Shattered Dreams (Banshee Book 3) Read online

  Benton raised his hands. “Why do you keep air quoting officially like that?”

  “Because I’m optimistic, not stupid,” Nicole replied.

  A slight smirk crossed his lips but was quickly lost. “So the gun is for protection? Just in case?”

  “The majority of the missing people are women,” Dorothy said, casting a quick glance at her daughter. “Teenagers of Native descent.”

  Benton winced as his stomach suddenly turned into a pit of snakes, his eyes shifting to Nicole. The vague description worked for just about every girl in town, but with Nicole, it had a few other things working against her. She was stunning, stubborn, and had no sense of her own limitations.

  She smiled, obviously trying to ease the worry crossing his features. “That is why mom and dad never let me go near the Highway of the Lost without being chaperoned, and armed.”

  “And you’re not allowed to be armed unless you practice,” Dorothy noted.

  “I just hit the five,” Nicole protested.

  Dorothy didn’t seem all that satisfied, but she still nodded and checked her watch. “We need to get back to town. It’s almost time to go.” She motioned them to get ready.

  Nicole quickly collected the items back into her basket and clicked the lid into place. For just a spit second, Benton could see how nervous she was to actually go. But then she smoothed a hand over her hip-length hair, fixed a sparkling smile onto her face, and surged to her feet. With the handle of the basket hooked over one arm, she reached out to help him up with the other. She must have been distracted, because not a trace of guilt crossed her face when his burned skin pressed against her palm. They ignored the angry, startled shrieks of the owls as they made their way to the car.

  “Hypothetically, would you take it as concern or sexism if I suggested you don’t come along?” Benton asked, while there was still enough distance between them and Dorothy, hoping that the question wouldn’t be overheard.

  Nicole hummed thoughtfully. “Mmm, I’m not sure. It would depend on the tone and wording you use. But either way, my response would be to remind you that I’ve saved your butt from two different monsters. You really don’t do well on your own. Also, I’m always right.”

  “That’s debatable,” he muttered, unable to fight off a jaw-cracking yawn.

  Ignoring his response, she reached into her basket, retrieved a slender thermos, and handed it to him without as much as a fleeting look.

  “Spicy taco latte?”

  “Of course!” she scoffed.

  ***

  The main street was bustling with energy. People hurried about, setting up stalls and draping just about every surface vibrant red, the color that was conveniently dominant in both the Canadian and Siksika Nation flags. Fort Wayward was not a place that let any holiday pass without thoroughly enjoying it. Canada Day was no exception. With her basket in her hand and backpack slung over one shoulder, Nicole slipped through the crowd. Benton was close to her side, a small frown tugging at his lips as he had to sidestep many other people.

  “What is with all the people?” he muttered.

  “Gee, I wonder if this influx of tourists has anything to do with an upcoming holiday or event,” she teased as they passed someone stringing up a large ‘Happy Canada Day’ sign in their shop window. “What could it possibly be?”

  “There’s still three days to go,” he shot back. “They don’t need to be here yet.”

  “You sound like an old man telling kids to stay off his lawn,” she laughed. “And don’t worry. I have Canada Day all set.”

  “Why do I have a feeling you’re about to start dictating a schedule I neither asked for nor agreed to?”

  Ignoring him, she cleared her throat, “July first kicks off with a parade down Main Street.”

  “That’s only four blocks.”

  “It turns back around to where it started from,” she dismissed. “After that, we’ll hit the school fair, which will give us just enough time for a few rides before you need to be at the baseball competition.”

  “I didn’t volunteer for that,” he said.

  “I signed you up.” She paused as they ducked under a string of decorations that was currently being raised. “Don’t worry. You’ll be on Zack’s team.”

  “I hate Zack,” he griped.

  She rolled her eyes. “You do not.”

  “He hates me.”

  “That’s more accurate,” she concurred.

  Benton did his best to keep his scowl, but failed miserably and ran a hand through his ruffled blonde hair.

