Yes, I'm updating this, finally. XD
Amy47101 does not own pokémon or The Summoning. All rights go to their respective owners.
o.0.o.0.o
The Summoning
o.0.o.0.o
In exchange for Hope the eevee, Jade took my backpack. It'd be a dead giveaway if I was caught carrying it and she reasoned, if I stashed it someplace, I might not get a chance to retrieve it.
We had the security code—Paul had written it out for us, together with instructions and hand-drawn maps, giving both to Jimmy. I could take that as proof that he hadn't planned to be here when we left, but I knew it was just Paul being Paul, leaving nothing to chance.
So why take off and risk Jimmy not going? My last memory of Paul flashed past-standing in his bedroom doorway, bathed in sweat, barely able to focus—and I knew what had happened.
If Jimmy saw him like that, he'd know how sick Paul was. If Jimmy knew, Jimmy would stay. No question. So Paul had done the only thing he could—holed up someplace, left the alarm on, and prayed Jimmy would go. A slim chance versus no chance.
So where was he? I headed to the basement first. The door was closed, light off, but he wouldn't leave any sign if he was hiding. The laundry room was empty. The door to the closet was locked.
Last night, when we'd gone on our walk, he'd gulped down the cold air. When we'd returned, his fever seemed gone and I'd chalked it up to the Tylenol kicking in, but maybe the cold air had been enough. If he was desperate for a quick fix, he'd go outside, in hopes of cooling down enough to see Jimmy off.
I stepped onto the back porch. The quarter moon had slid behind clouds and it was as dark as the upstairs hall. I could make out the glimmer of lights at a neighbor's, but the towering trees blocked all but that faint glow.
My gaze swept the black yard, seeing only the pale box that I knew was the shed. It was colder than the night before, and my breath hung in the air. The only sound was the creak of branches, as steady and monotonous as the ticking of the grandfather clock.
I took three tentative strides across the deck. By the time I climbed down the steps to the concrete pad, I could make out more pale shapes in the yard—the bench, a lawn chair, the garden angel, and a soccer-ball-sized blob near the shed.
An engine revved and I froze, but it was only a car passing. Another two slow steps. I glanced over my shoulder and considered dashing back in for a flashlight, but Onyx had grabbed the only one I knew about.
I peered around. My lips parted to whisper Paul's name, then closed. Would he answer? Or hide?
When I drew closer to the presumed ball, I saw it was a big white sneaker. Paul's. I scooped it up, looking about wildly now.
A blast of wind struck me, so cold it made my eyes water. I wrapped my arms around myself as Hope was alert on my shoulders. I whined as Hope suddenly hopped down, ears and nose twitching as she searched about, my only source of heat gone as the wind moaned through the trees. Then the wind died down… and the moaning continued, a long, low sound that made the back of my neck prickle.
I turned slowly. Hope whined, then bounced forward. The sound stopped. Then came a stifled cough, and as I wheeled toward it, I saw a white sock peeking from behind the shed.
I dashed over. Paul was there, deep in the shadows, on all fours, his head and upper body barely visible. Hope was licking his hand, as if trying to offer some comfort. My nose crinkled as the stink of sweat rolled off him. The breeze brought a sharp, bitter smell that made the back of my throat constrict, reflexively gagging.
His body tensed as he retched, a dry, ragged heave.
"Paul?" I whispered. He went rigid. "It's Dawn."
"Go away." The words were a guttural growl, barely intelligible. I stepped closer, dropping my voice another notch.
"Jimmy 's gone. So are the others. Marina and Jade and Onyx… I convinced him to go on ahead while I found you."
His back arched, arms stretched out, pale fingers digging into the soil. A low moan, cut short by a grunt. Hope whined, looking at me, wondering what to do.
"You found me. Now go." he grunted.
"Do you really think I'd leave you like this?" I took another step forward. The stink of vomit made me clap my hand to my nose. I switched to breathing through my mouth. "If you're throwing up, that's more than a fever. You need—"
"Go!" The word was a snarl and I staggered back.
His head dropped. Another moan, this one ending in a high- pitched sound, almost like a whimper. He wore a T-shirt, bare muscles bunching as he gripped the ground again. His arms darkened, as if a shadow passed over them, then reappeared, pale against the surrounding shadow. There was a gagging sound, then a splattering noise. My gut curdled as I realized he was throwing up again.
"Paul, I—"
His back arched, stretching so high I could see the rigid line of his spine, T- shirt pulled tight, muscles writhing and rippling. Then he sagged, his panting breaths as ragged as the rustling leaves.
"Please. Go." The words were a deep mumble, like he wasn't opening his mouth. Panic rose in my throat as I kneeled down next to him, placing a hand on his back, only to quickly retract. Arceus, he was practically on fire!
"You need help—"
"No!"
"Don't be stubborn, Paul, I'll get Marina! Shaman's can heal, right? She can heal you!"
"Go away!"
"Jimmy, then." I said, hating to pull that card, but seeing no other choice. "I'm getting Jimmy . I'll be right—"
"No!"
He twisted and I caught a glimpse of his face, contorted, misshapen… wrong. I stifled a gasp, barely recognizing him. I knew those changes. Like… in the basement…!
He whipped his head down before I could process what I'd seen.
He gagged again, the sound horrible and raw, like he was coughing up his insides. His back shot up again, limbs stretching to the very limits, bones crackling. His arms went dark, then lightened, the muscles and tendons rippling. The moon chose that moment to peek from the cloud and when his arms darkened, I could see it was hair sprouting, just enough to break the surface, then sliding back under his skin. And his hands… His fingers were long and twisted like talons, digging into the earth as his back arched.
"Guys like Paul have… physical enhancements, you might say." I recalled Jimmy telling me, way back when. "Extra strong, as you can see. Better senses, too... That kind of thing."
And with that, Jimmy didn't talk about it. I think he was just trying to not answer at all. Avoiding a reply he couldn't give.
Paul convulsed, his head flying back, jaw clenched, an awful moaning howl hissing through his teeth. Then his head whipped down and he gagged, strings of saliva dripping.
"P-Paul?"
He retched, his whole body racked with heaves. When they subsided, I inched forward. He tilted his head away.
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Sure." I glanced up to Topaz, floating a few inches above Paul's vomit, arms crossed and glare disapproving. "Run for your damn life!"
