Chapter 10
Like a Fish to Water
Brooke
As soon as Alex started toward them, Brooke turned and willed herself forward again. And holy crap, her dark form obeyed! God, this was amazing!
Powered by nothing more than the force of her intention, she zoomed out over the broad, flat Saint John River. She heard someone behind her—Maryanne?—murmur about how beautiful the river was. And oh, it was! With that odd, extra clarity, the dark water glittered in the moonlight like a massive spill of dancing sequins.
Brooke willed herself closer to the water’s surface, skimming along as she’d seen birds do when they fished. It was awesome! And the smell! With the air rushing by, it was just like being on a motorboat. Well, without the stink of gasoline and the noise of the outboard. And yeah, the sun-warmed smell of the river was completely different than this night-cool smell. Okay, it was nothing like a motorboat ride. Except it was just as thrilling. More thrilling!
She willed herself faster, but the desire failed to translate itself into reality. For the first time tonight, she felt a twinge of disappointment. Her speed seemed to have topped out. At least with her current degree of skill. But who knew? Maybe they could learn to go much faster, with practice. Right now, she figured she was moving faster than a person could run, but not nearly as fast, say, as a motorcycle. Hell, not as fast as a Moped, probably. Maybe as fast as a horse could gallop, though honestly she really didn’t know how fast that was. It was hard to gauge speed, especially since they were moving upstream. With the water flowing beneath them, maybe it only seemed like they were going fast.
Something touched her leg and she glanced down, startled. Until she realized it wasn’t her leg. Well, yes it was her leg, but not cast Brooke’s leg. Original Brooke’s leg. Back in the attic, one of the other girls had flopped a foot onto Brooke’s calf. How weird to be feeling what her body was feeling back there!
They’d agreed on that terminology—cast and original—right out of the gate. Attaching those labels had been as much about processing what had happened to Alex as it was about efficient communication. The terms made perfect sense to Brooke, “cast” being this free part that shot out—cast out—through the window, and “original” being the body that slumped bonelessly to the floor.
Except it wasn’t just a body she’d left behind. Original Brooke might look like an empty shell in that paralytic state, but she was far from vacant. Her heart had pounded with terror when she’d slipped through that window, and it pounded still, but it did so now with the thrill of flight. She was fully aware and conscious. She just couldn’t move.
But cast Brooke? Cast Brooke could fly!
She caught a flash of movement to her right and saw that Alex had caught up to them. She craned her neck to see that Maryanne cruised a comfortable few yards behind. And she could almost feel their exhilaration! Their joy matched her own as they raced along over the lazily moving current.
It struck her anew how weird this was. She was floating weightlessly, moving by sheer force of will, seemingly without exertion. It was surreal. Yet at the same time, it felt just as real as anything she’d ever experienced. The more she thought about that, the more she thought she should be freaked out. But she wasn’t, not even for a second. Just as Alex had said, there was little fear as a cast.
They rounded a bend in the river and a tall stand of pines caught Brooke’s attention.
“I’m going to go touch the top of that tree!” she called to the others.
Without waiting to see if they followed, she cut away. The night smell changed when she left the river behind. The scent of the earth and forest was warmer than that of the river, as though it were still releasing some of the sun’s energy that it had stored during the day.
As she neared the tree, she slowed her speed. When she got close enough, she stuck her hand out to trail it through the soft boughs of the giant white pine. Or rather she tried to. But her hand simply passed through them without rustling so much as a single pine needle. She tried it again, with the same result, then lifted her hand to examine it.
She hadn’t touched it, yet she had. Because when she’d drawn her hand back, she came away with a feeling of knowing exactly what it was to be the pine needle, to be the frigging branch! But even as she stared at her hand, the sensation left her. She swiped her hand through the boughs again, and again she felt it. Once more the sensation faded in a matter of seconds.
Bizarre!
“What are you doing?”
Brooke turned to see the other girls had joined her.
“This is so freaky! Run your hand through those boughs and tell me what you feel.”
The others tried it, to the same effect. “Wow, that’s crazy!” Maryanne said.
