#strat writes

Had he caught her? John had probably caught her and pulled her away at the last moment, and Caitlin must have patched her up. Clarice reached under the camisole she was wearing and touched…skin. No bandages, no stitches, just puckered skin. No way.

She had been shot three times? Four times? Was she supposed to have kept count? Her fingers scrabbled now, hunting for the holes that she knew had been punched through her back. Nothing except raised skin. It was as if the wounds had been healed for a few weeks, but she knew they were fresh. She couldn't have been out that long, could she?"

Fear rushed through her.

"John!"

Clarice looked around the room for him as she swung her legs over the side of the cot. He wasn't there. No one was. It was a small and cozy empty room, with walls that looked like they were made out of some kind of light wood. They were covered in papers and drawings and bits of cross-stitch, and there was a table on the other side of the room. A couple doors. Bundles of dried flowers hung from the ceiling. A stuffed animal was crumpled on the ground next to the bed, an old floppy sad-eyed puppy that looked vaguely familiar.

She stood up and instantly regretted it as her legs crumpled beneath her. Her chin grazed the edge of the cot as she hit the floor, but she managed to hook her arm against the frame so she didn't sprawl out completely.

Something creaked behind her, and sunlight flooded into the room as one of the doors opened, sending the sunbeams racing across the faded carpet and dashing over her. She shrunk back and blinked against the light, unaccustomed to the brightness after a couple weeks in the sewers.

"What's going on?" she demanded in her creaky old lady voice. Oh shit, had she been asleep so long she was elderly now? In a daze, she looked down at her hand, checking for wrinkles and sun spots. Nope, she was good. "Where's John?"

"Good morning, sleepyhead," said a calm, amused voice. "Not sure who John is. Or who you are for that matter…"

Clarice frowned and looked up, tightening her grip on the edge of the cot. A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway, framed by the sunlight. She stepped inside, and Clarice caught a glimpse of two kids peeking through the door before they both sped off.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the woman said, leaving the door open behind her. She spread her hands open in a gesture of goodwill, but Clarice wasn't one to trust easily.

"Yeah, and I guess I'll just take your word for it," she groaned. Unhooking her arm from the cot, she settled on the floor and scooted so she could press her back against the wall.

"You could," the woman said, "Or you could just consider the fact that you're not a bleeding, mostly dead mess anymore. Maybe that's a point in my favor? Though that wasn't me, exactly."

"Could you slow down?" Clarice asked. John would've have been at her bedside if he was there, and knowing he wasn't put her on edge, even with everything they had gone through lately. "I don't understand what's going on."

"What's the last thing you remember?" the woman asked. She came closer and then sat down on the floor in front of Clarice. She was wearing bellbottoms and a sleeveless shirt, both in shades of orange. Her grey-streaked copper hair was caught in a braid that she pushed back behind her shoulder. "You have to remember something, right? Details shouldn't start fading right away."

Clarice narrowed her eyes. "Tell me about this place first."

"Ooo, I'm not sure you're ready for that," the woman said, smiling and drawing a breath through her teeth at the same time.

Clarice paled, and the woman held up her hands, drawing up onto her knees. "Oh, no, no, you're not dead. This is just…a place."

Clarice put her head back against the wall. "Wow, it's all clear to me now." This should've been the time for a headache to start creeping in.

"I'm sorry, we don't get many visitors that stay," the woman said, "So, regrettably, we don't have a welcome script prepared."

Her gentle sarcasm made Clarice look over at her again. She had sat back down on the floor cross-legged, her elbows resting on her knees.

"Fine. But you could tell me something. Anything."

"I know this must be overwhelming for you, but we really don't mean you any harm. I'm Elspeth Cole."

"Elizabeth?"

"Close," the woman said with a grin. "Elspeth. Or just El works. It was a family name."

"El, then," Clarice said, "Can you tell me what's going on? Like how I got here?"

"I can't exactly tell you that, it's different with everyone," El said, letting her hand flutter through the air. She was wearing simple rings on each finger, and they glinted when they caught the sunlight from the doorway. "But you've been here for two of our days."

Our days? That was a weird way of putting it. Her frustration and annoyance must have been clear on her face because El sighed.

"I really am sorry, this is all going to be very confusing at first, but you'll get used to it," El said. "Are you thirsty?"

Now that she mentioned it, her throat was pretty damn dry. That might've been why it sounded like she had swallowed sandpaper. Clarice finally nodded.

El smiled and stood up before holding both hands out to Clarice. "Come on, I'll help you. You'll probably be weak for a while, you lost a lot of blood."

Clarice hesitated before putting her hands in El's. "About that…how am I not dead?"

