The Reverse of Everything Page 19

  “Guys?” I said quietly as my stomach twisted into a knot.

  The rig stayed in our lane as West swerved again, maybe trying to signal to the driver. I slowed down, I didn't know what else to do.

  The rig got closer.

  Celeste woke, bleary-eyed and groggy. “What’s going on? We there?”

  The rig got closer and West jerked the truck.

  The rig swerved and West drove off the road to hit the ditch, but he wasn't fast enough.

  We came to a complete stop as the rig smashed into the driver door of the blue truck, tipping it over and sending it into the ditch before driving over top of its side.

  Metal screamed loud enough for us to hear it.

  My mouth was open. I didn't think I was breathing but a yell tore from my lips.

  “Oh no, not these crazies again. Zoey, drive!” Milo screamed, shaking me. My fingers trembled as I forced myself to grip the steering wheel. “DRIVE!” he shrieked.

  I stomped on the gas, lurching the truck forward as the engine roared.

  The trucker drove off the mangled blue truck and onto a field next to us.

  It turned right, coming our way and sending dust and grass spraying as it flew along the field. Men screamed and waved from the windows like they were a band of pirates, shooting at our truck as I drove as fast as I could. A bullet hit the truck, sounding like a rock from a nearby car spraying at us. The rig drove off, likely unable to get back onto the road because of the hugely deep ditch it had crossed on top of the blue truck.

  I slammed on the brakes when we got to the blue truck. All three of us jumped out, my legs were jelly and I stumbled but managed to stay upright.

  “No, no, no, no, no, no!” I chanted as I got to the driver’s door. I climbed onto the truck, already smelling something foul. Poop or something like it. Maybe vomit.

  Through the spiderweb of glass, I saw blood and forms, but no one moved. My fingers bled as I ripped into the glass, pulling at shards to get to them. When I dragged the window out, I screamed. “No!”

  West was limp, his beautiful face motionless, and there was blood everywhere.

  “No, no, no, no!”

  His eyes fluttered and for a second, he turned his head to mine. He smiled but there was blood in the crease of his lips. “I love you,” he mouthed, no sound came out. “I won’t leave you,” he managed a sound but it wasn’t his voice. It was a gargle.

  “No. You’re gonna be okay,” I lied.

  His stomach had something through it, red and glossy metal and pieces of truck I couldn't name. The roof had clearly come down on them, squishing them. I slid my greasy fingers over his cheeks and kissed his soft lips. “I love you too. I love you too! Don’t go!”

  “I won’t go,” he whispered, staring at me until his words became a lie.

  He was gone.

  “No,” I whispered, stroking his face. It was like touching Mrs. Henry. He wasn't in his body.

  “Zo,” Owen whispered as though his voice was made of the wind. He was pressed into the dirt at the bottom of the truck, where the window had been ripped out. “Zo.” His fingers moved like he wanted to reach for me. But he couldn't. I dove forward, lying on West and pressing my hands into Owen’s bloody palm.

  “Owen! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. “Owen, we have to get you out. Don’t move, okay!” I shouted, squeezing his hand. The bones in his fingers moved differently, clicking.

  “No. The letter,” Owen whispered. “Read the letter.” His words were fluid and bubbly. “Promise me. Read the letter, Zo.” His eyes fluttered and his mouth twisted in pain.

  “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. We should’ve stayed home.” I closed my eyes and gripped my boys. My loves. They were leaving without me.

  Rozzy coughed, almost like she was coming back to life. “Zo?” She lifted her head and smiled. “That was aggressive. What the fuck? Are the guys okay?” She moved, and I couldn't see any wounds beyond her head being slightly swollen and her face covered in blood. She fit perfectly into the pocket the back seat had made.

  “We gotta get you out.” I tried to focus. “We gotta get you and Owen out.”

  “Okay.” She moved a little. “I think my leg’s broken.” She moved again, crying out in pain. “Yeah. It’s stuck too. I can’t get it out.” She pushed on the seat, making Owen jerk a little.

