I Am Never Alone Page 2

  “I promise,” I sighed.

  He nodded, leaning back against the counter again. “Good. I’m going to hold you to that.”

  I closed the cupboard door on my precious stash, my mood soaring knowing it was there. My stomach was rumbling with hunger, I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten.

  “I should get going,” Jet said as he slowly started for the door. “I’ll be back soon and you know where to find me if you need me beforehand. The mole people won’t hurt you.”

  I wanted to laugh because the mole people had already tried to kill me at least once. I didn’t have as much faith in the people that lived underground as Jet did. Even though they respected Jet’s declaration that I ‘belonged to him’ – a term I still loathed – it wouldn’t take much for one of them to decide not to listen anymore.

  Just like Taz had done.

  As Jet reached the door, I had a panicked thought run through my mind. “Jet, do you know where to find Kostucha?”

  Kostucha was still an enigma to me, although I had more than a fleeting suspicion Jet knew him well. He was the man responsible for the handful of adults that had survived the Event and lived deep underground, after all.

  He stopped in his tracks, not turning around and still facing the door. “That’s what you’ve been doing these last few weeks? You’ve been chasing Kostucha?”

  “Not exactly chasing him. I have no idea where to start looking. I’d hoped you’d know.”

  Jet spun around slowly, like he was deliberately controlling every one of his movements. “Do you want to die? Because death is the only thing you will find. It’s a fool’s errand.”

  “I’m not a fool.”

  His hands clenched into fists at his side. “Then forget about it. I wouldn’t tell you where he is, even if I did know.”

  “So you don’t know?” I studied every one of his features, from his strong jaw line to his teeth chewing on his bottom lip to his eyebrows knitted together with concern. I searched every one of them for proof he was lying.

  I couldn’t find any.

  “I don’t know,” he repeated. “Everly, you have no reason to hunt down a demon. Just forget all about it. Please.”

  Demon?

  Nobody said anything about a demon.

  A quick glance at Oliver as he stood with arms crossed between us told me he already knew.

  “Kostucha is a demon?” I didn’t manage to succeed in hiding the surprise from my voice. I went back to studying his expressive face.

  “Forget about it,” Jet warned.

  He turned to leave. I ran across the room and stood against the door, stopping him. “Why are you so scared of telling me what you know? I need this. I need this, Jet, more than you know.”

  His hand remained on the knob as his eyes refused to meet mine. “You need to stay safe and I’m not going to do anything that wouldn’t be conducive to that.”

  “You’re not my mother,” I said, sounding more like a little girl than I intended. There was something about Jet that brought out everything I tried to hide.

  “And I don’t owe you anything.” The words were so quiet, I wouldn’t have been able to hear them if we weren’t standing so close. “Get out of my way, princess.”

  His eyes flicked to mine, burning with anger. All the fear I once felt for him resurfaced. It bubbled to my consciousness, making a home there and telling me to get out of his way.

  I moved from the door.

  Jet left without another word.

  When the door slammed shut, I locked it. That single act didn’t make me feel even one little bit better. I slumped to the floor, leaning against the door and feeling the slight breeze underneath.

  Oliver sat next to me. “You should give the guy a break.”

  “Are you kidding? He tried to kill me.”

  “He had nothing to do with what happened at the factory, you know that.”

  My gaze rose to meet Oliver’s. His soft green eyes were amused, sparkling with trouble behind them. In all honesty, I did know Jet was innocent. His gang had acted without his knowledge, tying me up and then trying to burn me alive. His actions afterwards proved that to me.

  But a part of me found it so much easier to blame Jet for the whole thing. It gave me something to focus on, someone that I could funnel all my hatred and loathing into. If it wasn’t Jet responsible, then I would have to accept he was being nice to me.

  And that would be a lie.

  Because boys like Jet weren’t nice for no reason. They were selfish and manipulative, you just had to figure out their game. And I couldn’t figure out Jet’s. Which was more frustrating and difficult than simply hating him.

  “So when did you suddenly join Jet’s fan club?” I asked, successfully dodging the topic that was hitting too close to home.

  Oliver shrugged, the smile never leaving his beautiful face. “He’s trying to keep you safe. The moment he did that, he warmed to me.”

  “He’s playing an angle.”

  “I don’t think he is.”

  Oliver was never good at spotting liars and cheats. His heart was too innocent to believe the worst of people. It was one of the things so endearing about him.

  It was time for another topic change. “I think Kostucha is connected to the Event.”

  “How so?”

  “Jet said Kostucha was the reason why the adults were still alive, even after the Event. If he managed to keep their hearts beating, then he could be the reason why all the other adults died too.”

  Oliver stared at the ceiling while he processed the thoughts surely swirling around in his head. They had done nothing but fly around in my own mind for the last two weeks. It felt like there were so many dots that needed connecting for everything to make sense that it was an unsolvable puzzle.

  His eyes returned to me. “You think he has the power over who lives and who dies?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted.

