Dead End Read online

  "Really?" My voice came out edged in heat. "Because I think you were astral projecting yourself into my life—in disguise—pretending to be a ghost to keep tabs on me for your evil boss."

  He scrunched up his nose. "Wow. Well, yeah, okay, that was pretty close. How do you know about astral projection, anyway?"

  "I read a lot of fantasy. And enough fiction that I recognize it when I hear it. Usually." My breath was coming out in short, harsh puffs of air. "I can't believe you told them where I was. Oh my God, you have no idea what you've done."

  "It's not… I tried…" He jerked his hands through his hair. "Maria, I had to give them something. Look, can we discuss this later?"

  "Later?" The earth rumbled and a crack appeared in the dirt under Aedan's feet. He hopped up the concrete steps and fell against the door to avoid sinking into the opening.

  "Whoa." His eyes went wide. "Impressive. Like that kiss this morning."

  I wanted to choke him.

  However, I was smarter than that, so instead, I smiled sweetly and cracked open the door a little, motioning him closer. "That was a nice kiss."

  "Maria." Aedan scooted so close, my lips nearly grazed his ear. His skin was warm and smelled like soap and desert heat. "Please believe I'd never hurt you."

  "I do, Aedan." I tilted my head closer to his. "You know, there are benefits to being corporeal." I said the last in a low, silky tone I hadn't realized I possessed. I had no clue where it had come from. It's not as if I'd ever talked to a guy this way. Or any guy in any way, really. Except for Aedan, when I thought he was a ghost.

  The smile he gave me was movie star quality, wide and pearly. "What benefits do you mean?"

  "For one thing, it's much easier to do this." I balled my fist and punched Aedan square in the mouth the way Dad had taught me. His head whipped back, and he toppled on his butt on the step.

  "Ouch, jeez. You punch like Rocky." Blood oozed down his chin from his cut lip. "That hurt."

  "Now you know how I feel."

  "Maria, I really do like you. That wasn't a lie."

  I shoved the door shut and fumbled with the lock again. Toby whined as the other Kilshaw agent, the one Aedan called Montez, approached.

  "You've had enough time, Sterling. Unless you'd like to get popped in the mouth again?"

  Aedan glared at the other man.

  "We need to take her down before she does any more damage. Move." Montez pulled an over-sized gun out of his pocket. It was unlike any weapon I'd ever seen outside of a cartoon.

  Aedan scowled. "Back off, Montez."

  "Look around you." The other agents had gathered around a hole the second SUV's back tires had sunk into. "The ground is unstable. She has to be stopped." He raised the gun, pointed it at me. My heart jumped around in my chest like a hyperactive dog.

  "I hate you, Aedan Sterling." As last words go, not very original, but I meant every syllable.

  "Don't hate me. Please. Montez, put that thing away."

  "All that stuff I told you about my life, my mom, my ability…" My chest tightened until it hurt. The ground trembled again. "You used it against me."

  In the distance, the agents back-peddled away from the SUV as it sank lower in the sand. The diner windows rattled, and the floor cracked some more.

  Aedan shook his head. "No, I didn't."

  "Everything you told me about your mom dying, that was a lie to gain my trust so you could lead them to me."

  "What I told you was true." His bloodied mouth flattened into an annoyed scowl. "I've never told anyone about my mom."

  "Shut your lying mouth, Aedan, if that is your real name."

  "It is. I—"

  "Move, Sterling," Montez yelled.

  The ground was shaking so hard I was having trouble staying on my knees. I desperately wished I had better control of my ability. I wished I had some control. I'd have made the earth swallow Aedan and the rest of them whole.

  "Maria, listen to me." Aedan's expression went from annoyed to worried to desperate.

  "No." I pulled Toby close, shielding him with my arms as best I could.

  "He's going to do it. He's going to shoot. Montez takes his orders from the top, and if he thinks I'm compromised, he'll shoot me, too. Plus, he's always been kind of a dick." Aedan tapped the glass by the door handle. "Maria, lock the door. Do it now."

  "I've been trying! It won't—"

  "I'm not screwing around here. He's going to shoot. Lock the door."