But to me, that was a small warning, not even serious, really, because there was no question of running. This wasn't a Darkrai, set on haunting my dreams. Even now, with hair sprouting on his arms, fingers twisted into claws, when he looked away and growled at me to leave, I knew that whatever was happening, he was still Paul.
"Is there anything I can do?"
A ridiculous question. What could I do? Run back to the house and get some Advil? Shove a potion down his throat and hope it works? Anyone but me could do something for him. Anyone but me. I could imagine the response he'd make any other time—the curl of his lip, the roll of his eyes.
But after one halfhearted "go away," he crouched there, head turned, body trembling, each breath a rasp ending in a quaver. I reached up, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly as it was all I could do. I had half a mind to bring out Mamoswine to cool him off, but that would be stupid. Mamoswine was huge, easily spotted.
But Piplup…
Bringing out his pokéball, I was about to press the button when Paul's hand wrapped around my wrist, his hands clammy, even the muscles in his hands shifting and squirming.
"Don't." His fingers on his other hand dug into the ground, arms stiffening, then relaxing. "Go."
"I can't leave you here." I shook my head. "If there's anything I can do…"
"Don't." A sharp intake of breath, then he expelled the words. "Don't... go."
His head lifted my way, just enough for me to see one onyx eye, wide with terror.
His arms and legs went rigid, then he dropped my wrist, his back shooting up as he heaved. Vomit sprayed the grass, a fresh wave with every spasm. The sickly smell filled the air. A tearing of cloth echoed through the air.
And I sat there, doing nothing, because there was nothing I could do. My brain raced through ideas, discarding each as fast as it came. I couldn't summon a pokémon, the flash might attract someone. I couldn't risk going on the house, and I had nothing to treat him with, even if I knew what was wrong. So I inched over and put my hand on his arm, feeling the coarse hair push through red-hot skin that writhed and pulsed. That was all I could do without attracting attention. Stay and tell him I was there.
Finally, with one last heave, one last spray of vomit dappling the fence three feet away, it stopped. Just stopped.
The muscles under my hand went still, the coarse hair receded. Slowly, he relaxed, his back dropping, hands releasing their grip on the earth. He crouched there, panting, hair hanging around his face.
Then he slumped onto his side, hands up, resting on his head, arms over his face, fingers still long, misshapen, the nails thick, like claws. He curled up on his side, knees drawn in, and moaned.
"Should I—? Jimmy. Should I get Jimmy ? Will he know what to—? No, no, Marina! She's a shaman, right? She… should be able to heal you… at least a little..."
"No." The word was hoarse, guttural, as if his vocal cords weren't quite human.
"It's over," he said after a minute. "I think. Pretty sure." He rubbed his face, still shielded behind his hands. The next words came out in a murmur, confused. "This shouldn't have happened. Not yet. Not for years."
In other words, he knew perfectly well what he was, he just hadn't expected the… transformation until he was older. I felt a spark of anger that he'd misled me, made Jimmy lie to me, but I couldn't sustain it, not after what I'd seen, not sitting there, watching him, shirt soaked with sweat as he struggled to breathe, his body shaking with exhaustion and pain.
"Go," he whispered, stretching his legs out, but refusing to move his arms from his face. "I'll be fine now."
"I'm not—"
"Dawn " he snapped, the old Paul back in his voice. "Go. Help Jimmy. Tell him I'm fine."
"No."
"Dawn..." He drew my name out in a low growl.
"Five minutes." I held up my hand, all five fingers up to punctuate my point. "I want to make sure you're okay."
He grunted, but settled into silence, relaxing onto the grass.
"See, you did rip out of your clothes," I said, trying to keep my tone light. "Hope you didn't like that shirt, 'cause it's toast."
It was a weak joke, but he said, "Least I didn't turn green."
"No, just..." I was going to say "hairy," but I couldn't get the word out, couldn't wrap my head around what I'd seen.
The back door banged. Paul shot up, his hands falling from his face. His nose looked crushed, wide and flat, cheekbones jutting as if rising to meet it. Fangs spilled over his lip, and a set of ears were on top his head. Even his hair seemed a shade darker, not the usual plum that was normal, but now a darker violet.
I tore my gaze away and crawled toward the corner of the shed. He caught my leg.
"I'll be careful," I whispered. "I'm just getting a look."
I slid on my belly, creeping to the corner and peeking around it. A flashlight beam swept the yard.
"A woman," I whispered, as low as I could. "I think it's…" I was about to say Jade or Marina, since she was about the same height, but then I realized that the woman was to busty to be Jade but not busty enough to be Marina. "No, too skinny. Ms. Abdo, maybe?"
He tugged my ankle. My jeans had hiked up, and his hand was wrapped around bare skin above my sock. I could feel his palm, rough, like the pads on a dog's feet.
"Go," he whispered. "I'll boost you over the fence. Climb the next one and—"
The flashlight beam cut a swath across the back of the yard.
"Who's out there?" The voice was high and sharp, with a faint hint of bitterness.
"Van Turd," I whispered to Paul . "What's she—?"
"Never mind. Go!"
"I know someone's out here," she said. "I heard you."
I glanced at Paul , his face still deformed. Dr. Gill couldn't find him like this.
I grabbed the shoe of his that I'd dropped, and kicked off one of my own, and that confused him enough for me to wrench from his grasp and dart to the side fence, squeezing between it and the shed. At the last second, he scrambled up and lunged at me, but I was wedged in too far to reach, and he couldn't follow.
"Dawn!" her voice was shrill. "Get back here! Don't you dare—"
I kept going.
I squeezed through the gap between the fence and shed, with Paul 's shoe clutched in one hand, while the other tugged at my belt and pants buckle. I mussed upmy hair. When I reached the end of the shed, I peeked out. Van Turd had her back to me, her flashlight scanning the other side of the yard.
I darted behind the shrubs and continued along the fence until I reached the porch. Then I crouched in the bushes there, daubed dirt on my cheek, and stumbled out, twigs crackling.
"Mrs. Van Curd." I fumbled to redo my belt. "I—I was just out g- getting some air."
I hopped on one foot, trying to put on Paul 's shoe.
"I don't think that's yours, Dawn ," she said as she approached, flashlight in my eyes.
I shielded my face from the light and lifted the shoe, squinting at it. Then I let out a nervous laugh. "Whoops. Guess I grabbed the wrong one when I came outside."
"Where is he?"
"Who?" I squeaked.
She pointed at the shoe. "Paul."
