Dust drifted up from the bottom of the locker when I pulled the book out and flipped it open. The scent of mildewing paper wafted up to me. My nose twitched, and I couldn’t suppress a sneeze. With watery eyes, I brought the strange equations on the page into focus. In another life, I would have learned what the things in this book meant. Would I have likedchemistry?
I’d enjoyed the science Randy taught me, hadn’t been the biggest fan of history, but math was fun. I probably would have enjoyed chemistry. Maybe, I would have been a doctor or a scientist or someone who wore a white lab coat. No one wore white anymore, it drew too much attention, but maybe the Wren in that nonexistent other life would have likedwearingit.
No, I wouldn’t have been Wren in that life. I would have been an entirely different woman with a whole different name. Maybe, I would have had a husband and home by now, perhaps a child or two. I could almost see that home, almost hear the love I was certain would have filled it. My parents would have come over to laugh as they watched their grandchildren toddlingaround.
Now the water in my eyes had nothing to dowithdust.
Slamming the book closed, I shoved it into the locker and closed the door on that imaginary life. This was why Wilders stashed away personal items in homes before they established them as safe houses.Noone wanted to think about the could have beens of their lives and the losses they’dendured.
Resolving not to look into any more lockers, I stalked down the hallway. My eyes roamed over the small glass windows in every classroom door. The footprints of those who had searched this hall earlier were the only things disturbing the dust coating the floor. The spiders had made this high school their home for fourteen years, and they were not thrilled with my interruption. Their eyes followed me as they watched me from the thick webs they’d woven across the ceiling and in the corners of thedoorways.
Without the lockers to distract me, my mind wandered to what I’d seen by the closed gateway.The horsemen, all elevenofthem.
I shuddered at the reminder of what was out there, seeking to destroy us all, just as we sought to destroy them. I recalled Lust’s power creeping over me, and icy fingers swept down myspine.
Brushing aside some cobwebs, I found myself inexplicably drawn toward another locker.Why are you torturingyourself?
I had no answer for that as I pulled up the handle and the door swung open. This locker was full of decorations and stickers so faded I could barely make out what they said. Beads, necklaces, and other things now dulled by age hung from the hook on the inside ofthedoor.
I wiped away the dust coating one of the necklaces to reveal the shiny blue and green beads beneath. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, and I almost pulled the necklace free to slip it on. Instead, I let it go and turned my attention to the rest of the locker’scontents.
A small box sat within. When I flipped it open, I found more jewelry stashed inside. I didn’t know what compelled me, but I closed the lid and slipped the box into my pocket. Carrying around things I had zero use for was a fool’s game, yet I found I liked the weight ofthebox.
Only one book was in the locker, and when I wiped away the dust on it, I discovered it was a magazine instead of a book. Closing the door, I moved on to the next locker and then the next. I felt consumed by this compulsion to see into the lives of the teenagers who had once roamed thesehalls.
Their lives would have been so simple, so easy that I imagined they had laughed every day. The ghostly echoes of their laughter floated around me. However, the more I searched, the less I believed laughter had filled thesehalls.
Some of the lockers lacked anything personal within, and only books marked the person who once made this tiny space their own. Others had angry words scrawled inside like,I hate it here. I hate my life. Fuck this place. Fuck the world. Mrs. Dooble is aBITCH!!!!
Well, Mrs. Dooble is probably dead, so there is that, I thought as I closed the locker on the hatred within. I felt inexplicably sad for the teens who had roamed these halls. I stopped envisioning happy, laughing people, and started seeing ones who slunk miserably through these colorlesscorridors.
What had high school been like for them? How many had survived the opening of thegateway?
They were questions I’d never have answers for. I could ask some of the older Wilders what they’d experienced in high school, but I knew I wouldn’t. The past was rarely, if ever, discussed. Some wounds never healed, and tearing them open again to satisfy my curiosity was unfair andcruel.
Sparkles and unicorns decorated the next locker. Inside were smiley face stickers with cute sayings like,Today is the first day of the rest ofyourlife.
What does that even mean?The owner of this locker hadn’t survived the first day of Hell being open, I decided before moving on. I was opening the door of the next locker when I became acutely aware of non-spider eyesfollowingme.
The uptick of my pulse and the tingles racing over my flesh alerted me to who it was before I spotted Corson leaning against the doorframe at the end of the hall. My mouth went dry, and I opened the next locker to distract myself from hispresence.
“Spying on me?” I inquired as I carefully closed the emptylocker.
“Making sureyou’resafe.”
“I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself safe. I’ve made it this farafterall.”
“You don’t have to do that alone anymore,” hereplied.
I didn’t respond as I opened the next locker. I said I was fine with being alone, but had I subconsciously left the gym because I’d hoped he would comeafterme?
Was it really subconscious? That annoying little inner voiceprodded.
ChapterThirty-Six
Wren
“What are you doing?” Corson inquired, his voice coming closer as I stared at the plastic doll hanging from a shoelace in the center of the locker. “That’s… ah, interesting,” he said over myshoulder.