  I scrabbled for the rusted deadbolt above the keyhole. Stupid thing still wouldn't turn. I stood, put all my weight on it, twisted it so hard I thought my thumb was going to break off.

  "Hurry," Aedan whispered.

  Montez called out, "She's trying to barricade herself inside to prepare for another attack. Everyone here has seen what she's capable of. I don't have to warn you. Positions."

  He pulled the trigger on the cartoon gun. The force that flew out of it hit the windows like a bomb blast—or at least, what I thought a bomb blast would feel like. Strong, heated power. I went down to my knees again, but kept my fingers on the lock.

  "What is that?"

  "Sound wave. Disorienting as hell, but not deadly unless he cranks it up to high. Keep trying." Aedan whispered this to me, then shouted at Montez. "Cut the shit. You almost blasted half my ass off."

  "If you don't want it blasted all the way off, get it out of the way." The gun went off again, this time to the right of me. Every window in the old café fractured.

  "Montez," Aedan yelled, but the other man wasn't paying attention. He was too busy issuing orders to the uniformed people behind him.

  "All right now, move in."

  "Cover your face, Maria. Now."

  I did and Aedan punched through the spiderwebbed glass in the window. He stuck a bloodied fist and part of his arm through the hole he'd made, and grabbed hold of my hand. Silver threads of electricity shot out of his hand and the lock finally began to move beneath my fingers.

  "What was that?" It felt like walking across new carpet and touching something metal—times ten. "You did it before when you were a ghost—when you astral-projected into my motel room, I mean."

  "My ability."

  "You never told me you had one."

  "I know."

  "Jerk." I yanked my hand out of his and went back to working at the lock.

  "This isn't necessary," Aedan said to the other agents. "She's not going anywhere."

  "No, but if we don't stop her, she'll kill us all with that ability of hers," one of the agents commented. "We know what she's capable of. Most of us were there the day she destroyed that highway."

  My hands shook and my eyes filled with tears. I hadn't meant to hurt anyone.

  "Don't listen to him. He doesn't know you," Aedan whispered. "You'd never hurt an innocent person on purpose. Hold onto your things, to Toby. If you don't, he'll be left behind."

  "What are you talking—"

  "No time. Just do it."

  I reached for my things and tucked them under me, then I gripped Toby's collar with the hand not uselessly working at the lock, trying to protect him while at the same time anticipating the death I knew was hurtling toward us. My chest tightened. My head felt disconnected from my body. My fingers were numb.

  "You can do this. Try harder," Aedan said through gritted teeth.

  I stared at his handsome face, even more handsome in person, and hated him because he'd meant the world to me and ended up being yet another disappointment. "Go to hell."

  Montez leveled the gun. Stared straight into my eyes.

  Aedan sighed. He stood and faced Montez, fingertips sparking. "Be safe, Maria."

  I pinched my eyes shut, gave the lock one last hard twist, and braced myself for impact.

  5

  A choir of angels, no, wait—Elvis Presley—was singing my name. Was this Heaven? Instead of Saint Peter, had God hired Elvis to do roll call?

  The singing got louder. Clearer. I realized he wasn't singing my name,
but the name of his latest "flame." An old song.

  I opened my eyes. The café was gone—well, not gone, but I was no longer stuck in that dusty abandoned death trap. This café was pristine. Cleaner than any restaurant I'd ever seen. Even the old-fashioned jukebox glistened like brand new.

  Where was I? Was I dead? If so, at least Toby was with me and not with the Kilshaw group. But then, if he was with me, that meant he was dead, too.

  "I'm so sorry, Toby." I hugged my little dog, sniffled into his fur. "I wasn't much of a rescue dog parent. I saved you only to get us both put to sleep."

  A friendly voice interrupted my sad conversation. "Put to sleep?"

  I gave Toby a smooch on the head—an affection he returned with a swipe of his tongue on my cheek—and glanced up at the owner of the voice.

  The man had sunburned white skin, graying brown hair, and a pink bulbous nose that took up half of his face. He pulled on the knees of his overalls as he bent forward to peer down at me from his seat at the counter. A trucker hat with a pest control logo stitched across the front lay on the chrome edged, red vinyl stool beside him.