  His timid smile vanished when he caught sight of where they were headed. Dorothy had gone on ahead and was currently talking to Benton’s parents, while teenagers roamed around them with backpacks on their shoulders.

  “What didn’t you tell me?” Benton asked, shooting her a narrowed gaze.

  “Nothing. Have you seen Old Faithful yet?” Nicole asked, ignoring her unsatisfying answer, as she gestured to the old school bus. It only sat twelve passengers and its once vibrant yellow paint was faded with sun and age, but it had earned a place in the town’s heart. “I’m sure I mentioned it. That’s the bus we all get to use when we’re learning to drive because no one cares if it gets another dent.”

  “Nicole,” he said with a warning tone.

  “I’m pretty sure that I mentioned that we were taking it,” she added in a rushed mutter, “and that everyone there is coming with us.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “What?”

  “I’m positive I mentioned it,” she insisted.

  “No, you didn’t,” he said. “I thought it was just going to be the three of us. This is kind of personal, Nic. I’m not really in the mood to put up with a whole bunch of people.”

  He still wasn’t moving, so she reached back, grabbed his hand, and pulled him along. “No one wants their kids travelling the Highway of The Lost on their own. So we do it sort of like supervised trips. It’s mom’s turn to drive. She already agreed. Everyone would be super suspicious if she suddenly said she wasn’t going to do it. Oh, and Meg and Danny are coming too. And your parents.”

  “I don’t know what to respond to first,” he stammered as he trudged along behind her. “You want me to sit in a bus for hours with my parents as well as Meg?”

  “And Danny.”

  “I like Danny,” Benton said. “Meg is the evil twin. And we’re staying overnight, right? I have to put up with them for that long?”

  “You’ll have a different room,” she defended. “And the crowd is part of the plan. Your parents are chaperons and mom has already warned them to keep an eye on Zack. So, when he runs off, because of course he will, we’ll have a distraction to slip away and get you to the center and back before they even notice. See? This is all going to pan out nicely, and you should really stop questioning my genius.”

  She hurriedly moved towards the crowd, waving at the others and ignoring Benton as he called after her.

  “Wait, Zack’s coming?”

  Chapter 2

  There was too much. Too much to see, too much to feel. Too many bodies he was supposed to inhabit at once. He could feel his senses ripping like a tangible entity, as they stretched to accommodate the crush. There wasn’t enough room within his skin for everything that wanted to crawl in. Images flashed across his eyes at a rapid pace. Overlapping. Blurring. Bleeding into an unmanageable mess. A thousand minds crammed into his own even while they hollowed him out. His head rippled and twisted and his focus tried to take in a thousand minds at once. The hurricane of sensation shredded him. He could feel himself lagging behind, torn apart down to his very cells. He opened his mouth and a dozen mouths moved. He tried to release the agony raging within him, but even the sound crumbled as the last parts of his mind were lost to the gaping void.

  ***

  Benton’s spine bowed. There wasn’t enough space between the seats for his long, aching legs. His knees slammed against the metal rim of the backseat in front of him as his head was t
hrown back. Unable to break free, his scream swelled within his ribcage, pulverizing his organs into mush. The unbearable pressure finally found its escape, not as a wail, but as a long, whimpering whine, like the hot steam from the molten core escaping from the earth. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Not until he was completely drained and exhausted, he slumped against the window by his side.

  Slowly, he became aware of his mother repeatedly calling for him, her voice straining to cover her concern. He blinked but didn’t try to respond. It took far too much energy to deal with the vibrations that still rattled around his core and strummed against his skin. The energy that rushed through him and around him numbed his mind into total silence. He didn’t have a name.

  Right now, his brain should have been on fire with an echoing name and an unbridled need to warn them. But there was nothing; no throbbing pain that kept growing when he took too long to send out the word. Finally, he was able to work down a dry gulp, and he ran his trembling fingers through his sweat-drenched hair.

