I crept through the trailer park in my car, careful not to kick up any gravel. My stomach performed a cartwheel as I neared the house; Tabitha’s car was in the driveway. A wave of dizziness muddled my mind as I pulled in and parked. Was it too late to back out of this whole fugitive thing Dom and I had going on? I hoped he found a place to hide before she came home. Inhaling and exhaling, I mentally told myself, You can do this.
Tabitha hadn’t spoken to me since she left work and picked me up from jail a few days ago. But honestly, it wasn’t like I had time to speak with her; I’d been pretty busy. Now, she definitely wouldn’t see me for awhile. I needed to let her know that I’d be okay and wouldn’t be home for some time, but I wasn’t sure how she’d take it. For the most part, she acted like she could care less where I was, or who I was with. But that was a lie. She wouldn’t be concerned about my school attendance, or whether or not I had a boyfriend, if she didn’t care. Her brief glimpses of concern reminded me she was once a normal person before the Ministry got their hands on her.
I gasped when I entered the house. Dom and Tabitha were sitting on our threadbare couch, laughing.
“Oh, there you are,” Tabitha said, waving me over toward the two of them. “I’m disappointed in you, Kearly. You told me the other day that you didn’t have a boyfriend, and here he is, in the flesh. Are you embarrassed? Is that what it is?”
I pursed my lips.
“Because if you had just cleaned up the place, then I wouldn’t have minded if he came over.”
An awkward silence ensued. My mind raced with questions. Boyfriend? Oh, please. He was anything but. He knew it, and so did I. What had he said to Tabitha to make her believe he was my significant other? I glared at him.
Dom ignored my intense look and intervened before I could speak. “I was just telling your mom that I may come over here from now on, just to see her.” He flashed his pearly whites.
Tabitha giggled like she was fifteen again.
What the hell? Had I entered an alternate dimension? Like the last week of my life wasn’t weird enough…
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t fall for his stupid one-liners. They suck.”
Dom’s eyebrows rose. “I’m a little confused. Is that bitterness talking? Because it didn’t take much for you to fall for them.”
My fingernails cut into my palms, and I gritted my teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really?” Dom said, glaring. “Do you need a refresher? Maybe this time I’ll actually leave you with a little souvenir so the next time won’t be such a haze.”
Tabitha glanced back and forth between Dom and me. “Ummm, well, I need to be going. David’s expecting me. I don’t have to work tonight, and I won’t be home until tomorrow.” She stood and gathered her purse, cigarette pack, lighter, and keys.
“I won’t be home for awhile,” I blurted, hoping she wouldn’t realize what I said until it was too late.
“You going to Liz’s?”
“Something like that,” I lied.
She frowned but didn’t question me further. Thank the stars. I wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation, and Dom and I needed to hit the road.
As soon as Tabitha closed the front door, I asked Dom, “Did you pack my things?”
He nodded. “What did Ryan want?”
“He overheard Jessica’s dad tell her that I’m a fugitive.” I hesitated telling him the rest. Would Dom flip out if he knew that I filled Ryan in on my secret ability? Eh, screw it. “And he knows about me, about the Ministry. Everything.”
Waiting for Dom’s response was like waiting for iTunes to load—lengthy and aggravating. So, I continued, “He gave me this.” Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the gold key and held it up.
“And where does that go?”
“To his parents’ cabin a couple of hours from here, in Coldbrook Springs.”
Dom rubbed his chin while he stared at the wall, eyes flitting back and forth at nothing in particular. “It might work for now, but it won’t work forever.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “We have a week there, at most, to come up with a plan. Ryan’s parents visit almost every other weekend, so we need to be out beforehand.”
“A week?”
I nodded.
“Alone with you?”
Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not. At. All,” he said, leisurely enunciating each syllable. He reached over the arm of the couch, emerging with a duffel bag. “These are yours.”
“Thanks,” I said, snatching the bag out of his hand. “Let’s go.”
Neither of us hesitated any longer. The Ministry would be here soon, and I didn’t want to be present when they showed up. I was glad my mom wasn’t here, that she’d be gone for the night. They couldn’t harm her any further than what they had already. At least, that’s what I hoped for.
We loaded up the Bug. Well, I loaded up. Dom didn’t have any carry-on baggage.
“Buckle up,” I said.
Dom’s eyebrows crumpled together, but he didn’t respond.
“Safety first.”
“Kearly, I’m pretty sure if you sit here any longer, my seatbelt will not be your only problem.”
Straight-faced, I retorted, “I was joking.”