  "Put to sleep. Killed," I clarified.

  "Goodness. You aren't dead, miss. You're as alive as I am. Unless we're all dead and this is a hallucination playing out in our brains as the last sparks of life energy fizzle out." He tapped his index finger on his chin. "That's always a possibility, I reckon, but not likely. Here, now, I'd better get Laverne to help before I get you all confused." He cupped thick, age-stiffened hands around his mouth and projected his voice without yelling. "Hey, Laverne? Looks like you got a couple new customers."

  I tried to stand but went straight back down on my butt, nearly landing on Toby.

  "Give it a second, kiddo. Takes a minute for your body to catch up with your mind." He broke off a piece of the bacon on his plate and offered it to my dog, who gobbled it down. "Name's Bert. Laverne's in the back. She'll be right out. Who are you?"

  "Loop—Maria. My name is Maria."

  Bert slapped his knee. "Like the Elvis song I just played. Isn't that a coincidence?"

  Not particularly, since Elvis was singing about Marie, not Maria, but I nodded because the man seemed nice and also because I had other things to worry about.

  "You look like you might be staying for a spell." He nodded toward Toby's and my bags. "You got people here in Dead End?" He set the trucker hat on top of his head, gently, the way Dad did when he didn't want a line in his hair.

  "Dead End?"

  "Yep. You're in Dead End now. End of the world, it is. At least, this one. Or maybe it's the beginning." He scratched his ear, dislodging his hat. "I sometimes lose track. Do you have any people, then?"

  No. I didn't have anyone. My mom was dead, and my own father had just abandoned me.

  Then I remembered.

  It was worth a shot. What else were Toby and I going to do?

  "I think my grandpas live here."

  Laverne turned out to be a large woman in a vintage-style red server uniform with a black and white checked apron and thick-soled black shoes. When describing her as large, I didn't mean she was overweight. Only enormously tall, at least six and a half feet, and as thick and solid as the trunk of a sequoia tree.

  After Bert called her for the third time, she had emerged from the kitchen, tying a fresh apron around her waist. Her smile was kind, her brown eyes long lashed and pretty, her brown skin unwrinkled, even though she appeared to be at the latter end of middle age.

  "Heaven's sake, Bert, quit your hollering. I was in the freezer and you know I couldn't hear a banshee scream when I'm in there. Next time, haul your carcass off that stool and come fetch me."

  "Sorry, Laverne." Bert looked sheepish. "This here's Maria and her friend, Toby. Showed up about a minute or so ago. Says she's got kin here."

  Laverne shut one eye and peered down at me. "Kin, huh?"

  I nodded. "My grandpas. At least, I think they live here."

  "Names?"

  "Emilio and Hollister McCain-Flores." I knew that much. Mom had told me about her dads. She'd loved them very much.

  "They do," Laverne said.

  "You know, Maria here reminds me a little of your niece. The one who works the night shift," Bert said.

  I was still sprawled on top of my stuff, on the floor, disoriented. I'd looked behind me, trying to find the door I'd come through, but it was gone. Patrons entered this café from a side door.

  "You do look like my Lucinda. Bit younger." Laverne seized me by the back of my shirt and tossed me into a red vinyl booth. It wasn't a mean sort of toss; it had the feel of a little-too-rough hug. My dog hopped on the seat across from me, tongue lolling at the server as she extracted a pad of paper and a pencil nub from her pocket.

  "Welcome to the One Way Café. Name's Laverne. What can I get you?" She directed her question to Toby. That was strange, but maybe not as strange as allowing a dog in the café in the first place. Most places would have kicked us out by now.

  Toby barked.

  "Sorry, fresh out. Bacon okay?"

  Another bark.

  Was she communicating with him? Okay, yeah, this was definitely stranger than allowing a dog inside a café.

  "Good choice." Laverne looked at me. "And you?"

  I blinked. Stared up at her with my mouth open. "Did… Did you just have a conversation with my dog?"

  "Yes." Laverne cocked an eyebrow. "Why? You the jealous type?"

