Red is for Remembrance (24 page)

"I love you," she whispers, over and over again.

Shell embraces her, noticing right away how she smells like lavender, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.

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Shell wakes up in a sweat, his sweatshirt damp with perspiration. He forces his eyes closed, trying to retain his dream -- her face.

He can still feel her-- the way her fingers clasped around his neck, the way she pressed herself against him, her heart beating fast against his chest.

And what Angel said-- how he has amnesia. It's not like it comes as a big surprise to him; it's just that the word makes

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it more real. There's a past out there waiting for him-- a whole life-- and yet he has no idea how to find it.

Keeping his eyes closed, he remembers how she also said that he fell overboard, that he almost drowned. He wonders if that's why he felt so uncomfortable sitting on the dock, near the water.

He concentrates hard on the image, imagining himself falling from a boat and plunging into the sea.

That's when he remembers. The cruise. The railing that came loose. And tumbling backwards through the air. His head had smacked hard against something-- the side of the boat maybe. After that, everything went black.

He remembers several hours later-- or maybe it was days. Someone was whispering to him, rubbing a warm cloth over his face. He thinks it was Sierra. He remembers her brittle voice--

how she sang to him and told him stories. She fed him chicken broth and herbal tea, even though he was barely conscious, and nursed him back to health. He remembers her telling him how lucky he was, that his neck could have snapped in the fall. She told him that all things happen for a reason-- that that's why Clay and the others were on a taking mission that night. They'd been following the cruise boat he was on and saw the accident-- his fall.

He wonders why Mason or Clay never mentioned all this, if the only reason Sierra told him was because she thought he might never wake up. But then he thinks how it's obvious that they didn't want him to know. Because then he might want to go back.

He opens his eyes, eager to tell Brick all about his dream, but he isn't here.

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Shell showers and dresses quickly, stuffing the pentacle rock in his pocket, wondering where Brick might have gone off to so early in the morning; it's barely 5 AM.

"Have you seen Brick?" he asks Teal, on his way in from sleeping outside.

Teal shakes his head, pressing a handkerchief to his nose, having most likely caught a cold from sleeping out in ten-degree weather.

Shell wonders if Brick might have been assigned an early morning chore. He heads to the dining cabin, hopeful that he might learn something from one of the other campers.

And he knows just who to ask.

Lily is standing at the kitchen basin, washing potatoes. "You're up early," she says, looking outside. "The sun isn't even out yet."

"Have you seen Brick?" he asks, ignoring her remarks.

Lily looks over her shoulder at Rain, who sets the table only a few feet away. "No," Lily says, shaking her head.

'Are you sure?" Shell asks.

"Sure, I'm sure. What kind of question is that?"

"Where's Clay?"

Lily shrugs and resumes scrubbing the potatoes.

"I know you're lying," he tells her quietly so Rain can't hear. "I know how close you and Clay are; he tells you everything. Are he and Brick together?"

Lily peers back at Rain. "Is everything okay?" Rain asks, her long black hair spilling down over the bib of her apron.

"Just fine," Lily says, trying to smile.

"Tell me," Shell whispers.

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"Tell you
what?"
She splashes her hands in the water a bit, trying to lamely drown out their voices maybe. "You haven't been very nice to me lately."

Shell clenches his teeth and takes a deep breath. "I need you to help me outside for a second," he says.

"I'm busy," she says. "Breakfast is in an hour."

"Please," Shell insists. "I need you to hold the door open for me while I bring in some wood." He narrows his eyes on her, hoping she gets the message.

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" She smiles.

Shell nods to Rain, but she barely has time to acknowledge their exit because she's called away by Sierra, who's looking after the children in the adjoining living room.

Shell leads Lily outside, over by the chopping station and the stockpile of wood. He pretends to gather a couple logs in the crook of his arm. "Just tell me," he says. "Where's Brick? I know you know something. Is he with Clay?"

"First,
you
tell me," she says with a huff. "Why have you been so distant with me lately?"