“This is going to be even crazier,” Alex said, and before Brooke knew what she intended to do, Alex dropped down to where the tree’s trunk grew thicker and—oh, shit!—moved her arm right through the tree.
“Omigod, it’s so old!” Alex cried. “This tree must have been standing before any of the town was here.”
But Brooke wasn’t listening. She’d caught sight of something below on the ground, approaching from the south. Coyotes. Four of them, at least. “Look, guys. We’ve got company trotting our way.”
“Wow! I’ve never seen a wolf before,” Maryanne said.
“Coyote,” Alex corrected. “We don’t have wolves in the Maritimes, but we make up for it with big-assed coyotes. They’re nothing like the little western ones. Some scientists believe they’re a coyote/wolf hybrid.”
“Let’s go down for a closer look,” Brooke said.
“Don’t bother,” Alex said. “You’ll just scare them away.”
“How do you know that?” Maryanne asked. “Maybe they won’t even see us in the dark.”
But Brooke knew how Alex knew. The diary. Yet Alex said nothing. Typical.
“Let’s check it out for ourselves, shall we?” Brooke said.
Brooke started to move toward the pack, half expecting a protest from the others. Well, from Maryanne anyway. But as she neared the animals, she felt the others right behind her.
The pack sensed something amiss before they got very close. The biggest one—the leader?—bristled, standing there all stiff-legged and growling low in his throat. The rest of them slunk closer to the leader, whining. As the girls edged closer, the leader wheeled toward his pack. Clearly that was the signal to retreat, because they started to melt quietly away.
Brooke shot upward, then pressed for all the speed she could muster. In a matter of seconds, she had overtaken the coyotes, who’d opted for stealth over speed. Then she promptly dropped directly into their path. The lead dog yipped its surprise and scuttled backward.
“Spread out!” she called to the other girls. “Surround them and see what they do!”
To Brooke’s surprise, the girls complied.
Surrounded now, the coyotes formed a defensive circle. Like spokes in a wheel, they put their rumps together and turned their bared teeth toward the threat.
Brooke dove toward them, pulling up at the last instant. The pack fell back, one of them actually urinating on itself as it cowered low. They were terrified! Brooke laughed.
“Come on, that’s enough!” Maryanne said, falling back.
“Yeah, leave ’em alone, Brooke.”
“Okay,” she said. “In just a minute.” With that, she buzzed the pack again, but this time the coyotes turned tail and raced off, the path to freedom having opened up when the girls abandoned their positions. Brooke zoomed after the retreating pack. With the wind in her face, she could smell the wild, musky scent of them, mixed with fear. It was heady stuff.
“Run, you scaredy-cats!” she shouted. “Run! Run!”
Brooke heard a noise behind her and turned to see that Alex and Maryanne had joined her in the chase. The coyotes ran harder, stretching for the safety of the forest just ahead. When they reached the woods’ protective cover, the girls swung bac
k, laughing.
“That was awesome!” Brooke said.
“Amazing,” Maryanne agreed.
“Hey, guys, maybe we should think about going back.”
Brooke turned to gape at Alex. “What? We just got out here!”
“We’ve probably been out longer than we think,” she said. “And remember, we’re still back there, paralyzed, vulnerable. Anything could happen.”
Man, she missed the old Alex. This one was a real wet blanket. Even Maryanne seemed downright adventurous in cast form. But instead of launching into yet another harangue about the futility of Alex trying to change her spots at this late date, Brooke decided to reason with her.
“If anything happened, we’d know it,” Brooke pointed out. “Or can’t you feel yourself—your original—lying back there? I can feel mine.”
“Oh, I can feel her... er, me. Or however the hell I should say it. But still... someone could come along. Maybe somebody heard us when we fell to the floor and they’ll come to investigate.”
“We had a nice, soft, quiet landing on the cushions, just like we planned,” Brooke corrected. “If they didn’t hear us the other night, no way would they have heard us tonight.”
“That’s right,” Maryanne said. “We made a heck of a lot more noise that other night. Remember? You falling from a standing position with a big thump, and us rushing around trying to figure out what to do for you. Then when you came back in... ”
“Yeah, that made a lot of noise, too. You choking the hell out of Maryanne, I mean.”