Exiting the trailer park, the last thing I saw was the Welcome to Goose Pond sign, except the G in “Goose” was missing, so it easily could’ve been “Moose” to anyone who wasn’t familiar with the area. Or “Loose.” Whatever.
Twenty minutes into the ride, Dom was fast asleep, and, surprisingly, he didn’t snore. I pictured him as a snorer. It was amazing how peaceful he looked, as opposed to his demeanor when he was awake. The harsh lines of his face softened. His full bottom lip puckered out, and every few seconds, a puff of air would make a puh sound as it escaped his mouth. Even though his arms crossed his chest in a defensive position, he was about as menacing as a gnat.
I clicked the radio button on my dash, and music floated out of the speakers. Well, speaker—only one worked, and it was on the driver’s side. The rest were blown.
“Kearly,” Dom mumbled.
“Yeah?” I kept my eyes on the road, but he didn’t respond. One quick glance at him revealed his eyes were still shut, and he hadn’t moved. “Dom?” I whispered, mentally questioning whether this was a joke.
“Don’t go,” he murmured.
A hard knot formed in my throat, followed by a throbbing ache. I gulped several times, trying to rid myself of the soreness. Dom dreamt about me, and, from the sound of it, I was leaving him. Was this his subconscious talking, or was he fully aware that on some weird level he cared about me?
For the next hour and a half, he didn’t say another word. I kept the directions and address Ryan wrote down tucked into my cup holder for easy reference. We were currently one exit away, and my bladder was screaming at me to stop at a gas station. I veered off the highway, squinting as the bright lights of several gas stations blinded me. Selecting the first gas station on my right, I parked in front of a pump and ran inside. The clerk raised one eyebrow as I raced past him to the bathroom.
Afterward, I paid for twenty dollars worth of gas and returned to the pump to fill up my car. The road in front was busy, with everyone headed to work. Sunlight warmed my face as a gentle, cool breeze ruffled my hair. I closed my eyes and allowed the heat to shroud my skin. My shoulders relaxed, and a minor smile lingered on my lips.
“Enjoying yourself?” Dom asked.
I flinched and opened my eyes. “Maybe.”
Dom smirked, shook his head, and slid out of the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. Arms stretching straight up into the air, his shirt followed suit, revealing a dark trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans, and solid abdominal lines that were an obvious result of visiting the gym a few times per week. A fire ignited in my stomach, spreading outward and through my limbs. I silently thanked the universe for making sure I didn’t spontaneously combust,
because the entire gas station would be sky high by now.
“Need anything?” Dom asked, motioning toward the convenience store inside.
I shook my head. “No, I’m good for now.” Licking my lips, I glanced away, staring at the traffic on the road in front of me.
Clunk. The nozzle stopped fueling. I hung it on the pump and grabbed my receipt from the machine. When I examined the store, Dom was at the counter, paying for some items. I returned to the driver’s seat and started the engine, waiting for Dom to return. He did, moments later, and then we resumed our short road trip.
Dom snatched the handwritten directions out of my hand. “Let me see this.” He read through them once, then peered through the windshield, squinted at the passing street signs, and then tossed them at me without a word.
“Satisfied?” I asked.
He grunted. “Not really. His directions are pitiful.”
“My bad. I totally forgot to use my expensive desktop at home to search for this place, or the laptop in my book bag.”
Dom’s eyes narrowed, and he reached down, flipping open my satchel. He paused, then twisted his head and glared at me. “Not funny.”
“I don’t have money for expensive stuff. Even my cell phone is prepaid. You think Tabitha is going to shell out cash for something that doesn’t benefit her?”
“Turn around,” Dom ordered.
“What?”
“Turn around. I’ll grab a map from the gas station.”
Veering into a parking lot, I circled and headed back. When I pulled into a parking space at the station, Dom hopped out and jogged inside. He returned moments later with a map of the area. We scanned the geography for any signs of the street listed in Ryan’s directions.
“There,” Dom said, pointing to a location nearby.
Based off Ryan’s instructions, the cabin was farther down the road. A few more streets and we turned onto a back road, which was not much wider than my car. Trees stood tall on either side of the road, partially blocking out the sun. I held on to Ryan’s directions with one hand and the steering wheel with the other. Nearing the end of the street, there weren’t any outlets. This was it. It had to be. I couldn’t see the cabin, but it was probably tucked in the woods.
I continued forward, following the paved roadway. The driveway coiled through the trees, and the mailbox soon vanished from my rearview mirror. Up ahead, the log cabin was perched on top of a small hill, looking stately as it rivaled the height of most trees growing at a lower elevation. There was an attached, two-car garage on the side, which would be perfect for hiding my car.
