Page 115 of Sweet Nightmare

As I run, I dodge ghosts and flickers, past and present and future, and pain. So much pain. But I just keep shoving it back down and keep going because students and teachers alike are following the path I’m cutting now.

Only the retrieval crew stays behind, packing up student remains so they don’t get left behind, either.

The hail gets bigger and harder the closer we get to the beach, but there’s no time and no place to take shelter anyway. So I duck my head, throw my hands up to shield myself as best I can, and keep going while Caspian and the others follow right behind me.

Past the main dorm, through the dense copse of trees that stands between the students and the fence, and finally—finally—through the brand-new opening in the fence to the beach beyond.

And then I run some more. I don’t stop—none of us do—until I make it to the loose sand right before the ocean meets the beach.

We’ve been running so hard for so long that my breath is whistling in and out like a freight train. I bend over, hands braced on thighs, and try to bring it back under control as I stare out at the roiling ocean.

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, but also the most perilous. Because the surf is churning in the storm, causing giant waves to continuously hit the shore. They kick up detritus and carry it up the beach in seawater that’s gone black and foamy. The roar of the sea is deafening, overwhelming, and I can’t help wondering—even with the portal—how we’re going to get everyone through this.

Each wave that rolls in is bigger than the last, and it’s only a matter of time before a tsunami comes crashing down and floods this whole part of the island.

I look around for Jude, for our friends, for my mother, but between the storm and the hundreds of people from all different times milling around, it’s an utter disaster out here. I can’t see shit.

At least not until my mother starts shouting my name through a megaphone.

I follow the sound through the crowd—and even manage to get past the Jean-Jerks unscathed—until I finally see my always impeccable mother drenched in rain, hair plastered to her head, and blood, which I’m pretty sure isn’t hers, streaked across her face. Next to her is a younger past version—all bright and shiny in a pair of pinstripe pants and a white button-up, with a backpack slung over her shoulder—and a future version, stooped with age, an afghan thrown over her shoulders.

For a second, I can only stare at these two versions of my mother that I don’t even recognize. But then something else catches my eye, and I turn to see my uncle Christopher standing next to her. Next to him is Jude, looking as broken—as defeated—as I feel.

I stumble toward them, calling his name as I go. But the storm is too loud and he can’t hear me—none of them can. At least not until I’m standing right in front of them.

“Clementine!” My mother looks dizzy with relief as she pulls me into her arms. “Oh my God. I was so worried that the nightmares had…”

She trails off as I hug her back, and though I’m relieved she’s okay, I’ve only got eyes for Jude, who is staring back at me like I’m the only lifeline he’s got.

“There she is!” I hear Uncle Christopher growl at him. “She’s fine. Now it’s time for you to keep your end of the bargain, Jude. Let’s go.”

At first, Jude doesn’t seem to hear him. He just keeps staring at me with haunted, kaleidoscope eyes.

“Clementine,” he whispers, and for the first time ever, I don’t mind that he’s used my real name. How can I when he makes it sound like I’m the most important thing—the only thing—in his world?

Even knowing what he told me, even knowing what we’ve somehow done, I can’t stop myself from reaching for him. From needing him.

He closes his eyes as my fingers brush against his hand, his face alive with an agony that slices me to the bone.

“Jude,” I whisper, clutching at him because I can feel him slip away. Even before he pulls his hand from mine.

And this time, when he looks at me, his face is completely blank.

“Jude,” I say again.

But he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he takes three steps back and just disappears.

CHAPTER SIXTY

ANY PORTAL

IN A STORM

I scream his name as I dive after him, but my mother grabs me around the waist as all three versions of Uncle Christopher quickly follow Jude into the portal.

“Let me go!” I tell her as I struggle against her.

But my mother has manticore strength, and she uses every bit of it to hold me tight as she orders, “Calm down, Clementine! You’ll see him soon enough.”

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