Siren (35 page)

334

My head swirled as my feet stood still. The sirens had stopped sounding their alarm and were now singing. A gentle glow came from the circle as their eyes burned like night-lights. It was bright enough for me to see that I stood on a rock high above the circle, and that more sirens floated down from above, trailing happily confused men in shorts and T-shirts.

The men were a mile below the surface, but they weren't dead--yet.

The water swirled suddenly around me. My arms lifted, and a dull heaviness traveled across them before landing on my shoulders and back.

I tried to see the face of the siren before me, but unlike the others, her silver eyes were dull. I couldn't make out anything until another siren came rushing toward us; her eyes cut through the water like a lighthouse cuts through the black night sky.

My eyes widened as the light of the approaching siren grew brighter. It was Zara. She looked different--sad instead of angry, scared instead of sinister--but it was her.

By the time I looked back up, she was gone. She flew at the siren headed for me, and then toward the circle. The glaring light shifted as the second siren darted after her.

I reached both hands behind me when my back vibrated.

The tank. Zara had brought me the winterized bomb. Beakman said the control panel attached to its side would buzz when the water was cold enough from Simon's work for detonation.

I looked down at the circle to see the sirens transfixed by the

335

men drifting toward them. My heart fell as the men embraced the women who'd brought them there.

The tank vibrated again. I closed my eyes, pictured Simon waiting for us somewhere above the surface of the water ... and pushed off the rock.

I stayed high above the circle as I swam toward its center. When I tread directly over the men, I reached behind me. My fingers fumbled before finding the latch that released the tank from my back. The men's smiles grew as the sirens continued to sing to them, and I pictured their faces freezing like that--similar to the way other victims had been found, but for a very different reason.

Sing, Vanessa...
.

I shot back as if punched. Looking down, I saw every siren focused on a man ... every siren, that is, but one.

You must sing...
.

Betty. The others didn't seem to hear her--or notice that she watched me floating above them--but her voice was clear inside my head.

What did she mean, sing? What? How? What would it do now besides attract unwanted attention?

You can still save them...
.

And then I heard it. A soft, light note that swelled then exploded into a million smaller notes. Some were loud, others soft. Some short, others long. Some high, others low. They bounced off rocks, ricocheted off sand, and enveloped everyone beneath the water's surface. They sounded like they were

336

sung by many sources, an entire symphony of sirens ... but in fact, only one siren was singing.

Me.

And as the men, freed from their holds, shot up, and the sirens swarmed toward me, I pushed the button that would freeze Winter Harbor for the very first time ever.

The silver light beamed up. I kicked once, out of the spotlight, and then up. The tank floated somewhere below, but I didn't look to see where it would land. I didn't look to see if the sirens still chased me.

Later, after we'd been picked up and were recovering in the hospital, I would try to tell Simon what it was like. I would tell him how the singing grew louder before it died. I would tell him how the ice spread like wildfire, and how I could actually hear the water crystallize. I would tell him how I swam as fast as I could, until it reached my legs and I could no longer kick.

But right then, as the tank exploded and a silver, frosty cloud billowed toward us, I was only aware of one thing: I was smiling. Winter Harbor was freezing in the middle of July ... but I was smiling.

337

CHAPTER 26

"DON'T BE SCARED," Dad said, holding both of Mom's hands.

"I'm not scared."

"You're shaking."

"Well, of course I'm shaking. I'm seconds away from breaking an arm, a leg, my back, my neck, my--"

"Lovely."

She stopped complaining long enough to smile at Dad.

"You're my lovely."

I looked away as he leaned down to kiss her for the fourth time since they'd stepped onto the ice. I'd been out of the hospital and recovering at the lake house for a week, and whenever they weren't checking on me, serving me tea, or bringing me yet another blanket, they were hugging, kissing, or smiling at each other. Losing Justine had driven them apart, but losing Justine and
almost
losing me had apparently rekindled something between them I didn't recall ever having seen. It was nice ... but I also wasn't sure how to feel about it now.

338

"I've got you," Dad said, moving his hands to her waist. "I won't let you go."

"Vanessa," Mom called over her shoulder, "I'll scream as soon as I go down, but if for some reason the lifeguard doesn't hear me--"

"I'll send the emergency sled," I said.

"You'll be okay, kiddo?" Dad asked. "You'll yell if you need anything?"

I nodded, even though there was nothing I needed. Simon was already walking down the pier toward me.

I watched them move farther onto the ice. Dad was steady, but Mom's ankles bent like noodles in her ice skates. I was glad the lifeguard had hung around even after the harbor had frozen over--he still sat in his stand overlooking the ice, though now he wore sweatpants, a down jacket, gloves, and a fuzzy hat instead of swim trunks and a Winter Harbor Recreation T-shirt.

He wasn't the only one dressed for snow. There hadn't been a cloud in the sky in two weeks--since the day after I dove off Chione Cliffs--but temperatures still hadn't risen above freezing. Simon's chemical bomb combined with the sirens' atmospheric manipulation had finally made Winter Harbor live up to its name--even in the height of summer. The air was slowly warming, but Simon said the ice probably wouldn't melt until early fall. So while residents and visitors in other towns lining the Maine coast continued swimming and boating, everyone in Winter Harbor had unpacked their cold-weather gear and taken to the ice.

339

I hadn't taken to the ice yet and didn't think I would, but it was nice sitting by it and watching people skate, play hockey, and try--unsuccessfully--to ice-fish. And personally, I thought if the harbor never thawed, if the town stayed stuck in a perpetual state of winter, that that wasn't such a bad thing. There was no way whatever was frozen beneath the surface would still be alive when the ice finally melted, but I was still comforted every time I looked out at the water and saw a solid, impenetrable surface.

