Some Quiet Place (Some Quiet Place #1)(61)
You will need that boy in the end.
“You look better,” Joshua finally says, breaking the long stillness. He tugs at the hem of his T-shirt, an anxious movement. He looks a lot like Sarah; the shadows under his eyes, the drawn features. His hair is greasy and hanging in front of his eyes again.
“You can come in, you know.” I glance at the chair Sarah vacated a few minutes ago, but Joshua doesn’t move. He just stares at me as if he’s memorizing my features. He looks torn.
“I’m okay,” I say, and it’s the truth. My voice is normal, my minimal wounds are healing. Will Fear heal? Stop it, I tell myself flatly. But it takes a huge amount of effort to stop thinking about him.
Joshua draws in a ragged breath, his fists clenching at his sides. “It was the weirdest thing,” he tells me. “I was at home with my dad, and suddenly I got this feeling that you needed me. I didn’t even think about it; I just left. And for some reason, I went right to the school. There was your truck, just sitting there. I heard you scream.” He closes his eyes, and I study the veins in his eyelids, such tiny things.
Someone is speaking over the intercom and we both listen to the words for a moment. “Annie Harkin, please report to the third floor nurse’s station … ”
Joshua rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, sighing some more.
I straighten my blankets. “Joshua—”
“You are really trying my patience.”
Joshua doesn’t open his eyes or even move, but I glance away at the sound of the familiar voice. A hooded figure is standing in the open doorway, huddled, fists clenched.
Rebecca.
Twenty
She stomps into the room like she owns it. She points at Joshua with a hand that’s covered by her too-long sleeve. “You, out.”
Joshua blinks. Frowns. He glances from her to me uncertainly. “Do you … ?” he starts.
Our intruder sighs impatiently. “You suddenly feel an urge to go home and do whatever it is you do there. Go.” Power leaks into the words.
Joshua’s body jerks, and he resists for a moment—he’s strong, but not strong enough. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” he says to me, already walking out. “I need to go home.”
I just watch him leave. Then I turn my gaze back to this creature who’s barged into my world yet again. She waits, utterly still, probably prepared for more questions about the past or the influence on me. After all, she’s my only link to any of it. But even I don’t expect the words that come out of my mouth, as unstoppable as a meteor hurtling to the earth: “Is Fear alive? Have you heard anything about him?”
I picture it again, his expression, his cheek scraping over the ground, the blood between his fingers. For some reason my heart picks up speed; we both hear it from the monitor beside my bed. Beep, beep-beep, beep-beep-beep.
She tilts her head a little. The hood falls against the side of her jaw. When it becomes apparent that she isn’t going to answer, it occurs to me that she probably has no idea what I’m talking about. “You’ve been gone for a while,” I say after a moment of stiff quiet.
At this she moves to stand by the bed. Her jerky movements speak volumes. Irritation and maybe a little relief at seeing me alive. “I shouldn’t have come back,” she snaps. “No one else is stupid enough to be in this horrid little place while that monster is around.”
“Ah, yes.” My eyes narrow. “Him. Are you trying to get me killed? Because I’m assuming he’s the reason you told me not to go Sophia’s party that night. You knew he would be here.”
Rebecca breathes through her nose, a visible sign she’s striving for control. All I can see of her is the bottom of her chin. “The key words there are told you not to. You deliberately went against my warning. He’s been looking for you, and I knew he’d be drawn to that party like a moth to a flame.”
“Why was he after me?” I ask bluntly.
Now she sighs, walking to the window to peer out. “You’re so stubborn. If you would just … ” She stops, begins again. “One of the side effects of the illusion on you is that I can’t tell you a thing about why I placed it in the first p-place. If I’m around when you discover something from the past, I have no choice b-but to remove the evidence.” She grips the windowsill with white fingers. “My own essence makes sure I do, and that I don’t speak of it, or it causes me searing pain. Which is part of the reason I’ve been so vague with you.”
An illusion? That’s when I put another piece of the puzzle together. She’s the one who made the newspaper disappear. How long has she been watching me?
Putting aside thousands of questions—about this, about Nightmare, Landon’s murder, their mother and the stone house, my past, the power—I ask the question that’s been stalking me since all this began. “Do you know why Courage told me I would need Joshua?”
“Because I told him I thought the boy could break through!” she explodes. She’s agitated; she speaks with her arms, waving them around her head and pacing the floor. “It would’ve been the quickest way. It seemed like you were feeling something for him. All the signs were there! You were smiling, letting him close. I saw the way you looked at him when he brought you to see those ridiculous bugs.” Then, abruptly, she stops, rubbing her temples. She forces her tone to be even. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since … ” She trails off, shaking her head.