"Paul? Is this his?" I cast a surreptitious glance over my shoulder, into the bushes, drawing her attention there. "I—I haven't seen Paul since dinner. Is h-he out here, too?"
"Oh, I'm sure he is. Long gone, I suppose, with everyone else. Making their escape while you stand guard and provide a diversion."
"Wh-what?" That time the stammer wasn't faked. "E-Escape? N-No. Paul and I were..." I gestured at the bushes. "He knew the code so we came outside to be alone and… you know."
She stepped closer, beam right in my eyes.
"Pick up where you left off Friday afternoon?"
"Right." I tugged down my shirt and tried to look embarrassed.
"Do you really think I'm going to buy that, Dawn? Girls like you wouldn't give boys like Paul Shinji the time of day, much less roll around in bushes and crawl spaces with them."
My head shot up. Suddenly very angry. What, she was my therapist for a few weeks and she suddenly thinks she knows who I will and will not be with? Sure, I won't go rolling in the bushes on the second date, but who says I'm not attracted to guys like Paul? And what was she implying when she said "guys like Paul"? Did she think he was incapable of finding an attractive female"
"But you caught us. Friday. Dr. Pluto was the one who said—"
"I know what was said, Dawn. And I know what you were really doing in that crawl space." a smirk crawled to her lips. "I found your new friends."
I stood, feet rooted, unable to believe what I was hearing. She… knew about… the people in the crawl space? And did that mean she knew… about us and what we really were?
"What did they tell you?" Her fingers went around my arm. "They were his, weren't they? Samuel Lyle's subjects." She leaned toward me, eyes glittering, as feverish as Paul 's but with a glimmer of madness behind them. "Did they tell you his secrets? His discoveries? I'll make sure no one knows you ran away. I'll say I found you asleep in the TV room. Just tell me everything those ghosts said."
"I—I can't talk to ghosts."
I tried to pull away, but her fingers clamped down tighter. I went limp, as if giving in, then threw myself in the other direction. Her hand fell from my arm, but I'd pulled too hard and stumbled, off balance. She plunged toward me. I dove, hitting the ground. As I clambered out of her way, a dark shape vaulted over the deck railing.
Van Turd only had time to see a shadow passing over her. She turned, mouth opening. Paul landed right in front of her. Her arms flew up, and she let out a shriek, falling back, but she was still in mid-turn and tripped over her own feet. As she went down, she fumbled for something in her pocket. Paul dove and pinned her arm as she pulled out a two-way radio. It flew onto the grass. Her skull smacked into the cement pad.
I ran forward. Paul was already crouching at her side, checking her pulse.
"She's fine," he said, exhaling with relief. His tail, same dark purple as his ears, flicked behind him. All I could comprehend was the fact he had a tail, peeking out from under his torn shirt. "Just unconscious. Come on. Before she wakes up."
His fingers closed around my arm. Dirty, but very human fingers, his face and hands back to normal, even his hair seemed to be gaining it's original coloring. The little ears on his head, still prominent tail, and ripped and sweaty shirt the only sign of his ordeal. I brushed him off, jogged over to his shoe and picked it up, then turned to see him holding the sneaker I'd discarded.
"Trade?"
We pulled our shoes on.
"The others are waiting at the edge of Jubilife," I said. "We have to warn them. They know about the escape."
He pushed me toward the side fence.
"The road won't be safe. Cut through the yards."
I glanced over my shoulder.
"I'm right behind you," he said. "Now go!"
o.0.o.0.o
At the first fence, I started climbing, but I was too slow for Paul , who grabbed me and swung me over, then vaulted like it was a hurdle. Two doors down, the wail of a siren sent us diving behind a child's playhouse.
"Police?" I whispered. Paul's ears twitched. He grunted, shaking his head.
"Can't tell."
After a moment, I spoke.
"Van Turd knows about the bodies. When I raised them, she must not have been holed up in her office like we thought. She knows I can contact the dead, and about Samuel Lyle, and—"
"Later."
He was right. I squeezed the thought from my head and concentrated on the siren. It whipped past, heading back the way we came, then disappeared.
"Did it stop at the house?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"I can still hear it. Now go."
According to Paul, there were seven backyards between Lyle House and the end of the block. Trust him to have counted. We were racing through the fifth when his hand shot out like a railway guard and I plowed into it. When I turned, he had his head cocked, listening. Ten seconds passed. I plucked at his shirt, but he ignored me for another ten. Then he lowered his head.
"I hear a car idling." he whispered. "Someone's out there."
I squinted through the darkness, hoping to see what he could hear.
"Where?"
An impatient wave.
"There. On the street we need to cross." He held up a finger. "Footsteps. Someone's talking. A woman. She's whispering. I can't make it out."
"Do you recognize the voice?"
He shook his head.
"Stay here. I'll get closer, see if that helps."
He loped closer to the house, stopping behind a cluster of bushes. I looked around. I was standing in the middle of the yard, exposed to anyone who heard a noise and glanced out the window. His spot looked a whole lot safer. When I approached, he whirled, pinning me with a glare.
"Sorry," I whispered, and moved slower, quieter.
He waved me back. When I didn't stop, he glared again, then turned away. I crept up behind him and went still. His head moved slowly, tracking the voices, I presumed. But when his head swiveled my way, I noticed the lift of his chin, the flare of his nostrils, and realized he was sniffing the air.
When he noticed me watching, I got a full-blown scowl.
"Can you recognize the, uh… ?"
"Scents." He spat the word. "Yes, I can track scents. Like a pokémon."
"I didn't mean—"
"Whatever." he averted his gaze. "I suppose you figured out what I am." He avoided my gaze, scanning the fence line.
"A were… something. Shifter, as Jimmy put it?"
I tried to say it casually, but I wasn't sure I succeeded. I didn't want to sound freaked out because that was exactly what he expected—why he hadn't told me the truth. I told myself it was no different than being a necromancer or a sorcerer or a gijinka. But it was.
As the silence stretched, I knew I should say something. If he'd told me he was a gijinka or a pokésoul or something, I'd be peppering him with questions, and when I didn't now, my silence deemed him as something different than us, something less natural, something… worse.
"So what… happened back there? You were, uh…"
"Changing." He stepped to the right, leaning out for a better listen, then pulled back. "It's not supposed to start until I'm at least twenty-one. That's what Dad thought. Last night, the itching, the fever, the muscle spasms—that must have been a warning. I should have figured it out."
His head tilted as a breeze fluttered past. The tail was gone, most likely retracted while we were running. His ears, though tiny now, were still prominent. He took a deep breath, then shook his head.
