The Awakening

Thirty-seven

THE HOUSE WAS BIGGER than it looked, with four doors off the rear hall.

The first led to a guest room, the bed covers pulled tight, towels folded on top of the dresser, no sign that anyone had used it recently. The next was an office with a futon couch—more room for guests, but again, no sign that any had been here in a while. Across the hall was a bathroom. It, too, looked unused, with wrapped soap and unopened shampoo on the counter, ready for guests.

At the end of the hall was the master bedroom. It was as tidy as the rest of the house, but the bed was unmade. A bathrobe lay crumpled on a chair. On one nightstand sat a half-filled glass of water and a paperback novel. There was an attached bathroom, with a rumpled bath mat and a towel draped over the shower stall. I squeezed the towel. Dry.

Back in the hall, Derek dropped again to sniff.

“They were here,” he said.

“Simon and Tori?”

He nodded.

“They didn’t sleep here last night, though,” I said. “No one’s used this room in a while.

He nodded again.

“Can you smell anyone else?” I asked.

“Just Andrew. I’ll check the front again.”

He walked off, apparently having decided that the house was empty, so it was safe to leave me behind. I met up with him back in the kitchen as I examined the toast. He bent to sniff it.

“Andrew?” I asked.

He nodded.

I walked to the table and looked at the newspaper. “It’s like he was reading this, drinking his coffee, and waiting for the toast to pop. He puts jam on it, takes a bite and then…”

And then what? That was the question.

I picked up the coffeepot. “It’s been on since at least this morning.”

He walked over and eyed the pot. “Rings show it was almost full. To evaporate that much, it’s been on since yesterday.”

“Before Simon and Tori arrived.”

Derek didn’t answer. He was staring out the window over the sink, his gaze blank.

“Is this…like your dad?” I asked. “When he disappeared?”

He nodded.

“Were there any other scents at the door?”

He turned slowly then, his attention shifting back to me. “Yeah, but there are lots of reasons why someone would come to the door. None seem to go past it. No recent trails, at least.”

“The table in the front hall looks like someone bumped into it and the mail fell off. From the looks of this place, Andrew doesn’t seem the type to leave a mess like that.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Something happened at the door, then. Someone came or someone called and Andrew left in a hurry.”

Like their dad. I didn’t say it again—I already knew he was thinking it.

I circled the kitchen, looking for more clues. Everything was so neat that any disruption would stick out, and I couldn’t see any.

“It’s definitely breakfast for one,” I said. “And there’s no sign that Simon or Tori used the spare bedrooms or guest bath. That would suggest that whatever happened here, it happened before they arrived.”

Derek nodded, like he’d already come to this conclusion.

I opened cupboards, all perfectly ordered inside. “It seems like Simon did exactly what we did—came in, walked around, realized something had happened and then…”

And then what? That question again.

“If they left, there’ll be a second trail outside,” Derek said as he strode to the kitchen door. “I’ll see if they went back to the road or—”

“Or maybe this will help.” I snatched a drawing hung among the bills and notes on the fridge. “This is Simon’s work, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t as obvious as the message he’d left in the warehouse—a comic-book character would stand out too much on Andrew’s fridge. Simon trusted Derek to recognize his work even when it was a simple sketch.

“Yeah, it’s his.”

“It’s someone swimming. I have no idea what it means but—”

“Pool house,” Derek called back, already striding toward the rear of the house.

I scrambled after him, but by the time I reached the door, it was already shutting. I stepped out into the pitch-black yard, huge trees closing in on all sides, blocking the moonlight. Derek popped from the shadows, making me yelp. He waved me back inside and shut the door.

“He’s not there?” I said.

“Running outside might not be such a smart idea.”

He took the picture again and studied it, like he was looking for any clue that Simon hadn’t drawn it willingly.

“Front door,” he said. “We’ll go the long way. Sneak up.”

With an impatient wave for me to stay close, he started off. I took out my switchblade again and followed. It was a slow trip to the pool house. Derek stopped every few feet to look, listen, and sniff. It was too dark for me to do anything except stay as close as I could. With his dark clothing and quiet walk, that wasn’t easy; and every so often I had to reach out and brush the back of his jacket to reassure myself he was still in front of me.

Finally we could see a clearing ahead and, in it, a pale building. Then came a shrill whistle.

“Simon,” Derek said.

He broke into a jog, leaving me scrambling after him. Before he reached the door, it clicked open.

“Hey, bro,” Simon whispered. He thumped Derek’s back, the nylon jacket crinkling. “Where’s Chloe?”