“Aren’t there some codes at the bottom of the page? Wasn’t it seven-two-something?” I asked.
Dom unfolded the piece of paper and examined it. “Looks like one-one-two-five to me.”
I parked, and he hopped out of the car. Hopefully, we wouldn’t set off any silent alarms. Dom held the paper at eye level, then punched the digits on the keypad. Hummm. Creeeak. The garage door opened, though it needed a squirt of oil on its track, based on the noises it made. Dom followed my car as I pulled forward. There was a white box on the wall in front of me, and he managed to punch in the numbers again, closing and securing the garage door. My thumb and index finger dug around inside my jeans pocket, until I found the gold key. I tossed it at Dom, and he opened the door while I grabbed the bag he packed out of the backseat.
The entrance from the garage led to a large kitchen, with barn-red cabinets and butcher-block countertops. Everything was wooden. Sure, it was a log cabin, but I wasn’t expecting the typical oak walls and antler chandeliers.
“Wow,” Dom exclaimed, hands on hips, staring up at the light fixture in the living room, “this is amazing.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No. This is totally a man’s lair, a place where guys hang out and get away from their spouses for some peace and quiet.”
I gawked at him. “Sorry there isn’t any beer and pizza lying around, dear, but I can check to see if there’s a football game on. Just prop your feet up, unwind, and I’ll retire to my bedroom and knit while you do manly things.”
“Actually,” Dom said, opening the fridge, “they do have beer in here. No pizza, though.”
Was it possible to blindfold him, knock him over the head with a frying pan, and leave him stranded in the woods somewhere?
He peeked over the edge of the refrigerator door. “I’m joking. If anything, this would be a great romantic-getaway spot, not a gentlemen’s club.”
A short burst of laughter shot from my throat. “And what do you know about romance?”
“More than you,” Dom said, closing the refrigerator door and standing upright. “I bet you’ve never even been kissed.”
“Ummm, I have, actually. But that’s none of your business.”
“I could always find out.”
“How? That’s not possible.”
He responded with a smirk and a flicker in his eyes. Was that his way of telling me he could pull another incident similar to Glasslyn? Ugh. Shaking my head, I stomped up the stairs. My right foot refused to willingly lift, and I stumbled, catching myself on the railing. I was already tired. Tired of running, tired of pretending to be someone I wasn’t, tired of lying to my friends. And now, to top it all off, I was a fugitive.
Reaching the landing, I threw my head back and murmured, “Please don’t let this day get any worse.”
Scanning the upstairs portion of the cabin, there were only two doors. The remainder was an open loft. I opened the first door and a king-sized bed rested against the far wall. The second door led to a full bathroom.
“Oh, well. Finders keepers.”
Dom passed me and entered the bedroom, collapsing backward onto the mattress. “Finders keepers, indeed.” He extended his arms, then rested his hands behind his head, like a pillow. Smirking, he said, “I guess we’ll just have to share.”
“Umm, no. I’m not sharing with you. Get out.” I pointed toward the downstairs area.
Dom rolled onto his side, head supported by his palm. “You’re not going to make me sleep on the couch, are you?”
“Yep.”
“Why? I don’t bite.”
I wasn’t sure how to process the playful side of Dom. He wasn’t his typical, dark self. Was this the real him? The guy who wasn’t trying to conceal his other side from the Ministry?
“I want the bed,” I told him. Wow, I sounded like a whiny little bitch. But I was exhausted and had been driving for the past two hours. “At least let me take a nap.”
Dom sat up and scooted to the edge. “It’s all yours. But if you change your mind about tonight, I should warn you: I sleep nude.”
That was a mental image I didn’t need before dozing off into dreamland. Eyeing him up and down, I remembered his bare stomach at the gas station. I avoided looking at him as he passed me on his way out. My nape prickled, like a thousand ants crawled over that one section of my body, and then a gradual, burning sensation spread up into my cheeks.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I blacked out.
I ran down a snowy road, the street lights glowing on either side, their radiance reflecting off the ice crystals. Men dressed in black from head to toe chased me. Every time I turned a street corner, the avenue ahead transformed into the spitting image of the one before it. Continually checking over my shoulder, I needed to be certain I had an advantage over the Ministry’s agents. That mistake cost me; I lost my balance on a patch of black ice. My arms flailed as I attempted to right myself. But it was too late. The men snatched me under my armpits, covered my eyes with a gloved hand, and transported me to the M.I.N.D.
