Cold Tomorrow

[25]

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The sky is grey. A slab of cold cement, pressing down on the city.

Under it, we drive. I hand out directions to Katherine. I must not remember as well as I thought, because we end up taking the long way, meandering and looping towards our destination.

But we do get there.

The house doesn't look the same in the grey light, I remark. Without the sun lighting up its features, it looks dull and harsh. Its windows look like a set of downcast eyes. Its mouth is grim-looking and locked firmly shut. Go away, it seems to say. No one here is happy.

I get out of the car. "Give me a call if you need a lift home," Katherine tells me before I close the door. I nod.

Katherine drives off as I walk up the door and knock. It's a Sunday, and I realise that there's every chance no one will be home. I mentally slap myself for not thinking of that sooner. Now I'll just be standing deserted on their front porch, waiting for someone to show up.

The universe, however, appears to be working in my favour. The door swings open and when it does, it's not a mother or a father, an aunt or uncle or grandparent. It's not a stranger. It's a light brown-haired boy a little older than myself, with features that strongly resemble those of Lauren.

Harrison looks at me expectantly as I stand silent on his doorstep. Finally, my mouth kicks into gear. "Harrison, right?" I ask. "I – went to your school. I was friends with Lauren, do you remember me?"

He looks at me for a second, his face blank. Slowly, he starts to shake his head. "Sorry, I – not really."

Then I remember. Of course he wouldn't recognise me. When I met him, I still looked as I used to: dark hair, deathly pale skin. This short-haired blonde is a stranger to him.

The air is thick with awkwardness. I try for a laugh to ease the tension. It doesn't come out right. "Sorry, I forgot, we never actually met. Lauren only mentioned you. I'm Maya." I extend a hand.

He takes it. "I would tell you my name but it seems you already know."

Embarrassed, I quickly withdraw my hand. "Yeah, uh, good memory, I guess."

He nods. Time passes. The tension increases.

I open my mouth. "I need to talk to you about Lauren," I say at the same time that he says, "Would you like to come inside?"

Before he can start speaking again, I say, "That'd be nice, thanks."

He draws the door back further to let me in and then closes it behind me. The house is silent. And cold. I wrap my jacket tighter around my body.

Harrison notices me looking around. "Everyone's out at the moment. And Lauren" – he swallows – "she's not–"

"I know," I say, stopping him before he can finish. I can see in his eyes that he's thankful he doesn't have to say it. She's been gone for a month. I can only imagine how much worse it would be if he knew the truth. "That's actually kind of why I'm here."

He looks at me, half intrigued, half apprehensive.

"Maybe we should sit down?"

Harrison swallows. Nods. We take a seat on two brown leather couches, a small wooden coffee table between us. The air smells like dust and lemon. There's a tear in the armrest, and I run my finger mindlessly over the fraying seam.

"So...?"

"This is going to be hard to believe. But your sister depends on you knowing–"

"You've seen her?" he interrupts, leaning forward in his chair. Something like hope flickers in his sky-blue eyes. "You know where she is."

I don't know how to answer. I go with the truth. "Yes. No – or maybe. I'm not sure, okay?"

He ducks his chin. He can sense that the conversation is not going how I wanted. Must have been something in my voice.

My nails have dug into the armrest, I notice, fingers worrying the already torn fabric. I withdraw my hand and hold it in my lap. "This is what you know: Lauren's missing. She's been gone a month. The last anyone saw her was at Kira's party when a woman turned up wielding a gun. She could be dead. No one is completely sure. Now here's the truth..."

-:-:-:-:-

When I finish, he draws back into the couch, letting the cushions comfort him. "You're right," he tells me. "That is hard to believe."

"Not as hard as what comes next."

He surprises me by laughing. There's nothing warm about the sound. "My sister is dead–"

"Was. Was dead."

"My sister was dead and now she's not just alive, but evil. With powers. Nothing that comes next could be harder to accept than that."

I frown and rub my hands over my jeans. "What if I told you she's going to kill someone? Someone close to me?"

"Going to? You know this how?"

Here we go. "Because I saw it. In a vision."

That's it. I've lost him. I see it in his eyes – he's done.

He tips back his head and shakes it, like he's angry at the sky, like he's saying to God, What were you thinking, sending this loon to me? If this is a joke, it's not funny.

When his eyes return to mine, they're clear. "What's the name of my first child?"

"Excuse me?"

"You say you see the future. Then tell me – what's the name of my first child?"

I'm shaking my head. "It doesn't work like that."

"Then do something. Prove it."

"I can't," I say, annoyance sparking inside me. Why does everyone always want proof? Maybe this whole thing was pointless. Maybe the future is already set in stone and I'm wasting my time trying to change it. When have my visions ever not been one hundred percent correct? What am I doing here?

"Look. I can see I'm bothering you. I'll go." I stand.

But as I take a step towards the door, he surprises me once again by leaping up and grabbing my wrist. "No, please. Don't go."

"If you're not going to believe what I'm telling you, there's no point. You're pretty much the only shot we've got at saving my friend and Lauren. If you don't believe, you can't help us. And if you don't help us, they're going to resort to...to more severe measures."

"What do you mean?" Harrison is still holding my wrist. His hand is cold – like his house. Now his grip tightens.

"I mean, if Lauren can't be saved, she'll be killed."

There's a punch of silence as my words are absorbed by the air.

Harrison lets go, falling a step back. If a breeze were to nudge him right now, one would think it would knock him over. He tips his eyes up to the sky again. Like an old habit from Sunday school. Like a reminder that the world hasn't been left to it's own devices, not yet. Like a prayer, a plea.

He returns to earth. "What do you need me to do?"

A/N

Updates are officially weekly from now on -- and hopefully until I finish this book.

We're approaching the final stretch!

Thanks for reading,
Shaye <3