Problem solved.
Having no more credible reasons to delay, I dropped down into a crouch. As I pulled off my gloves, I couldn’t help pointing out the obvious.
“There’s no guarantee this will work, Cade. It’s not like touching a human being. Most of the time, when I touch an object, nothing happens. There needs to be a very strong emotional trace in order to trigger a vision.”
“Only asking you to try, Goldie.”
“I just don’t want to disappoint you if?—”
“Not possible,” he cut me off.
Damn and blast.
There he went, being nice again.
I set my gloves down on the ground, took a deep breath, and reached out to touch the rubber grip of the handlebar, where a small boy’s fingers would wrap as he rode.
Dazzling violet starbursts erupted in my eyes.
I blinked once.
And disappeared into Rory’s head.
The boy is scared, but he doesn’t let it show. The woods are darker than he thought they would be. There are no streetlights here to illuminate the shadows.
He doesn’t want his brother to yell at him again, so he’s keeping back from the group. Off the path, in the trees. Out of sight. He can hear the older boys up ahead, laughing as they head deeper into Salem Woods. Their flashlight beams bounce over tree trunks in the distance.
He pedals faster, not wanting to lose them in the dark. His tire hits an unseen divot and his bike pitches forward. He tries to brake, but it’s too late. He sprawls, headfirst, over his handlebars. He hits the ground hard, the impact snatching the wind from his lungs.
His palms shred on the rough earth. His candy bucket topples, spilling his precious loot in all directions. Sticks tear at his space suit. Tears gloss his eyes at the sudden shock of pain.
But he is determined.
He won’t be left behind.
Not tonight.
He’ll show Declan he’s no baby. And he’ll get the last laugh, in the end. When he sneaks up on them during the ghost story…
They’ll all scream.
They’ll all be the scaredy-cats, then.
Not him.
The thought makes him forget all about the pain. He gathers his scattered candy bars, shoving them back into his bucket before he loops it over one arm. He has no choice but to leave his bike behind. The chain is off its track and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
Mom always does it for him.
He clicks on his flashlight and continues on foot, grinning to himself as he moves through the dark trees, following the sounds of laughter up ahead.
The vision faded out.
When I came back to myself, I was slumped in Cade’s arms, the earthen ground hard beneath us, a tree trunk at our backs. He must’ve grabbed me the second I was swept away.
I dropped my head into my hands, biting my lip to contain a frustrated scream. I’d gotten practically nothing from the vision. Nothing useful. Just a few seconds of Rory, and absolutely no clues about what had happened to him.
“Imogen?” Cade’s voice was soft.