Harmony House - Nic Sheff Page 0,51

got enough crazy shit to deal with in my life right now. I’ve got enough crazy fucking people.”

I start to walk away from her. I press the palms of my hands into either side of my head and the heat is burning me alive.

“I know about the dreams,” she says, calling after me. “I know about the visions. And I know about your father, too. You have to get out of that house. You have to leave tonight. If your father will come with you, then fine, but even if he refuses, you must get out tonight.”

I turn back to face her, my vision blurred from the heat consuming me. I feel like if I open my mouth I will spit fire. But only words come out.

“Where the hell am I supposed to go?” I yell, not caring who in the hospital hears me now.

She answers calmly.

“Go anywhere,” she says. “Come to the diner. You can stay with me. You can stay with me right now, if you want.”

She takes a step toward me, reaching out a hand.

“Stop it!” I yell even louder. “I can’t stand it!”

And then there is a piteous groan from the building’s foundation. The linoleum floor ripples like a swell coming in off the ocean. The whole building seems to jerk and shake. The walls rattle. One of the nurses from down the hall shouts, “Earthquake.”

I go on and run to the stairs with the red glowing EXIT sign and start down them, even as the loud rumbling and shaking go on and on. As I reach the bottom floor, the building goes still again and the change of movement makes me almost trip over my own feet, but I catch myself on the landing and start out through the main lobby, where everyone is scrambling in a million directions at once. I step through the automatic sliding glass doors. The rain is falling steadily now. The sky is all black.

I drive slowly, trying not to think about Rose and everything she said—though, I guess, I can’t help it.

Branches bend and break and the gutters overflow with leaves on either side of the road.

The sound of the windshield wipers is like my heart beating.

Rose’s words keep repeating over and over in my mind.

She knew about the visions. She knew about the dreams. She said she knew about my father.

And she’s right, of course—I have to get out of the house. I have to get out as soon as possible. And if my dad won’t come with me . . . I guess I’ll have to go without him. Not to Rose’s. That’s crazy. Maybe to Stephanie’s.

Jesus Christ.

I really don’t have anywhere to go.

But I have to go. I have to go somewhere.

As I pass through town I can just make out the boarded-up doors and taped shop windows and a few cars parked at the curb. The lights from the diner are still on—the neon sign a blur through the falling rain.

I make a decision then.

I’m going to ask my dad, once, to leave with me. I’m going to give him a chance. If he says no, I’m going to get my stuff, get in the car, and go. If he tries to stop me, I’ll call that sheriff. He’ll help me. I know he will.

I pass through the gates leading up to the house. The rain beats mercilessly against the car roof and windshield. The sound is like perpetual thunder. The sound is like the earthquake. I round the corner so the dimmest outline of light from the monstrous house comes into view. A chill runs through me. Then I see that one of the big oak trees has fallen halfway across the road. I swerve and the car accelerates as if on its own, back tires spinning so I careen off the embankment—hitting the front end hard so my neck snaps back and I slam sideways into the steering wheel. I taste blood in my mouth and my eyes start to close.

CHAPTER 15

Someone is there banging against the passenger window—banging louder even than the rain. My eyes adjust to the light—or absence of light. The door opens and the water washes in and the sound of the wind is like a river. But then I hear a voice and there are hands grabbing hold of my wet clothes and pulling me free.

It’s Colin.

I wrap my arms around him and he says, “Okay, I got you.” And he lifts me out onto the road. My