“What if they don’t stop the next time? And who was that lady? Did you see her?” Hailey asked.
I couldn’t unsee her.
Hailey’s voice rose. “She was hovering over the ground, Ada. People don’t dothat.”
“I know,” I replied, because it was the only thing I could say.
Hailey couldn’t be still, fidgeting anxiously. She was making it harder for me to think.
“What if she sends them after us?” She suddenly rushed to her alarm panel and activated it. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that if those things really wanted in, her home security system wasn’t going to keep them out.
I had no answers, only more questions and even more frustration. Just when I thought I was getting somewhere. I had foundevidence to show Nana that Naira was alive and she’d finally do something to bring Naira home. Then this. Attacked by ghouls.
She is gathering.
My body shuddered involuntarily. Gathering ghouls. This was more than I bargained for. It hit me that Nana Ama might have suspected this and tried to keep me on the Isle. I should have listened to her.
“Let’s just stay here together tonight. Tomorrow we’ll think of something,” I said, hoping I sounded like I knew what I was saying.
Before I settled down in the blankets I made into a sleeping bag, I sent Sekou a text.
Can u come get me tmrw
He answered me back in an instant with a thumbs-up. Then he asked what happened.
The story I had to tell could only be told in person.
Sleep was wishful thinking. I was on high alert with visions of the vacant eyes of the ghoul things, black lines all over them, chasing me, and thoughts of how they would have eviscerated Hailey and me if they hadn’t been stopped by the cloaked woman hovering over the ground.
I was alone in the living room, the remains of the sleepover we’d had evident from the crumpled blankets and pillows and the mounds of empty and half-finished take-out containers. I wasalready fully dressed and pacing a hole in the floor, my decision made.
Hailey had been in the shower and came downstairs, still drying her hair with her towel. “Once I have some coffee, then we can figure out what comes next,” she said. She rattled around in the kitchen. I followed her, leaning over the center island as she dropped a K-Cup in her Keurig.
“I’m going home,” I announced.
Her movements slowed as the words sank in. Then she started back up again. “Okay. Sure, of course. Go back to the safety of your island and leave me here with those—those zombie ghoulie things.”
I was about to make a huge mistake, and I had to say it fast before I had a chance to think it through, and by the time I’d realized I should have thought it through a little more, the words couldn’t be called back.
“I think you should come with. It’s not safe here with those ‘zombie ghoulie things,’ and until we figure out what they are, who that woman is, and what’s going on, maybe you should come with me. At least until after Naira’s Homegoing. Then my grandmother could maybe help us figure out what to do.”
I was already thinking of the excuses I’d make to Nana so she wouldn’t be pissed I was bringing a mainlander to stay without permission first. When I had the chance to talk to Nana directly and tell her everything, she’d understand. She’d want to help. She’d know what to do.
“I’ll just explain the whole situation and that Naira was your friend. I think she’d understand that.”
She probably wouldn’t. I’d probably be disowned. But Nana wouldn’t turn her back on someone in danger. Not after I told her what came after us.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I said, the idea gaining traction. I could tell Nana that Hailey was releasing Luke’s light too. That this was what Naira would have wanted. That would settle Nana down. “I think it’ll work.” It was more reassurance to me than to her.
Hailey rushed me, swooping me up into a hug and thanking me repeatedly. I inhaled the scent of her citrus shampoo, lingered in the feel of her.
“Thank you, Ada,” she said, squeezing me, her words muffled.
She let me go, and I plastered on a Kool-Aid smile. “No big deal.”
All the while I was thinking,Addae, you’re in some deep shit now.