  “I’m okay,” he said hoarsely before muttering an apology.

  He didn’t know who was close enough to hear it, but it was enough to stop his mother from repeating his name. The worn plastic covering of the chair squeaked as he straightened up. Pain zipped up through his nerves from his batted knees, and it took more effort than should be required to readjust his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. His parents, sitting together in the front row of the bus, turned around to watch him carefully. Still, their attention restlessly flicked around their captivated audience, trying to judge how everyone was reacting to their son’s outburst. Benton hunched his shoulders against the sensation of twelve pairs of eyes fixated upon him.

  He flinched as Meg leaned forward and rested her arms on the back of his chair, an inch from his skull. “So that’s what all the fuss is about, huh? Honestly, I expected something more impressive.”

  Benton watched as his mother’s eyes widened. She glanced to her husband.

  “You know about his night terrors?” his father, Theodore, asked.

  A girl who Benton recognized from his biology class, sitting with her back pressed against the side of the bus a few seats in front of him, was the first to respond.

  “Night terrors? I had a cousin who had those. He grew out of them when he was little, though.”

  Zack reached across the aisle and dumped his large hand onto Benton’s skull. Nicole flattened herself against the seat to avoid Zack’s forearm and glared at him. Ignoring her, Zack used his grip on Benton’s head to shake him like a rattle.

  “Aw, Benny-boy’s a late bloomer,” he grinned. “Don’t shame him.”

  In unspoken unison, Benton and Nicole both smacked their hands into Zack’s forearm, dislodging the huge boy’s grip and forcing aside his long limb. Zack only laughed as he flopped back into his seat.

  Danny giggled as she poked his cheek with one finger. “You made him blush. Look how red he is.”

  That was enough to get questions and smartass remarks hurdling around the limited space of the bus. Benton tried his best to ignore them and the apologetic look Nicole was throwing his way, and he focused instead on repairing the damage Zack had done to his hair.

  “Benton,” his mother’s voice swiftly cut through the chatter. “Are you okay, sweetie?” No sooner was the question out, that his mother shifted her gaze to Dorothy. It didn’t matter where she was looking, Benton knew the following comment was meant for his ears. “I hope that he didn’t distract you. I’m sure he won’t fall asleep again.”

  “It’s fine, Cheyanne,” Dorothy insisted.

  Beside him, Nicole smiled brightly and called down the aisle. “Don’t worry Mrs. Bertrand, I have you covered.” She reached into the picnic basket on the floor, pulled out another thermos, and rattled it slightly in the air. “I brought some coffee for him.”

  While both of his parents smiled at her, neither of their expressions had any real warmth to it. Still, they thanked her, cast one more concerned look at Benton, and turned back to the front.

  “Why don’t your parents like me?” Nicole fumed quickly.

  “Who cares?” Benton muttered, instantly reaching for the metal container.

  “I’m exceedingly likable,” she said, too distracted to release her grip as Benton tugged on the thermos. “Some would even say adorable.”

  “You tell ‘em. Please give me the coffee,” Benton rushed in one breath.

  “Huh? Oh! Here's my Canada Day Special.”

  He slowly pried the thermos out of her hand. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s a red velvet, white chocolate latte.”

  Before he could ask again, Danny leaned forward once more. “It’s red and white, like the flag.”

  Sitting in the seat in front of them, Meg twisted around and tucked some of her short, dark hair behind her ear. “Nicole makes up something like that every year.” Her eyes brightened as she asked, “I don’t suppose you brought snacks?”

  Nicole’s response was opening a floodgate. Benton and all his strange behavior was instantly forgotten, as everyone surged towards them to claim one of the assorted, baked goods that Nicole continued to pull from her picnic basket. He immersed himself deeper into the corner of the window-seat chair, attempting to get out of the way and protect his drink. Sipping the still steaming sweet concoction, he popped in his earphones, selected a song on his phone, and just watched Nicole preen under the attention.

