flame at first, quickly becoming a roaring fire.

I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. I wasn’t ready to let go.

To give up the normal, everyday things that were part of being a teenager.

I wanted to feel love. To kiss a boy. I wanted to live in a house and paint my room whatever damned color I wanted. I wanted to grow up and go to university and have an amazing job where I made a difference to the world.

I even wanted to get married and have children of my own one day.

Right then, it felt like none of that would ever be possible.

Not when we had to keep running.

When I put everyone I came into contact with at risk.

It seemed so unfair. I had finally met a boy I had feelings for.

I was finally starting to feel like a normal person.

Like there wasn’t something wrong with me.

But the boy I liked came from the future that wanted to kill me.

With everything spiraling out of my control, there was one thing I could focus on.

One thing that I could do something about.

I pushed open the bay windows, and leapt lightly out onto the branch. Then I dropped to the ground and ran.

Maybe I couldn’t have it all, but there was one thing I was determined to have.

I couldn’t believe they were still sitting there when I reached the school. That my whole world was falling apart and nothing had changed for them.

I slowed down as I approached, just appreciating them.

Jonathon was talking to Morgan, and Beck was curled into Morgan’s side, her face buried in his chest. Melissa was there, too. Poor, confused Melissa who’d lost a part of herself the night Chris died.

He’d been her person.

But I could also sense the underlying tension.

There had been so many moves, so many times I didn’t get to say goodbye.

I used to think that was what made it so hard to leave, but I was wrong.

That was what made me disconnect. It was easier to leave when you didn’t care. When there was no one to leave behind.

I found myself fighting tears as I walked closer, and swallowed against the lump that had lodged in my throat.

Tears for Bianca who forced her way into my life, and who thought I was dead.

Tears for Beck and Melissa, and for Chris who should never have died.

I closed my eyes, curling my hands against my legs as I sucked in a deep breath, and forced the tears back.

I wanted this one last thing, and didn’t want the sadness welling inside me to mar it.

Fixing a smile on my face, I walked through the gate.

Jonathon stood as soon as he saw me.

I ran to him. I grabbed his face in my hands, and pulled him toward me, his eyes widening as my lips met his.

His lips were cool and soft as I pressed against him, wanting this one moment to hold onto.

But Jonathon pulled away, searching my face, his eyes filled with anguish.

He stared at my forehead as I started to back away.

I felt so stupid, and wondered how could I have been so wrong, but it was the pity in his eyes that nearly brought me undone.

Jonathon grabbed my arms. “Ellie, you don’t understand – I’m not part of your future.”

A strange feeling of déjà vu overtook me, leaving me momentarily speechless.

“I know,” I said, tears springing to my eyes. I swiped them away angrily. “All I wanted was a kiss, not a life-time commitment. I just – just wanted something to remember you by.”

I looked down. “We’re leaving,” I said softly, the words harder to say than I could ever have imagined.

Turned out I hated goodbyes after all.

He grabbed my chin, and gently lifted my face until his forehead, his nose, his lips – they were so close – so close the heat radiating from him felt like a phantom touch.

His eyes devoured me hungrily, and his voice was raw. “You’ve got no idea what this is doing to me.” He pulled the flat of my hand to his chest and held it there. I could feel the throb of his speeding heart beating time to mine. “What
you
do to me.”

His lips hovered so close, yet so far away. His breath was cool and sweet on my parted lips as I breathed him in. His chest shuddered against my hand as I exhaled, and he in turn breathed me in so that we were breathing for each other.

Tilting his head, he tenderly cupped my face with one hand, his gaze lowering to my mouth.

I leaned into his hand, and closed my eyes, taking whatever he was willing to give me.

His breath feathered against the corner of my mouth, his lips so close I could practically taste them.

I hardly dare breathe, hardly dare move, as his breath caressed my skin, and his nose trailed a path along my cheekbone, until he was nuzzling the hair away from my ear.

“I wish things were different,” his whisper was hot in my ear, “that you were
mine
.”

The air exploded out of me.

Little bubbles of happiness frothed in my chest, swelling through me.

Then he pulled back, and ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening with frustration.

His gaze darted back up to my forehead, as though he was reminding himself I was off limits. That I was Marked. That I was his past.

The pulse at his temple throbbed as he fought a battle I desperately want him to lose.

He searched my face, his eyes stopping to linger on my mouth.

“To hell with it,” he growled.

Then he kissed me.

My insides ignited as his lips crushed against mine, conveying exactly how he felt about me. His lips were so soft and sweet and hard, so gentle and urgent, all at the same time.

His hand was on my back, pulling me closer, but I was already arching into him, as though I could become a part of him.

The smell of him was intoxicating and driving me crazy, and I forgot the rest of the world existed until I heard someone whistle.

“Get a room,” Melissa laughed.

We pulled back, still holding onto each other, ours eyes lingering.

He searched my face, then he smiled, the way he felt about me – all the things he couldn’t voice – shining brightly in his beautiful eyes.

That was when it happened.

21

A bright white flash of light ripped across the sky. It was sudden and instant. The force of it blinded me, sending the entire world white. My ears were ringing a strange, eerie tune.

And then it was over, as quickly as it began.

At first I thought that whatever it was, it made me go deaf.

It was so quiet.

But then I heard low murmurs rising up around me, soft with confusion. My ears were still ringing.

“– what was that –”

“– was it a bomb? –”

“– what happened to the power? –”

“– my watch stopped –”

Jonathon was holding onto me like he would never let go, the fear on his face mirroring mine.

