East

East | Chapter 18

Chapter 18

AS I SLEEP, I DREAM. I see a scowling, gap-toothed Dennis standing with both hands on his hips. "Just get on the bike! It's not that hard!" Once I finally climb over the seat he gives me a hard push, and I shriek as I slide out of control, down the hill...

It's a memory. At the bottom of the hill Jem puts out his hands to stop the bike; he laughs as I try to kick him, jump onto his back, beat at him with my tiny fists. "Wanna go again?" His blue eyes twinkle. I nod.

Suddenly his hair grows longer and his eyes melt to a hazel green, and now adult Dennis is holding me. "You broke our family!" He shouts, and lets go.

I'm falling... The ocean swallows me whole. I drink in the feel of its icy cold caresses on my cheeks, my arms, my thighs, all the way down to my toes... A current rushes me to the surface—I push myself into open air, and up above me the sun shines blazes—rays of golden light...

Rockets of yellow flame... Screams, shouts—"Thea!" The sound of wood, creaking, crackling cracking... I see Jem's terrified face next to a fallen blue-painted door, arms held high, mouth moving, screaming—"Jump, East, jump!" The rockets look like shooting stars.

I look into my old room, see the girl crouching there over her mother's body, tears streaming down her face, staring into a pair of emotionless clear-as-water eyes. "Are you here to finish the job?" I hear her say in my voice. I raise a hand to touch my lips and it comes away full of fire.

Ash raises a hand—the flames on my hand dance over to him—he flicks his wrist—a shower of orange sparks zip across the room like arrows.

I wake.

It's still night. It can't be more than three o'clock in the morning. I sit there in my bed for a long while, blind in the darkness. I'm drowning, in dreams, no—memories. I stumble out of bed, pull the curtains away from the window, push the window open, put my head out, try to breathe.

"East?" A low voice calls. I look down. I see Ash's face peering up at me as he gets up, one hand on the wall of the house.

"Can't—air—" I choke out, and gasp as a swell of too-hot warmth suddenly surges through my body. Too hot. Stop. No fire. No fire.

I collapse there by the window, and my last sight is of the stars watching coldly from outside in the sky. Some of them look like rockets.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I wake up in my bed, so deeply buried in covers that I can barely move. "Ugh," I moan, and my voice is hoarse, and my throat hurts. The nightmare comes back to me.

My eyes fly open. There's an extra blanket on top of my usual duvet; that's why it was so hot. I push it off, push all of it off, and stumble to the window, and push it open.

There's not much sun. What little is left is obscured by dark storm clouds in the sky, and I inhale the scent of incoming rain with a sort of gleefulness. But just that one motion is enough to make me sway on my feet, and I have to sit down, hard, on the floor.

What's happening to me? I hold my head in my hands and close my eyes when for a moment my vision brightens, then darkens, and I can't see anything. I hold the back of my hand to my forehead, like Mom used to do with the twins—the skin is hot, so hot it burns and I yelp.

The door opens. "East? Are you up?"

I hear the sound of a tray being set down, and then footsteps. "What are you doing down there?" To my surprise, Callia appears beside me. She's silent as she helps me sit up, propping a stack of pillows against the headboard for me to lean on. She picks up the tray and puts it on my lap.