SILAS

Something's wrong. Something's…happened. I'm just not sure what. Whatever it is, it feels like a dream, one I'm about to wake up from. I can feel it slipping through my grasp, like water in a sieve.

I'd ask you what's going on, and what's happened to me, but I'm pretty that's not how this relationship works. Is it?

Whatever the truth is, I can't reach it right now. The waking world, the world of the living is drifting away. I'm caught in a different current, drawn toward things of the past, of a time when things made sense. Until they didn't.

It was the night of the party. Ethan's party. Only, I had just ditched it.

I was riding Gemma's bike, doing all the legwork. She was in the back with her feet on the pegs, holding onto the shoulders of my hoodie for support. You're not supposed to ride on the pegs; we both knew that. It's not like we did it all that often, but it was always an option if we needed it.

It was an unusually cool mid-summer evening in that upper-middle-class suburban sprawl. Still bright enough out I almost didn't notice all the street lamps were turning on—right on the cusp of actual 'night'. As we rode, we were serenaded by the CHIK-CHIK-CHIK of pulsating sprinklers on neighborhood lawns, and the ebb and flow of deep Hip-Hop bass tremors from passing cars. To the east, the deep orange sun scribbled wild neon colors in the sky as it set, as if to call attention to itself, making sure it would be missed during the short summer night.

It was a half-hour ride back to the house, according to Gemma. She might have been slower on a bike than I was, but then again, I was carrying her weight along with mine in this instance, which actually required more effort than I expected. It was late at night at this point and I was starting to feel tired, and my thighs were burning from all that pedaling.

I wanted to take a break, and it turned out Gemma wanted to stop at the gas station anyway.

We parked outside the Circle K and locked down the bike using Gemma's bike lock. Honestly, I thought it was a gesture more than anything. It wasn't one of the key locks; it was a combination lock, and the combination was: ONE-ONE-ONE. But I had a hard time imagining someone would try running off with it during the couple of minutes we were going to be inside.

Gemma was more concerned than I was. Which made sense—it was her bike, after all.

She told me to go inside. She would stay outside with the bike.

Normally, I wouldn't leave my little sister alone outside at night in the middle of town, but again, it was only going to be a couple of minutes, maybe even less than that. I wasn't picking up groceries. Just a couple of drinks and some snacks.

No one else was inside, so I doubted there would be a line. I'd be in and out in a flash. Besides, I'd never perceived my hometown as a dangerous place. Maybe it was; maybe there was stuff going on that I just never heard about, but I just didn't think of the Circle K on the corner as a seedy part of town.

At this time of night, it was a quiet intersection, but it was well-lit. There were cameras around. I don't know; I guess it just didn't occur to me.

So I left her alone while I went inside.

As I suspected, things went smoothly inside the Circle K. No one else was in there besides me and the cashier, watching me from behind the counter from the moment I walked in. Tall, skinny dude who probably needed a haircut and a beard shaping. His eyes followed me, fingers tapping on the countertop while I grabbed two Gatorades, a KitKat bar, and a PayDay.

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I paid with my card. I had to swipe a couple of times because the reader didn't pick it up right away.

By the time fifty seconds had passed from me walking in the door, I had the receipt and bars in my pockets and a Gatorade in each hand. I nudged the door open with my elbow, slipping back out into the cool night.

Gemma was gone.

This was unexpected. Gemma wasn't normally the sort of person to wander off. She was too considerate for that. So what, then?

Her bike was still here, but that didn't exactly fill me with confidence. Because if something bad had happened, really bad, like someone had come by and scooped her up or something, it's not like they would have bothered to take the bike too.

"...Gemma?"

I didn't yell, not at first. I spoke her name loudly but tentatively. I stood there, glancing around like a spooked deer, trying to figure out if something really had stepped on a branch or if it had just been the wind. The lot was empty, at least from where I was standing.

"Gemma," I said again, louder this time.

You have to understand, I was 'freezing'. That's what people do in situations they're not prepared for. They run, they fight, or they freeze. In my case, my mind was already jumping to the worst possible scenario, like it always does, assuming the worst and bracing for it—which isn't exactly a smart way to go about things.

I reached for my phone. She probably just walked down a couple blocks to check something out. No need to jump to any conclusions.

I had to bring her phone number up in the contact info. She wasn't in my list of recent calls. I texted her occasionally, but I almost never called.

I found it, and I was about to press the call button. But then...voices. Coming from around the corner, the opposite side of the Circle K from where I was, the little back alley behind it. I was pretty sure one of those voices belonged to Gemma, and suddenly, for no reason I can adequately explain, I was insanely curious and deadly terrified all at once.

I put away my phone and crept around the corner of the Circle K, easing myself to the point where I would be able to peek around that second bend and into the alley to see what was going on. Meanwhile, I could hear the conversation more clearly and...yeah, that was definitely Gemma's voice. But there was something different, something off. It wasn't just the tone or volume or attitude of it—or maybe it was all those things. It was like she had adopted this entirely new persona. It seemed like Gemma's voice, and yet, and the same time, I couldn't possibly be. But I knew it was.

She was talking to at least two other people. Male. And older. They had to be in their thirties or forties, and they didn't exactly sound happy.

Neither did Gemma. I could tell that much. Even if I couldn't tell exactly what she was saying.

At that point, I was able to reach the back corner without making any noise. I peeked around it.

There she was. That was definitely Gemma, with her back to me. Next to a big, white van. Hood up. Hands on her hips. Casting a long shadow across the alley from the streetlamp. Talking to these two guys wearing...lab coats?

"Look, we just got back from processing," one of them complained.

"Doesn't matter. You need to leave, both of you, right now. You shouldn't even be parked back here, it's too— okay, what now?"

They'd both stopped listening to her and were looking down at their smartwatches.

One of them glanced up at her. "He's out."

Gemma's hands fell down to her sides. "...what?"

"He's—"

Her finger jerked up in front of her lips. "Sshhh!"

The focus was moving outward. I felt like I was in the middle of a stealth mission, and some dangerous henchmen had just said, He's here, he's nearby.

Gemma hunched, putting her hands in her hoodie pockets. Almost like she was assuming a character. She moved away from the men, in my direction. Then she stopped in her tracks, staring. At me.

I hadn't moved to hide. I didn't want to. I was too shocked, too confused, to bother.

As she spotted me, my sister's eyes were suddenly wider than I'd ever seen them. Her lips quivered. She swallowed, and I could see her throat moving.

She said, in the littlest, quietest voice I'd ever heard from her: "...hey."

Then, I heard footsteps behind me, loud and fast.

I started to turn. And then a black bag went over my head. And then something grabbed my wrists. And then—