The Gathering Dark (44 page)

Walker blinked, surprised. “Oh. Yeah. They don’t know, exactly. The scientists who worked with Dr. Sendson thought it was the dark matter trying to get back into Darkside. Kind of the same way that iron’s drawn to a magnet. Once you’re Darkside, though, it kind of settles down.”

Keira chewed on her lower lip, thinking. “So, we’ll always have the marks while we’re on this side of the barrier? Like—like moving tattoos that no one else can see?”

Walker’s mouth curved up into a smile. “Something like that. You’ll get used to it. I promise.”

Keira sighed. She had a feeling she was going to be hearing
that a lot in the days to come. There was going to be an awful lot for her to get used to; a lot of things to sort out.

Still. She had her music—that was the most important thing. It had always been the most important thing. And now she had Walker, too. As long as those two things were certain, then whatever else happened, she could deal with it.

“What I really want to do is go home, but I’d better call Susan first.” She unplugged her phone from the car charger. The screen showed one full battery and thirteen missed calls from Susan. “Would you mind driving around for a minute?”

“Not in the least.”

He started the car, steering them out of the streetlamp’s halo and into the darkness.

Susan answered halfway through the second ring.

“Keira? Oh, my God. Are you all right? Where are you? Where have you been?” she demanded.

“I’m about five minutes from my house. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I got . . . really tied up.” She tried to keep her voice light. “Are you okay? I feel bad about the way we left things the other day. Can I come over? Can we talk?”

“Actually,” Susan said, stretching out the word until it was hair-thin. “I’m not home. I’m at your house.”

Keira sat forward so quickly that her seat belt jerked tight against her chest. Walker looked over at her, his eyes wide with alarm. She shook her head at him.

“What are you doing there?” she choked out.

Walker pulled the car over to the side of the road.

“I came to see your parents. Well, your mom, at least. I’m sorry, Keira. I wasn’t trying to betray you or anything, but I was worried. I tried and tried to call you, and you never answered, and I thought, you know, what if Walker’d had a wreck and you were lying in a ditch somewhere and no one knew where you were and—” She stopped abruptly. “I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble. I just didn’t know what else to do. Are you mad?”

Keira’s temples throbbed with a headache. “No. I’m not. I mean, I wish I wasn’t about to walk into the worst grounding of my life, but I understand. Are you still mad at
me
?”

Susan was quiet for a moment. It felt like an eternity. “No,” she said finally. “I’m not. I’m confused, and I’m still worried, but I’m not mad. I realized that you wouldn’t run off with just any guy. Walker must be important—
really
important—and if something or someone means that much to you, then we’ll sort it out. But you can’t run off like that again, okay? I was half out of my mind when I couldn’t get ahold of you.”

There was no way Keira could promise Susan that she wouldn’t ever disappear again, but she couldn’t handle lying right then. Instead, she dodged the question. “Hey, speaking of getting ahold of people, have you heard from Smith?”

“Not really. I sent him those texts and then he texted back and said he was dealing with a bunch of stuff back home and wouldn’t be around for a while.” Susan sounded disappointed but not heartbroken.

“Are you okay with that?” Keira asked.

“I dunno. We were having fun, but I’m not up for dealing with a bunch of drama, you know? Maybe it’s for the best. Anyway. I probably need to go. I was getting ready to leave when you called. I’m sitting in my car outside your house, and your mom is watching me through the window, which is getting a little weird.”

Keira closed her eyes. She was in so much trouble with her mom. This was going to be bad. This was going to be worse than bad—it was going to be another tiny apocalypse, another version of her life that was going to end. Only this time, it would be at her mother’s hands.

“You might as well come home,” Susan said. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

“I’m on my way,” she said.

And then she hung up.

Walker ran his hands around the steering wheel. “Susan told your mom that you weren’t staying with her, didn’t she?”

Keira stared straight ahead, her arms crossed tight in front of her.

“Yep. She got worried. I want to be pissed, but instead I kind of love her for it, you know? Does that sound strange?”

Walker was silent for a moment as he navigated the three blocks back to her house. Finally, he sighed, pulling the car to a stop in front of her house. He turned to face her. “Things are always strange. That’s the way life is.”

Beneath the blanket of night, Keira could see every light in her house was on, and Susan’s car was in the driveway.

“This is going to be awful,” she said simply.

Walker laughed. “After everything else that’s happened today? This is going to be no big deal. I’ll go in with you,” he offered.

“I don’t think that’s going to help. At all.” Keira bit her lip. How was she going to explain her tattered clothes?

“I guess not. We could still take off—get out of Sherwin. Have our own Great American Road Trip.” It sounded like a joke, but his voice was tentative. Hesitant.

Keira couldn’t stop her smile. This time, Walker didn’t have all the answers either.

She took a long breath and leaned her head against the window, staring up at the stars twinkling against the indigo sky.

“It sounds a lot nicer than finding out what’s going on in there,” she said, waving toward her house. “But it wouldn’t be right.” She looked at Walker. “I just have to go in. You’re right—it can’t be any worse than what I’ve already faced today.”

“I really can be right there with you,” Walker offered again. “Your mother’s wrath doesn’t scare me.”

Keira shook her head. “Thanks, but I think this is one I need to do on my own.” She smiled at him. “If you’d go with me as far as the door, though, I wouldn’t complain.”

They got out of the car, and fell into step next to each other, the concrete squares of the sidewalk slipping past all too quickly
beneath their feet. At the shadowy end of Keira’s driveway, she turned to face him.