“Thank you for that reminder, Brooke.”
Brooke grinned. She couldn’t see Alex’s eyes—or any features of her face, for that matter—but she was completely certain Alex was glaring at her right now.
“I still think we should go back. This is our first time; we should take it easy, learn the ropes.”
“Suit yourself,” Brooke said. “But I have somewhere to go first before I’m ready to go back.”
She turned to leave but Maryanne called to her. “Wait! We should all go back together. In case... you know... one of us has trouble getting back in.”
Whoa! Trouble getting back into her body? She hadn’t even thought of that. Part of her knew that prospect should give her some anxiety, but it didn’t.
“Then come with me,” Brooke said. “It’ll be fun!”
The girls returned to the river.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Alex said, surging up beside Brooke. “Where are we going?”
“To pay a visit to Seth Walker.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Maryanne said, zooming up to flank Brooke’s other side.
“Are you kidding? It’s a great idea.”
“Wait, who’s Seth Walker?” Alex asked.
“The guy she dropped that bomb on in front of his friends,” Maryanne said.
Alex snorted. “The imaginary HPV infection?”
“That’s the guy,” Brooke said grimly. “And that’s his place down there. The one with the big paddock and horse barn.”
Seth’s house was a ranch-style monstrosity. He’d never actually taken her home to visit, but they’d gone there once, so he could run in and retrieve a gram bag of weed. She should have known what a pussy he was then, too paranoid to carry that miniscule amount on him until the very minute he intended to smoke it. She’d waited in the car as instructed, but he had pointed out which second-floor window was his bedroom. She definitely should have known what a dick he was when he failed to invite her in and introduce her to his family.
Well, tonight Seth was going to get a little payback.
“Whoa.” Maryanne stopped a few hundred yards from the house. “This is as far as I go. You want to spy on him, go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
“Me too,” Alex said.
“Fine by me.” She really didn’t need an audience for this next part.
Calmly, she soared over the neatly mown lawn and the pretty flowerbeds and around a big oak tree to hover outside Seth’s window. And yes! He was home. Of course, where else would he be in the dead of night? At least, she thought it was him. It was hard to tell from here. But she was sure it was the bedroom he’d pointed out to her. He’d even given her a wave from the window. Yeah, this was it.
Now... how to get in?
She approached the window. She could probably go through it, just like she’d run her hands through that pine, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to try it. For all she knew, a second trip through glass in caster form could have unwelcome consequences. But as she got closer, she saw the window was wide open, covered only by a mosquito screen, which struck her as odd. It was quite chilly tonight. She could see sleeping with the window cracked, but jacked wide open? Then she caught the faint but distinctive odor of pot. Ha! He was airing the ganja stink out of his room while he slept. She stifled a laugh, then wondered why she bothered. No one could hear her but Maryanne and Alex. Moving into a horizontal position, Brooke slipped in through the screened window slick as water flowing through a sieve.
She drifted over the big queen-sized bed, and yes, the sleeping form in it was Seth. He slept on his back with both arms thrown up to rest on the pillow by his head. The posture put her in mind of a sleeping baby. An innocent. She shook her head, denying the comparison. As if! More like an arrogant man who felt so secure in his world, he believed nothing could harm him. Golden boy! He didn’t have to curl on his side and hug his pillow. He didn’t feel the need to roll over to protect his soft underbelly. Apparently life hadn’t dealt him any low blows.
Dammit, Seth, why’d you have to go and be such a total jerk? I liked you. I more than liked you. But you didn’t like me very much, did you? I wasn’t girl-next-door-wholesome enough for your parents, was I? And then, when I finally get dirty with you, which you’d been begging for, for months, I’m suddenly yesterday’s stinking garbage?
She drifted closer, wishing she could actually grip something. Handy as it was to be able to move through solid objects, she wished she could just take a handful of Seth’s hair and give it a vicious rip. And how weird was that when you thought about it? She could actually touch her fellow casts, but the ‘real’ things around her, the material things, she moved right through them.
