In Shado

IV

My eyes are fixed on the back of the car ahead, and my hands are sweaty against the steering wheel of my hand-me-down sedan.

I glance at the a red light. My hands are sweating.

What if they don't let me in?

The car behind me honks its horn loudly. The light is green, and the road is open before me. I hit the gas.

I didn't tell anyone I was going. That way, it's easier to sneak out, and no one will know about it if something goes wrong.

I turn into the hospital parking lot, pull into a parking spot, and take the keys out. I feel sickly nervous.

Jake and Chris Mathis. Those are their real names. We picked other names in Shado. They said it was tradition. It kept you safe from people finding you in the real world.

I head in and, with the help of the woman at the front desk, I get their room numbers. In a few minutes, I'm looking up at the number beside a slightly ajar door. What if their parents are inside?

I turn back to the door. I feel like I'm going to throw up. What if their parents are inside? Friends? What do I say? Should I knock? Maybe I should turn around before anyone sees me.

Too late. The door gives a tiny squeak as I push it open. My heartbeat practically makes my shirt bounce over my chest. I half hope the room is empty.

"That was quick," a boy says from the bed in the room. He looks at me, then his expression loosens. "Hello."

It's Sal. It's totally him; I can't even deny it. Either I subconsciously made Sal's character to look and sound just like this guy, or we somehow share dreams. It's so weird. He's the first person I met in Shado. He took care of me when I was alone, a little eleven-year-old girl in a big, scary forest where everything looked like it wanted to hurt me.

His bed is at an incline, and his bottom half is covered by a white blanket. A thin flannel hospital gown is loose around his shoulders. A purple-green bruise covers the left side of his face, the eye webbed with red where it should be white. His arm is in a cast, covered with a collage of signatures, the biggest being a bubbly "Abby" with a heart next to it.

Blond hair is close to his head on the sides, slightly longer on top. Blue, almond-shaped eyes rest on high cheekbones on either side of a slightly curved nose over a wide chin.

He's silent, waiting for me to say something.

"Sal?"

His eyebrows drift up, and he grins. "Lu?"

Relief. I nod and settle by his bedside. He's real. Shado's real.

"You're—how...you—"

"Are you okay?"

He's studying my face. An incredulous smile pushes his cheek back. "You should see the other guy."

I bite my lip to keep my excitement from bubbling out. The light from the window makes me squint.

"This is so weird," he finally speaks. "You're not really blond."

I laugh. "No."

"I thought you looked familiar, but I don't think I would've even recognized you if you didn't call me Sal."

We've known each other since I was a kid, but he feels like a stranger.

It still doesn't feel real. Everything they've ever told me about Shado is true.

They said we're "traversers," people who travel in their sleep. Almost everyone in Shado is a traverser. Every person and every animal, even the roamers before they were unable to wake. Until now, I thought everything they told me about traversing was my brain making excuses for the recurring dreams.