My eyelids popped open. Giving my brain a moment to become acquainted with the room, I turned to the other side, facing the door. Dom sat at the edge of the bed. My reflexes sent me soaring backward, off the edge, where I hit the floor with a thump. Dom’s hearty chuckle filled the space, and I
lay on the ground, unmoving. I wasn’t surprised he laughed at me. The floorboards creaked and groaned as he walked around to the scene of my crash. He bent over, still smiling, and extended his hand. I smacked it away. He clasped my wrist and hauled me upward, against my better judgment, bringing me face to face with him again. Just like we were in Glasslyn. Oh, no. It was bad enough that he gave me those mental images earlier, but this? This wasn’t a brilliant idea. If we were going to bring down the Ministry, we needed to be a team, not a couple.
“Dom,” I said, but he released me from his grip.
“I fried bacon and scrambled eggs,” he stated. “And brewed coffee.”
He left the room, and I stood in the same position for at least thirty seconds. Thirty long seconds. What just happened? Had I imagined he wanted something more, or was I seriously tapping into my lustful side?
Leaving whatever that was behind in the room, I ambled downstairs. My stomach was angry at me for not recently feeding it. Plus, the smell of bacon and coffee was amazing.
Dom laid two plates on the counter as I entered the kitchen. Silverware for two, as well as napkins, rested on the table in the breakfast nook. Steam rose from Dom’s mug as he poured his coffee.
“I wasn’t sure how you liked yours, so I’ll just let you fix it,” he said, nodding toward the coffee machine. “Creamer’s in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet above me.” He placed the pot back on the warmer.
Fixing my plate, I ogled the fare, not entirely convinced he made this by himself. Who knew he had a chef inside?
“How long have you been cooking?” I asked, setting my plate down at the small, two-seat table. Turning around, I picked up the coffee pot, and the remaining mug, and poured my cup of Joe.
“For awhile,” he responded. “Sometimes, I didn’t like what the Ministry had to offer in their cafeteria, so I’d just whip something up in my room.”
My brow furrowed. “Your room? You lived there?”
“I did, yeah. Once you’re inducted into the Ministry, you stay with the Ministry. They don’t let you out of their sight.”
Carefully pivoting on my heel, mug in hand, I said, “That sounds…creepy. And invasive. What if someone decides one day that they don’t have the same beliefs as the Ministry?” I parked my butt in the chair, ready to ask more juicy questions. If I was going to eventually destroy the Ministry, I needed to know as much as possible.
“If someone decides to leave, it’s mandatory they have their minds wiped,” Dom replied. “But really, who’d want to remember all the shit that happens there? I wouldn’t.”
I pierced the eggs with my fork and brought them to my mouth. They melted on my tongue, the salt-and-pepper flavors stirring my taste buds. I moaned, taking another stab at my eggs and grabbing a piece of bacon with my free hand.
“This is amazing.”
Dom was motionless. He glanced down at his plate, and the spot between his eyebrows creased. “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal. It’s just eggs and bacon.”
“Damn good eggs and bacon,” I said. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”
Was he blushing? Had nobody ever told him he was a great cook? Maybe he didn’t have anybody to tell him…
“Nobody’s ever told you that before?” I asked.
He peered out the nook’s window, to the infinite trees surrounding the cabin. “Yeah, one other person.”
“One of your friends?”
“No,” he responded, abruptly pushing back his chair and standing up. He set his plate on the counter, carrying his cup with him as he exited through the back door and onto the rear deck.
I watched him through the window. He placed the mug on the outdoor table on his way to the railing, where he braced himself with both hands, head hanging. Scanning my brain for any clues as to what I said that offended him, I came up short.
After I finished eating, I refilled my mug and joined Dom outside.
“I’m sorry if—”
He held up one hand. “Don’t. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have run out like that.”
“All right. We won’t talk about it anymore.”
“Agreed.”
I sat down at the iron-wrought table, and Dom joined me.
“We need to figure out a plan before Ryan’s parents show up and we’re road tripping again.”
Dom asked, “What’d you have in mind?”
“Is that a pun?”
He smirked. “Only if you want it to be.”
“Then it is,” I said. “Okay, so…”
“The plan. Right. Well, I can offer you information about the inside, or we can do something daring.”
My back straightened, and I leaned closer. “Yes on the first, but I’m unsure about the second. I’ve had enough risky encounters with the Ministry over the last week.”
Dom chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute, then responded, “Let me put it this way: there are others like us, but I doubt they know where we are at the moment. If I could figure out a way to get them a message, then we could set up private meetings and begin preparations on a larger scale.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “How many of you are anti-Ministry?”
