My head thumped dully in time with my alarm. I squeezed my eyes closed tighter and rolled away from the sound. My pillow wasn't effective enough to block it out. After a few more antagonizing beeps, I flung an arm out to smack it silent. The room was freezing cold away from my warm refuge. My arm touched the cold edge of the table. I snapped it back, heart hammering, and remembered.
What? What had I tried to remember. Something important. It wasn't a hit, more like a flash; a feeling that something was off. I pushed the blanket off; my clothes were stuck to me and drenched with sweat.
Blood. I blinked a few times. There should be blood on my chest. He cut me open.
He cut me open.
I flew off the mattress and tore my shirt off just as fast. Everything flowed violently, like someone had removed the final stick holding a dam back. My skin was as solid and uncut as it ever was. I ran my fingers down my chest; there had been a massive cut there, deep enough for me to be sure that my lungs would come out if I breathed deeply enough. Under the light, there were scars, just faint enough for me to make out. I sagged against the wall.
It had been real. Why was I home? Why was I okay? My phone was laid neatly next to the screaming alarm. Nine AM, Tuesday. I hadn't even been gone a day. I smashed the snooze button on my alarm and launched myself into the hallway.
"Dad?" I screamed as I took the stairs two at a time. "Dad!"
He didn't have work today. Or he shouldn't. Had someone hurt him, too, or had the man been bluffing.
"Da-"
"What, Evan?" He stuck his head out the door to the downstairs bathroom. "Whats going on?"
I threw my arms around his neck. He nearly fell onto me; I hadn't bothered to slow down. He patted the back of my head a few times before untangling us. "Whats going on? Did something happen?"
"I need to go talk to Sheriff Blackwell. Right now."
____________________
They let Dad sit with me, which made me feel both stupid and comforted. The meeting room was plain; the light oak of the walls matched the table. I popped my knuckles again, even though nothing happened. I had finished telling everything from start to finish. There was nowhere to look besides at the two officers in front of me. That just made me want to puke.
"Are you insinuating, Mr. Quidachay, that someone kidnaped you, interrogated you, and then returned you to your house without anyone noticing you were missing?"
I swallowed. "Damion was with me too. He can-"
"Evan, this is ridiculous!" His father exclaimed. "I saw you walk up the stairs last night when you got home from the library, like I told you before you wasted these men's time."
"I'm not making this up! I never went to the library and I don't remember ever coming home." I pushed my shoulders back. The words stung, sure, but not as badly as the memories of the cuts and bruised ribs. And the electricity. I tugged my jacket sleeves down and picked at the lint stressfully.
The two officers, McDonnell and Avery, exchanged doubtful glances. My hands clenched. Avery cleared his throat before shuffling the papers in front of him. "Doc, are you certain that it was your boy you saw going upstairs?"
Dad bristled. "He said goodnight to me. I'm sure I would recognize his voice, considering I raised him."
"What made you think I was at the library?" I asked quietly. "I never called."
Dad slammed my phone onto the table. I flinched and kept my eyes on it as McDonnell picked it up. "Check the time stamp. He called me yesterday afternoon around four and told me about a school project that he and the Lucille boy were working on."
It was there, from the looks on the officer's faces. Avery slid the phone back to dad, who pocketed it before I could reach for it. "Did you talk to Damion?"
"He's not home right now," Avery said. "It's a school day."
"He won't be there if you check," I insisted. "Called Madix Ramirez. We left at lunch and didn't come back. We have last period together."
"Evan, this is ridiculous," Dad sighed.
"Just call him, please," I begged.
They looked at each other. McDonnell stood, chair scraping back painfully loud in the silence, and gestured for me to stand as well. "Mr. Quidachay, come out here with me for a minute."
I followed, head down. We sat on one of the log, hard benches outside. The door shut firmly behind us, but I could imagine what was being said about me. McDonnell patted my knee and I resisted the urge to scoot back.
"Son, I was your age once too. It's completely normal to want attention from your father. I know him working so many hours a week must be hard on you."
"This isn't about me wanting attention," I snapped. "This is about the fact that someone kidnapped me and no one seems to think it's true!"
