The front door opened, and Krista stumbled inside, soaked to the bone.
“The visitors what?” I said, dropping the walkie-talkie on the floor. “What about them?”
Krista gulped, bracing one hand on the entryway table. “We have a situation,” she said. “The visitors have taken over the town square.”
Even knowing how overcrowded the island had become, nothing could have prepared me for the horde that greeted us when we reached the town square. The visitors covered every inch of the park, some standing on benches, others clumped around lampposts. People streamed out of the general store to join the throng, standing on their toes and craning their necks even in the driving rain, trying to see what was going on.
Up front, of course, were the Tses, standing near the stone rim around the swan fountain, holding court with a willing group of visitors. From this distance, I couldn’t hear them, but Sebastian gestured angrily with his hands, and a few members of his audience nodded, agreeing with whatever he was saying.
“Damn. This doesn’t look good.” Tristan stopped at the corner of Freesia Lane and the square, his face going pale.
Joaquin, Fisher, and Kevin skirted around the edge of the crowd, catching angry looks from a group of young men in ponchos as they jogged over to join us. Ursula and Chief Grantz slipped away from the grocery stand to gather behind us as well.
“Kevin!” Krista exclaimed. “You’re alive!”
“Yeah, I’m fine. When the fog came in and I lost Liam, I figured I’d head home to wait it out,” he said. “I must have fallen asleep. Sorry. Joaquin told me you guys were worried about me.”
“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Tristan said, clapping him on the shoulder.
A few other Lifers circumvented the park, sticking to the outer sidewalks, and joined us, everyone drawn to Tristan like moths to a flame. Lauren and Bea jogged over from the direction of the docks.
“Speaking of Liam,” Fisher said, “we have a problem.” He took a breath and held it for a second before delivering the news. “He’s gone.”
“Gone?” I exclaimed. “How?”
“Officer Dorn had my key. He left his post for five seconds when some visitors came into the station, demanding to make long-distance calls,” Grantz said. “When he got back down there, Liam was gone, and it was only then that he noticed the key was gone, too. Someone let him out. But of course Pete’s not talking, so…”
Tristan paced away from us, his fists shaking at his sides. His hair was slicked down across his forehead, and the rash guard he’d had on ever since we’d left the beach clung to his chest in the rain.
“Who the hell is doing this?” he demanded.
“I’d say at this point, that’s only one of our problems,” Fisher said, eyeing the crowd.
“Why don’t we just start ushering them?” Ursula suggested, lifting a tissue to her nose to cover a sneeze. “Some of them are ready to cross, and if we could thin out the crowd…”
“We can’t,” Joaquin told her. “We ran out of coins earlier. No one’s leaving here anytime soon.”
“Okay,” Tristan said, gathering himself. “First things first. We have to find Liam. Bea, Rory, you get twenty or so people together and fan out to search the island. He doesn’t know it as well as we do, so it shouldn’t take long to find him. Fisher and Kevin, get a dozen of our biggest guys and get up to the bridge. Whatever happens today, he’s not bringing any more innocent souls to the Shadowlands.”
“Don’t you want me here for crowd control?” Fisher asked, shoving his fist into his open palm.
“Dorn, Grantz, Joaquin, and I will handle it,” Tristan said. He looked over at the burgeoning mob, who let out a cheer at something Sebastian had just said. “I’m going to go talk to them.”
“What are you going to say?” Joaquin asked.
“I’ll figure it out. And if it doesn’t work, we could always try using the soothing power on them. Between the four of us, we should be able to subdue the worst of them. We’ll just infiltrate the park and start working the crowd.” Tristan glanced at Fisher and Bea. “We’re wasting time. Go!”
“We’re on it, T,” Fisher said. He lifted his dark hood over his head and led the others over to a line of waiting trucks and cars parked down one of the side streets, their headlights shining through the rain as their windshield wipers flapped frantically.
“This is my fault,” Krista said, shifting from foot to foot under the waterlogged awning. “I should have stayed at the station to relieve Dorn if he needed me. I was just so tired, and he told me to go home.…”
“Krista, it’s okay.” Tristan gripped her shoulder, and she stopped wavering. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
He looked up at me, a raindrop working its way down his cheek like a tear. “You didn’t want to go with Bea?”
“I’d rather stay close to you,” I said, glancing around warily as a pair of visitors slowly walked by, staring us down.
Tristan reached out and squeezed my hand. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Krista and I chorused.
He gave a nod to the men, and Grantz and Joaquin fell into step behind him as he crossed the street toward the park. Joaquin lifted his radio and told Dorn to join them. Krista grabbed my hand to tug me toward the police station. Its marble columns faced the back of the swan fountain, and as we climbed the steps I realized the brilliance of her plan. From here we would be dry under the station’s stone overhang and still see everything, including Tristan as he stepped up next to Sebastian.
“Rory?” Krista said, shivering next to me as Tristan put his hand on Sebastian’s back. “I’m scared.”
I nodded, my teeth chattering. “Me too.”
She squeezed my hand as Tristan hopped up onto the fountain’s edge so that he was a couple of heads above the crowd. He lifted both of his hands, trying to quiet the din. Suddenly the doors behind us burst open, and Dorn barreled out, rushing down the stairs to join Grantz and Joaquin at the fountain.