Shell takes another deep breath, silently counting to ten. "Because I know you don't care for me the way you think you do."

"Of course I do."

"No," he says. "I know that Mason told you to give me extra attention."

"No, he didn't."

"You're denying it?"

Lily shrugs and looks away.

"Do you think that's normal?" Shell continues. "Do you think you're supposed to be told who to love?"

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"Mason knows best," Lily whispers, her eyes welling up. "Plus, it doesn't mean that I
don't
love you."

"You know as well as I do that if I never came here, if Mason never told you who to care for, you'd be with Clay right now."

Lily shrugs again, but she doesn't deny it.

Shell puts the logs down and reaches out to touch her forearm, allowing her to fall into his arms.

After several seconds, he breaks the embrace, noticing a group of campers look in their direction en route to the bathroom. "You need to help me," he whispers. "I think Brick might be in trouble.

If you know where he is, you need to tell me."

Lily takes a step back, wiping at her eyes. "He's fine." She sighs. "He went with Clay."

"Where?"

'Ask Mason. I'm not getting in trouble over this."

Shell feels his chest tighten. He clenches the pentacle rock in his pocket, reminding himself of strength. "Where is Mason?"

"Where else
would
he be so early in the morning?" she huffs. "His study."

Shell turns on his heel, hurrying off to Mason's cabin. He knocks a couple times on the exterior door, but no one answers. He tries the knob. It turns. "Hello?" he calls, easing the door open.

"Mason?"

He takes a couple steps inside and looks toward the door to Mason's study. It's open a crack and there's a shadow flickering on the wall, from a lantern he assumes. "Mason?" Shell calls again.

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The floorboards creak. Shell swallows hard, preparing what to say.

"Shell?" Mason says, stepping into the doorway of his study. "Is everything okay?"

Shell shakes his head. "I'm looking for Brick."

"I see." Mason tightens his grip on the book he's holding. "Why don't you step inside a moment and we can talk."

Shell hesitates but then joins Mason in his study. They sit opposite one another on the benches, much like their last meeting. Mason closes the door behind him and rubs at his eyes, a long sigh blowing out his mouth. "What do you need Brick for so early in the morning?"

"I'm just looking for him. I don't need him, per se."

"He's with Clay."

"Where?"

Mason narrows his eyes on Shell. "How much do you know about Brick?"

"Enough."

"Enough to know of his betrayal?"

Shell feels the surprise on his face. "What betrayal?"

"He's been stealing from the group. Taking without first considering the worth an object has to its owner is stealing."

"Wait," Shell says, shaking his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, there were some missing things found under his bed . .. jewelry trinkets, mostly. He's been betraying us. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you."

"Wait," Shell repeats, his mind whirling with confusion. "You have it all wrong. Brick isn't the one who's stealing."

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"When you betray one of us, you betray the entire community," Mason continues, ignoring Shell.

"You betray our mission here. We can't allow such behavior to go on unnoticed."

"Clay's the one who's stealing," Shell says.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that's what Brick told you, but I have reason to believe otherwise."

Mason lets out another disappointed sigh, tossing his book to the floor. "This isn't the first time that Brick has betrayed the entire community. He's also been involved in witchcraft nonsense, even after he'd been warned against it. Our minds need to be pure if we're to conduct good work here."

"Mason," Shell says, standing up, heat rising to his face. "It isn't true."

"I'm sorry he's betrayed your friendship as well."

Shell clenches his teeth, knowing that there's no point in trying to convince Mason now. He has to find Brick.

"Where is he?" Shell asks.

"Clay is taking care of things."

"What does that mean? Will Brick be okay?"

Mason gets up and goes to the door, holding it open for Shell's exit. "He needs to learn that what he did was wrong. That's what we do here-- teach."

"Mason, please," Shell insists.

"I have to go now," Mason says, grabbing the lantern and swinging it back and forth, as though a warning, as though he might strike Shell. "I'm driving some of the elder men into town. We have a little business to attend to and proba-277

bly won't be back until early tonight. We can talk more then if you wish."