“Right behind—” Derek turned and saw me stumbling along. “Sorry.”

“Forgot not everyone has your night vision?” Simon thumped him again and strode past, greeting me with a one-armed hug and a whispered, “Good to see you.”

He squeezed my upper arm, then started to say something before Derek cut him off with a hissed, “Inside.”

We stepped through the door into the glow of a lantern. Noticing that, Derek looked around sharply.

“Relax,” Simon said. “No windows. You didn’t notice the light, did you?”

Derek grunted and walked farther in. As he’d said, it was a pool house, filled with neatly stacked and organized pool and yard supplies. Simon and Tori had set up two lawn chairs. Wrappers and Diet Coke cans covered a nearby table-top. I glanced around for Tori and found her asleep on an inflated raft.

“The longer she sleeps, the better,” Simon said. “It’s a good thing you two showed up because another day alone with her?” He pantomimed throttling.

“I saw that,” said a sleepy voice. Tori lifted her head. “Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

She sat up and raked her hair back, stifling a yawn. “There’s nothing like spending a whole day alone with a guy to make a girl say, ‘What was I thinking?’”

“At least one good thing came of it,” Simon murmured.

Tori looked at me. “He left me here. Alone. Unarmed. At the mercy of whoever took his dad’s friend—”

“First, from what I hear of your spells, you’re a helluva lot better armed than I am,” Simon said. “Second. Left you? Excuse me? You refused to come along.”

“Because I didn’t see the point. Why go racing off looking for the bad guys? I’m sure if we stick around here, they’ll find us soon enough. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far from this place as possible. But no, poor Derek and Chloe might not find us. Hello?” She waved at Derek. “Human bloodhound. He’ll find us.”

Simon leaned down to me and whispered, “It was fun.”

“And then—” Tori continued.

I cut in, “And then we remembered that we called a moratorium on bickering and if we have any issues to discuss, we should wait until we’re someplace safe.”

“We need to discuss a game plan, too,” Derek said, “in case this happens again. Right now, the important thing is Andrew.” He turned to Simon. “What did you find when you got here?”

Exactly what we had, as Simon explained. The front door had been ajar, and they’d left it that way to warn us to enter with caution. They’d walked through the house, and when Simon realized it looked like when his dad had vanished, they got out of there quickly. Simon left the note, and found the keys, and they retreated to the pool house.

“Do you have the keys?” Derek asked.

Simon handed them to him.

Derek flipped through. “Looks like a full set. Is the car still in the garage?”

Simon swore under his breath. “Totally forgot to check.”

“We’ll look, but I’ll bet it is.”

“Car?” Tori walked over. “We have a car?”

“No, we do not—” Derek began.

“You’re sixteen, right?” Tori said.

“I turned sixteen two months ago, locked up in Lyle House, meaning I don’t have a license and even if I did—”

“But you can drive, right?” she said. “You look old enough that no cop would pull you over as long as you keep to the speed limit, don’t run a yellow—”

“I’m not stealing a car from a guy who has disappeared and may be reported missing at any moment. My only point about the car was that if it’s still here, Andrew didn’t drive off. Someone took him. We just don’t know whether it was with his permission.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Presume he was kidnapped and get as far from here as we can, in case they come back.”

Tori turned to Simon. “See? We can get some sleep, then we’re taking my advice—”

“I mean right now,” Derek said.

He was right—the sooner we left, the better—but I couldn’t help feeling my shoulders slump at the thought of hitting the road again. Walking again. Eating energy bars and sleeping in alleys again. I tried not to picture the house, warm and cozy, with beds, food, showers…

Feeling Derek’s gaze on me, I straightened. “I’m good.”

“Of course she is,” Tori said. “Our perky little—” This time, she cut herself off. “Okay, sorry, but you know what I mean, guys. As long as Chloe can walk, she’s not going to admit she needs to rest.”

“I slept on the bus.”

“For about an hour,” Derek said. “And none last night.”

“What happened last—?” Simon stopped. “Later, I know. But Tori has a point. Chloe needs to rest and she’s not the only one. We’re beat. It’s already late. If we can rest here safely, we should all recharge our batteries. Otherwise they’re going to quit when we need them most.”

I could tell Derek wanted us to move out, but after a moment’s consideration, he waved us to the door. “We’re up at dawn, gone a half-hour later. If you aren’t ready, you stay behind. Any light that isn’t on, leave it off. Stay away from all the windows….”