"I know you've been through a lot, and I don't want to freak you out," Simon said, sitting next to me on the bench. "But I think your mom is actually smiling."

I laughed. "Yet another example of the impossible suddenly becoming possible. She's taking the rest of the summer off from work, too."

He held out a foil-wrapped sandwich and a paper cup. "In honor of your first day out--eggs, sausage, and cheese on a kaiser roll, and Harbor Homefries' newly famous hot chocolate. I thought it was still a little cold for a watermelon-guava smoothie."

"This is perfect," I said, taking the breakfast. "Thank you."

We ate without talking for a few minutes. Unlike the first time we'd eaten breakfast together that summer--in the Subaru, on our way to try to find Caleb--the silence wasn't uncomfortable. After being through so much together, being able to just sit quietly was a pleasant change.

"I was at the hospital this morning," he said finally.

340

I nodded. He'd been visiting the victims every day and giving me updates when he stopped by the lake house for quick, chaperoned visits every night.

"The men are doing well. Still sleeping a ton, but the doctors said they've been communicating when they're awake."

I looked at him. "And they still haven't said anything about what happened ...?"

He shook his head. "Apparently they don't remember. The doctors are blaming it on the crazy weather, just like they are with everyone else."

I turned to the harbor. "You'd think that explanation would fall a little short."

"I think it's easier to blame the weather than it is to raise more questions they don't know how to answer."

"And no one thinks it's strange that after weeks of nonstop rain and thunderstorms, the sky has cleared for good?"

"It ended as abruptly as it started. Scientists and meteorologists are chalking it up to an inexplicable natural fluke. Maybe once enough time has passed they'll dig a little deeper."

"Like when Simon Carmichael, boy genius, brings it to their attention?" I smiled at him.

"I think I'm shelving the test tubes for now. I might even change my major--to theater, or English, or some other non-science track--when I go back to Bates."

I raised my eyebrows. I didn't buy that for a second.

"In any case," he continued gently. "They were extremely lucky--the doctors estimated that they were underwater less

341

than two minutes before the harbor froze. They'll still need to be monitored for a while, but they're getting stronger every day."

"That's good news." I'd been stunned to learn that every man who had been lured all the way down to the circle of sirens had been found in the ice, not far below the surface. When Captain Monty started drilling, he'd actually found three of them before he found me. He'd said we were all found at different depths, but that our frozen smiles were identical.

I was the first one released from the hospital. The doctors and nurses called me their "miracle patient," as even though we'd all endured the same physical challenges, my recovery was much faster. Even Simon couldn't explain it.

I could. But I hadn't yet.

"Paige is also hanging in there," he said. "She's still devastated from losing Jonathan and the baby, but she's improving."

My stomach turned at the thought of Paige. We hadn't spoken since that night, so I didn't know how she was really doing. Simon said the doctors had done everything they could, but no medically trained doctor could have known that the only way to keep the baby alive was to infuse its tiny body with salt water. And by that point, the stresses on Paige's body had taken their toll; she was unconscious before Caleb flew up to the emergency room entrance.

"And Betty's doing okay?" I asked after a few minutes.

"She says she hasn't felt physically stronger in years. She hasn't left Paige's side, and Oliver's with her more than he's not."

"I'm glad they have each other. Paige will need them."

342

He nodded and looked at me. "I still don't know how you did it."

I focused on the steam rising from the hot chocolate.

"I mean, that you made it without a wet suit, or an oxygen tank ... and the fact that you were even able to jump at all, after everything that happened and everything you knew."

I held my breath and waited for him to make the connection, just like I always did whenever he'd brought it up during the past two weeks. Logically, scientifically, I shouldn't have survived. But either his emotions were clouding reason or my power over him was strong enough to keep him in the dark, because he hadn't put it together yet. And I was more relieved every day that he didn't.

"I had to jump," I said, just like I always did. "Fortunately, letting the tank fall on its own to the ocean floor was more effective than we'd thought. And Betty told you that she heard the water crystallizing before the other sirens realized what was happening and immediately started swimming toward the surface. We were lucky."

I looked out to the harbor when he didn't say anything. I was so afraid of his knowing the truth I hadn't even prepared a response for when he finally did.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked softly.

"Great," I said, my voice too bright. "I'm out of the house, so that's a good thing, right?"

He waited for me to say something else.

"I get tired," I offered. "I sleep more than I'd like, my chest

343

aches so much that I sometimes gasp for air, and I wake up with headaches. But every day's easier than the one before."

He glanced at the harbor. Seeing Mom and Dad wobbling across the ice several yards away, he moved toward me on the bench.

My breath caught in my throat. This was the closest we'd been since we stood together at the fork in the trail leading up Chione Cliffs. My muscles ached to be even closer--I wanted to put my arms around him and kiss him and feel his body warm against mine. I'd been imagining how it would feel to be that close to him ever since I opened my eyes after waking up for the first time in the hospital. But I
couldn't
be that close. It wasn't right.

"Vanessa ... I'm still here. I know things are strange right now, but I need you to know that I'm still here. And I want to be with you, whenever you're ready."

I turned to him. "Or never at all?"

He paused. "If that's what you think is best, yes. But that's not what I want."

I searched his face. It wasn't what I wanted. I wished I could pretend it was, but even suggesting it out loud was a struggle.

Surprisingly, finally jumping off the cliff and making it out alive hadn't instantly made me fearless. I was still pretending things weren't like they really were--probably more than I ever had. I hadn't brought up Charlotte Bleu with Dad yet, and I was pretending he was still my beloved Big Poppa, who could do no wrong. I was pretending that Mom was my real mother. I