"No one I recognize." He pointed to the back of the yard. "We'll climb the back fence, go through that way, and loop around. Hopefully, they'll have driven off by then."
We dashed over the rear fence, and through the next yard to the drive. Paul scanned the street, looking and listening and, I guess, sniffing, then waved me across the street. We slipped into the first yard and continued heading east, cutting through yards.
When we reached the road, I saw the car he'd been talking about. It was a silver SUV, a block down. The headlights were off, but someone stood at the driver's window, leaning in, as if talking.
"We'll have to make a run for it," Paul said. "Hope they don't notice us."
"You think they're looking for us?"
"No, but—"
"Then if we run, it'll look suspicious."
"It's three-thirty in the morning. We're going to look suspicious anyway." He looked at the car for a moment. "Fine. But any sign of trouble? Follow my lead."
"Yes, sir.", I saluted.
We climbed the fence under a weeping willow, letting its branches and shadows hide us. Then Paul positioned me on his left, away from the car. From this distance, they'd only see what looked like a grown man and maybe a woman beside him.
"We're going to walk and talk, okay? Normal couple, late night walk. Not hiding anything."
I nodded, and his hand closed around mine. We moved quickly to the sidewalk, then slowed as we cut to the curb.
"Okay, talk," he murmured.
"So when you… change…"
A short laugh, this obviously not being what he'd had in mind. But I was keeping my voice low, and if I couldn't hear them talking, they wouldn't hear more than the murmur of my voice.
"You change into ..." I struggled to think of the right word for the image that came to mind—a movie monster, half human, half beast. The kinds kids are afraid of running into in the dark.
"A mightyena." He steered us to the left, away from the car.
"Mightyena?"
"You know. Large wild canine pokémon. Commonly seen in Hoenn."
"You change into… ? But that's not—" I stopped myself.
"Physically possible?" Another short laugh. "Yeah, my body was screaming the same thing. No idea how it works. I guess I'll find out later. Much later, if I'm lucky. We're heading for the street to the left. Forests surround the city, then it leads into factories. The city edge is just up—"
He stopped short, turning sharply at the same moment that the headlights from the idling car flicked on. His hand tightened around mine and he broke into a run, dragging me along.
"They spotted us," he said.
"But they aren't looking for us."
"Yes, they are."
He yanked my arm, propelling me toward the next yard. As we neared the fence, he grabbed me around the waist and threw me over. I hit the ground on all fours, leaped up, and ran for the nearest cover—a metal shed.
Paul dove in behind me and, for a moment, I just stood there, leaning my blazing cheek against the cool metal, gulping the icy air. Then I straightened.
"How—?"
"I heard them say 'It's them' and 'Call Saturn.' "
"S-Saturn? Isn't that Dr. Pluto's name?"
"Yeah, and something tells me it's not common enough to be a coincidence."
"But how—"
He clamped his hand over my mouth and I tasted dirt. He leaned down to my ear.
"They're circling the block. I hear voices. They must have the windows down, listening for us."
But who were they? Where had they come from? Everyone else hadn't been gone more than forty minutes. How had they gotten here so fast?
"Someone snitched," I whispered.
"What?"
"Someone was working against us. Joined the group to find out about our escape. Why would Jade rely on us? Or… Or why would Onyx take orders from you?"
Paul went quiet for a moment while I was shivering in fear but seething with rage. Who could have done this? Who would betray us so?
"Doesn't matter now. They're heading down that road," Paul said, pointing. "Come on."
He prodded me in the opposite direction.
"There's a factory on the outskirts. We just need to make it that far. Run on the grass—it's quieter."
We raced along the strip between the sidewalk and the road, our shoes slapping the driveway pavement, then silent on the grass between. We were three houses from the end, the factory looming, when Paul let out a curse. Within three strides, I knew why: there was an eight- foot- high chain- link fence around the factory parking lot, and the gate was padlocked.
"Up," he said.
I grabbed the links and started to climb. He tried to boost me, but I waved for him to forget that and follow. I was almost to the top when the side of the factory lit up in two circles of light. I glanced over my shoulder. The SUV's engine roared as it accelerated.
"Go, go, go!" Paul whispered.
The car slammed to a halt, brakes squealing. I flipped over the top and started scrambling down. Beside me, Paul crouched on the fence top, then jumped. He landed square on his feet and wheeled as the car door was flung open.
"Jump! I've got you."
I was already halfway down, but I let go. He caught me and spun me around onto my feet with a push toward the factory.
"Paul! Dawn!"
It was a woman's voice. I kept running, but had to glance back, hearing my name. A red-haired woman gripped the links. A stranger. Yet… she sounded like… Mrs. Talbot? A man hurried around the front of the car. He carried a long, dark object, and as he lifted it, my heart stuttered.
"Gun!" I shouted, still running. Paul glanced over at me, eyes wide.
"They have a—"
He tackled me just as something whooshed past. A ball of brown and cream fur flashed in front of us, then fell. Before I could register what happened, we slid into a pile of wooden pallets. They clattered down around us, bouncing hard off my back and shoulders. I scrambled up, looking at the brown ball.
"Hope!" I exclaimed, nearly forgetting about her, then darting out to pick up the Eevee. Paul dove for me, scooped me up, then behind the next stack. A moment passed, then we ran, hunched over, until we reached the factory wall. We raced along the north side and ducked into a delivery dock bay. Paul pulled me behind a rusted metal bin.
"Th-they sh-shot at us," I whispered, barely able to get the words out as I looked at the fallen pokémon. "No. I m-must have—A radio maybe. Or a cell phone. I made a mistake. H-Hope… fell… and hit her head..."
"You didn't." He twisted, reaching to Hope's side.
"B-But they sh-shot at us. They tried to kill us. Th-that doesn't make any sense. W-We aren't that dangerous!"
"You're not." Paul muttered. He plucked something from Hope's fur. A long narrow metal tube with a pointed end. "Hope'll be fine, this was meant for pokémon. They were aiming at me. You're small, easy to subdue. It'd take a lot to knock me out."
"Knock you out?" I stared at it. "It's a tranquilizer dart?"
"I think so. Never seen one outside a nature show."
But we weren't pokémon. People didn't hunt kids with tranquilizer guns.
"I d-don't understand."
"Neither do I. Point is, they want us back. Bad. All the more reason to keep going." He dropped the dart and moved past me to the edge of the bin and inhaled, making no effort to hide it now. "Jade's here. She's not close, but she's been past recently."
