Chapter 4

  His parents had believed in his little performance that night, and Ashe was quietly proud of it.

  But as he lay in bed, the night crawled by—painstakingly slow despite the exhaustion dragging at his bones. The pain refused to fade, and his thoughts refused to quiet. He kept cycling through what had happened: the way he’d felt pain before it came, the impossible healing afterward.

  Ashe had devoured every bit of portal news he could, his only way of staying connected to the outside world. Nothing had ever mentioned healing like that. Or powers. Or anything close.

  He’d have to test it. Research it. But only once his parents left for their next shift. For now he would act normal, hide the pain, and experiment in secret.

  He tossed and turned until the world outside began to shift. Birds chirped outside his window; a few minutes later, his tactile alarm buzzed and then blared, jolting him upright.

  He swung his legs out of bed and pushed himself up—and pain exploded in his leg and chest. He dropped back onto the mattress with a groan. For a second, he’d forgotten, moving on instinct.

  He clenched his jaw. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t be a bitch.”

  The pep talk didn’t magically help, but it got him moving. Each step sent a fresh wave of agony up his spine. By the time his hands hit the dresser, his legs were shaking and his lungs burned like he’d just sprinted a mile.

  He pushed through it. He didn’t have much time. His mom would be upstairs in a few minutes to make sure he hadn’t snoozed his alarm—again.

  He bit his lip as he reached for his clothes, opening a small cut. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth while he fumbled into his pants, then his shirt. His head felt light and floaty.

  Footsteps creaked on the stairs.

  He straightened as best he could, forcing his body to stand like nothing was wrong, and turned toward the door.

  It swung open.

  “Hello—” his mom’s familiar voice began, then cut off as she stepped in and brushed her fingers over his face.

  “What happened?”

  She’d felt the split lip.

  “I just…hit the bed,” he said quickly. “I’m fine.”

  He braced for questions, but they never came. Instead, she slipped back into routine.

  “It’s breakfast time. Remember, it’s the most important meal of the day.”

  He groaned. “I know.”

  He trudged down the stairs, pain tucked away behind a pearly-white smile. At the table, the familiar smells brushed past him, but all he could really feel was the throbbing in his ribs and leg. A second heartbeat.

  After the portals appeared, his parents’ faith had slipped—then vanished. Some people had turned more fanatical, digging deeper into belief. Not his parents. Religion was one more thing they’d quietly packed away and never mentioned again.

  They started breakfast in silence, and he took that as his cue to eat. Ashe hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the first bite. Bacon and eggs disappeared fast, almost shovelled. His mom finally broke the silence.

  “Slow down. No one’s going to steal your food.”

  He didn’t answer, but he forced himself to ease up, chewing instead of inhaling. His dad spoke next, voice brighter than usual—a rare thing since the portals.

  “How about a walk in the national forest?”

  Ashe grimaced before he could stop himself. He’d been begging for that trip, desperate for something that felt like his old life. But in his current state the idea of rough trails and uneven ground made his stomach twist.

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  Still, he had to sell the act.

  He knew what he was about to do was stupid—he was a terrible actor and he knew it. He slammed his good foot down on the bad one, riding the spike of pain and adrenaline that shot up his leg and using it to sharpen his voice.

  “Hell yeah.”

  Even he could hear how forced it sounded. Silence pressed in for a heartbeat, and a dozen horrible outcomes flashed through his mind.

  Then his mom spoke, bright and warm. “Goodie. I’ll pack you a lunch. Just remember your phone, so you can call if something happens.”

  This time, Ashe flinched for real, shrinking back in his chair. He could feel their attention sharpen on him.

  “I…can’t find it,” he said. “I think it lost battery.”

  He braced for a lecture about responsibility. It didn’t come.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll look,” his mom said instead. “Dad will bring his.”

  His shoulders loosened. They really were in a good mood today.

  -

  All the little daily tasks that usually slipped by without thought now sent shivers down his spine. Brushing his teeth made the pain in his chest bloom. Tying his shoes lit his leg on fire. Even shrugging into his coat left his arms trembling.

  But no one commented as he climbed into the car. His father settled into the driver’s seat beside him.

  “You ready?”

  Ashe stretched a smile over his face. “Yep.”

  “Good.”

  The car lurched forward, that familiar first pull of motion. He still didn’t like it, but he was used to it now; it no longer made him nauseous.

  “Did you hear a portal appeared around here yesterday?” his dad asked.

  The words slammed into Ashe. For a second his mind went blank, sweat slicking his palms as his heartbeat roared in his ears.

  But his father didn’t seem to notice—eyes on the road, voice still casual.

  “Someone cleared it, but no one’s figured out who. When the Jumpers arrived, it was already gone.”

  By the time he finished, Ashe had scraped together a response.

  “Cool,” he said.

  It wasn’t much. It was all he had.

  -

  The ride after that was awkward. Ashe kept thinking he could feel his father’s eyes on him, weighing every word he didn’t say.

  But as they neared the national park, that pressure seemed to fade.

  The car crunched to a stop on gravel. The fear trickling down Ashe’s spine eased—first hurdle cleared. He opened the door, slid his walking stick into his hand, and tapped the ground, checking for potholes or loose stones.

  He hopped down.

  Pain shot up his spine like a bolt of lightning. He tried to swallow it, but an involuntary “Oooff—” slipped between his clenched teeth.

  “You okay?” his father called from the other side of the car.

  “I’m fine,” Ashe lied.

  He used his father’s arm to reach the start of the trail. Once there, he let go and continued on his own, walking stick tapping steadily ahead. The sweet scent of pine and damp earth wrapped around him. He loved these walks, when he wasn’t secretly held together by pain and stubbornness.

  They chatted about everything and nothing, but Ashe’s mind was elsewhere: on tests, on theories, on what he’d felt in the portal.

  He needed to know if the…whatever-it-was—precognition, warning system, glitch—worked outside. Or if it only existed in that other place.

  But every idea looped back to the same problem: he’d have to test it with pain. With danger.

  They’d been walking maybe twenty minutes when his stick clanged against hollow metal. Trash can. He knew that sound. He took a deliberate step left, lining himself up with it.

  Nothing—no wrong pain, no warning.

  He quickened his pace and plowed straight into it, shin first, then hip. Air punched out of his lungs. Everything burned.

  His father’s voice came sharp with confusion. “Didn’t you hear it?”

  It wasn’t unusual for him to misjudge a distance or a step, but he could hear the confusion in his father’s voice this time.

  Ashe sucked in ragged breaths, half folded over. “Thought it was further left,” he managed. “My bad.”

  “Just be careful,” his father said. “Your mother will kill me if we don’t come back whole.”

  Ashe almost laughed. If you only knew how un-whole I am already. Instead, he just nodded.

  Maybe it hadn’t been enough. Not enough pain. Not enough threat.

  He tried again.

  Later, his stick dropped into a small hole. He jerked it out quickly, pretending he hadn’t noticed. Then he sped up.

  “Watch out,” his father warned.

  A beat later, that wrong pain flickered through his head—late, faint, more echo than shout. His foot slid into the hole anyway. His stomach lurched and he pitched forward, hitting the ground face-first. Gravel and sand scraped his skin; warm blood trickled down.

  Footsteps pounded toward him.

  He hurt, everywhere, but underneath the real pain, that other sensation had lingered.

  Fainter than before.

  But still there.

  As they sat in the car in silence, his whole body ached, but under the soreness a quiet thrill had begun to rise. It hadn’t just been his imagination. He had something. Something that warned him when pain was coming, flaring louder the worse it would be if he didn’t move.