Then she remembered the way it had felt went she put her hand through the boughs of that tree. It had left her with a powerful sense of the bough itself, if only fleetingly. What if she were to stick that same hand inside Seth’s head? Would she come away knowing something?
Even as the thought formed, she acted on it. She was ready to see her fingers disappear into him, but to her shock, they made contact with his scalp. She jerked her hand back, and he twitched and murmured in his sleep. Shit! She could touch him. Well, if she could touch him... she could damn well yank his hair!
She did, wrapping her fingers in those glossy blond locks and giving them a really good tug.
He roared and his arm shot up. Before she could lift far enough away, he’d grabbed her by the wrist. Shit! She was snared. Her first time out and she damn well got herself caught. She renewed her efforts to pull away, fighting madly.
“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my room?”
“Let me go!” she yelled, but of course he didn’t hear her. She struck at his arm, but he was so much stronger. And he was pulling her toward the side of the bed. Oh, crap, he was reaching for the lamp! Frantic to escape, she opened her mouth and let loose a bellow of rage and desperation.
And omigod, the sound that came out! It was unearthly! A foghorn deep, wall-shaking primal scream! It must have rattled Seth to the bone—quite literally—for she felt it sink into him and travel back up his arm. He released her instantly, snatching his hand back.
Because she was still freaking out that that sound had actually come up from somewhere inside her, it took her a second to realize that she was free. As soon as that fact registered, she zoomed to the window, but she was a second too late. Seth hit the switch on his lamp just as she dove t
hrough the opening.
“What the hell?” She heard his panicked shout as she disappeared through the mosquito screen and rushed away from the building. She also heard another male voice as someone—presumably Seth’s dad, or maybe his brother Bryce—broke into the room. As fun as it would have been to hang around and listen to Seth explain how a shadow had attacked him—or oh God, the lingering smell of the joint he’d smoked—she was frankly too shaken.
Besides, Alex and Maryanne were there, tugging at her.
“Come on, come on, let’s go!” Alex urged.
Brooke didn’t need any convincing, but before she could move, the night exploded in a white ball of light. What now? Oh, God, a yard light! Someone had turned on a light on a giant pole next to the house.
“Up!” Alex cried, and shot straight up into the air, beyond the light’s reach.
Below, Seth and Bryce spilled out the house’s front door, down the porch and onto the grassy lawn. “There!” Seth pointed to them. “Up by my window.”
“Up, dammit!” Maryanne grabbed Brooke’s arm and the two of them arrowed straight up and out of sight.
And oh, God, Brooke felt like she was having a heart attack. Not cast Brooke, but original Brooke. Back there in the attic, her heart was tripping like crazy. And her lungs! Man, she was working for oxygen while her body jittered, limbs twitching spasmodically.
“Jesus, what was that?” Bryce’s voice was high with fright. “And it was in your room?”
“Damn straight it was. And it pulled half my hair out!”
“But what was it?”
“What do you think it was, idiot? It was the Mansbridge Heller!”
The girls didn’t stick around to hear anymore. They broke for home at top speed. Which, Brooke noticed, didn’t seem to be as fast as before. Was it just that they were getting used to the sensation of flying, or were they actually moving slower? Her limbs did seem heavier now, as though she’d gathered weight somehow as the night wore on. Did the others feel that way too? Or was it just her? And if it was just her, was it because Seth had grabbed her? Had touching his flesh drained her? Could being reminded on that basic level of the wrongness, the unnaturalness of her current state, somehow suck away her cast powers?
“What happened back there?” Maryanne said. “And what the hell was that noise? Was that you?”
“It came out of me, all right, but I have no idea what it was.” Brooke glanced over at Alex. “Maybe Alex here can shed some light on it.”
Alex sighed. “Look, our hearts can use a break back there, not to mention our nerves. Let’s just concentrate on getting home, okay? We can talk about this stuff when we’re safely inside again.”
She did know about that noise. It was there in her voice.
“Dammit, Alex,” Brooke said bitterly. “Any other critical information we should know?”
“Give it a rest,” Maryanne snapped. “Alex will tell us what she knows about that... sound. And you’ll tell us what you did to Seth Walker.”
Oh, great. They’d never get to bed tonight.