P.C. Casr - Betrayed

The east wall.

In my dream I hesitated when I realized where I was. Then I saw the figures, hooded and cloaked, standing in a group of four in front of the open trapdoor in the wall.

No! I told my dreaming self. I don't want to be over here. Not so soon after Stevie Rae died. After the last two times fledglings died I saw their ghosts or spirits or undead walking bodies or whatever here. Even if I had been gifted with a weird ability to see the dead by Nyx. Enough was enough! I didn't want—

The smallest of the cloaked figures turned around and my in­ternal argument scattered from my mind. It was Stevie Rae! Only it wasn't. She looked too pale and thin. And there was something else about her. I stared, and my initial hesitation was overcome by a terrible need within me to understand. I mean, if it really was Stevie Rae, then I didn't need to be afraid of her. Even weirdly changed by death, she was still my best friend. Wasn't she? I couldn't help moving forward until I was standing only a few feet from the group. I held my breath, waiting for them to turn on me, but no one noticed me. In my dream world it was as though I was invisible to them. So I moved even closer, unable to take my eyes from Stevie Rae. She looked terrible—frantic—and she kept moving restlessly, shifting her eyes around her like she was ex­tremely nervous or extremely afraid.

"We shouldn't be here. We need to leave."

I jumped at the sound of Stevie Rae's voice. She still had her Okie accent, but nothing else was recognizable. Her tone was hard and flat, lacking all emotions except a kind of animallike nervousness.

"You're not in charge of usssss," one of the other cloaked fig­ures hissed, baring his teeth at Stevie Rae. Oh, ugh! It was that El­liott creature. Even though his body was weirdly hunched, he stood over her aggressively. His eyes had begun to glow a dirty red. I was afraid for her, but she didn't let him intimidate her, in­stead Stevie Rae bared her own teeth, her eyes blazed scarlet, and she gave an ugly snarl. Then she spat the words at him, "Does the earth answer you? No!" She walked forward, and Elliott automat­ically took several steps backward. "And until it does, you will obey me! That's what she said."

The Elliott thing made an awkward, subservient bow that the two other cloaked figures mimicked. Then Stevie Rae pointed to­ward the open trapdoor. "Now, we go quickly." But before any of them moved I heard a familiar voice from the other side of the wall.

"Hey, do y'all know Zoey Redbird? I need to tell her I'm here and—"

Heath's voice broke off when the four creatures, with blurring speed, rushed through the door after him.

"No! Stop! What the hell are you doing?" I yelled. My heart was beating so hard that it hurt as I ran to the closing door in time to see the three of them grabbing Heath. I heard Stevie Rae say, "He's seen us. Now he comes with us."

"But she said no more!" Elliott yelled as he kept an iron grip on the struggling Heath.

"He's seen us!" Stevie Rae repeated. "So he comes with us until she tells us what to do with him!"

They didn't argue with her, and with inhuman strength they dragged him away. The snow seemed to swallow his screams.

I sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard, sweating and trem­bling. Nala grumbled. I looked around the room and felt mo­mentarily panicked. I was alone! Had I just dreamed everything that had happened yesterday? I looked at Stevie Rae's empty bed, and at the lack of any of her stuff around the room. No. I hadn't dreamed it. My best friend was dead. I let the weight of the sad­ness settle into me, and knew I'd be carrying it around for a very long time.

But hadn't the Twins and Damien slept here? Still groggy, I rubbed my eyes and looked at my clock. It was 5:00 P.M. I must have fallen asleep some time between 6:30 and 7:00 A.M. Sheesh, I'd definitely gotten enough sleep. I got up, went to the heavily draped window, and peered out. Unbelievably, it was still snow­ing, and even though it was early, the gaslights were illuminating a slate-colored night and glistening with little snow haloes. Fledglings were doing typical kid stuff—building snowmen and having snow fights. I saw someone I thought was that Cassie Kramme girl who'd done so well in the monologue competition making snow angels with a couple other girls. Stevie Rae would have loved it. She would have made me wake up hours ago and had me out there with her in the thick of all of the fun (whether I wanted to be or not). Thinking about it, I didn't know whether I wanted to cry or smile.

"Z? Are you awake?" Shaunee called tentatively from the cracked door.

I motioned for her to come in. "Where'd you guys go?"

"We've been up a couple hours. We've been watching movies. Wanta come down with us? Erik and Cole, that totally fiiiine friend of his, are gonna come over." Then she looked around guiltily, as if remembering that Stevie Rae was gone and sorry she'd been acting normal. Something inside me made me speak.

"Shaunee, we have to go on. We have to date and be happy and live our lives. Nothing's guaranteed, Stevie Rae's death proved that. We can't waste the time we've been given. When I said I'd make sure she was remembered, I didn't mean that we were going to be sad forever. It meant I'd remember the happiness she brought to us, and keep her smile close to my heart. Always."

"Always," Shaunee agreed.

"If you give me a second I'll put on some jeans and meet you guys downstairs."

"'Kay," she said with a grin.

When Shaunee was gone, some of my happy façade faded. I'd meant what I said to her, it was just the acting out of it that was going to be hard. Plus, I was having a hard time shaking the bad dream. I knew it was just a dream, but it still bothered me. It was like I could hear the echoes of Heath's screams in the oppressive silence of my room. Moving automatically, I got dressed in my most comfortable jeans and a ginormic sweatshirt I'd bought from the school store a couple of weeks ago. Over my heart it had the silver embroidered insignia of Nyx standing with upraised hands cupping a full moon, and somehow it made me feel better. I brushed my hair and sighed at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like poo. So I spackled some concealer on the dark smudges un­der my eyes, added mascara and my shiny lip gloss that smelled like strawberries. Feeling more ready to face the world, I headed downstairs.

And paused at the end of the staircase. The scene was familiar, yet completely changed. Kids clustered around the flat-screen TVs. There should be talking, and there was, but it was definitely subdued. My group of friends were sitting around the TV we liked best: the Twins in their matching poofy chairs, Damien and Jack (looking very cozy) were sitting on the floor by the love seat, Erik was on the love seat, and I was surprised to see that his fiiiine friend, Cole, had pulled up a chair and was actually sitting be­tween the Twins. I felt my lips twitch up. He was either very brave or very moronic. They were all chattering softly, and definitely not paying attention to The Mummy Returns, which was playing on TV. So, except for two things, it was a perfectly familiar scene. First, they were being way too quiet. Second, Stevie Rae should have been sitting on the love seat with her feet folded under her telling everyone to be quiet so she could hear the movie.

I swallowed back the teary, burning feeling in the back of my throat. I had to go on. We had to go on.

"Hi, guys," I said, trying to sound normal.

This time there wasn't an awkward silence at my presence. In­stead there was an equally awkward everyone-talking-perkily-all-at-once.

"Hi, Z!"

"Zoey!"

"Hey there, Z!"

I managed not to sigh or roll my eyes as I took my place beside Erik. He put his arm around me and squeezed, which made me feel weirdly better but guilty. Better—because he was totally sweet and hot and I was still a little amazed that he seemed to like me so much. Guilty—well, that could be summed up in one word: Heath.