made me laugh, even helped me to focus, because the phrase was ours .
Besides than my mother and me, only one other person knew that phrase, knew what it meant to me.
“Dad?”
I breathed the word like a prayer. I received one quiet word in acknowledgment:
“Amelia.”
Maybe I should have been more skeptical, demanded more proof. Instead, I started to cry. Because I knew how my father’s voice sounded when he spoke the name he’d helped give me.
“Dad,” I called again, frantic. “Dad, where are you? I’ve been trying to find you. I’ve been trying to—”
“There’s no time, Amelia,” he interrupted. “You have to listen to me. They’re coming.”
Immediately I knew whom he meant. And the warning chilled me just as much as when Eli delivered it last night. But this time I steeled myself against the fear and drew my head up so my father would see—if he could see me at all right now—that his daughter’s backbone had survived her death.
“I know, Dad. That’s why I’m leaving Oklahoma.”
“That’s not enough,” he said. “You have to—but not without—”
The same static interference that had broken up the girl’s voice now distorted my father’s. Like the two of them were speaking on the same radio frequency.
“They want—but it’s hard to—the rivers—mustn’t rise.”
“What? Dad, I can’t hear you. ‘The rivers mustn’t rise’?”
I moved to the right and then the left as I’d seen Joshua do when he wanted to get better cell phone reception. Then I craned my neck up, my face pointed to the sky as if my father’s face might appear there.
No such luck. My father continued to speak, but infuriatingly, I could only catch a few words at a time. Worse, his voice began to fade, the volume lowering until I could barely hear him at all.
“Darlin’, you need to—please—not soon eno—”
His last word faded entirely and, after a long silence, I realized he was gone.
I stood perfectly still, staring at the field of wildflowers without seeing them. My father had tried to warn me about something, that much I knew. Something to do with the demons of High Bridge. Something urgent.
A thin shiver of fear ran through my heart. I’d wanted to contact my father so badly, for so long. But his visit—if that’s what just happened—brought me no comfort. Still, I wanted it to, very much. So for a brief moment, before I tried to analyze what few words he’d given me, I closed my eyes. In the quiet of my own mind, I replayed his warning, if just to hear his voice.
When I opened my eyes, I had the second shock of my already-strange day.
Without any effort on my part, I’d moved again. Instead of a flowering prairie, the window of the SUV faced me. Through it I could see other cars, so close to the SUV that I could touch them if someone opened the window. But these cars weren’t passing us on the highway. They were parked in line outside a long stretch of ancient-looking, cramped-together buildings. I leaned closer to the window, just enough to see the tops of the buildings reaching up to a dark, starry sky.
The cars, the buildings, the night sky—all things that shouldn’t be there, if you considered the fact that the last time I sat in this vehicle there had been nothing to see outside but a midafternoon snowstorm raging over the middle of Nowhere, Texas.
I frowned and then turned toward the interior of the SUV. There, two astonished faces stared back: Jillian, sitting openmouthed and wide-eyed in front of me; and Joshua, looking basically the same, beside me.
Another uncontrolled materialization, I supposed.
I sighed wearily and met his eyes. “How long was I gone this time?” I asked him.
“Gone?” he whispered, frowning. “Amelia, you’ve been right beside me for the last twelve hours.”
Chapter
EIGHT
I opened my mouth to respond to Joshua but then popped it shut. What did he mean, I hadn’t left his side? That wasn’t possible . Not after
Besides than my mother and me, only one other person knew that phrase, knew what it meant to me.
“Dad?”
I breathed the word like a prayer. I received one quiet word in acknowledgment:
“Amelia.”
Maybe I should have been more skeptical, demanded more proof. Instead, I started to cry. Because I knew how my father’s voice sounded when he spoke the name he’d helped give me.
“Dad,” I called again, frantic. “Dad, where are you? I’ve been trying to find you. I’ve been trying to—”
“There’s no time, Amelia,” he interrupted. “You have to listen to me. They’re coming.”
Immediately I knew whom he meant. And the warning chilled me just as much as when Eli delivered it last night. But this time I steeled myself against the fear and drew my head up so my father would see—if he could see me at all right now—that his daughter’s backbone had survived her death.
“I know, Dad. That’s why I’m leaving Oklahoma.”
“That’s not enough,” he said. “You have to—but not without—”
The same static interference that had broken up the girl’s voice now distorted my father’s. Like the two of them were speaking on the same radio frequency.
“They want—but it’s hard to—the rivers—mustn’t rise.”
“What? Dad, I can’t hear you. ‘The rivers mustn’t rise’?”
I moved to the right and then the left as I’d seen Joshua do when he wanted to get better cell phone reception. Then I craned my neck up, my face pointed to the sky as if my father’s face might appear there.
No such luck. My father continued to speak, but infuriatingly, I could only catch a few words at a time. Worse, his voice began to fade, the volume lowering until I could barely hear him at all.
“Darlin’, you need to—please—not soon eno—”
His last word faded entirely and, after a long silence, I realized he was gone.
I stood perfectly still, staring at the field of wildflowers without seeing them. My father had tried to warn me about something, that much I knew. Something to do with the demons of High Bridge. Something urgent.
A thin shiver of fear ran through my heart. I’d wanted to contact my father so badly, for so long. But his visit—if that’s what just happened—brought me no comfort. Still, I wanted it to, very much. So for a brief moment, before I tried to analyze what few words he’d given me, I closed my eyes. In the quiet of my own mind, I replayed his warning, if just to hear his voice.
When I opened my eyes, I had the second shock of my already-strange day.
Without any effort on my part, I’d moved again. Instead of a flowering prairie, the window of the SUV faced me. Through it I could see other cars, so close to the SUV that I could touch them if someone opened the window. But these cars weren’t passing us on the highway. They were parked in line outside a long stretch of ancient-looking, cramped-together buildings. I leaned closer to the window, just enough to see the tops of the buildings reaching up to a dark, starry sky.
The cars, the buildings, the night sky—all things that shouldn’t be there, if you considered the fact that the last time I sat in this vehicle there had been nothing to see outside but a midafternoon snowstorm raging over the middle of Nowhere, Texas.
I frowned and then turned toward the interior of the SUV. There, two astonished faces stared back: Jillian, sitting openmouthed and wide-eyed in front of me; and Joshua, looking basically the same, beside me.
Another uncontrolled materialization, I supposed.
I sighed wearily and met his eyes. “How long was I gone this time?” I asked him.
“Gone?” he whispered, frowning. “Amelia, you’ve been right beside me for the last twelve hours.”
Chapter
EIGHT
I opened my mouth to respond to Joshua but then popped it shut. What did he mean, I hadn’t left his side? That wasn’t possible . Not after
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