“Please, everyone!” Tristan called out. “Please, calm down.”
“Who the hell are you?” the large bearded man from the twins’ boarding house shouted.
“My name is Tristan Parrish,” he replied. “I’m the mayor’s son. And I’d be glad to answer your questions and hear your concerns.”
The crowd roared, everyone trying to speak at once. Sebastian and Selma exchanged a glance behind Tristan’s back.
“Now, you know I can’t understand any of you if everyone talks at the same time,” Tristan said with a casual, indulgent smile. “If you wouldn’t mind raising your hands, I can repeat your question for everyone to hear and then do my best to answer it.”
Three dozen hands shot into the air.
“He’s good,” I said under my breath.
“Yeah, but how good?” Krista asked, her knees knocking together beneath her white raincoat. She glanced back over her shoulder at the double doors to the station. “Um…Rory? Is anyone with Pete right now?”
My heart dropped into my toes. Someone had Grantz’s key. Whoever it was could be doubling back there right now to let Pete out, too.
“Let’s go.”
Krista grabbed my hand as we tore inside the police station, our sneakers squealing and squishing the whole way across the marble lobby. Together we ran down the hallway, and I yanked open the door. My lungs released a relieved sigh when I saw that Pete was still there, still sitting on the floor with his arms around his legs. A streak of dirt cut across one cheek, and his eyes looked bloodshot. He glanced up at us as we walked in, following Krista with his eyes as she slipped by me to perch on a stool in the far corner.
“Good. You’re still here,” I said.
“Where would I go?”
I froze at the sound of his voice, low and crackly and dry. This was the first time anyone had heard him spe
ak since Thursday night. My pulse throbbed inside every inch of my skin. This was my chance. The chance I’d been waiting for. I dropped to my knees and gripped the bars in front of me. They were so cold my fingers ached.
“Pete, how did Liam get out?” I demanded. “Did someone help him? Did he tell you where he was going?”
Pete ever so slowly peeled his eyes off Krista and slid his gaze to my feet.
“No.”
“Pete, come on. Enough is enough,” I said. “Don’t you want to talk? Don’t you want to tell someone what’s going on? Don’t you want to get the hell out of here?”
He bit his lip and stared. There was something so vulnerable about him, so malleable, and I realized suddenly—that was exactly what Pete was. He’d been the last young Lifer to arrive here before Krista, who was the last to arrive before me, Darcy, and Liam. He was still just a kid like me. Someone who had been promised something he sorely wanted. Suddenly, my heart went out to him. Even with everything he had done, he was still one of us. He was still human.
“Darcy was always nice to you, wasn’t she, Pete?” I said quietly. “She laughed at your jokes, she thought you were fun, and she loved your music.”
Pete’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I could see something shifting within them. He was starting to cave. I clung to the bars and held my breath.
“She doesn’t deserve what she’s suffering right now, Pete. You know it. I know it. But only you know how to get her back. Please, just tell me how to save my sister.”
Pete pressed his lips together. His grip on his arms tightened. Outside, muted by the thick walls, a communal jeer went up from the crowd. I darted a glance at Krista, who looked as worried as I was. Time was slipping away from us, faster and faster and faster. If we didn’t fix this soon, those people out there were going to make what happened with Jessica look like a cakewalk.
“You just got in over your head a little bit,” I said to Pete, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “You believed a promise someone made to you, and it forced you to do bad things. But if you help me, you’re going to redeem yourself in everyone’s eyes.” I took a shaky breath. “If you help me, I’ll help you. I’ll speak for you with the others.”
Pete swallowed. He rested his chin atop his arm and stared straight ahead. Not at me, not at Krista. At nothing.
“Eighteen paces,” he said quietly.
Krista stood up, the stool screeching against the floor and knocking back against the wall. “What?”
Pete was still as stone. “You have to walk exactly eighteen paces onto the bridge,” he said. “Then turn to the left and whisper the worst sin you committed in life. That’s how you open the door to the Shadowlands.”
I stood up, every cell in my body on fire. “That’s it?”
“As long as you tell the truth, the door will open,” Pete said, hazarding a glance at my face. He sniffled and rubbed his nose.
The surprise inside me manifested itself into one big, choking laugh.
“And then? How do we get the innocents out?” I asked.
“If a Lifer opens the door on purpose, for pure intentions or whatever, anyone who doesn’t belong in the Shadowlands will be set free.”
“Are you sure that’s all we have to do?” I asked, my skin on fire with anticipation. “There’s no price?”
“Nope. I guess the powers that be or whatever figured no Lifer would ever be crazy enough to try it.”
“Well, this one is.” I dropped to my knees again to be at eye level with him. “Thank you, Pete. Honestly. You have no idea what this means to me.” I reached out and clasped his forearm. “Thank you.”
Then I jumped up and grabbed the door handle. “Let’s go!”
“What? No way,” Krista replied. “You’re totally out of your mind. Who says he’s telling the truth? Who says you’re not gonna just get sucked into the Shadowlands, too?”