"You can find her? Is she with the others?"
"Yeah. I can find her, but… she's alone. Dammit, where's Jimmy?" worry laced his voice for only a moment before he shook his head.
"No need to worry, Paul." I said, reaching out a comforting hand. His ears were completely gone now, like the transformation never happened. Paul shook his head.
"You're right. We don't have to worry, they're tough kids. Right now, though, I'm going to trust Jimmy can look after himself and worry about us. They'll lie low until they sees you, and he's probably with Marina. We should find a place to do the same until they move on."
He strode to the delivery doors, but they were locked and solid, the handles on the inside. I crept along the bin and scanned the factory yard.
"It looks like a warehouse back there. You mentioned something about that Friday? That it'd make a good place to hide?"
He glanced over my shoulder.
"That one's too near the factory to be abandoned." He studied it. "But it'll do for now. I should be able to break in."
He surveyed the yard, then he hustled me along the dark wall, and we dashed across to the warehouse. A sharp wrench on the door and we were inside.
Paul was right: it wasn't abandoned. It was packed with rolls of steel, giving us lots of hiding places. I had to move slowly, feeling my way and following in Paul 's tracks, testing each footstep for noise. When we'd gone about twenty paces, he found a crevice and wedged us inside. We barely got in when a voice outside boomed.
"Paul? I know you're here. It's Dr. Pluto."
I glanced at Paul , but he had his head turned toward the voice.
"Paul? I know you don't want to do this. You want to get better. You can't do that by running away."
The voice was moving, as the doctor walked through the factory yard. Paul cocked his head, listening.
"Four—no, five sets of footsteps. All separate. Searching." Paul whispered.
Hoping we'd give ourselves away.
"Paul? You know you shouldn't be out here. It's not safe. We've talked about this, remember? You don't want to hurt anyone. I know that, and you know you need our help to get better."
I looked up. Paul 's jaw worked, his gaze distant.
"I could go," he whispered. "Create a distraction so you can escape. Jade's around. You just need to find—"
"You're going back? After they shot at you?"
"Just tranquilizers."
"Just? Just?" My voice rose and I fought to keep it down. "They're hunting us, Paul . Miss Van Curd knows what I am."
"She knew. That doesn't mean they do."
"Are you sure? That woman at the chain link fence… Sounded like Mrs. Talbot. How can you know?"
He hesitated, his gaze lifting toward the voice.
"Paul?" Dr. Pluto continued. "Please. I want to make this easy for you, but you need to make it easy for us. Come out now and we'll talk. That's it. Just talk.
"How can we trust Jade? Someone betrayed us." I continued to whisper. "You know it wasn't Jimmy and you know it wasn't me." I gripped his wrist. "Don't go back. You're the only one I can trust right now and I don't want to be alone."
"No disciplinary action will be taken and we won't transfer you." Dr. Pluto's voice sounded farther, as if he was walking in the back corner of the warehouse.
Paul shifted against me. Considering.
"You can't—" I began.
"But if you don't come out, Paul , we will find you, and you will be transferred," a pause. "To a juvenile detention center for kidnapping Dawn."
"Kid—" I squawked.
He clapped his hand over my mouth until I motioned I'd be quiet.
"You already have a documented history of inappropriate behavior toward her. When the police see that, and hear our corroborating statements, you will be in a lot of trouble, Paul, and I know you don't want that. Even if she defends you, it won't matter to the police. You're a eighteen-year-old man running away with a fifteen-year-old girl." He paused. "You do realize she's only fifteen, don't you, Paul?"
I shook my head vehemently.
"He's lying. I turned sixteen before I came here."
"I know." Paul grumbled. "My birthday's in December. I'm still seventeen."
"To the police, it will be a clear case of kidnapping and interference, possibly even sexual assault. And you will be charged as an adult."
"Sexual—!" I squeaked.
Paul 's glare shut me up as effectively as his hand had.
"It's your choice, Paul. Make this hard, and you'll only hurt yourself."
Paul snorted and with that, Dr. Pluto lost him. Prey on Paul 's fears of hurting others, and he might be convinced to surrender. But threaten Paul himself? Like Jimmy said, it was a whole different matter.
"Stay here," he whispered. "I'm going to find a way out."
I wanted to argue, insist on helping, but I didn't have his night vision. If I started stumbling around looking for an exit, I'd bring Dr. Pluto and the others running.
So I stayed put.
After a few minutes, Paul returned and wordlessly led me to the back wall, where a window had been broken. It must have been boarded over, but the board was now resting on the floor.
"Hold on."
He swept the broken glass from the lower sill, then laced his fingers into a step for me.
As I crawled through, trying not to cut Hope on the glass. Finally, Paul took Hope, laid her down next to him, then tried again. My sleeve snagged on a leftover shard.
A nearby door banged.
"Dawn? Paul? I know you're in here. The door was broken."
I yanked my sleeve free, feeling a sharp sting. The shard tinkled to the pavement below as I scrambled through. I tumbled to the ground, then recovered. Paul practically tossed Hope to me and I caught her, then broke into a run, aiming for the nearest cover—a tarp over a lumber pile. I dropped and crawled under it, Paul shoving me in farther. I found a spot where the tarp tented and stretched out on my stomach. The moment I caught my breath, my upper arm started to throb, telling me the glass had done more than scrape my skin.
"You're hurt," Paul whispered as if reading my mind.
"Just a scratch."
"No, it's not."
He grabbed my arm and pulled it straight. A stab of pain. I stifled a gasp. It was too dark to see, but the sleeve felt wet against my skin. Blood. He'd smelled it.
He gingerly rolled up my sleeve and swore.
"Bad?" I whispered.
"Deep. Gotta stop the bleeding. We need a bandage."
He released my arm. A flash of white, and I realized he was pulling off his T- shirt.
"Hold on," I said. "That's all you've got. I'm layered up."
He turned his head away. I stripped off all three shirts, gritting my teeth as the fabric brushed my wound. I reminded myself that I'd barely felt it before he told me it was bad.
I put the top two shirts back on and handed him my tee. He ripped it, the sound echoing. I must have looked alarmed, because he spoke.
"No one's around. I can hear them searching the warehouse."
He wound the strips around my arm. Then his head lifted, tracking something, and I caught the faint sound of a voice calling, then an answer.