  “If he’s somehow connected to the Event, do you think he might also be responsible for keeping all the spirits earthbound?”

  Now it was my turn to give some time to the thoughts. Really, it didn’t need much time. “It’s possible. The adults, the spirits, the Event, it might all be some web he’s woven. He is a demon, after all. It sounds like something evil. Surely there can be no good in those actions.”

  If the Event wasn’t an act of evil, then I was at a loss as to what would be considered evil. It had started off as a normal day, giving away nothing of the massive devastation that would follow.

  I had been at school all day. Sitting through boring classes, hanging out with Oliver afterwards. I was home for dinner – but only just in time. My sister, Faith, my mother, my father, and I all sat at the dinner table enjoying our family time which was a tradition. No matter what else we did with our time, we always had to be home for dinner.

  I used to hate having to be home by six o’clock. There were so many times I had tried to wriggle out of the family dinner so I could hang out with my friends. Looking back now, I was so grateful my parents had never budged on their tradition. I treasured those memories now.

  Our last meal together was exactly as expected. Faith rattled on about things that didn’t matter to me and my parents talked about work and plans for the weekend – plans that would never eventuate.

  It was just after eight o’clock when it happened. Even if I managed to live to a hundred years old, I would never be able to forget those moments.

  The noise was the worst thing.

  A high pitched sound, like microphone feedback mixed with fingernails on a chalkboard, and then teamed with the shrillest scream possible. My hands had flung up to cover my ears but nothing could drown out that sound.

  I had jumped off my bed to run to my parents, hoping for some answers about what was causing the horrible sound. They were in the kitchen, they had been finishing the dishes. Both of them were crouched down on the floor, clutching their heads.

  It was worse for the adults.
It wasn’t just noise, it was pain and hurt and everything horrible in the world, all at once.

  And then the life slipped from them.

  Blood streamed down their nose and ears as they fell to the floor. Their vacant eyes rolled back in their heads when I tried to shake them into waking up.

  They never woke up.

  Even when Faith joined me and screamed for them. Even when my tears fell onto their faces. Even when our begging and pleading reached screeching proportions.

  They were gone.

  I had never realized how fragile life was before that moment. I thought we were all invincible.

  I was so very, very wrong.

  When my sensibilities kicked in, I found a phone and called for an ambulance, still clutching to the hope they could be saved.

  Nobody answered the call. I handed Faith the phone, screaming at her to keep calling, that someone would have to answer eventually and arrive to save them.

  I rushed out of the apartment, taking the stairs because it was faster than waiting for the elevator. I ran out into the street, ready to open my lungs and scream for help. I would make so much noise that somebody would have to come. Somebody would have to take this nightmare away.

  When I reached the pavement, I saw I wasn’t alone. Kids everywhere, all with the same desperation dripping from their faces, were running around. Most were crying, all were in a solid state of confusion.

  Oliver was amongst them.

  He met me in the middle of the street, wrapping me in his arms – probably for the first time ever. We had sobbed out our stories, realizing they were exactly the same.

  Our parents were dead.

  As were everyone else’s.

  With all the adults deceased, it took us a while to figure out what was happening. All the television stations went off air, nobody updated websites with breaking news. We had to piece all the parts of the puzzle together, our young brains finding it difficult to get them to fit into place.

  We eventually did, working out the only ones left in the world were all under the age of eighteen.

  If I didn’t have Oliver during those days, I don’t think I would have been able to function. He kept me focused on surviving, helping me put aside my grief to look after Faith and myself. In a way, he still was to this day.

  Seeing the spirits had started a few days after the Event. At first, it was like seeing a flickering light out of the corner of my eye. Then they became human-shaped. A few days later I was able to see them like I would a real person. Hear them, too. They had cried to me every day from that moment onwards.

  I’d always been able to see spirits. But it was only the occasional one here and there. The sheer number after the Event was shocking.

  Remembering that time was not something I did very often these days. Every time I did, the grief crept over me in waves, ebbing up and down, threatening to consume me once more.

  Thinking about my missing sister was even worse. I had a chance to protect her and I didn’t. She had disappeared when I was supposed to be looking after her. Gone, just like that in the blink of an eye.

  And no matter what I did, I couldn’t find her.

  She simply vanished into thin air.

  “You should get some sleep,” Oliver said, his voice pulling me out of my memories. He anchored me back in place, saving me once again.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked. Oliver didn’t need to sleep. Although, he was excellent at pretending to do it. I pushed that bitter thought away.

  “I’ll stay here. I’m not going to leave you.”

  I yawned, suddenly so tired. I wanted to lean against him, rest my head on his warm shoulder, and sleep all night. But I would only feel the coldness of his spirit and go right through him, giving us both a horrible chill.

  I curled up on the floor instead, away from the door so the breeze couldn’t get to me. “Goodnight, Oliver.”

  “Sleep tight.”

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  “I love you, too.”

  They were the only words I needed to hear before allowing myself to fall into the deep abyss of sleep.

