She thought back to her nightmare. The Whisper-Whisper Men, whatever they were, were scary, no doubt. But they weren’t the worst part of the dream. Not by a long shot.
Ms. DiPietro had stood by her desk the whole time, watching them write. Now she glanced at the clock on the wall.
“You have one more minute to finish up,” she said.
Alex’s paper was still blank. Without thinking about it too much, she scrawled a short sentence.
I’m afraid of being alone.
She looked at it for a moment, then added two more words.
Like Mom.
It wasn’t much, but at least it was something. She put down her pen and turned to Jackie. She saw her friend had covered two and a half pages. She turned around to see how Kerri had done, but her seat was empty.
As first Alex thought that maybe Kerri had gotten up to use the restroom without her noticing. But her backpack wasn’t there either.
She turned to Jackie and in a low voice asked, “What happened to Kerri?”
Jackie frowned.
“Who?”
• • •
Alex thought it was a weird joke and refused to talk to Jackie throughout the remainder of the class. They had different lunch periods, so Alex wouldn’t have to sit with Jackie, and that was fine with her. It was almost as if Jackie and Kerri had read what she’d written and decided to use it as the basis for a practical joke. Kerri had disappeared and left her “alone.” Except there was no way they could’ve pulled it off, even if they’d wanted to be that cruel—which, she had to admit, was out of character for both of them. Alex hadn’t written down her response until the last minute. There hadn’t been enough time for Jackie and Kerri to read the words and cook up their scheme—all without saying a word to each other. And Ms. DiPietro didn’t allow students to use their phones in class, so they couldn’t have texted back and forth. And no matter how deep in thought Alex had been, she didn’t think there was any way Kerri could’ve gotten up from her seat and left the room without Alex seeing her.
But it had to be a joke. What else could it be?
As she walked through the hallway to the cafeteria, she noticed that it didn’t seem as crowded as usual. Normally, she had to push and shove to make her way to the caff, but not today. Was some kind of cold or flu going around? Had a lot of people stayed home sick? Maybe that’s what had happened with Kerri. Maybe she’d started to feel sick and had left class and gone home. But if that was the case, why had Jackie pretended she didn’t know who Kerri was?
Alex wasn’t hungry, so all she bought for lunch was an apple and a bottle of water. She picked a seat at an empty table, sat down, sipped the water, and ignored the apple. The cafeteria was usually full of students, and finding a seat could be problematic—especially if you wanted to sit next to your friends and avoid certain other people. You could never guarantee where you were going to sit. But not today. Not only did she have an entire table to herself, about a third of the seats in the cafeteria were empty. Maybe more. The caff was normally a noisy, bustling place, but today it was quiet, the atmosphere subdued. As near as she could tell, no one seemed to notice the change or be particularly worried about it. No one acted weird or anything. There were just a lot fewer people here than usual, that was all.
But then a thought occurred to her. A terrible, awful thought.
Your dream’s coming true. People are starting to disappear, and it’s going to keep happening until no one is left but you.
It was a ridiculous thought, but no less frightening for it. And then she noticed that the soft murmur of conversation around her had taken on an ominous aspect. The voices had grown softer, sibilant, sounding more like whispers than people speaking out loud. As in her nightmare, she couldn’t make out the words, wasn’t even certain the language she was hearing was even English. The other students continued to act as if nothing was wrong, chatting and laughing, but in feather-soft whispery voices. As she watched, it became more difficult to make out individual facial features, almost as if the cafeteria’s lights were dimming. But she realized the lights overhead were as bright as always. It was the people who were growing dimmer, as if they were becoming cloaked in shadow.
Alex put down her water bottle, picked up her backpack, and left without bothering to throw away her water or her untouched apple. She walked toward the exit, telling herself not to run. If you run, they’ll chase you, she thought. She looked straight ahead, and as the whispering continued—in fact, seemed to grow louder—she felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon her. When she reached the door, she was tempted to glance behind her and see if everyone was looking at her, but she feared if she did, she’d see dark figures sitting where boys and girls had been only moments before. Still, she almost did it, but then the whispering stopped and silence filled the room. If she turned back, would she discover that the shadow-things had gotten out of their seats and were coming for her? Or would she discover that the caff was now entirely empty? She didn’t know which she’d find more terrifying, and in the end she pushed open the door and rushed into the hallway—the virtually empty hallway—without looking back.
• • •
The dismissal bell came as a huge relief to Alex. Her last class of the day was modern American history with Mr. Robertson. Except he wasn’t there—and when she said something about his absence to one of the six other students who showed up, they all looked at her like she was crazy. The other kids took out notebooks and textbooks and acted as if they were in an unsupervised study hall. It was majorly bizarre.
She lived only a few blocks from the school, and she always walked—unless the weather was really bad, and then Steve drove her. Even though he was a senior and had a car, he usually walked too. Their school was a large one, and walking saved him the hassle of dealing with the traffic caused by all the other kids with cars trying to leave at the same time. None of Alex’s friends lived close enough to walk, so she always waited on her brother. They weren’t besties or anything, but they got along okay. And she didn’t want to walk home alone, especially after the strange day she’d been through.