"They're all in the warehouse now," he whispered. "Time to move. I'll try picking up Jimmy's scent. Follow my lead."
Paul zigged and zagged through the obstacle course of debris, never slowing. Luckily, I was behind him, where he couldn't see how many times I rapped my knees or elbows swerving past some obstacle.
Finally, he slowed.
"I can't find Jimmy, but I found Onyx." he whispered, and jabbed a finger at the south side of the factory. We steered that way. When we neared the corner, a figure leaned from a recessed doorway, then retreated fast. Onyx. A moment later, Marina stepped out and waved wildly before being yanked back, presumably by Onyx.
We raced over and found them in a deep narrow alcove that reeked of cigarette smoke and looked like a main entrance.
"What are you doing here?" Marina whispered, staring at Paul in surprise. "You're supposed to be—"
"Change of plans."
"Good to see you," Onyx said, slapping Paul's back. "I was worried Dawn'd never find us. There's a whole bunch of people looking for us."
"Where's Jimmy." Paul demanded. Onyx's gaze flicked away, then he lowered his head.
"Jade darted out to be a distraction." Marina said, holding up her bag. "She looked ready to fight. But we didn't expect…" she trailed off, her voice ending in a terrified whisper.
"They shot at us." Onyx murmured. "Jade got hit… All I saw was her falling and we scattered." he clenched his fists as I covered my mouth with my hands. "You don't know… how badly I wanted to go out there and help her, but Jimmy told me that it would've been… useless to waste the chance to run." he chuckled weakly. "And Jade would hate me if I got myself nabbed because of her."
"We don't know where Jimmy is." Marina said quietly. I swallowed. At least… that crossed Jade off the betrayal list. Jade knew what was best for herself, and she wouldn't get herself shot for show but she would get herself shot for Onyx. I knew it in my heart that she would.
"You okay?" I asked. Onyx shrugged.
"Tranq guns," Paul said. Onyx glanced at him. "They shot at us too. Got the Eevee though." he jabbed a thumb in my direction, Hope still in my arms. Onyx widened his eyes.
"Jade's not dead." he whispered.
"But not in an ideal place either." Paul continued. "I think they know what we really are, and as far as I'm concerned, there's no place safe for her, especially in the vicinity of those people.
"Then we need to go after her!" Onyx exclaimed, trying to dart around Paul. Paul blocked him.
"Not now. To many people." Paul ordered.
"But-"
"He's right." I murmured. "As much as I hate to say it, we can't go back. You said it yourself, Onyx, Jade would flip if we wasted this chance."
"Who've you seen?" Marina asked as Onyx stewed.
"Charon, Pluto, and, I think, Talbot, but I'm not sure. No sign of Van Turd."
"She's back at the house," I said. "But there are two more we didn't recognize. A man and a woman." I looked at Paul. "Undercover cops, you think?"
"No idea. We'll worry about that later. Right now, we're sitting ducks. We need to get out of here."
As Paul moved to look out, Marina leaned down to my ear.
"W-We will find Jimmy, right?"
"Later," Paul said. "There's another warehouse farther back, with broken windows. It's probably abandoned. If we can get to that—"
"Dawn?" Marina said, grabbing my arm. "What's all over your sleeve? It looks like…" She touched the fabric. "Oh, my Arceus. You're bleeding. You're really bleeding."
Onyx ducked around to my other side.
"It's soaked. What—?"
"Just a cut," I said.
"It's deep," Paul said. "She needs stitches."
"I don't—"
"She needs stitches," he repeated. "I'll figure something out. For now—"
"She won't." Marina said, determined.
"What do you-?" Paul began before he cut himself off as Marina closed her eyes, still holding my wrist. I stared as a silvery-blue glow encased her palms. An odd, warm feeling travelled through my arms, as if circling around the cut. A few moments later, she opened her eyes. I slowly looked at the makeshift bandage, then undid it.
The cut was gone.
"This is so cool!" Marina squealed, obviously impressed. Paul suddenly swore and jumped back from the opening.
"They're coming." He looked around, scowling. "This is the lousiest hiding place…"
"I know," Onyx said. "I wanted to find a better one, but..." A pointed look was shot at Marina. "She started freaking out about Jimmy and Jade and I had to calm her down. Damn near had a panic attack."
Marina looked nervous about moving, backing up against the wall.
"What's wrong with here?" she asked. "It's completely dark. They… They won't see me."
"Until they shine a flashlight on you." Paul stated bluntly. Marina swallowed, obviously not thinking of that.
"Oh."
Paul strode to the door, grabbed the handle, and gave it a test pull. Then he braced his feet, took the handle in both hands, and heaved until the tendons in his neck bulged. The door quivered, then flew open with a crack as loud as a gunshot. He frantically waved us inside.
"Find cover!" he whispered as I hurried past. We raced through into a wide hall flanked with doors, some open, some closed. Marina headed for the first. Paul shoved her past.
"Keep going!" he whispered. He loped by her and led us to a second hall. Then, he motioned for silence as he listened, but even without super senses, I heard the whoosh of the door and the clamor of footsteps.
"It's open!" a man yelled. "They came through here."
"We've got to get out," Paul whispered. "Split up. Find an exit. Any exit. Then whistle, but softly. I'll hear you."
Around the next corner, we split up to search for an exit. The first door I tried opened into a long, narrow room filled with worktables. No sign of a way out.
Back in the hall, I could hear voices, but distant, searching the rooms nearest the entrance, presuming we'd ducked into the first one we saw. Hurrying toward the next door, I spotted a figure in the room across the hall. I stopped short, but too late. I was already standing in plain sight.
As I pulled my heart from my throat, I realized the man had his back to me. Dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, he was the same size as the man with the gun, and had the same dark hair. I didn't remember the plaid shirt, but he'd been wearing a jacket. He stood on a raised platform, gripping the railing, looking down at a big industrial saw. He seemed intent on whatever had caught his attention.
I took one careful step forward. When the man shifted, I froze, but he only seemed to be readjusting his grip on the railing. I lifted my foot. The man did the same—stepping onto the lower bar of the barrier. He climbed onto the railing and crouched there, hands gripping the bar. Something moved below him and my gaze shot to the saw. The blades were turning—spinning so fast that the glint of a distant emergency light bounced off like a strobe. But there was no sound, not even the motor's hum.
The man tested his grip on the railing. Then, suddenly, he pitched forward. I saw him hit the blades, saw the first spray of blood, and I fell back against the wall, my hand flying to cover my mouth but not before the first note of a shriek escaped.
