Dorian's mother drives the three of us to their house.
I barely remember the ride back out of town, only that we go down Highway 54 and make a couple of turns down some dirt roads. Or getting out of the car, going through the door, and crashing on the couch. Tommy collapses on an air mattress that Dorian pumps up. Dorian's mother shuffles around in the kitchen for a few minutes, turns off the light, and goes right back out the door.
I fall into a pit of oblivion seconds later.
I'm too exhausted to dream. Too tired to care. Too wiped to move.
I’m so out that when I emerge from my hibernation, I have no idea where I am.
Sunlight pours in through the window, forming a square on the wall. Tommy snores on the floor, half-off an air mattress that’s deflating. He’s still wearing his shoes.
Dorian’s house. Of course.
I sit up and get my first real look at the inside of an Outbreaker house. It’s…clean. There are vacuum tracks near the TV. Tons of movies are pretty much sorted by genre in a glass cabinet. I read the spines. I can’t help but snort when I spot the Wizard of Oz.
Then I remember.
There’s nothing to laugh about right now.
I’m still a new Outbreaker, my uncle’s switched sides, and I have no idea how the old Outbreakers are going to stop that force from turning everyone in Evansburg.
God.
I get up and go find the bathroom, then come back to the living room. A mantel clock ticks over a fireplace that’s never been used. It’s almost noon. If Dorian’s still here, he’s crashed and out in his room.
I really, really wish I was back at Betsy’s Kitchen. The meeting might still be going on. That’s bad. Really bad. If the old Outbreakers can’t figure out what to do, then everyone in Evansburg—
There’s a yearbook on the mantel. It’s a cheap paper one sticking out from between a couple of high school hardcover ones. Dorian’s.
And the only letter visible on the cover is an M.
I do a check to make sure nobody’s watching me. Tommy lets out a snore. The clock keeps ticking away. I step over the corner of the crappy air mattress and pull out the yearbook.
Bingo.
Mobley Middle School. Mobley, Oklahoma. From three years ago.
I flip it open. Scribbles from Dorian’s old friends decorate the inside cover. He’s an awesome friend. Had a great year. Can’t wait to go hiking this summer. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess these were normal kids, not a whole school of old Outbreakers.
I do a quick flip of the pages. Photos stare out at me, of kids that look like anyone you’d see walking down the street. The pictures are all black and white, but I know what I’d see if they were in color. Brown eyes, all flecked with black spots.
Some of the pictures have seen an eraser. There’s a few on each page that Dorian’s taken almost off completely. A girl smiles out at me from a curtain of shiny white on one page. She’s so faded that I have to look close to tell it’s even a girl. And Dorian’s written one word in ink across each erased photo.
Released.
I read it again, making sure I’ve got it right. That’s not something I’d write over an enemy’s picture. Usually I draw huge witch noses or zits across Dianna’s face every year, but not the word released.
“Oh. You found that yearbook.”
I jump. Dorian’s standing there in the doorway to the living room. Thankfully, there’s no trace of anger on his face. He steps into the room, bare feet slapping against the floor. “You’ve got questions. I can tell. So, shoot.”
I glance at Tommy. He’s still asleep. I should probably wake him.
Dorian sits on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Sit down. This is like the first time in forever my parents have left me alone in the house. They can’t tell me to shut up about Mobley until they get back.” He looks at the clock. “Must be a long meeting they’re having.”
The face heat returns. I can’t sit that close to Dorian—can I? A big part of me wants to, but Tommy’s lying feet away. He drove me here. Got himself in major trouble with his parents. If he wakes up and sees me and Dorian sitting inches apart on the couch, or closer—
I can’t deal with this without Tommy.
He’s my best friend. Maybe more. The only thing I have left of my old life.
“Sure.” I take a seat but keep some distance between us. A foot of couch space will be enough to keep Tommy from deflating when he wakes up. I think. But god, why do I want to sit closer to Dorian so bad? “So, does the word ‘released’ have to do with what happened in Mobley?”
“Everything.” Dorian leans back and stares at the ceiling. “Mobley was supposed to be an all-Outbreaker town a few years ago. It was so we could have a place to go where we wouldn’t hurt people during our Outbreaks since, you know, it was out in the middle of nowhere. And I did mention how Outbreakers can’t hurt each other or wreck each other’s property, right?” I nod. “There was this mayor trying to bring it all together. My family moved there a year before it all went down the toilet.”
“So what pulled down on the flusher?” I ask.