  Chapter Three

  I had awoken with a purpose. Staying in the warm and safe apartment was too much of a temptation to forget about my mission. But just looking at Oliver, knowing he was trapped in a spirit purgatory, reminded me how important it was that I kept moving.

  All I had was a hunch that everything was connected but it was enough to get me going. I knew Kostucha was a demon and I couldn’t think of a better way to find out more about him than doing research.

  Of course, shaking the truth out of Jet might have worked too. But I would have to call that Plan B.

  The city’s public library wasn’t in the best shape of its life. Many of the windows were broken, letting in the wind and snow. Because it was so big and breezy, kids had largely left it alone. I had no doubts it had been ransacked at some stage for supplies, but nobody really cared about the books. Reading for pleasure was a luxury that didn’t exist these days.

  Oliver had walked me through the city, keeping me company the entire time. But he couldn’t touch the books so he couldn’t help with the actual research. He left me there while he went and helped some of the newer spirits adjust to their death. He would return before nightfall to collect me.

  Even while going through musty books that hadn’t been opened in years, it felt good. I was actually doing something, perhaps inching closer to solving our problems in some small way. It was enough to keep me going.

  A few spirits had followed me in. They were desperately trying to engage me in conversation, pleading with me to help them, but I tuned them out. What they didn’t realize was ignoring them was my way of helping them. It was all I could do to help them right now.

  “Please listen to me.”

  “She’s not going to.”

  “But she can see us.”

  “So? Doesn’t mean she’s actually going to hear you.”

  “She can hear me, I know she can.”

  “Then why isn’t she talking?”

  “Because she doesn’t want-” His words were cut off, making me look up. I was used to their constant chatter, I wasn’t used to them being silenced.

  He was gone. The spirit that had shadowed me six blocks to the library was gone in the flash of a gray light. The female spirit beside him stood wide-eyed, mirroring my own look of disbelief.

  “Where did he go?” I asked.

  She looked at me, smug with the knowledge she had caught me listening. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  I ignored her attitude, I had bigger problems. “Can you do that? Choose to vanish into thin air?”

  The woman shrugged, she couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old. “Not that I know of. Do you think he’s crossed over? That we can do that now?” She squeezed her eyes closed, concentrating. Whatever she was trying to do, she failed, opening her eyes again. “Still here.”

  “Have you seen this before?”

  She shrugged again. It was starting to get old. “I don’t think so. Are you really going to help us?”

  “I’m trying.”

  She looked around at all the dusty shelves. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  She walked off before I could admit I had no idea what I was doing. Not one little iota of an idea.

  My fingers ran over the spines of the books, collecting dust as they moved. The moment someone realized they could be burned for warmth in the cold, they would be taken quickly. It was lucky nobody had considered it yet. Or perhaps the kids were still a little afraid of the librarian.

  She had been watching me since I stepped foot into the place. She wore a grimace that was probably permanent even before the Event, and her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a stern bun at the top of her head. She wasn’t as old as I expected, probably only in her thirties. She was taking her job as book keeper seriously, even in her death.

  I ignored the woman as I moved. She
had seen me talking to the other spirits so she knew I could actually see her. But, for whatever reason, she decided she had nothing to say to me.

  Good.

  That’s the way I preferred it.

  Walking through the stacks, I ignored all the fiction novels. As much as I would have loved to escape into someone else’s story, they were useless to me now. What good was reading about vampires and demons when I was living the nightmare in real life? Fictional monsters were nothing to the real things.

  Non-fiction was the section I headed for. It was located deep in the back of the library, like they were hidden away because they kept all the secrets of the universe. I wished that were true.

  I quickly discounted all the fairytale books, I needed something more hardcore. If there was any chance I could find something about Kostucha, I needed some kind of Wiccan or supernatural reading.

  Unfortunately, there was little of either.

  The few books I could find dwelled on either the history of the Wiccan religion or told of unsubstantiated ghost stories. If there was one thing I didn’t need, it was campfire tales of ghosts. I had enough of my own.

  I’d lost count of how many times I had sneezed from the dust and my nose wouldn’t stop itching. Still, I continued on through the pages, hoping the information I needed was just beyond the next leaf.

  “You’re not going to find what you’re looking for in there.” The woman’s voice startled me. My heart stopped for a beat, thundering to make up ground when it restarted again.

  I looked up to see the librarian hovering next to the desk. Her forehead was wrinkled with her pinched features. She reminded me of a bird, ready to take flight at the first sign of trouble.

  “What am I looking for?” I asked.

  “Answers.”

  All the hairs on the back of my neck sprung to life, sending goosebumps down my arms. There was something decidedly creepy about the woman which I’m sure had nothing to do with the fact she was dead.

  I could play her game, too. “Do you know where I will find the answers I’m looking for?”

  Her eyes were such a light shade of gray that they blurred the edges of where her irises ended and the eyeballs began. It was difficult looking at them for too long.