Kate Brian - Endless

“I have to do this, Bea,” I said quietly. “If there’s a chance he’s on the bridge, I have to find him. I have to help my family.”

Bea’s eyes suddenly flooded with tears. “Don’t. Rory, you don’t—”

I reached out and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” I told her, barely believing it myself.

She looked desperately at Joaquin, but Fisher was the one who spoke up. “Jay, you’re not really going to do this. You’re not seriously going to tell me you think this is a good idea.”

“It may not be a good idea, but it’s the only idea we’ve got,” he said.

He reached over to take my hand and gave it a squeeze. My heart flooded and a faint blush crept up my cheeks. “You ready?” he asked.

I nodded, even though, of course, I wasn’t. “Let’s go.”

“No,” Lauren cried. “You guys! No! Don’t do this! Don’t—”

We took our first step into the wall of fog, and her frantic pleas were cut off. It was as if someone had hit a cosmic mute button and the world went silent, save for the mist. I took a breath. The fog undulated as I exhaled. Joaquin’s arm was warm and steady. He gave me a bolstering look.

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay.”

We took another slow, tentative step. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth. The air grew markedly colder with each breath. Joaquin adjusted his grip on my hand, and I could feel the slick sweat that had pooled between our palms.

“Tristan?” he called loudly, clearly.

There was nothing. Nothing but the hissing of the mist. We walked a bit farther, and I realized suddenly that it wasn’t even raining here in the murky grayness. The bridge was immune to the weather. Except for the fog.

“Tristan?” I said, then gulped. “Nadia?”

It was worth a try, but there was no response. My spine crawled, and I steeled myself, holding on tighter to Joaquin’s hand. Even if they were here, they wouldn’t be able to see us any better than we could see them. Right?

We took another tentative step. Another. And then we heard the laugh—and the whispering. Joaquin and I froze.

“…look at them…”

“…she thinks that she’s…”

“…can’t even…”

“…dead…”

A cold dread settled in my bones. I stood, holding my breath and listening.

“Who’s there?” Joaquin said at full voice.

The response was a single, sarcastic laugh. Male, female—I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that it was laughing at me. Then, a single icy finger trailed ever so slowly down the back of my neck. I gasped and then realized with a sinking feeling that I was no longer holding Joaquin’s hand. It was as if someone had grabbed him from behind and dragged him away so fast he didn’t even have time to scream.

“Joaquin!” I shouted. “Joaquin!”

The mist gathered around the spot where he’d stood, forming into a perfect wall as if he’d never even been there. Hot tears of terror coursed down my face.

“Joaquin! Where are you?” I could still feel the warmth of his fingers against mine. “Where are you?”

Silence, as complete and total as death. My fingernails drilled into my palms. I was alone.

Someone blew on my neck. I let out a screech and whirled around. Nothing but the mist.

“Stop it. Please,” I whimpered. “Please. Please don’t hurt him. I just want to find my sister. My dad. Please just leave us alone.”

“Rory!” a voice sang out teasingly. “Rooooreeee!”

And then, the whistling. “The Long and Winding Road.” It was being whistled directly into my ear.

I ran for my life, forgetting everything other than my own survival. I sprinted straight ahead—away from the voice—barreling through the fog, certain at every moment that I would run right into the waiting arms of my tormentor, Steven Nell. I looked over my shoulder, to the left, to the right. There was nothing but the mist. The unforgiving, unrelenting mist.

As I kept running, an awful thought began to scratch at the back of my mind. What if I ran right into the Shadowlands? But no. It wasn’t possible. I needed a coin to open the portal. My only hope was to stay on the bridge. To keep going. If I kept going, maybe I’d find Joaquin or Tristan or Nadia—someone. Anyone who could tell me how to find my way back.

I was panting. About to pass out. How long had I been running? How long did I have to go before I—

“Rory, honey, stop.”

“Mom?”

I tripped. My knees hit the metal roadway with a jarring slam. I gasped in relief. I’d heard my mother’s voice. I’d heard her. I sucked in a few breaths, my lungs on fire, and tried to focus, pressing my palms into the grooved metal ground. I took comfort in its very existence. At least it was familiar. It was something real.

“Mom?” I pushed myself up again, turning around in circles. “Mom?”

“…which way is she…”

“…doesn’t know…”

“…so naive she is, so very…”

“…straight ahead, honey. Straight ahead.”

Something moved in the mist, and I ran toward it. “Joaquin?” I paused and gathered myself, squinting. Suddenly I smelled something familiar. The spicy scent of Tristan’s shampoo. I felt his presence as clearly as if he were standing beside me, holding my hand. It was as if I could hear his heartbeat.

“Tristan?” I said, my voice cracking. “Tristan, is that you?”

There was a clearing up ahead. I could almost see. Was it the portal to the Light? The Shadowlands? Was it Joaquin? Tristan? Was my mother really here? I ran as fast as I could, holding on to hope, trying to blot out the fear. But as I ran, something pulled at my hair. Not the fog, not the rain, but something alive. Long, hungry fingers reached for me, snagging in my hair, trying to drag me back. The harder I ran, the farther they reached, now scratching at my ears, now whisking against my cheeks.

“…don’t go, don’t go, we can’t let you go…don’t go, don’t go, we can’t let you go…”

“Help me!” I screeched. “Someone, help me!”

I stumbled forward, my lungs burning. All I could feel were my feet pounding the ground and fear coursing through my veins. I ran and I ran and I ran until the rain suddenly battered my face—and I collided with Joaquin.

“Rory?” he said, grasping my elbows. “Oh my god. I thought I’d lost you.”

“You’re here!” I threw my arms around him and hugged him. “You’re all right!”

Joaquin cupped the back of my neck with one hand and tilted his head into my hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

When I finally got control of myself, I looked up, over his shoulders. The others were still standing there, in the exact same poses they’d been in when we left. I looked over my shoulder at the bridge, disoriented. I’d run in a straight line, hadn’t I? How could I have come back to the exact spot I’d left?

“I don’t understand,” I said, grasping Joaquin’s jacket as I tried to calm my racing thoughts. “How long were we gone? How long were we in there?”

“Three seconds,” Bea replied. “What the hell did you see?”

Joaquin and I locked eyes. I shook my head. I’d run for at least five minutes. Maybe ten. After three years of cross-country races I knew how to judge the length of my run.

“He wasn’t there,” I said, unable to imagine trying to explain what had gone on inside the mist. “He wasn’t…He wasn’t there.”

Joaquin held me to him, his arms locked tightly around me as the rain consumed us. Then, through my wet lashes, I saw a flash of pink, and suddenly Krista was running through the muck in our direction.

“Krista? What’s wrong?” Bea called out.

“The mayor sent me to get you. She’s losing it, guys,” Krista said, gasping for breath as she braced her hands over her knees. “You better come back. Like, now.”