“Jonathon? Do you know what’s going on?” I gasped, but he shook his head, as bewildered as me.

“So – this isn’t why you’re here?” I asked.

He met my eye. “No. This isn’t meant to happen. They–” he broke off, looking alarmed.

Morgan pulled
Beck
to his chest as they reached us, his hands clutching her shoulders as he looked over her head at Jonathon.

His eyes were so wide and frightened, the whites glaring against the darkness of his face. “Emergency procedures,” he said with horror. “I don’t want to forget.”

He buried his face in Beck’s hair, and inhaled her. “I will never forget you,” he said urgently. Then he grabbed her face and kissed her. He kissed her like she had never been kissed before.

I couldn’t drag my eyes away.

“Jonathon?” I clutched his hand, still staring at them. “What is he talking about?”

But Jonathon was staring at Morgan, and Morgan was staring at Jonathon, his chin resting on Beck’s head again.

I cocked my head, frowning as my eyes flickered between Jonathon and Morgan. I sensed they were communicating somehow.

Morgan nodded his head, and then Jonathon squeezed my hand so tightly I felt my knuckles grind together.

He grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him. “You have to leave. Immediately. Before it’s too late.”

His eyes were as wide and frightened as Morgan’s.

The ringing in my ears intensified, and a strange feeling descended over me. A heaviness, filled with a growing sense of unease and dread. Then the ringing faded.

The five of us walked out of the school, surrounded by a sea of faces as baffled as our own. Everyone was so eerily calm and orderly as we moved steadily forward.

A few of the teachers made half-hearted efforts to stop us.

“You shouldn’t be leaving the school,” Mr. Jones said as he raised his skinny leg and stepped over the fence.

A boy with dark hair pushed open his car door, and stepped out.

“My car won’t start,” he said to no one in particular as he started walking, leaving the door open, and the keys still dangling from the ignition.

We spilled onto the street as dozens of shiny black vans poured in, megaphones blasting. Coming so quickly I wondered if they were there for me.

The same message repeated over and over again.

There is no need for panic. The situation is under control.

At some stage Madison fell into step beside us, her face a blank mask as she met Morgan’s eye, and gave a small nod of her head.

She reached out, her slim, pale fingers briefly squeezing Jonathon’s hand as her eyes met mine. “You better be worth it,” she said, then she was gone, moving forward into the crowd ahead of us.

“My dad,” I said. He had no idea I was gone. My room would be empty when he looked for me.

It was a strange feeling that descended over us as we moved toward Maine Street, pushed along by the growing crowd as others joined us.

The normally peaceful streets of Berrywood were full, people standing outside of their homes, watching the vans. Others peered through their windows, pale faces peeking out from behind the curtains.

A boy called for his dog, struggling against his mother as she scooped him up and pulled him inside, her frightened eyes glazed over.

Then I saw my dad, his eyes frantic as he searched through the growing crowd.

“Dad.” I ran toward him.

“Ellie.” He pulled me to him, just holding me. “I was so worried.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

He didn’t answer.

He let me go, and turned to Jonathon, roughly seizing his shoulders. His voice was low and urgent. “You care for my daughter?”

“Yes,” Jonathon said simply.

My heart nearly melted then and there.

But my father wasn’t done yet. “Can I trust you? With her life?”

“Yes, sir.” Jonathon took my hand, meeting my eye.

“Meet me at Flanagan’s Gully,” my father said.

“Dad?”

“Ellie. Please. Just do it,” he took off at a fast walk, blending in with the crowd as the black vans drove past, loudspeakers still blaring.

“Let’s go.” Jonathon grabbed my arm, but I pulled away.

“Ellie?” Beck said, her eyes large and round.

I felt a sudden overwhelming rush of affection for her as I pulled her into my arms. She just looked so vulnerable. So small. Some people are just so innocent that you want to do everything you can to protect them. To shield them from the worlds hurts.

I moved away, and Morgan stepped closer, putting his arm around her shoulder as he kissed her forehead.

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” I said.

“I would never do anything to hurt her,” he said, his face dark and serious.

“Would someone tell me what the hell’s going on,” Melissa screamed.

Melissa was much more complicated than Beck. She was tougher. And I knew she would be fine.

“Chris would hate what you’re doing to yourself,” I said bluntly. It needed to be said.

Her eyes flared with anger. But I could see the pain behind them. “I just miss him so much,” she whispered, and I felt tears prick at my eyes. For all they had lost because my father and I interrupted their peaceful lives.

“I know,” I said softly. I was having trouble swallowing around the painful lump blocking my throat.

Melissa was already moving away, saying, “There’s my mom.”

I watched her for a moment, watched all of them.

I should have been scared, and I was. I was terrified. The fear I had seen on Jonathon and Morgan’s faces had spread to me. The fact they were scared was what scared me the most.

But there was a small part of me that was glad for these extra stolen moments I would get to spend with Jonathon.

And there were still so many unanswered questions churning around inside me. Questions I might never find the answers to once my father and I left Berrywood.

I knew Jonathon’s reasons – I even understood why he couldn’t tell me everything I wanted to know. But I wasn’t about to stop digging. It was part of my nature, my need to know.

But for now I would have to settle for whatever he was willing to give me.

Jonathon offered me his hand, and I took it, squeezing it tightly as I gave him a shaky smile.

We merged into the crowd, our heads low as the black vans moved in, the loudspeakers spilling the lies of the future onto the streets.
To be continued ...
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