  “Zo,” he groaned and fluttered his eyes before focusing on me. His stare was intense and alert. “I loved you too. Always, Zo. Always. Remember always?” He said the one thing he knew would resonate with me. One word that would show me how much he loved me. The only tattoo I ever wanted to get, the one he said he would get with me.

  My eyes pulsated with the need to cry as I realized Owen wasn't getting out of the truck. With a terrible noise and a huge scream, he flung his arm and reached his hand out to take West’s bloody fingers. “I love you both,” he said and closed his eyes.

  His fingers went slack and I crumpled for a second before chaos came for round two.

  “Zoey!” Celeste shouted, grabbing at my leg. “They’re coming back!”

  “Zoey, help me get out!” Rozzy panicked.

  I snapped to life like a switch flipped on inside me, trying to yank on the seat as if my dead friend wasn’t still there.

  “ZOEY!” Celeste shouted again. “The truck is coming back! They got across the ditch!”

  “I gotta get Rozzy out!” I shrieked and ripped at the seat.

  “No,” Rozzy grabbed my hands and squeezed, pausing. “Go.” Her eyes were wide with fear.

  “No, we’re not leaving you.”

  “Go, Zo! Go now!” Rozzy realized what was happening well before I did. “I’ll pretend I’m dead. Come back for me. They just want to rob us. I’m sure of it.” Her lip trembled but I didn't move. “GO!” she screamed at me shoving me hard.

  “Okay. We’ll come back,” I promised, certain I could keep that promise. “We’ll come back.” I slithered out of the truck, scraping myself on the door.

  Celeste dragged me up to our truck where Milo and Stan were in the front seat.

  I didn't even have the door closed when he stomped on the gas. I watched out the back window as the rig tried to catch up, but Milo drove like a savage. Eventually, they gave up, as the distance between us got farther and farther.

  Milo drove until we came upon a paved road. He turned and parked at some old abandoned hay storage in the middle of nowhere. It was weather-beaten and falling over. It was the loneliest thing I’d ever seen.

  Milo sat, staring at the steering wheel as tears dripped silently down his cheeks. His body trembled every now and then. Celeste who had been heaving her breaths and sobbing, started to shake. She made the entire truck wiggle with her endless crying.

  But I didn’t cry.

  I couldn't.

  The lump in my throat was as swollen as it could get, but the tears didn't come.

  The scene played out over and over as I tried to make sense. But there was none.

  An hour ago, his lips had pressed against mine and now they were cold.

  Owen and West were gone.

  The letter.

  Determined to ensure I fulfilled the one thing he asked of me, I jumped out of the truck and climbed into the box, noting the pain in my fingers for the first time as I clawed at the bag of Owen’s clothes. I rifled through them until I found the letter. My blood stained the envelope as I pulled it out and held it with shaking fingers. The cold wind rippled the paper as I read aloud.

  “My Zoey girl. I’m so sorry. I have to go and do something really important. I’ve stocked the house with food and filled the car with gas. I’ve left a thousand dollars in my room, in my nightstand, in the Bible I never once opened before this moment. I think I regret that. I wish I could stay with you, take care of you. But let’s be honest. You have Owen. He’s better at everything in life than both of us put together. And his parents won’t let me take him. I asked. His dad screamed at me. He’s a terrible man. I’m starting
to think he’s the reason this is happening. The terrible people like him.” I paused and gathered my hitching breath.

  The wind whistled, loud and cold and alone. It made me shiver, but I forced my gaze back to the paper.

  “Zoey, I have something really hard to tell you. Your dad didn't just leave us.”

  My crumbling heart stopped, causing me to groan in pain.

  “He had two families all along. I didn't know.”

  I reread the sentence so many times, I stopped understanding what it meant.

  Two families? Like a divorce?

  “He would tell us both he had to travel for work, which he did, but not nearly as much as he liked to pretend. I discovered he has a wife and a son. A boy a year older than you. His name is Jack. When I caught him, he took her and moved her as far away as he could before I could tell her. It’s why he left so suddenly and never came back. About a year ago, I paid a private investigator to find them. He did. They live in Boise, Idaho. A farm on the outskirts. The address is 2700 South Orchard Access Road. I’m going there, Zo. I’m going there to make sure he ends up in hell and his wife and son know what he did to you and me. I owe you this. And he owes us.”