She waited for Steve outside the main entrance, as she always did. Far fewer kids came out the doors than usual, and there seemed to be fewer buses in the parking lot. She continued waiting for Steve until the buses were all gone and only a few of the teachers’ cars remained in the front lot. That’s when she finally gave up and started walking home. She told herself that Steve had probably gone out with friends after school and forgotten to text her about it. Or maybe some kind of flu epidemic really had hit the school, and he’d gone home sick earlier in the day.
As she walked, she wished she hadn’t waited so long for Steve. The sidewalks were empty now, and she was forced to walk alone. There was usually a good amount of traffic on the streets near the school, especially this time of day, but hardly any vehicles passed by. The flu, she thought. It’s hit the whole town. But she hadn’t heard a single person coughing or sneezing at school, hadn’t heard anyone complaining of a sore throat, aches, or chills. She hadn’t even seen anyone who’d looked sick.
She kept looking around as she walked, expecting to see dark figures peeking out from behind trees and parked cars, and around the sides of houses. But she didn’t. She expected to hear the shhh-shhh-shhh of sinister whispering, but there was nothing. There were still traffic noises and birdsong, too. Just not as much as usual.
She checked her phone several times as she walked to see if Steve had texted her yet, but he hadn’t. Neither had anyone else, which was weird. Usually she heard from Jackie and Kerri by now. They both rode the bus home, and the three of them texted back and forth during the ride. Kerri might have gone home sick and wasn’t feeling up to texting right now, but Jackie was fine. As far as Alex knew, anyway. Alex wasn’t upset with Jackie anymore. The day had been filled with too much strangeness for her to hold a grudge against Jackie for pretending she didn’t know who Kerri was. Besides, she wanted to know if her friends w
ere okay. She needed to hear from them, to make contact. She sent both of them a quick Hi, what’s up? text and then, after considering for a moment, she sent a similar message to Steve. She kept walking then, but she held her phone in her hand instead of putting it back in her pants pocket. She wanted to feel it vibrate the instant someone texted her back. And the weight of it in her hand reassured her, made her feel connected, less alone.
She thought back to what she’d written in her notebook during Ms. DiPietro’s class. I’m afraid of being alone. Like Mom. She also thought about some of the things Ms. DiPietro had said during her lecture before the exercise.
Our fears are always with us, whispering in our ears. Telling us we’re not smart enough, that no one likes us, that no matter the circumstances, we will never truly be good enough. They also tell us we’re physically in danger, of course. They warn about injury, illness, and death, but they speak of other dangers too. Being laughed at. Ignored. Disliked. Rejected. And no matter how hard you try to run from your fears, you can never escape them. They’re inside you. Part of you. And you take them with you wherever you go. That’s why I say you have to embrace your fears. You have to get to know them, truly understand them. You need to get to the root of a fear, the place where it all started. Only then will you be able to truly face it.
Even though Ms. DiPietro hadn’t looked at her directly while saying all this, Alex had nevertheless felt as if the woman had been speaking directly to her. She only wished she understood what it all meant.
By the time she reached home, she still hadn’t received a reply text from anyone, and she was actually hoping her stepmother was there. Renee was a Realtor, and while she worked odd hours, depending on when someone wanted to see a house, more often than not she was there when Alex and Steve got home from school. Alex wasn’t sure why. Maybe she thought she was doing the mother thing. Renee wasn’t an overly warm person—not when it came to kids, anyway—but she did make an effort, and Alex supposed that counted for something. But even though they weren’t close, it would be a relief to see her, to see anyone, and the moment she opened the front door and stepped inside she called out, “Hey, Renee! I’m home!”
She disliked the pleading, almost desperate edge to her voice, but she couldn’t help it.
No answer came.
“Hello?” she called out again. “Renee? Steve?” Her brother’s car was parked on the street outside, so it was possible he was here too. Although why he would’ve ditched her to walk home on his own, she couldn’t say.
Still no answer.
She felt a cold stab of panic. She shut the door, shrugged off her backpack, and ran into the living room, unable to stop herself. When she found no one there, she continued running through the house, checking the kitchen, the dining room, the bedrooms, even the basement. She saved the garage for last, afraid to look inside. What if Renee’s car was there, but she wasn’t here? What would that mean? She forced herself to look and was relieved to find the garage empty. Renee was out showing a house or maybe just running some errands, that was all. But then Alex remembered the nearly empty teacher’s lot at school, the missing buses, the light traffic on the way home, and she no longer felt so relieved. Maybe more than people were disappearing.
Alex closed the door to the garage and headed back into the kitchen, on the verge of full-fledged panic. Her mouth was so dry, and she wanted to get a bottle of water from the fridge. That’s when she noticed the note held to the refrigerator door by a pair of small magnets.
I have to work for a bit this afternoon. I’ll pick up something for dinner on the way home. Do your homework! —Renee.
Alex’s stepmother wasn’t the type of person to write the word “love” before signing her name. A smiley face was as far as she went. But right then that was okay with Alex. In fact, it was wonderful.