“The mayor’s girlfriend. No, not Madeline. I can tell that’s what you’re thinking.” Dorian faces me. “I saw the mayor’s girlfriend. Some blond woman I forgot the name of. But anyway, she found some way to turn into a storm goddess.”
I sit up like someone’s tasered me. “A storm goddess? Oh, you’re not joking.”
Dorian shakes his head. He’s serious. “Yeah. A real storm goddess. I don’t know how she did it. Only a few people do. But the story is that she didn’t like that Outbreakers were walking around in human form. She thought the humans would discover us one day and kill us. So she wanted to ‘protect’ us.” Dorian flexes his fingers at protect. “Her great idea was to rip all the Outbreakers out of their bodies. When she touched them, their bodies vaporized and they flew up into the atmosphere. I didn’t see it happen, but my parents told me about it later. They didn’t see it either, for the record.”
I try to imagine some crazy woman clamping her hand down on someone’s shoulder and watching the victim fly away as particles. It reminds me of the open house. My own arm blasting away. “And then what?”
“The mayor evacuated the town. But some people didn’t get out in time.” He looks down at the yearbook I’m still holding.
It feels heavy in my grip, like each page has turned to a concrete slab. Dorian must have erased the unlucky ones. The ones that didn’t make it away from the goddess. I drop it onto my lap. “Oh, man, Dorian. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be.” He shrugs and leans back again, but the hurt weighs down on his shoulders. He can’t hide it all. “That goddess is gone now, by the way. Someone lured her down south into some weird underworld. That’s another story I don’t know most of. But all the Outbreakers that got released…they never came back, either.” He blinks a bunch of times and lifts his head. “Wait. Oh, man. Do you think—“
My mind jolts to life. “—that the Deathwind is those released Outbreakers? Or their energy or whatever?” I stand up, letting the yearbook fall to the floor. “How many did you guys lose? About a hundred and forty? I bet the number matches how many victims Madeline wants.”
Dorian stands up to join me. “That sounds about right, actually. Allie, I think we might be on to something.”
“I guessed the exact same thing when you were telling her about the goddess ripping the Outbreakers out of their bodies,” Tommy says from the floor.
I turn. He rolls over, the sleep gone from his eyes.
“Hey. Morning,” I say. Heat rises to my cheeks. Tommy’s looking at the space between me and Dorian. “How long have you been awake?”
“A little while.”
“That’s good. I guess we don’t have to explain what we just came up with. I’m glad we figure
d it all out together.”
Tommy sits up. “But,” he says with the lift of a finger, “we still have no clue how we’re going to stop the Deathwind. If it’s even what we think it is.”
“You got any ideas?” Dorian asks. He picks up his yearbook. With gentle care, I notice. He slips it back between his two high school ones on the mantel. “I sure don’t.”
The three of us stand in silence, facing each other. The clock keeps ticking.
The crunch of gravel announces the arrival of a car in the driveway.
And then another.
Dorian’s parents, plus someone else.
We stampede to the front window in the kitchen. A pair of cars, the blue one and a black SUV, roll up towards the house from the distant road.
“Who’s that?” I ask, pointing.
Dorian squints. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve seen that vehicle in town, but I can’t remember who owns it.”
They both park and Dorian’s parents march for the door. His mother’s face has taken on a sick color I can’t describe. She glances at us and away again. His father keeps his gaze on the field of corn. He’s rushing for the door.
Then, the doors to the SUV open and the volunteers of last night’s search party pour out. I recognize the guy who announced that Madeline had left. He wipes off his jeans and starts talking to Betsy. Neither of them look happy.
“They must be here to talk to me,” I supply. A nervous rumble sounds in my stomach. “I’m the only new Outbreaker here. Maybe they’re—“
The lock jiggles and Dorian’s parents hurry into the house. His father locks the door behind them and tests it.
“You’re all up. Good. Did you sleep OK?” his mother asks. Her voice is high. Tense. Ready to snap.
“What’s up?” Dorian asks in a get-to-the-point tone. “What did you decide?”
Dorian’s father stands in the doorway. “We debated all night about how to protect our neighbors. It was ugly. It took us hours and hours to reach a decision, and it’s one I don’t agree with. Not in the way that they want to make it happen, anyway.” He breathes out slow. “I couldn’t make them take it back, but I promise that your mother, your aunt and I will keep fighting it.”
Dorian’s mouth curls down into a frown. “Fight what? What are you talking about?”
His father swallows. “The other Outbreakers just voted to destroy Evansburg. And they want you and Allie to be the ones to do it.”
Chapter Sixteen