Page 49 of Norah

I tap out a message and pray that he sees it soon.

There’s something in the apartment. Someone. I’m in the bedroom. Not sure what to do.

Eyes glued to the screen, my heart jumps as his answering message appears.

Get out if you can. Hide if you can’t. Coming home now.

I glance at the window. We’re five stories up. If I jump, will I be OK? What if the noise alarms whoever is here, and they find me injured on the street, unable to run? Then a greater fear grips my chest. What if Ethan comes home and gets attacked by whatever or whoever is in the apartment? Maybe I should make a run for it. I glance from the window to the door, undecided. I can’t decide. But I need to.Now.

Then the decision is made for me. The bedroom door knob turns, jolting me out of my stupor.I will not stand by helplessly against this unknown enemy.

In a flash, I swipe my hand towards the dresser and snatch up the nearest possible weapon. The wooden jewelry box is heavy in my grip, and I tense in anticipation as the door opens further…

Decisions

ETHAN

Fuck. I need to get home. Now.

Panic is a living thing as it claws its way up through my chest. Everything in the conference room fades into the background; voices a wave of intelligible conversation. My vision blurs until all I can see is the glowing message I just received.Someone is in our apartment. With Norah. I don’t need to know more details to understand that it’s bad.

The grim prophecy that Roman predicted is here; the truth resonates deep in my bones. I feel a hand touching my arm, hot against the sudden chill that’s taken over my body. My hands are like ice, the phone slipping from my grip to land on the table in front of me. The sudden loss jolts me into action, and I leap up from my seat. The once familiar faces around me are now strangers, as I focus all my attention on getting to Norah.Fast.

Rushing from the room, I try to push down the rising panic to form a plan. I know I can’t just zap myself out of the crowded office in plain view of dozens of people milling about. But my instincts are screaming togo now, go now, just go.

I also understand that trying to teleport myself without seeing a target is a recipe for disaster. The first and last time I tried teleporting through a wall, it ended up with me inside a public restroom instead of the open sidewalk I had planned. My brain is short circuiting, seconds passing like hours, as I stand frozen in the hallway.

I mentally slap myself.Stop wasting time. Get your shit together and move now.

I pray the lost seconds aren’t the difference between life and death. At a dead run, I rush to my office and slam the door shut, locking it. I dash over to the window and look outside, searching for a viable target. My eyes scan the sidewalks at first, trying to find a space to land.

People are everywhere, packing the streets during the early afternoon commute home. Too many people to teleport between.Fuck. Then I realize the obvious solution and want to smack myself. We did this before, during our trip up to the World Trade Tower.The rooftops.

I pick out a roof deck several buildings over and push my will forward. In an instant I’m there, energy surging along with my frantic need to get home to Norah. I’ve never teleported with such urgency before, and it makes my whole body thrum with power. Fear intensifies the energy flowing through me.

I move from one roof to the next, faster than I could have ever imagined. But it’s still not fast enough. My mind races with questions. How long has it been since she texted? What’s happening now?Hurry, hurry, hurry.

I’m getting closer to our apartment, maybe ten blocks to go. Knowing I’m practically there, I push myself further, teleporting longer distances than I’ve ever done in the past. Building to building in the briefest of flickers. As soon as I spot a target, I’m there.Faster, faster, faster.

On one rooftop, I encounter a scrawny cat that hisses at me, angered by the sudden intrusion. I wonder what an observer would think. A man in a tailored suit appearing from nowhere, frantic, determined. Moving from one location to the next in an erratic pattern. I’d worry about being spotted if not for my single-minded focus on reaching Norah.

Finally, I reach my apartment building. I’m not sure how long it’s actually taken, five minutes or an hour; I can’t take the time to glance at my phone to check. My heart is thundering along in time with my gasping breath. I’m not tired from the trip; rather gripped by a terrible fear of what I may find inside.I have to get to Norah.

The entire trip from my office to here, this feeling of dread has increased until its weight is almost choking me.Why didn’t I take Roman more seriously? Why was I determined to rationalize what he said?A tiny part of my brain tries to reason with the panicked beast inside me, suggesting that maybe I’m overreacting.Maybe it’s not as bad as I think. But Iknow.Something is horribly wrong.

From the roof, it’s only the tiniest of flashes to the ground. Once there, I debate the best strategy for getting inside. I can run around the back of the building and teleport through the window, but I’m not positive about which ones are for our apartment. I’malmostpositive, but an error would be costly. Or I can go inside and run up the five flights; slower but more certain in its accuracy. Which approach will be better against what is inside?

A terrifying idea emerges.What if she isn’t here anymore? How long has it been? Did Norah text again, and I missed it?I need to find out before rushing forward. With a shaking hand, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone.

The same tiny voice of reason says,maybe she’s already sent a message saying it was nothing. A misunderstanding. Maybe she’s fine, and you freaked out over nothing. But when I look at the screen, there’s nothing new, nothing that can ease my fear.Fuck. The beast within shoves reason to the side, silently bellowing.I’m on my way. Hold on, just hold on.

NORAH

As soon as the door opens, I make my move.

Before my nerves can make me hesitate, I slam the jewelry box upwards as hard as I can. It smashes into my target with a splintering crash; the force sending reverberations all the way back through my arm and shoulder. Shards of wood jab into my hand, sending pricks of pain I ignore.

The man-now I see it’s a man- stands in the doorway, unmoved by my attack. Small rivulets of blood trickle down the side of his face, but his expression is unsurprised. The remains of the box lay in pieces at his feet. He fills almost the entire doorway, leaving almost no room for escape.Now what?

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