  The smile on his lips died, as a wave of frost descended on them like a heavy fog. It seeped into his bones and spread out to infest his flesh, leaving him shivering in its wake. He turned his head to watch the world passing by outside his window, desperately trying to pinpoint what had changed. Why he now felt like he had been swallowed by an arctic wind.

  The noonday sun bathed the world in a buttery glow and pressed a layer of heat against the glass. He could feel it. He could tell that the air around him hadn’t shifted at all. But still, he couldn’t stop shivering. The road twisted out before them, curving down into the valley created by the rolling hills. A scattering of trees rose tall, lined up along the crystal stream that glistened along the very bottom of the pit, their leaves only just beginning to turn golden orange with the coming of autumn.

  Shadows danced across him, and he squinted into the glare of the window to spot the large carnivorous birds. They swept past on silent wings and lined the towering branches, the sunlight glimmering off the twin tuffs on either side of their heads. His brow furrowed when he noticed that some of the shadows didn’t have the tuffs that gave the great horned owl their name.

  He pressed closer to the glass and craned his neck, trying to get a better look at the creatures that weaved through the dying branches. Their numbers made the branches bow and bounce. Dead leaves shook loose, creating a crimson rain that captured the sunlight as it fell. The debris twisted and turned. The shadowy creatures came with them.

  Benton jolted back in his seat. The dark shapes didn’t fall. They simply existed in midair, peeking out from behind the leaves to watch him with penetrating eyes. As soon as he spotted them, they were easier to notice. They lurked behind tree trunks, littered the branches high above, and peered through the layers of lush grass. Everywhere the light couldn’t reach became a hiding place for the fathomless beings. Their glowing eyes followed the bus as it passed.

  Benton’s heart throbbed painfully and his body temperature dropped the longer he met the unknown entity’s gaze. His fingers grew numb, and he clutched the thermos close to him, attempting to force some of the lingering heat back into his skin. Pain tingled along his feet, the skin becoming raw and tender with an icy feeling in them. Forcing himself to sit back, he squeezed his eyes shut. Warmth still swept through him with every trembling breath, but now more mildly, as a stream instead of a gushing torrent.

  The sunlight that played across his face slowly seeped away, taking with it the last traces of heat that loitered in the air. Refusing to open his eyes, Bento
n hurriedly gulped down his drink. The liquid burned his lips where it made contact and scorched a path to the pit of his stomach. For a brief, incredible moment, he felt it slosh out against the blizzard within his core. But it wasn’t enough. Bit by bit, the coffee cooled within him until it was like sleet lining his insides.

  He jolted as one of his earphones tugged free, the music replaced by Nicole’s worried whisper. “Benton?”

  All of the conversations happening around them continued without hesitation, and he figured that everyone must have already gone back to their seats, treats in hand. He didn’t know if anyone else was still hanging around near them, but he didn’t want to look.

  “I’m okay,” he mumbled and took another sip.

  “Your lips are going blue.”

  She kept her voice low, relying on the limited space between them to ensure that she wasn’t heard by anyone else. It made her breath ghost across his skin like a tropical breeze. Shivering, he hurriedly drank more of the fluid. It felt like ice water had replaced his blood, and the pricking, numb sensation was quickly working its way up his legs. His face began to ache with the effort he took in squeezing his eyelids shut so tightly.

  “How long was I asleep?” he asked.

  “Not long,” she said before catching onto the real meaning of his question.

  The plastic covering of the seat squeaked as she slid closer to him, pressing her side against his. Even through the layers of clothing separating them, her body felt like a blazing bonfire, and he leaned in closer for the slight relief. He could feel the inhuman eyes upon him. Watching him. Almost as if the living shadows were right next to him. He longed to look, to assure himself that they weren’t that close. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that one more glance and he might just die of hypothermia.

  “We just got on the highway,” she said like an apology. “It’ll still be a few hours.”