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What was it that all this reminded her of? Why had she been soscaredto come here?
“Let me just try to call her,” she said, and pulled herself away, out of the house onto the porch.
It was cold, and she shivered as she pressed the button to call Lozen back. As Derek had warned, there was no service, but she dialed again and again. Then she started walking toward the road.
The world spun, and the further she got from the house, the less good she felt. She also thought she was almost certainly on drugs.
She felt no fear, although she thought it might be better if she did. She only wanted to call Lozen, her, dear, dear friend, who she loved so much, and who has the most beautiful hair, long and silky, so beautiful, so funny.
She stumbled a little as she walked away from the house, into the dark. She made it to the edge of the yard, then tried to call again, only to find that her phone was dead.
“Fuck,” she mumbled, and for a moment she wanted to walk back toward the house, toward that warm, humming light.
Some inner voice compelled her on, and she staggered forward toward the edge of the wood that wrapped around the perimeter of the house. A thought popped into her mind. It was the image of that woman, laying prone in the street. She knew she wasn’t too far from where it happened. Maybe it had happenedright here. She wasn’t scared, maybe she should be, but she wasn’t at all. She feltgood, she wanted tokeepfeelinggood, and she knew if she went back inside that house she could feel so,sogood.
She could go back, she would go back, but only after she found Lozen. Emerging through the wood and onto the street, she felt a shudder of familiarity. She was the woman in the velvet dress. Shewasn’t, but shewas…
She didn’t know where she was.
She wished Lozen was with her. Lozen knew the island so well. If she walked the street for long enough, she would get somewhere, wouldn’t she? Water, eventually, right? It was an island, after all. She could go back inside and ask for a ride. Then she could talk to Derek some more, and maybe see Rex with his smooth stomach, his full, dark lips, and blond hair and all those muscles.
She’d walked for less than ten minutes when a black car drove by, its high beams piercing the fog. It flew past, then screeched to a stop and wheeled around, making an effortless three-point turn as she watched dumbly.
Then she realized it was coming for her.
She stood, feeling nothing but a strange acceptance. Thoughts flickered through her mind.
Death, people haddied, and it had something to do with…something? Maybe she was about to die. She didn’t have any distinct feelings about that.
The car pulled up toward her until she could see the Porsche insignia, the shield, on its black, gleaming hood. Everything was sofancy!
The door opened, and for a moment she only saw a figure, blinded as she was by the car’s headlights.
A flood of recognition and relief washed over her as Ansel James stepped toward her, calling out in his beautiful, deep voice.
“Saber?”
His eyes were glowing, or looked like they were, and he stepped toward her with a strange hesitation. It was like her most precious, secret dream was coming true.
“What are you doing here, Saber?”
It was a question, but it sounded like a demand. Why was he being mean?
“Ansel,” she said, breathing out. “I was at this party, then I got taken to this other party and—”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I think I am. Honestly I don’t know.”
“We can talk in the car. Get in.”
“Ok.” She nodded helplessly, and let him take her by the arm and slide her into his passenger seat.
He got in beside her and revved the car’s powerful engine. The sound made her shudder.
“Ilovethis car,” she said running her hands over the leather of the seat.
“Are you on drugs, Saber?”
