already shown him that several times.”
“You are a very foolish girl if you think you are victorious in any way. You will not come out of this alive.”
“We’ll see about that.” I pull the phone away from my ear and press the button to end the call.
Zoë looks at me with a mixture of shock, pride and happiness on her face. “Wow. I had no idea you had that in you.”
Neither did I. “Hopefully there’s more where that came from.”
7. SECRETS AND LIES
“Why don’t you go take a quick shower and relax a little before your dad calls? You are wound so tight.”
Zoë is right. I'm nearing the end of my mental capacity. So much has been thrown at me in under twenty-four hours, enough to make anyone crack under the weight of it all. The journals are slowly presenting what lies ahead and the stress is weighing heavily on my mind. “Yeah, I think I will. You’re on phone duty.” I toss her the ancient looking cell phone before heading into the bathroom.
I turn on the shower and step up to the sink to look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a disaster. My forehead is covered in tiny beads of sweat. Dark circles surround my eyes. I rest my elbows on the counter and bury my face in my hands. I want to cry—to relieve some of the tension that is building inside of me. But my emotions fail me, leaving my eyes dry and my need for release unrequited.
I take off my clothes and throw them in a pile on the floor before removing the pendant and placing it on the counter. I climb into the shower and let the burning hot water rush over my skin, making me flinch. I fight the urge to turn the temperature lower and force myself to become used to the intense heat. I want to feel something else. Something that can erase all of the other things I feel. Something that isn’t anywhere near as terrifying as the creatures I saw in the journals and that I will soon have to face. Something that isn’t so full of raw emotion.
My skin slowly turns red as the water beats down on me. I tilt my head back to let the water soak through my hair. With my eyes half closed I fumble with the hotel supplied shampoo bottle, squeezing out every last drop to cover my long hair. The fragrance is a mixture of flowers and laundry detergent. I hate it. I can’t believe this is what I have to smell like on my journey. The conditioner isn't any better. If possible, it might be worse. I let it sit on my ends while I attempt to lather my body with the tiny bar of soap that has been provided to us.
The temperature of the water lowers quickly, taking my distraction away. I nudge the dial closer to the ‘H’, careful not to drastically increase the temperature.
As the skin-reddening heat returns, my mind lets loose and wanders. I imagine what it will be like to encounter creatures that I didn’t even know existed. I wonder how I will be able to defeat them. I have so many questions about dreamwalking that I am dying to ask my father. I have no idea what to expect at the colony and imagining what is in store for us makes me dysphoric.
The water begins to cool again. I turn the handle to increase the temperature but hit the end of the dial before I get it as hot as I want. A brief burst of heat flows from the faucet before it rapidly fades into a cold stream of water. Giving up, I turn off the water and reach for a towel, silently blaming Zoë for my short shower, not feeling at all relaxed, or even very clean. I towel dry my hair, run a comb through it then quickly braid it over my shoulder. My body is craving the comfort of pajamas. I am not thrilled about putting my jeans on again, but I have no choice.
When I walk back into the bedroom, Zoë is deep into a journal, her brows scrunched tightly together. She barely notices me. Her face grows more concerned as she reads. “What is it?” I ask, incredibly curious.
“These… creatures. They’re terrifying.”
“Great. Please tell me that book tells us how to defeat them and not just how dangerous they are.”
“Some of them, yes. Some of them it