Something—some part of him—flew from the saw, landing in the doorway with a splat. I ripped my gaze away before I could see what it was, staggering back as running footsteps sounded behind me.
Arms grabbed me. I heard Onyx's voice at my ear.
"Dawn?"
"Th-there was a man. He—" I balled my hands into fists, pushing the image back. I knew this. I don't know how, but I knew this feeling. It was a ghost. A ghosts death just replayed before me. But still…! "A ghost. A man. He j-jumped onto a saw."
Onyx didn't say anything, but wrapped me in a brotherly hug, oddly warm, trying to offer what comfort he could. It wasn't at all weird, Onyx was known for throwing his arms around people as a greeting, whether wanted or not. I think I was having a panic attack or something, because I seriously could not get the image out of my head. I lingered, catching my breath.
Paul wheeled around the corner.
"What happened?"
"A ghost," I said, pulling away from Onyx. "I'm sorry."
"No worries, my good friend!" Onyx grinned cheekily. "Wasn't makin' a move on your lady or whatever."
"Not the time, you moron!" Paul hissed. Onyx stiffened.
"Someone heard." Onyx said, standing up. "We gotta go."
As I was turning, I saw the ghost again, standing on the platform. Paul followed my gaze. The ghost stood in exactly the same position, gripping the railing. Then he stepped up.
"It's r-repeating. Like a song on repeat." I shook it off. "Never mind. We—"
"Have to go," Paul said, pushing me. "Move!"
As we started down the hall, a female shriek cleft the air, then a gunshot.
All was quiet.
"Crap…" Paul hissed as my stomach sunk.
"That sounded like Marina…" Onyx murmured. I now knew Marina wasn't on the betrayal list. That shriek was to terrified, to fearful for her life.
I hope that she would at least astral project to confirm she was alright.
We veered into the next hall to see a door marked EXIT. I slammed into the wall, going to fast to come to a full stop, reaching for the handle.
"Don't!" Paul strode past me and cracked the door open, listening and sniffing before pushing it wide. "See that warehouse?"
"The one, like, a mile back there?" Onyx asked.
"Quarter mile, tops. Now go. We're right behind—" His head whipped up, tracking a sound. "They're coming. They must have heard us. You guys go. I'll distract them, then follow."
"No way." I said. "You've got family to find. Onyx, take Paul and run."
"Not happening." Paul argued. Onyx chuckled, shaking his head, then tapped his knee again. His ears sprung out, tail poofing up behind him.
"You want distractions?" He whispered, holding up his hand, flames dancing on his open palm. "I'm your guy." He turned, releasing a Zoroark that immediately transformed into a Jimmy lookalike, minus the devious smirk. Paul himself released a pokémon, an Electivire appearing before us. "You go. We'll catch up."
I wanted to argue but, again, there was nothing I could offer. My powers had already proved more hindrance than help and I wasn't strong enough to battle.
As I turned to go, Paul shouldered past Onyx.
"Get in the warehouse and don't leave. For one hour, don't even peek out. If we don't come, find a place to hole up. We'll be back."
"Count on it." Onyx grinned.
"Don't stay in the warehouse if it's dangerous, but that'll be our rendezvous point." Paul continued. "Keep checking in. If you can't stay, find a way to leave a note. We will meet you there. Got it?"
I nodded.
"They must be back here," someone called. "Search every room."
Paul shoved me through the doorway. Onyx chuckled again, grinning.
"Show time, Paulio."
"Don't call me that." Paul hissed.
I started to run, alone.
o.0.o.0.o
I waited in the warehouse for one hour and forty minutes, Hope occasionally twitching. I ran my hands through her fur, hoping that the action would stimulate her senses and maybe wake her up sooner.
"They caught them," I whispered to myself, curled in the fetal position in the far corner.
"Maybe not. Maybe they saw their chance to get away and they took it." I blinked, and saw Zoey, chimchar socks and all.
"Z-Zoey?" I murmured.
"In the flesh!" she laughed. I swallowed. Somehow… I didn't think so. "But man, Dawn… You choose some weird places to hang out."
A protest rose to my lips, but I swallowed it. She was right. If they had the opportunity to escape and no easy way of alerting us, I'd want them to take it. I lifted my numb rear off the ice-cold cement.
"I'll wait here a bit longer, then we'll go. If they got away, they'll hook up with us later."
Zoey shook her head.
"I wouldn't count on it, Dawn. It's like I said, the way they act, the way they behave, it's always us against them, and 'us' means the two of them. No one else, except maybe that missing relatives of theirs." She shifted into a crouch. Based on what she was saying, I wasn't to sure Zoey had a full comprehension of what was going on. "Did they even give you any idea where they think he is? Or why he hasn't come for them?"
"No, but—"
"I'm not arguing, I'm just saying…" She crawled to the opening and peeked out. "It's like last year, when I went out with this guy. He was part of a clique at school. The 'cool kids.' " She looked back at me and added the quotes with her fingers. "And, sure, I kinda liked getting to hang with them. I thought it'd make me one of them. Only it didn't. They were nice enough, but they'd been friends since, like, third grade. Just because I had an in didn't mean I'd ever be one of them. You've got these superpowers. That gives you cred with Jimmy and Paul. But…" She turned my way. "You've only known them for a week. When push comes to shove…"
"Their first priority is each other. I know that. And I'm not saying you're wrong, just—"
"Paul's nice to you and all, sure. I see that But—" She nibbled her lip, then slowly lifted her gaze to mine. "Does it really make you his top priority over Jimmy?"
Of course he was worried about Jimmy. Jimmy was his brother, always the first priority. I was some girl he met a month ago.
I'd been about to fill in Zoey about the rest of the plan, considering she probably had no clue what was going on. That we were to make this our permanent rendezvous point, and keep checking back. But now it would sound like I was trying to prove the guys hadn't turned their backs on me. How pathetic was that?
I still thought they'd come back after things died down. They'd come back because it was the right thing to do. Because they said they would. And maybe that makes me a silly girl who's watched too many movies where the slightly bad-guy-turned-good always comes back to save the day. But it's what I believed. Paul was honorable. He might search for Jimmy first, but he would come back.
That did not, however, mean I was sitting here like an damsel in distress girlfriend, twiddling her thumbs waiting for rescue. I might be naive, but I wasn't stupid. We'd set a rendezvous point, so there was no need to stick around any longer.