“Krista—”
“No. There’s no way I’m letting you do this without backup,” she said, shaking her head as she tugged out her walkie-talkie. She hit the button to speak, but I closed the gap between us with one long stride and grabbed her arm.
“Don’t.”
“Rory.”
“Krista, they’re going to try to stop me, and I won’t let them.” I snatched the walkie-talkie out of her hand and turned it off. “I’m going to the bridge, and I’m going to get my family back.”
I stared her straight in the eye. “Now, are you coming with me or not?”
“Please don’t do this, Rory. Please. You’re my best friend on this stupid island. I don’t want you to get stuck in the Shadowlands.”
“I won’t, Krista,” I told her, even though, technically, I had no idea what was about to happen.
Her cold fingers closed around my wrist as we slipped out the back door of the police station. The mayor’s car was parked just a few yards away. “How do you know that?”
My stomach clenched and I braced myself, trying not to look as terrified as I felt. “I just do,” I lied.
Another loud roar of anger went up from the crowd out front. Krista and I both froze, and my knees went weak. Tristan had lost them somehow. My eyes darted toward the front of the building, and I hesitated.
“Tristan?” Krista breathed.
I clenched my jaw. This was not the time to go running to my boyfriend’s side. I finally had the information I needed to save my father and Darcy. We each had a role to play, and mine was not here in town. It was up at the bridge. If I could just get there, if I could just free my family and the other innocent souls, everything would go back to normal. We could usher the visitors and set things right.
“We can’t help him,” I said. Someone shrieked angrily and a cheer rose up. “If anything goes wrong, they’ll get him somewhere safe. Don’t worry. Now, give me the keys.”
Krista’s eyes were wide and teary. “Please, Rory. Don’t make me. If something happens to you—”
“Give me the keys!” I snapped, frustrated.
Krista flinched, and a single, fat tear rolled down her face. She sniffled and drew the keys out of her pocket. Guilt consumed me, but I still snatched them away from her.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I said, heading for the car. “The sooner I get up there, the sooner this is over.”
Krista hesitated, looking back and forth between me and the front of the building, as if she could see what was going on with Tristan. I had a feeling that, in the back of her mind, she was wondering whether she could get through the town square and up to her house alive so that she could hide under the covers until someone came to tell her everything was okay. Then another roar of ire rose up, and she bolted toward the car. When she climbed in beside me, she was soaking wet and crying.
I bit down on my tongue, gunned the engine, and headed for the hills.
“No way, Rory. Not gonna happen.”
Fisher proved to be a tough sell on the whole opening the door to the Shadowlands question. He stood between me and the bridge like my personal Great Wall of China, his legs planted firmly apart, his massive arms crossed over his chest as rain poured freely over his closely-shaved head and down his face and into the collar of his T-shirt. The guy had lost the jacket at some point, and now stood there with nothing but the gray tee sucked to his every muscle, and cargo pants that were soaked through to a dark shade of green. In another life, this guy could have made a killing as a professional wrestler. He just needed to get himself a few well-placed tattoos and a stupid nickname, and he was gold.
“Fisher, don’t you want me to get Darcy back?” I asked, trying to bite back the frustration simmering inside me. “She’s being tortured right now. While you’re just standing there.”
Kevin and the other guys were lined up next to Fisher like a barricade, but none of them were quite as intimidating. Without Tristan or Joa
quin here, Fisher was the de facto leader, and I knew that if I could get through to him, the others wouldn’t fight me. I glanced sidelong at Krista. Her white rain jacket was snapped up to her chin, the hood forming a perfect O around her face with the laces pulled taut. She looked like she would rather be anywhere other than here.
“Look, my orders were not to let anyone over the bridge, so I’m not letting anyone over the bridge,” Fisher told me.
“Well, there you go!” Krista said, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go back to my house.”
I snatched my fingers away. An impressive fork of lightning split the sky behind Fisher, and a crack of thunder quickly followed, causing Krista to yelp.
“But I’m not just anyone,” I replied, clenching my fists, the skin on my hands so raw it tightened to near cracking. “I’m the person Pete finally talked to.”
Fisher narrowed his eyes and reset his stance, looking down his nose at me like he was the commanding officer and I was some pissant private challenging his authority.
“Right. And how am I supposed to know that for sure, exactly?” he asked. “How do I know you’re not just making this up?”
Now I glared at Krista. It was way past time for her to speak up. But she just looked at me, her blue eyes wide like a startled rabbit’s.
“Tell him, Krista!” I demanded. “Tell him what you heard.”
Krista looked at the ground. “He said that if we opened the door, the innocents would be released,” she mumbled. “But I don’t get why it has to be you, Rory!” she whined, suddenly full of life. “Can’t we send one of the older Lifers over? Someone who doesn’t have friends or a family or—”
“We don’t have time to start looking for a willing guinea pig!” I interjected. “Don’t you get it? It’s my family in there. My best friend. We have to do this now.”
A few of the other guys heard this and started to whisper, looking at us with a new sort of respect. Possibly awe.
Suddenly, Krista’s face hardened into a sort of resolute mask of fear. “Fine. Then I’m coming with you.”