  What the heck? "No, it's not that, I just—"

  "Good. Now what can I bring you, Miss…"

  "Maria. Just … Maria." I gave up trying to understand things and fell against my seat. "We can't order anything. Toby and I don't have any money."

  "You have a café card?"

  The white card. I patted my pockets. Then I remembered I gave it back to Dad. "I don't think so."

  "Couldn't have gotten here without it. Check your luggage."

  I found the card in the front pocket of Toby's backpack. Dad must have stuck it in there.

  I extended it to her. She peered at it but didn't take it from me. "You've got plenty of money on this card."

  Money? Was it an ATM card? And how could she tell from looking at it? "I do?"

  "Yep. What are you hungry for?"

  "Um, orange juice? Toast?"

  She narrowed her eyes. "I'll bring you eggs, bacon, pancakes. Some of my special blend tea, too. It'll help you make the adjustment to Sanctum. You can get real discombobulated blasting through dimensional doorways if you aren't used to it."

  "Sanctum? Dimensional doorways?"

  "It's all right. Sit quietly and let the truth of your altered existence wash over you. It'll all be set right in no time. You were meant to be here."

  "I was?"

  "Well, if you weren't, you wouldn't be, would you?" She tore off the ticket and tucked the pencil and pad back into her pocket. I was left with the feeling that there was more to Laverne than met the eye.

  While she went to put in our order, I surveyed our surroundings. It freaked me out how the place looked exactly the way the abandoned café had, only clean, new, and inhabited. And minus the front door.

  There weren't many customers in the place. Only Bert and another older man at the counter, two twenty-something women chatting in a corner booth, and a guy in a black sweatshirt hoodie in the booth next to mine. He was lying face down on his hands, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up to cover his face, a cup of untouched coffee on the table in front of him.

  Bert stood, adjusted his overall straps and his cap. "Nice to meet you both, Toby and Maria. I'm sure I'll see you around. Dead End isn't a big town—not this part of it, anyway. The basement at City Hall is another matter." He smiled and I just nodded, because the things he and Laverne said made zero sense to me, and I didn't think I was emotionally ready to hear him explain further.

  As Bert passed the booth of the man with his head down, he reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "You come see me if you need anything."<
br />
  The man nodded without lifting his head, and Bert sighed and walked out.

  Laverne brought breakfast a couple minutes later. She served Toby's in a blue ceramic dog bowl with the words "The Boss" scrawled across it, and served me a blue ceramic plate with enough food on it to feed a large, hungry family.

  "Wow, thank you, but I can't eat all this."

  "Believe me, you'll eat it. Soon as the time shift hits you, you'll be as hungry as a chimera in spring. Then you'll want to hibernate like one." She looked at her wristwatch. It had a white leather band, and the face was shaped like a daisy. "Should hit you right about … now. I'll be back in a bit to refill your tea."

  My stomach dropped into my shoes. Not because I was scared, but because I was freaking starving. In fact, I'd never been so hungry in my entire life and that was saying something, because I once ate a half gallon of rocky road ice cream and still had room for a hamburger and fries.

  I shoveled the pancakes into my mouth, chewing, slurping down orange juice, chomping eggs and bacon, guzzling tea—and I didn't even like tea all that much—until the only things left on my plate were a drop of maple syrup and my licked-clean fork.

  "Oh my gosh, I ate it all." I let out a silent burp. "I'm a pig."

  "It'll go away after a couple of days. The hunger. It's just your body's way of replacing the calories you burned on the trip over. The fatigue is harder to shake." The soft male voice came from the next booth over. The head-down-hoodie-man. Except his head was up now and he wasn't a man at all. He was just a big teenager. A handsome big teenager with wide strong shoulders, dark brown skin, and a flat half-frown on his face.

  "Hi," I said. "I'm Maria and this is Toby." My dog jumped up and peered over the back of the booth seat.

  "Samuel. Where did you come from? On the other side, I mean."

  "An abandoned café a couple of hours west of Tucson, Arizona."

  "Did you see anyone else at the café? A woman?"

  "There was no one there when I arrived. A bunch of bad people showed up after." One especially bad person with silver hair who had better pray I never see him in the flesh or astral form again.