He sighed, like he had heard that one a million times. "Look kid, there's nothing we can do to prove it. Your dad says that you made that call, that you walked up the stairs after saying goodnight to him."
"I don't remember any of that!"
"Then maybe it was a nightmare, then, alright kid? Your Pops says that you still have pretty bad ones about the fire. Maybe you just had a rough day."
"It wasn't a dream!" I cried. "Just call Madix and Damion. They'll both tell you exactly what I did."
The door to our left opened. Dad stepped out and straightened his jacket smartly. He grabbed my shoulder and tugged me up. I crossed my arms over my chest when Avery patted my free arm as he passed.
"So, David, you might want to look into having someone professional talk about this, and the dreams." He shook dads hand and gave me another pitying look. "We wouldn't want to have a repeat incident of this, eh?"
I shoved away from all of them and walked back to the car. When dad made it back and cranked it up, I did my seatbelt. "I don't need counseling, if that's what you two were talking about."
"Evan," he started warily. "Maybe you do need to speak to someone. If you're willing to go this far to get me to talk-"
"Thats not it!" I nearly shouted. "You're not listening!"
"You know what, I think it's time that you listened!" Dad snapped back. He sped onto the road and slammed on the breaks at the red light. "Whatever you think happened, it obviously didn't. I don't know why you won't just admit that you lied, but its getting old."
"I didn't lie! They-" I was not going to cry. I couldn't finish the sentence and he took it as surrender.
"Where's the proof, hm? Or did the marks just disappear with some kind of magic pixie dust?"
Yeah, maybe they did. My nails dug into the skin on my palms. I kept my gaze locked on the scenery out of the window for the rest of the drive home. I made to get out of the car as we slowed to a stop in the garage, but Dad grabbed my arm.
"If you really want to play this game, then I'll bite." My heart lifted, just ever so slightly, before it was body-slammed down. "We'll treat this like there is someone out there trying to get you. You come home straight after school, every day, unless you have something for school that can't wait. You text me every time you have a break between classes. No going to Madix's house or hanging out with Damion Lucille. I want to know who you're with if you so much as step foot off campus, and who you invite over to the house on the weekends. Then we'll see how long this nonsense lasts."
_____________________
Madix crawled through my window at midnight, Romeo and Juliet style, followed closely by Damion. The latter flung himself onto my bed without a word; Madix squeezed me so tightly that I thought I would pop.
"What the hell happened to you?" He shouted in a whisper. "I can over earlier but you dad wouldn't let me in."
I sat down beside Damion's head. "The same thing that happened to Damion, I guess. Did he tell you anything?"
"Everything."
"Did they ask you about a case file and something about blocking a signal?"
"Only a million times," Damion mumbled into the comforter.
"Are you still hurt?"
He pushed himself up; the bruises and cuts had disappeared without a trace. The shadows under his eyes were gone and he almost, almost, looked healthy.
"This is insane." Madix sank to the ground and laid his head on my knees.
"Absolutely. But that doesn't mean that it isn't possible."
"What are we going to do?" Damion asked softly. "They said they weren't going to let us go. And then we woke up at home. Does that mean they're going to come back?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think what they gave you guys was just a sedative?" Madix turned his face up to look at me. I could almost see the gears turning in his head.
"No," I said. I stood and paced to my door. "I don't know. I mean, it fixed us, didn't it? And not just physically."
"What do you mean," Madix scrunched his eyebrows together. Damion sat up.
"You feel it too, right?" I asked him nervously, because what if it was just me? "I've been hyper-focused all day. It's like someone flipped a switch. Somethings different."
"Yeah, I know what you mean."
I clasped my hands behind my back as I made a path back and forth from my door. "The cops didn't believe me. Dad doesn't either. I don't know what else to do."
"We can investigate this on our own," Madix sat straighter.
Damion snorted and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Yeah, because our little investigations didn't already get us in enough trouble to begin with."
"Do we have another choice?" I turned to face both of them.
"No," Madix stood and dusted his faded jeans off. "But I think I know someone who knows more about Colton Incorporated than most employees."