I crawled from our cubbyhole, looked, and listened. Zoey had filtered away, probably to wherever ghosts go in their free time, replaced by Topaz.
"Thought I'd be a bigger help than her, princess." she said. I glanced at her. "And plus she has no clue she's croaked. Or at least I don't think she does. Might wanna tell her soon, princess."
"We should find help." I said, pushing my bangs back. "M-Maybe my mom…"
"First thing I need to do is get some damn money," Topaz snapped. I paused, contemplating this.
"I've got my allowence but we might need more. There's a withdrawal limit per an ATM, and that's probably all I'll get, so I have to act fast, before they put a trace on it or freeze the account." Topaz smirked.
"Then lets find us an hell of a lot of ATMs."
o.0.o.0.o
"Dawn?"
At the first ATM I managed to get to, the sun was rising, and someone called out my name. I flinched, hoping that it was mistaken identity and they would move on, but no. The person approached me and tapped me on the shoulder.
"Dee-Dee…" Kenny drawled out the nickname, smirking.
"I can't right now, Kenny." I said, shaking my head.
"Nice to see you too." he muttered. "What are you doing? I got your email. Aren't you in some place or another? Did they let you out?"
I swallowed, then turned.
"Not… Not exactly." I said. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Sure. Always."
"I need to go home."
o.0.o.0.o
Kenny peppered me with questions as we drove home, but I answered vaguely. Kenny dropped me off, forcing me to promise him a phone call, then drove off. I walked up and opened the door, only to see my Mom on the other side, looking prepared to leave.
"Dawn?" she asked, staring at me. "Dawn, what are you doing here?"
"We need to talk." I said. She glanced around, then gestured for me to come inside.
"So this is where rich girls live." Topaz mused. "Niiiice."
I ignored her, my mom sitting me down. She ran to the kitchen. I heard whispers with Agatha, then Mom came back.
"Agatha's getting you a snack, sweetie." she said, sitting next to me. "Now what's going on?"
Then I told her the whole story. Well, the edited version. Very edited, with no mention of zombies, magic, gijinka's, or shifters. The boys had been planning to run away and they'd invited us. We'd gone along just for fun—to get out, goof off, then go back later. Knowing Mom didn't care for some of the people in that house, I included the part about Miss Van Curd attacking me in the yard with her wild accusations.
Halfway through, Agatha passed me a snack, fruit and a a bottle of diet pepsi. I drank and ate while I talked.
Then I told her about the gun, pulling the dart, needle wrapped in the makeshift bandages that we had used for my arm. She stared down at the dart, lying on her coffee table, on top of a stack of coordinator magazines. She picked it up, gingerly, as if it might detonate, and turned it over in her hands.
"It's a tranquilizer dart," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
"That's what we thought."
"But—They shot this at you? At you?"
"At us."
She slumped back, leather squeaking under her. Hope stirred in my arms.
"Hope took the dart for Paul and I, but I don't think Marina and Jade were so lucky. And I still don't know what's going on with Jimmy, Onyx, or Paul." I continued, shooting her a glance. "Paul was very protective of me. He made sure I made it through first, and came running at the slightest sound. He's… not as bad as you all think he is. Not as bad as I thought he was."
I only said that to clear Paul's name with my mother. She didn't like him and I wanted to defend him, to prove to her that she was wrong about him.
"They were all there," I said, looking down as Hope began making noises. "They'll tell you the same thing."
""No, I—" She lifted her gaze to mine. "I believe you, hon. I just can't believe—This is so completely…" She shook her head.
"Where did you find Lyle House?" I asked.
She blinked.
"Find?"
"How did you find it for me? In the yellow pages? Through a recommendation?"
"Agatha suggested it, saying that she had a friend who's son was sent there. Bear or… something? Oh, I don't know!"
Barry, I immediately though. It had to be Barry.
"Well, I googled it, and it came highly recommended, Dawn. Very highly. I did all my research. Their recovery rate is excellent and they had glowing reports from patients and their families. I just can't believe this happened."
So I hadn't randomly arrived at Lyle House. It'd been recommended. Did that mean anything? My hand brushed Zoey's sunglasses, somehow still in my possession after all that. No ordinary group home would track runaways with tranquilizer guns. The ghost had been right. There was a reason we'd been at Lyle House and now, withholding the truth from Mom, I could be putting her into danger.
"About the ghosts ..." I began.
"You mean what that Van Curd woman said?" Aunt Lauren slapped the dart back onto the magazines with such force that the pile fell, magazines sliding across the glass table- top. "The woman is obviously in need of mental help herself. Thinking you can communicate with ghosts? One whiff of that to a review board and her license will be revoked. She'll be lucky if she isn't committed. No sane person believes people can speak to the dead."
Okay, forget the confession… My Mom rose.
"I'm going to start by calling my lawyer, and contact Lyle House. Sweetie, we'll show them what happens when they mess with the Hikari's!"
o.0.o.0.o
I dozed off before we reached the first traffic light.
I wasn't sure what I was doing in a car, or why Agatha was driving, but I supposed all those sleepless nights had something to do with that. Being in my Mom's car helped, with its familiar smell of berry air freshener and its soft beige leather seats and the faded blue spot where I'd spilled a slushie three years ago. Back home. Back to normal.
I knew it wasn't that simple. I wasn't back to normal. And Paul and Jimmy and Onyx were still out there and Jade and Marina where who know's where I was worried about them. But even that worry seemed to fade as the car bumped along, like I was leaving it behind in another life. A dream life. Part nightmare, part… not.
Raising the dead, escaping from the clutches of an evil doctor, tearing through abandoned warehouses with people shooting at me. It all seemed so unreal in this familiar car, the radio station tuned to BobFM, Agatha scoffing when I murmured I didn't like that particular song, then turning it up, just to annoy me.
So familiar. So normal. So comforting.
And, yet, even as I drifted off, I clung to the memories of that other life, where the dead came to life and fathers and sisters and brothers disappeared and sorcerers conducted horrific experiments and buried the bodies under the house and girls who could heal and had pokémon attributes and boys could make fog appear from their fingertips or turn into wolves. Now it was over and it was like waking up to discover I couldn't see ghosts anymore.
The feeling that I'd missed out on something that would make my life tougher but might also make it different.
An adventure.
Something special.
o.0.o.0.o
And that sounds like a good note to end it on. Expect the last chapter to be up soon, if not immediately after this. You all deserve a double update, I think.
Amy47101 signing off! ^.^