“At least a couple dozen, but we just go about our daily activities like normal. We can’t ever let them think something’s wrong.”
“Except, for you, it’s too little, too late.”
He nodded. “Yes, but not for the others. They’re still on the inside.”
“How long has it been that way?”
“Too long. We should’ve demolished the Ministry and everything they stand for years ago, but nobody has taken the initiative. Plans fell through the cracks, and nothing ever came together like we envisioned.” He shook his head.
I couldn’t help it; I smiled. “Well, all of that’s about to change. But before we figure out how to do that, I’m going to need some answers.”
“Like…?”
“Like, what makes your kind think they’re better than mine? How is it you can show up in my imagination when I didn’t dream of you? What’s the ultimate goal of the Ministry? Who’s in charge? I have so many questions and not enough answers, and I don’t even know where to begin.”
Dom chuckled and held up his hands. “Whoa. One at a time.”
“Okay, what makes you different from me? If you can show up in my imagination that means you have a similar ability, right? You mentioned before that you were trained.”
“Our ability is virtually the same, except families of Realists are descendants of the original leaders, so we’re spared, unlike the rest of you. We’re brought into the Ministry at an early age, and we’re trained to hone in on others like us.”
“How?”
“It’s hard to explain, but we have to learn how to be in tune with our dimensions. If we’re not wholly in sync, then we can’t travel to the imaginary planes. It’s a feeling unlike any other: a millions needles barely pricking your skin, the warmth of the sun on every piece of your flesh, being swallowed by a tidal wave and returning to the surface, gasping for air—all at once. But it’s also very draining, so the Ministry has begun recent discussions about abolishing the one-warning rule.”
“So, people like me wouldn’t have any warning at all?”
“The Ministry’s agents would just snatch up Dreamers and take them back to headquarters, where they’d have their imaginations erased. It’d be less time-consuming that way.”
That reminded me of the brief conversation I had with my previous captor, who stated the Ministry would wipe out our imaginations, then move on to Plan B. I explained this to Dom, and he frowned.
“This is news to me,” he said. “Unless they want to take everyone’s imagination, not just the Dreamers.”
“But what’s the point in that? I mean, even my kind don’t pose a threat, so why bother with normal people?”
“Your kind does pose a threat. If you’re seen, like you allegedly were with Jessica, then it could become viral.
The media would spread their coverage, and the world would know a great secret that’s been going on for hundreds of years. One small misstep and the Ministry would be exposed.”
“That’s it,” I said. “We expose them!”
“There’s just one problem: the Ministry can only be reached by those like me, who can traverse separate dimensions.”
“What?”
“They aren’t located on this plane, is what I’m saying.”
“So, they can’t be found.”
“Well, the government knows about them,” Dom advised me. “They have a strict agreement that as long as the Ministry removes the Dreamers’ abilities, they could continue with their line of work. As far as I know, the Ministry continues to receive funding from the government.”
“What?” I shrieked. “They’re helping them?”
“They don’t want the whole thing blowing up in their faces,” Dom stated. “It’s just one less problem they have to worry about, so whatever funding they can manage, they send to the Ministry.”
“And if the government is in on this, that means they want power over us, which could explain Plan B. What if they wipe everyone’s imaginations, except those who work for the government and the Ministry? We’d all be living, breathing zombies under their control.” The reality of the situation sunk in, and the trees, the cabin, and Dom blurred. I lay my cheek against the table’s cool, glass surface and closed my eyes.
“Hey,” Dom said. His chair screeched, and he was at my side in an instant, one hand rubbing my back. “Don’t think about it too much. I’m almost positive we can stop this before everything becomes a mess. They won’t know what hit them.”
I barely nodded. As I opened my eyelids, Dom’s dark-brown irises stared back at me from less than a foot away. His hand glided from my back to my neck, and then up to my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp. My eyelids began to droop, completely relaxed.
“How about we forget we’re fugitives, just for tonight?” Dom suggested. “We’ll deal with all of this tomorrow.”
But we weren’t guaranteed tomorrow. Nobody was. We could pretend there wasn’t a secret organization out to get us, but how long would that last? Until they discovered our location? I hated that my thoughts dipped into negative waters, but I had to be realistic here. And that was the irony of our situation: Dom was supposed to be the Realist, and I was the Dreamer. Now, our state of mind was reversed, even if it was just temporarily.
Instead of drowning him in the sea of my thoughts, like a swift undercurrent, I faked a smile and responded, “That sounds wonderful.”
15