Where Silence Gathers (Some Quiet Place #2)(74)
Dream comes in the night. And this time my slumber isn’t rife with pain or storms or twisting metal; it’s filled with mockingbirds and mysterious houses next door and noble, unflinching beliefs in freedom.
A sound wakes me. Something ringing in the distance. A phone? The sunlight pouring through the window makes the insides of my eyelids bright red, forcing me to open them. Morning streams across the floors in hues of orange and pink. Before I have a chance to glance at my alarm clock, there’s a tap at the door. “Alex? Someone calling for you. Are you up?” Missy’s voice.
It’s early. Who would be calling me at this hour? My friends know better, and Andrew always tries my cell … which is now rotting at the bottom of the creek. Frowning, I leave the warmth of my bed. “Coming, Missy.” I throw a zip-up black sweatshirt over my tank top but don’t bother changing my sweatpants.
Missy is standing in the hallway, hair dripping and holding the phone out. Her eyes don’t meet mine as I take it from her, and I pretend not to see Worry standing in the shadows of the hallway. “Thanks,” I mutter, turning away. “Hello?”
“Alexandra Tate?”
The accent is an immediate giveaway. “Dr. Stern.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. In all the commotion of discovering the profiles and making the choice, I’d completely forgotten that he called about wanting to see me. “I’m sorry I missed our meeting.”
He sounds just as harried and urgent as the last time we spoke. “Are you alone?”
“Hold on.” Though I know Missy wouldn’t eavesdrop, my instincts tell me to have this conversation far away. The floor creaks as I leave my room. The apartment smells like coconuts, Missy’s shampoo. A second after I notice this, the sound of a hair dryer comes on. Quickly I head outside, where there’s nothing but the trees and the clouds to hear me. My feet are bare against the wooden steps. Despite the bright sky, the mountain air is surprisingly cold, and a vicious wind numbs my nose and the tips of my ears. “Okay,” I say into the phone, wrapping one arm around my waist in a vain attempt to keep the chill at bay. “I’m alone. What’s—”
“Alex.”
That voice makes my head snap up. Andrew is standing on the sidewalk, flanked by two Emotions like soldiers.
“Stay away from me,” I hiss, taking a step back. Fear and Anger wrap their hands around my upper arms, a small army of my own.
Andrew begins to say something, but his words are drowned out by Dr. Stern, who’s still pressed against my ear. “Is that Professor Lomenta?” he demands, his voice so sharp it threatens to slice the phone in half. “Alexandra, do not talk to him. Run, do you understand me? Run.”
My father’s best friend extends a hand toward me, palm-down, trying to make me see reason with a small thing made of flesh and bones. There’s a bandage over his nose where I punched him. “Alex, please, just listen to—”
“I know who you really are.” I glare at him. Stumbling back another step, I drop the phone. Anger spits at Andrew’s feet, though he doesn’t see it.
At my words, he goes still. “What do you mean?” But it’s evident in his eyes and voice that he knows.
“You’re Sammy Thorn’s son. You lied to everyone. You lie about a lot, actually. Who knows what else you’re hiding?” My car is behind him. There’s no way I can get to the glove box.
“Yes, Sammy was my father,” Andrew says bluntly, recovering. He doesn’t seem to notice how I keep eyeing my car. “I was going to tell you someday, when the time was right. But that’s irrelevant right now.”
“Irrelevant?” I repeat in disbelief, focusing on him again. “How is that irrelevant? Your father took children from their beds. Then, after he disappeared off the face of the earth, it started happening again, to Christine Masterson and the others. In fact, most of them disappeared just before the accident. No, I’m not finished. I don’t know what experiments you guys were performing on those kids or why my dad was involved, but I do know it can’t be a coincidence that you’re tied to all of it.”
I stop, out of breath, and Andrew looks at me for a long, long time. His face is ashen, and his nostrils keep flaring like there’s a foul smell in the air. At some point during my speech, Fear appeared at his side.
“You unlocked the flash drive,” Andrew says finally.
“You didn’t!” Fear gasps, in my direction. Normally I would flip him the bird. Now, though, there’s an awful feeling blooming in the pit of my stomach, like a toxic rose. In a burst of clarity—even if the reasons aren’t clear—I know I’ve made a mistake.
Spinning away, Andrew rakes his hair back. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a strand out of place. He stares at the trees, then turns back to me, wild and desperate. “Please tell me you didn’t contact any of them,” he says. There’s a tremor in his voice. “Please.”
“I talked to Dr. Stern.”
He closes his eyes. “Alex, you have no idea what you’ve done.”
“Then tell me,” I snap, hating the feeling of being closed in by all our Emotions. Fear, Anger, Desperation, Regret. But Andrew still says nothing. I grit my teeth, glancing up at the apartment window to make sure Missy hasn’t overheard us. She must still be doing her hair. “Dr. Stern told me to stay away from you. I saw you in some videos, standing next to those missing kids. Then I heard the voicemail Dad left—”