Before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers, his arms tight around her waist. It was like kissing lightning. Her skin tingled with it, her heart flailing to find its rhythm amid the electricity. She felt the Darkside wind sweep over them as the kiss sent them across the barrier between the two worlds, and then the cold squeeze as Walker pulled them back to Sherwin again.

Keira pulled away reluctantly. “We really shouldn’t do that,” she said.

“Not often,” he agreed. “But not never, either.”

“I love you,” she said.

Walker laughed. “I love you too. You don’t have to sound quite so sad about it, though.”

“My mother’s going to try to ground me for life.”

Walker leaned in, wrapping his arms around her.

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll wait for you here or I’ll wait for you in Darkside. Wherever you end up, I’ll be there.”

“Waiting,” she said.

“That’s the idea, yes,” he teased.

In the window, over his shoulder, she could see the open top of her piano. It looked like it was waving. Like it was welcoming her home.

Maybe facing the music wouldn’t be entirely bad, after all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

O
NE OF MY GREAT
regrets in life is that I never took a physics course. I didn’t care about calculating the velocity of a falling apple.
Bo-RING.
What I failed to realize was how much there was to learn beyond introductory physics. I didn’t understand that,
right now
, physicists are searching for ghostly particles and calculating just how the universe will end.

Dark matter isn’t something I made up for the purpose of writing
The Gathering Dark
. It’s way cooler than that.

Basically, we know there must be more “stuff” in the universe for it to work the way it does, but we don’t know exactly what—or where—that stuff is. Physicists call this dark matter. We know some force beyond the ones we understand must be driving the universe’s expansion. Scientists call that dark energy. We can’t see dark matter or dark energy—not the way we usually see things, at least. We can’t touch them. We just know they must be out there. Somewhere. Somehow.

Both quantum physics and astrophysics are racing to figure out dark matter and dark energy because without understanding them we don’t really understand the universe. We don’t really understand
anything
.

If you want to know more about this research, you should read
Einstein’s Telescope: The Hunt for Dark Matter and Dark Energy in the Universe
by Evalyn Gates and
The 4 Percent Universe: Dark Matter, Dark Energy, and the Race to Discover the Rest of Reality
by Richard Panek.

And you should take physics classes, because beyond Newton and falling apples lie ideas that are wilder and more amazing than most of the novels on my shelves.

The most fascinating problems have yet to be solved. The coolest imaginable questions are still out there, waiting to be answered. I encourage you to be the one who answers them. There is as much room for dreamers and poets in science as there is in the arts. There is room for you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are so many people to thank for this book. There always are, but this time even more than ususal. Of course, first and foremost, this book wouldn’t be in your hands without the belief and support (not to mention the genius ideas) of my editor, Annette Pollert. Behind Annette stands the entire crew at Simon Pulse, which is unrivaled. I’m so grateful to be part of their team.

Caryn Wiseman, my agent, has as always worked tirelessly on my behalf. Without her I’d be wandering the streets somewhere with a half-finished manuscript clutched in my hand. I can’t thank her enough for being in my corner.

The Gathering Dark
has been through many drafts and, as you might have noticed, it’s a long book. These two things make it necessary to thank the other writers who helped me with even more gusto than usual. My writing family—Lisa Amowitz, Heidi Ayarbe, Pippa Bayliss, Linda Budzinski, Dhonielle Clayton, Trish Eklund, Lindsey Eland, Cathy Giordano, Cyndy Henzel, and Kate Milford—have read drafts, held my hand, Skyped, called, laughed, cried . . . you name it. I love you ladies!

Saundra Mitchell not only read (and shredded) multiple
drafts of this book, she put up with infinite texts, phone calls, e-mails, random-showings-up-at-her-house . . . well, you get the idea. I’m lucky to count such an amazing friend among my authors, and such an amazing author among my friends.

Sonia Gensler and Kay Cassidy also gave me invaluable feedback on drafts. I owe them cupcakes. Lots and lots of cupcakes . . .

Musical suggestions and corrections came from Theodore Harvey and my husband, Erik. Thanks for pointing me toward the right pieces and filling in the theory gaps, guys!

The thing about
The Gathering Dark
is that it’s science fiction.
Science
fiction. As in, I couldn’t just make up whatever the heck I felt like and call it good. To that end, I need to thank the scientists who helped me. Any mistakes in this book are the result of my stubbornness or error. These guys did their best to steer me straight. Dr. Jerry Curran and Dr. Steve Spicklemeier pointed me toward research materials without looking at me like I was in over my head, which I appreciate.

Without Dr. Matthew Muterspaugh, though, this book would be a wreck. Not only did he point me to source materials, he also answered a blue ton of questions, read drafts, offered explanations, and even suggested solutions when I’d fiction-ed myself right into a physics box. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I’m also grateful to Eileen Abbott, for her generosity to the local United Methodist Preschool. And without Ashlee Miller,
my children would have run wild while I wrote this novel. My mom and dad also provided as much love and support as a girl could ask for—without them, I’d be lost.

And of course, last but never least, my husband, Erik. Thank you for putting up with my odd obsessions and all the physics books. And for not laughing when you catch me staring off into space, making things up. But mostly thanks for loving me. I love you, too, you know.

CHRISTINE JOHNSON
grew up in, moved away from, then came home to Indianapolis, Indiana. She lives with her husband and two children in a creaky old house. She is also the author of
Claire de Lune
and its sequel,
Nocturne
. Visit her online at
christinejohnsonbooks.com
.