She checked her phone. Still nothing.
She returned to the front hall, grabbed her backpack, and headed down to her bedroom to get started on her homework. She passed Steve’s bedroom along the way. The door was closed, and on impulse she stopped and knocked. When there was no answer, she hesitated a moment and then grasped the doorknob. As she turned the knob and started to push the door open, she thought, wouldn’t it be strange if the room were entirely empty, as if Steve didn’t live here? As if he’d never existed.
She stopped, the door halfway open. Without looking, she turned her head and slowly closed the door.
• • •
Alex liked to lie on her bedroom floor—sometimes on her stomach, sometimes on her side—while she did homework. Today was a stomach day. But she’d managed to get only halfway through her math before putting her work aside. She’d been listening to music on her phone, and she turned it off and removed her earbuds. She still hadn’t gotten so much as a single text from her friends, so she’d decided to give them a call. Steve, too, maybe, although if he was out somewhere having fun with his friends, he’d probably ignore her call and let it go to voice mail.
She opened up her contacts list and stared at the screen in shock. It was empty. She checked her saved texts only to find there were none. Same for her e-mail archive. She used her phone’s Facebook app to access the site and discovered she had no friends there. She checked Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Tumblr, but it was the same everywhere. No saved messages or images, no contacts or friends.
“Something’s wrong with my phone,” she said aloud, more to break the silence than anything else. Or maybe all her accounts had been hacked somehow. It was possible, right? With a trembling hand she placed her phone on the carpet and left it there. She stared at it for a moment, unsure what, if anything, she should—or could—do next. And then she heard the sound of the garage door opening, and the relief that hit her was so strong, so overwhelming, that for an instant she couldn’t move. But then she was on her feet and running down the hall.
She was standing in front of the door to the garage when it opened and Renee walked in, carrying a plastic bag from a fast-food fried chicken restaurant. Alex was so happy to see her stepmother that she threw her arms around her neck and gave her a massive hug, almost knocking her down in the process.
Renee laughed in surprise and gently pushed Alex away with her free hand.
“What in the world did I do to deserve that?”
Renee was a petite woman, shorter than Alex by a couple inches. She had a round face and short, black hair that always looked perfect, even when she first got up in the morning. She wore a white blouse, black skirt, and black flats. She’d once told Alex that she’d rather wear prettier shoes, but given how much walking she did on her job, flats were a smarter choice.
“I’m just glad to see you,” Alex said. “Is that all right?”
Renee narrowed her eyes, as if she was suspicious—or more likely, just confused. But she said, “Of course it is.” Then she smiled. “It’s nice to be welcomed home like that.”
Alex eyed the plastic bag. She hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t very large.
She frowned. “Is there more chicken in the car? Do you want me to go get it?”
Now it was Renee’s turn to frown. “I don’t understand.”
Alex pointed at the bag. “It doesn’t look like there’s enough in there to feed all of us.”
Renee gave her a puzzled look. “All?”
Alex’s voice froze, and for a long moment she couldn’t say anything. When she was able to speak again, her words came out sounding like a desperate plea.
“You know . . . you, me, Dad, and Steve.”
Renee cocked her head slightly to the side.
“Who?”
• • •
Alex didn’t eat much, and after a while she asked Renee if she could be excused from the table.
“I don’t feel all that well, and I still have a lot of homework to finish.”
“Of course. What is it? Your head? Your stomach? Do you want some medicine?”
“No, I’ll be okay. I just want to get m
y work done and go to bed.”
Renee looked concerned, but she said, “Sure. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Alex nodded. She picked up the paper plate with the remains of the chicken leg she’d nibbled on, threw it in the trash, and then headed down the hall toward her room.
She didn’t bother finishing her homework. What was the point when there was a good chance none of her teachers would be there tomorrow to accept it?
She changed her clothes, turned off the light, and crawled into bed. She had her phone with her, but she didn’t check for texts, e-mails, or missed calls. She knew there would be none.
She had no idea if she was going crazy or if what seemed to be happening was real. And if it was real, was it happening everywhere? If she used her phone to access the Internet and check out a news site, would she see a headline about thousands, maybe millions of people mysteriously disappearing? If she looked up the number of people living on earth, what would it be? If she remembered right, it should be something like six or seven billion. What would it be right now? Three billion? One? Even less?
She decided against looking. Whatever she found, she knew she wouldn’t like it. Instead, she plugged her earbuds into her phone, put the sound receivers into her ears, and put on some music. At least she tried to. But instead of music, she heard whispering. She tore her earbuds from her ears, threw her phone across the room, and wept.
• • •
Alex remained awake long after her tears dried. She lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling—or rather, the darkness where the ceiling should have been. Her room was across the hall from Renee and her dad’s room. It was just Renee’s room now, she supposed. She listened to Renee getting ready for bed, and then, later, to her stepmother’s soft snoring. Renee refused to believe she snored, even though everyone in the family told her that she did. It wasn’t a big deal though. She didn’t snore that loud, and tonight Alex found the noise comforting.