Shell nods and leaves, knowing more than ever now that he has to find Brick-- and that they have to get out of here.

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I jump out of bed and grab my coat, pulling on a pair of boots as I plop down on Amber's bed.

"Wake up," I whisper, shaking her slightly.

She wipes her eyes, still a little disoriented from sleep. "What's going on?"

"I need to borrow your van."

"Why?" she asks, sitting up. "Is there something wrong?"

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I nod. "It's Porsha. She knows where the boy is . . . the one who's supposed to die."

"Can I come with you guys?"

I shake my head. "You have class."

"So do you. What happened to the good old days . . . when you used to let me help you fight crime?"

"I hope to be back later tonight."

"Ho hum." She sighs, clearly disappointed that I won't be taking her with me. Amber grabs the keys from her Hello Kitty lunchbox of a purse and hands them to me. "Take my cell phone, too,"

she says, scrambling through the contents of the box to find it.

"I kind of already did," I say, pulling the phone from my pocket.

Instead of griping about it, Amber nods. "Good," she says. "Call me if you need anything or just to let me know you're okay."

"Of course," I say, giving her a giant hug. It is sort of sad that she isn't coming with me . . . that Drea isn't here, too, and that everything is changing so fast.

Amber's vintage Volkswagen van is parked in the back of our dorm. I climb in, start her up, and crank the heat. It's 3:30. It's probably going to take us close to two hours to get down to the Cape from here, maybe more. Part of me is hoping that her prediction about the sun rising is wrong, that it's dark in her dream because it's nighttime rather than early in the morning. I'm just not sure we'll make it otherwise.

I pull out of Beacon's Drive and across the street to the president's house. Porsha is already waiting for me in the

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driveway. I unlock her door and she hops in, dressed for the occasion in shades of black and charcoal.

"Let's get out of here," she says, peering out the windows. "My father's still asleep."

"Did you tell him you were going out?"

"Yeah, right," she says, fastening her seatbelt. "I left Tamara a note that said I was with you.

That should keep him quiet for a while."

I shake my head and pull out onto the road, the van sputtering a couple times from the cold. "So where are we going?"

"Where else? The Cape."

"Yeah, but
where?"

Porsha pulls a few sheets of paper from her bag. 'A town called Brutus."

"Excuse me?"
I gasp. Brums is only one town over from where we were staying this past summer.

"Yeah," Porsha says, referring to the sheets. "Your spell worked. I dreamt about some place called Bargo Tower." She flashes me a picture of a tall brick tower positioned high on a hill. "I looked it up online and found it. Here are the MapQuest directions, by the way." She places them on the console.

"Okay," I say, taking a giant breath, trying to get everything straight. "So, this boy-- "

"Trevor," she corrects. "That's his name. He told me so in his dream. And then he asked me if I was his guardian angel."

"What did you say?"

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"I told him I was." She shrugs. "I mean, when you think about it... "

"Wait," I say. "Is he going to be at the tower?"

She shakes her head. "I told you, he's at some camp, but it's near the tower."

"How near?"

"I'm not sure, but Brutus is pretty small." She rechecks the map. "It shouldn't be hard to find a camp commune like theirs .. . you know, so primitive, near the woods, overlooking the ocean. I bet people in the town will know about it."

"That's it? So we're just supposed to ask? You didn't see anything else?"

"I saw a fence."

"What kind of fence?"

"A chainlink one, like they have at parks, but with barbed wire at the top."

"Like a prison?"

She nods. "There was a hole in the fence, too-- toward the bottom-- like it had been cut and pried open, and there was a lot of overgrown brush around it."

"Was there anything else around it? Any structures . . . some landmark we might be able to recognize?"

Porsha shakes her head. "It might be near something bee-related."

"B, as in the letter
B?"

"No." She shakes her head.
"Bee
as in the kind that buzzes."