While I've never dreamed of being an actor--I'd rather be behind the camera--years of drama class means I'm pretty good at it. Six months on the run, playing roles every day, had helped. Derek has zero natural talent and almost as little inclination to learn, but he did a good job of it that night, probably because he really did think I was making a big mistake, so chewing me out for it came easily.
After our fake fight, I raced down the street and ducked around a building, "hiding" in case Derek came after me. Then, I called Liz. I didn't need a cell phone for that. My former roommate from Lyle House, Liz died a day after I arrived. When I contact her, I'm summoning her spirit.
In the beginning, ghost-Liz was like a friend who lived next door. Give her a shout and there she was. Now it's as if she's in another country, and sometimes I just can't get in touch with her. We haven't grown apart--the distance is actually a good thing, because it means she's crossed over into the afterlife. That's what I had wanted for her. It just took her a long time to want the same thing, to accept she couldn't hang out in our world and pretend nothing had happened. My necromancer powers are strong enough that I can pull her back, but it's like making an overseas call on a bad phone line. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn't. Tonight, when I hoped for her help scouting, no one answered.
After about five minutes, I saw Rae walking along the road, as if there were nothing odd about a sixteen-year-old girl aimlessly wandering an empty street on a Friday night. I backed down the side street. Then, I came running out onto the main one, panting as hard as Rae would remember me panting when we'd escaped Lyle House together. I won't say I'm in amazing shape now, but between playing fetch with Derek and keeping up with Maya, I get a lot more physical activity than I used to. I faked it for Rae, though, heaving like I was about to hack up a lung.
"Rae?"
She didn't turn, and, as I ran toward her, I had to entertain the possibility that my fake scenario with Derek wasn't totally fake after all--that Rae had a doppelganger in North Bay, Ontario. But when I darted into her path, there was no doubt. She was standing three feet from me, and I knew her as well as if it were Tori standing there.
"Rachelle," I said.
She screwed up her face. "Huh?"
"Rae, it's me. Chloe."
"Do I know you?"
I hesitated. "You're Rachelle Rodgers, right?"
Quite possibly the easiest question in the world to answer, but she stood there, giving me this look like I'd asked her to name the capital of Liberia...and getting the right answer was a matter of life or death.
"I...I don't think so. I...can't remember."
"What?"
She looked around. "I don't know what I'm doing here. The last thing I remember..." She shook her head. "I don't know. I think there was a man. Maybe a truck? A van? I...I don't remember."
Amnesia? They were seriously going with the classic--and classically overused--amnesia plot? The chances of someone wandering a street honestly not knowing who she was were--as Derek would point out--statistically improbable. To the nth degree.
She peered at me. "Did you say Chloe?"
"Right. Chloe Saunders. We--"
"I know you, don't I? It's..." Her eyes went wide. "Oh my God, yes. Chloe. Lyle House. We..." Her eyes rounded, and she grabbed my arm. "We need to get out of here."
Uh-huh. I saw that plot twist coming.
She continued. "There are men. They...I don't remember--" She looked around. "Where are we?"
"North Bay, Ontario."
Her face screwed up. It was a good try, but her acting ability is strictly small-town community theater.
Her eyes widened again. "They put me here to find you. Or so you'd find me."
Yep, that'd be my guess.
She looked around, still grasping my arm. "Come on! We need to get out of here!"
I cast a glance down the darkened street. No sign of Derek, but I had to trust he was there. I took off after Rae.
Six
I followed Rae, our footfalls echoing down the empty street. It had rained while we were in the theater. The light drizzle had cleared up before I'd come out, but it had left the road shimmering under the streetlights. Droplets plinked into puddles, adding to the air of desolation. A noir crime-thriller stage. Silent, vacant and hazy with the gauzy sheen of rain.
We passed shop after shop, all of them closed, some permanently. When I strained, I could make out distant music, maybe from a bar, but it was far away. The only place open on this block was the movie theater, and once the shows were on, the streets emptied. I was sure they weren't completely empty, though. Someone was watching us. And I had a good idea where he or she waited: in the direction Rae was leading me.