  I paused and stared at the barren landscape of brush and prairie, processing this information.

  “I love you so much and I need you to know that.” I read the line and sobbed dryly. “Take care of Owen. He loves you more than any single person on this planet.” The sob grew and something in me cracked. I closed my eyes and the dam broke. I heaved as a ball of tears snaked up my throat and burst from me in a painful eruption. No noise left my lips though I heaved and cried, closing my eyes while my body squeezed every drop of tears from me. Years’ worth of them.

  “Zoey,” Milo whispered as he climbed into the truck. He pulled me into his arms, cradling me. I shoved the paper at him. “Read it, please.” I couldn't see anything.

  “There.” I pointed to where I was, leaving a bloodstain on the word “planet.” “He loves you more than any single person on this planet. I know you don't believe in heaven, Zo, but it’s there. I promise you. And I will be waiting for you there. I hope you can forgive me for keeping this terrible secret from you. It seemed like the right choice when I was young, and now, I’m not so sure. I think I made everything worse. I love you and I will always love you.” Milo turned the paper over, wiping away his own tears as his lip trembled. “It’s from Owen.”

  “Read it,” I demanded, shaking from the outpouring of soul-crushing pain.

  “Dear Zoey, your mom left this, this morning and I know you won't want to read it, but I’m going to force you. Some day. She missed a couple of things. I thought I would make sure you knew them. I don't just love you more than any single person in the world, I love you more than the word “love” can encompass. You’re my best friend and honestly, I think you’re my soul mate. I think God fucked up and made us soul mates and I should be pissed. But I’m not. Because no matter what, we have each other. To the end! Always. Love Owen, the handsomest guy you ever met.” Milo sobbed and laughed simultaneously.

  I just cried.

  And cried.

  Because there was nothing else to do.

  There, on the side of the road, next to the loneliest building I’d ever seen, I died. It was a death of sorts. A death of heart and hope and love.

  25

  Darkest stars

  Celeste

  The drive back to the blue truck was silent.

  The drive away from them, leaving them to die in the truck, had been brutal. It was rushed breaths and pounding hearts, and Stan barking and crying.

  But the ride back was deathly quiet.

  My heart and stomach took turns residing in my throat.

  I needed Rozzy to still be alive.

  There was no way Owen was.

  And we all knew West was gone. The idea of it, him missing from the world, made me angry. I wasn't sad, I was filled with rage. I couldn't explain it. I wanted blood. And revenge. And even then, I didn't think it would be enough.

  Not that it mattered. There was no recovering from this moment. We would all be different, changed from pain.

  Zoey was gone, a shell in the form of a tear- and blood-stained girl.

  She would come back, but she would never be the same again.

  And as I had before, I felt my shift, my change. I was someone else again. Someone harder and scarier and less forgiving.

  I hated this world and this girl and this pain.

  Stan leaned in, licking my arm as if to tell me to stop. He sensed the hatred filling me and wanted me to stop.

  When the wreckage came into view, Zoey gagged. Milo stifled a sob, slowing the truck down. I trembled with every bad emotion I had in me.

  The rig was nowhere to be found. The dirt scars it had left in the earth were there, the wreckage of our friends was there, but the rig was gone.

  We climbed out, all of us silent. Stan sniffed the air, perhaps testing for the smell of those bad people or for life. Maybe checking to see if Rozzy had been able to hang on.

  Milo walked to the truck first, peering inside and gagging. He turned and forced Zoey away, his eyes meeting mine. “Don't look. Rozzy isn’t here.”

  “What?” I turned in a circle, searching for her. Had she climbed out after they left? Could she be crawling across the barren shrubs of the prairies?

  “I need to see them!” Zoey popped back to life and fought Milo. “I need to see!”

  “They’re not in there, Zoey!” He grabbed her arms and shook her. “They took them away from us. They’re not in there.” He stared her in the eyes, shouting until she stopped. “They took them all.”

