Incandescence

11: Nightmares

You know that feeling you get when you've been on a ride too many at the theme park? When the whole world is revolving rapidly on its axis and you can't find your footing. When that hamburger you just ate is forcing its way back up your gullet, ready to make an appearance over your lucky companion's shirt. It's happening to me now. The room and walls are spinning and my head sears, faces around me blurring as my eyes are sucked in by the gravitational pull of Daniel's drawing.

I'm going to faint. Or be sick. Or both.

"It's not what you think," Daniel says, and I snap my head up at the defensive tone of his voice. Gone is the calm stranger with his enigmatic smiles. Now his lips are parted, a stream of protests gushing out. But none of his words can explain the horror lying in front of me.

I push my chair back and stand. I try to speak but nothing comes out. My mind buzzes with thoughts, but the connection between my brain and mouth has been lost and the flight instinct's kicking in.

"April –"

I'm off before he can finish the sentence, shoving my way out the coffee shop and sprinting as soon as my feet touch the pavement. What am I doing? I don't know anymore. I wanted answers but not at this price. The image of that girl sprawled in a pool of her blood flashes before my eyes, too vivid to ignore.

Lifeless and branded, just like Mason.

I pause to catch a breath, bracing my hand against a wall. It's no use. I can't hold myself up. Something blurry rushes toward me –

And then something pulls me back up.

"It's okay, I've got you," a reassuring voice says at my ear, and all at once reason restores itself.

"Get away from me." I push away from Daniel, who's standing beside me with his book and my phone in hand.

"I'm not gonna hurt –"

"I said get away!"

He holds out my phone. I snatch it from him, backing away. My eyes scour the street for signs of life. There's a couple several feet away, but their backs are turned and they pay us no attention. No one pays us any attention. If he wanted to do something to me here, he could, unless I got a head-start. But Daniel makes no sudden movements. He holds his hands out. A symbol of peace.

"April –"

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Don't play pretend with me." I nod at his sketchbook. "That sick drawing of yours: you included the branding."

His eyebrows furrow. "You know something about that?"

"It's what they did to him. Right after they killed him."

"Killed who?"

"Stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about! Whoever you're working for got to Mason, and now they're coming for me." Is that why they sent him here? Is he going to carry out the deed himself? My pulse hammers and the nausea returns, stronger than before. Trusting strangers never ends well – shouldn't I know that by now?

"You've got this all wrong," Daniel says. "Look, I can explain –"

"You can explain to the cops once they have you behind bars."

"I'm not the bad guy here, April. I don't know anything about this Mason guy or whatever happened to him, but if they left him with those brandings then he's not the only one." He cups the back of his neck, then lowers his voice and says, "I just draw what I see, okay? I thought you'd get that."