The Writing Retreat(59)

Now I regretted wandering away from Poppy, drawn in by my hallucinations. She’d wanted to show me something—but what? That secret, too, was now tinged with unease.

In the kitchen, Chitra was chopping something at a cutting board. “Good morning!” She grinned. “Back from your trip?”

“Yep.” Wren glanced at me. Did Chitra know it hadn’t been our choice?

“Everything okay?” Chitra looked back and forth between us.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” I opened the basement door.

“Where are you going?” Chitra’s sharp tone stopped me.

“We can’t find Poppy,” I said. “And she and I went down there last night.”

“Well, be careful.” Chitra turned back to the counter. “I’ve always said that door should be locked. There’s too much junk down there and not enough light. Someone could get hurt.”

“Shit,” Wren muttered as we started down the stairs.

“Poppy?” I called as we reached the bottom. “Are you down here?” The basement was even more frigid than I remembered. I turned on the light.

“So she went over there.” I pointed towards the left. “That wall. And she was pushing boxes around for some reason. And I went this way.” I pointed to the right.

“Why?” Wren sounded suspicious.

“I don’t know. I was tripping.” I shrugged. “I got distracted and wandered off.”

“Why did you come down here to begin with?” Her eyes gleamed in the dim light.

“Poppy wanted to show me something.”

“What?”

“She didn’t say.” I turned abruptly. “I’ll look over here, where I went. Why don’t you go over there, by the wall?”

Using my phone’s flashlight to see, I wound through the stacked boxes and furniture. Last night had felt so momentous, operatic, stepping from the cement floor into a magical forest. But now it just looked like any other dusty basement filled with shit. At least it felt slightly warmer over here.

One of the little paths opened up into a wider space. A black leather couch sat in the middle. Was this the “clearing” I’d come across last night?

I remembered holding Christina’s hand, how real it had felt. The chanting creatures, the demoness… had I really just been lying here alone, fucked-up and masturbating?

My shoe kicked something that went skittering across the floor. I went after it, searching amongst shadows until I spotted something glint under the couch.

It was a tube of peppermint lip balm.

“Alex!” Wren’s panicked voice tore my attention away.

“Be right there!” Slipping it into my pocket, I hurried towards her.

Wren ran up to me when I reached the stairs. “Oh my god!” She clutched my arms, on the verge of sobbing. “Oh my god, Alex, oh my god.” She dragged me away from the stairs, towards the back wall. We wound through more tall stacks of boxes that obscured the view. Something white and fragile blew past. At first I thought it was a piece of cobweb, but then it dissolved. We rounded a covered wardrobe and I halted abruptly.

Half-hidden behind the wardrobe was an open door. Beyond, snow-covered cement steps rose up into sunlight. Flakes drifted in, creating a small hill just inside the doorway.

“Do you see it?” Wren pointed with one shaking finger.

I stepped closer. My heart thrummed so intensely it felt on the verge of exploding.

Yes, I could see it. I pressed my arms against my chest, shaking from cold and fear and shock.

In the snow that covered the cement stairs, there were indentations, shallow but unmistakable.

Footprints.





Chapter 22




I turned back to Wren but she was already gone. I heard her pounding up the basement steps, yelling, nearly shrieking.

I sank down into a crouch, feeling suddenly light-headed.

My parents were going to take me to a specialist because they were worried I’d hurt myself or wander outside or something.

Poppy the sleepwalker had sleepwalked outside.

Had she done it while tripping, in a dreamlike state, or after she’d fallen asleep? It could have been either. As I stood there, frigid water seeping into my socks, it struck me that this was the horrible news I’d been dreading ever since I woke up.

My feet sank into the imprints as I climbed the steps, the frosty wind snatching at my clothes and hair.

“Poppy?” I could barely get the strangled word out of my throat. The back lawn was an expanse of white. I forced myself to scan for lumps.

“Alex!” Chitra was calling from inside. “Come back. You’ll freeze.”

I examined the landscape once more. Nothing. In a daze, I came back inside. Chitra’s face was distorted with fear. She pulled me away from the doorway and shut the door.

“No!” I cried, but Chitra held fast to my arm.

“She’s not coming back that way, love.” Chitra’s voice was grim.

“Do you think she’s okay?” I asked. The dread had broken into a raging gale, ravaging my insides.

“I don’t know.” Chitra pulled at me. “But standing here dripping wet isn’t going to help. Let’s go back up.”

When we reached the kitchen, Taylor was just entering the room, Yana and Wren close behind her.