  Zoey collapsed in his arms. I felt sick for her. Not only had Rozzy ruined the last memory she had of the boys, but she and Owen hadn’t been able to patch things up. He’d died.

  She sobbed, crying again, for what I had to assume was the second time since her dad left.

  The letter from her mom had been awful. Owen had lied to her about what was inside it. The whole thing was a mess.

  Zoey was a mess and I wasn't sure she would ever be okay. Not that there was time for her to heal. She had two and a half weeks left.

  Two and half weeks she was supposed to spend with a boy she was starting to feel things for. A boy she lost her virginity to. A boy whose worth and devotion every person on the planet deserved to feel at least once. I still had not felt that.

  “Get back inside. In the truck!” Milo forced us into the truck and closed the door. The way he closed his eyes and slumped against the truck for a moment told me something was wrong. Very wrong.

  He was holding something back. Hiding something.

  My eyes drew to the mangled truck. It was worse than before. Cut up maybe. I guessed at what he’d seen. They’d cut the truck up, maybe to try to get Rozzy out. Maybe they’d taken her. And maybe they’d left the boys where they were as they ripped the truck apart. And maybe no one needed to see that, but they didn't deserve to be left there, no ceremony, no burial.

  No.

  I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I moved like my body had switched to autopilot. I climbed back out, walking past Milo who was now sobbing. I grabbed one of the shirts from Owen’s bag, not one of the ones he’d worn but a crisp and clean one. Then I tipped one of the gas cans Helen had filled for us and unscrewed the lid, fighting the need to shiver against the cold wind.

  This was a cruel landscape. Not the kind of place a person wanted their service to be.

  Pouring gasoline onto the shirt, letting it spill onto the road, I soaked the fabric and pushed the can back. Continuing on autopilot, I jumped down and walked to the truck. The gas flap had been ripped off, exposing the mangled cap. It took me several tries to get it unscrewed, but eventually, I did it and stuffed the shirt into the tank, hanging the fabric down into the gas.

  “She’s really not in here?” I asked.

  “Nope. I think they took her.”

  “Lighter?
”

  “Yeah.” Milo wiped his eyes and scrambled around to the back, fishing in the bags until he found one. He came to me, holding it out but scowling. “I’ll light it. Your hands are soaked. Go wash them and move the truck ahead so the explosion doesn't hit us.”

  “Okay.” Still feeling like I was being pushed and pulled by unknown forces, I did just as he said.

  “What are you doing?” Zoey asked from the back seat where she was snuggled into Stan.

  “I’m going to tell you something horrible.” I glanced over the seat as I put the truck into drive and moved us far enough away. When I parked, I leaned over the seat and stared at her, tears seeping from me. “The boys are in there.” She moved to climb out, but I grabbed her fast, striking like a snake and rushing my words, “But you can’t see them. You don't want to remember them like that. We’ll burn the truck, give them a cremation.” My voice cracked.

  “Rozzy really isn’t in there?” Zoey, the girl who never cried, couldn't stop.

  “No. Milo thinks they took her.”

  “The guys are dead?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed though I had only Milo’s guesswork. A guess I felt quite certain about.

  “Owen always wanted a Viking funeral.” She laughed but the tears rushed from her eyes.

  “Of course he did. Come on.” I took her hand and pulled her out. Stan followed, clinging to her like he knew. We stood behind the truck, watching over the box as Milo lit the shirt and turned, sprinting to us.

  He made it, hiding and watching from our perch with us as we waited. It took longer than I thought it would for the truck to burst, creating a huge explosion and sending flames shooting everywhere. We ducked, Stan crouched and barked.

  As it died down to just a large bonfire, we got closer. Close enough to smell the burning rubber and fabric and leather and plastic. It was so strong I couldn't smell flesh, thank God.

  Zoey closed her eyes, perhaps praying. I slipped a hand over hers, holding her.

  She walked forward, dragging me with her as she pulled out the letter, gripping it. I thought she might burn it, but she just shouted up at the sky, breaking my already battered heart, “I loved you more than anything too. I loved you both.”