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“The old story about the road,” I say. “It says that if you reach the end, you can ask for something. A wish. What if that’s what’s past the gate? What if whatever’s through there could...”
“Could what?” Kyle asks. “Bring them back? Trina? Jeremy? Vanessa?” He shakes his head. “No way. Becca’s right. That’s not our way home.”
“Then what is?” I demand.
Becca turns. She raises her hand, and points. And there it is—the darkness, waiting. “There,” she says. “That’s the way home.”
“Or it’s just another trap,” I say.
But the others are listening to her, I can tell. Mel moves close to me. “I think she’s right, Sara. She’s been on the road longer than any of us. She’s the one that could hear Lucy. I think we should listen to her.”
“We can’t,” I say, looking back at Anthony and Becca. “We can’t go through the dark. Not with only five of us.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Anthony says.
“We can’t all make it. We won’t have another miracle,” I say. “The candle is gone. No one is coming to save us. If we go through the gate—”
“That gate isn’t to keep us in,” Anthony says. “Don’t you hear that sound? It’s to keep somethingout.”
The sea cannot drown him forever.My lips are dry and taste of salt.
“We’ll make it,” Becca says. “We’ll find a way.”
Anthony shakes his head. “Sara’s right. Basic math. Odds and evens. We can’t break the rules, not this late in the game. If only four make it, that’s better than none of us.”
“I don’t accept that,” Becca says. “We’ll figure it out. I was in this place for a year and youfoundme, do you know how impossible that is? We—”
The panic in her voice breaks something inside of me. The last bit of my reckless hope vanishes—or maybe some last scrap of defiance wakes up, for a moment.
We can’t open the gate. Whatever lies beyond it, I can feel its power—like heat or frost, already almost painful. I don’t need to know what it is to know that it is nothing I care to beresponsible for unleashing. If what the road whispered to me is true, this whole city was drowned to stop it from getting in. And every traveler that has passed by—every one of them chose the uncertain dark.
And we have to choose it, too.
“All right,” I say. “Mel, take Kyle. Get out of here.”
“But—” Mel looks between the three of us. But she knows what we need to do—Kyle has to survive, more than any of us. She doesn’t want to leave us behind, but she doesn’t want to die, either. Who would?
She steps in close to me one last time. Her kiss is light and chaste, and I want it to last forever. “See you on the other side,” she says. Like she’s making a promise that’s my job to keep.
“Go. And don’t stop until you’re home,” I say. “Don’t wait in the woods, just get Kyle to safety. We’ll find each other later.”
She nods reluctantly. “Be careful,” she tells me. She looks toward the waiting dark. “This was a lot more fun when we were kids, and it was all a game.”
“Just thirteen steps,” I remind her.
“Or in my case, seven, and then Tommy Jessop ran up and sprayed us with Silly String,” Mel says, trying to smile and failing utterly.
“You’ll make it,” I promise her. She nods—and then she’s gone.
We watch them walk toward the dark, hand in hand. Mel looks back. Kyle doesn’t.
They vanish into the dark.
“Becca,” I say. I look at Anthony. “Can you give us a minute?” I ask him.
He hesitates, then nods. He walks a little ways away. Out of earshot if we drop our voices. I pull Becca toward me, linking both my hands with hers. Our brows touch. She trembles and the movement passes through me like an echo.
“One of us has to stay,” I say.
