Kate Brian - Hereafter

I pulled in a broken breath, fumbling for the zipper on my jeans, but my hands were shaking so hard there was no catching it. Somehow, I pulled myself up to standing and forced myself to take air into my lungs. Tristan’s sandals lay a few feet away, one on the sand, one on the steps, where he’d kicked them off, probably to gain more speed.

“Are you all right?” Tristan asked, approaching me slowly. I covered the V of my exposed underwear with one hand, clutching my opposite shoulder with the other. Brian lay crooked and still behind Tristan, blood dripping from his nose.

“I…I…” It was the only syllable I could get out without bursting into tears. Tristan glanced down, and the rush of heat to my face was so intense I almost passed out. He shrugged out of his sweatshirt and tied it backward around my waist, so that the bulk of it was covering my front.

“Rory,” he said, hands on my shoulders. “Are you all right? Say something. Anything.”

I couldn’t believe how badly I had screwed this up. I couldn’t believe he’d had to rescue me. All this talk about being part of his world, one of the Lifers, having this mission, and I’d already failed.

“I’m so sorry, Tristan,” I said. “I can’t believe I—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said fiercely, one hand moving to cup my face. His thumb traced an arc back and forth across my cheek, and my skin hummed. “This is my fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“But you were,” I said, looking up into his clear blue eyes. “You saved me.”

And then I burst into tears, burying my face in his chest. Tristan held me tightly to him, his arms locked around me as my body quaked with each fresh sob. I was still crying when the first fingers of fog rolled toward us with a low hiss, curling over the lights on the buoys, consuming the boats in their slips and finally the shoreline itself. Seconds later, the fog swallowed us whole, leaving me and Tristan alone in its cool, white grip.

“Who the hell do you people think you are?” Brian seethed, kicking his legs as Joaquin and Kevin yanked him out of the pickup. His heels dragged through the dirt alongside the road, leaving two shallow, jagged trails behind him. “I didn’t do anything. She wanted it.”

He lifted his chin in my direction, and I stepped sideways behind Tristan. We had followed Joaquin in Bea’s Jeep, a bright yellow rusted-out vehicle that wasn’t much more than a go-cart with the top down and the doors removed. Tristan and I had huddled in the back, and I’d pulled his sweatshirt on to guard against the face-numbing wind, while Krista had ridden up front, holding her hair in place with both hands as we bounced over every bump and pothole.

I could hardly look at Brian. I couldn’t believe how wrong I’d been about him, how thoroughly fooled. I felt like an idiot, standing there with the others. Like the stupid new girl. I hadn’t looked Tristan in the eye since he’d saved me.

“Dude, just take this and get the hell out of here,” Joaquin said, releasing him and slapping a gold coin into his hand.

Brian looked at it. “What is this?” he asked, his speech slurred either from the drinking or the punch he’d taken.

“Just go, already,” Kevin grunted, pushing him toward the bridge so hard he almost stumbled.

“Go where?” Brian asked, throwing his arms wide even as he backed toward the bridge. It was as if there were a magnet inside the swirling fog, pulling him toward the open mouth of the path. “You can’t pin anything on me. I can stay here as long as I want.”

He had reached the precipice, the seam between dirt road and paved entry, and he paused, eyeing me derisively. My heart rate quickened, half expecting a hand to reach out and grab him and pull him shouting into the abyss. But nothing happened. He simply stood there while the rest of us stared.

“All right. That’s it.” Joaquin bent both knees and grabbed Brian around the legs, lifting him over his shoulder in a firefighter’s carry.

“What the hell, man?” Brian spat, pounding on Joaquin’s back.

Without replying, Joaquin strode toward the bridge and disappeared into the fog, the mist undulating around them. Suddenly we heard a slam and a pathetic-sounding “oof.”

I glanced furtively at the others. “What did he just—”

But then Joaquin sauntered free of the thick, swirling wall, clapping his hands together, a cocky smirk on his face. Behind him, the fog suddenly whipped into a spinning gray vortex, and there was an odd sucking sound. A cold blast of wind nearly knocked me off my feet, its chill creeping around my heart, freezing it solid. Then everything went still.

“Seriously?” Tristan asked Joaquin, gesturing back toward the bridge.

“What?” he said, raising his palms. “I was sick of listening to him.”

“Me, too,” Bea said, unwrapping a piece of gum and popping it into her mouth.

Kevin spat on the ground in roughly the vicinity of Brian’s footprints.

Krista hid a smile behind her hand. She lifted her shoulders at my surprised, somewhat judging look. “What? At least they’re good for comic relief.”

“Is it always like that?” I asked quietly.

“No,” Tristan said, placing his hand on my back. “When they’re going to the Light, it’s really quite…peaceful.”

“And sometimes when they’re going to the Shadowlands, too,” Krista added, reaching back to pull the rubber band from her long blond ponytail and retie it, smoothing the ratty strands that had been tugged free during our off-roading. “Since they have no clue where they’re going.”

“And normally we can each handle these things alone,” Bea said, turning back toward where the cars were parked, their headlights making twin beams on the windswept reeds. “These last two just didn’t want to go quietly, so—”

“When that happens, we bring backup,” Kevin explained darkly.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked the group.

Tristan looked down at my hands, and I realized for the first time that I was clutching his sweatshirt at my sides, my arms wrapped around my stomach like two taut bungee chords.

“Well, you’ve just officially attended your first ushering,” Tristan said, looking somehow proud and nervous at the same time.

“So Steven Nell didn’t count?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You didn’t know then that you were one of us.”

“Consider sending that jerk to the Shadowlands your initiation,” Bea said, stepping up behind me. Somehow, that one action felt reassuring, like by standing behind me, she was saying she would always have my back.

Krista walked around her brother, her hair now smooth, her flowered dress perfectly fitted at the waist, the skirt billowing slightly behind her. She reached for my hand and held it, cupping my fingers in her own. The same warmth radiated off her as came off her brother, except there was a sweeter, less intense quality to hers. Almost tentative. I felt a pulse of anticipation.

“And now that you’re officially one of us,” Krista said with an excited smile, “there’s something you need to see.”

The rocky slope was steep and uneven, each step an act of faith as we walked in a straight line—Joaquin, then Tristan, then me, with Krista, Bea, and Kevin trailing along behind. The sounds of the waves rolling onto shore and the brief flashes of whitecaps far out on the surface signaled that the ocean was somewhere up ahead.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, tiptoeing over a slick rock.

“Trust, little protégé, trust,” Joaquin said, his grin glowing in the darkness as he looked back over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’re almost there,” Tristan told me.