"You know how you mentioned slowing down earlier? We might want to do that, it'll be easier for you. It's a good idea, going slow," El said gently. "Let's focus on the water first, then we can move through the rest of it. Slowly."

Clarice wanted to snap at the woman and demand some answers, but she had a feeling she wouldn't get anything from her at the moment. She let El pull her to her feet and then hated how she had to lean into the older woman. Shuffling forward at a pace that Clarice set, they made their way to the front door and out onto a small porch. When they reached the steps, Clarice had to reach out and grab a gnarled wooden beam for extra support as the sight stole her breath.

Overhead, the sky swirled with a thousand colors that raced back and forth, sparking and crashing like waves and exploding silently across an impossible galaxy of energy. She could feel it pressing against her skin now, as powerful as the light she had thought was from the sun. When she pulled her attention from the sky, she saw mountains in the distance, tall and deep blue and capped with snow. A lake stretched out beside the cabin they had stepped out of, rolling back toward the mountains. More energy leapt from the lake, arching overhead and disappearing like a rainbow. On the opposite side, a forest rose, but by the way it glinted in the light from overhead, it looked like some of the trees were made of glass or crystal.

"I think I need to sit down," Clarice said, and El helped her sit on the steps as tears stung her eyes. "Where…"

"It's okay, you're okay," El said, her voice gentle and devoid of any sarcasm now. "It's a lot to take in at first, isn't it?"

Clarice pulled her hand away from El and leaned into the beam, her gaze unfocusing. This couldn't be real. This was impossible. "Do you make illusions? That's—or a telepath?" She shot a glare at El. "Esme?"

Confusion darted across El's face, and she shook her head. "No, no, this is very real. This is a place you know, but you've never actually been here before. You just borrow space from here sometimes. It'll feel more familiar soon."

Clarice reached up and covered her face, more confused than she had been before. "Please stop talking if you're not going to make any sense."

"You can teleport, right? Or teleport things? Or make portals? Rip through time and space in some way or other?"

That caught her attention, and she lifted her head. El was staring at her with wide blue eyes. "We all can. This is where you don't go to, but you go through. This is the crossing place."

Clarice was quiet for a moment. "Are you…are you saying I'm inside of one of my portals?"

"It's snowing really hard," Norah said, her voice higher than earlier. "Shouldn't we stop?"

"Well, this is a really big truck," Clarice said, "So I don't think we're in any danger."

"Is James okay?" Riley said, reaching forward to touch John's shoulder. "The Jeep isn't as big."

"We're going very slow," John replied. "Everyone is. He'll be all right."

Outside, every vehicle had slowed to a crawl as they kept going through the onslaught of snow that no one had been expecting. Hazard lights blinked in the grey haze. The light snowfall was closer to a blizzard now, and it pelted the truck's windows without letting up as they inched past a stopped tractor trailer.

Marcos and James were driving in front of him so he could help them if one of them slid off the road, but he didn't like the idea of it coming to that. Marcos was going about ten miles per hour, which would probably be all right as long as he didn't try to slow down. That would be when he would start fishtailing. But if they tried to stop now, he wasn't sure they would make it back to Westchester.

"Can we call Mama D again?" Norah asked, leaning up.

"Sit back," Clarice said, her tone holding a touch of tenseness. She apparently didn't like the weather either. "Just in case."

"You just said we're not in danger," Norah said.

"That doesn't mean you should go around testing your seatbelt," Clarice said. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and handed it back to Norah.

"You've got a lot of notifications," Norah said, "From Instagram."

"I'll look at them later," Clarice said, looking out the window.

John turned his full attention ahead as their lane of traffic kept slowly moving forward. It wasn't dark yet, but the overcast sky had made everything dimmer and it was hard to see through the snow. He had turned off the music so he could focus better.

"Hi, Mama D!" Norah said, breaking the brief silence, "We're still on the road…Mhmm…No, we're driving."

"Tell her we're going so slow a snail would be able to pass us with ease," Clarice said.

John half-smiled, his eyes on the taillights of the Jeep. James had skidded once earlier, but he seemed to be doing fine now. Still… "Maybe we should stop."

"Here?" Clarice asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn toward him. "We're not near anything."

"Not here, but maybe we could find somewhere to stay for the night," John said. He glanced up at the mirror, fully aware that both James and Riley were his responsibility right now. And Norah was there, and the other teenagers in the Jeep, and then there was Marcos and Lorna and Clarice. He didn't want to imagine anything happening to any of them. "It might be safer."

"Mama D says that Dan Keller on the news said it wasn't going to get any better," Norah said, "She said we should find somewhere to stop."

"I could look up some hotels," Clarice said after chewing on her bottom lip for a minute.

"Here's Mama D, she wants to talk to you." The phone was passed back up to Clarice.

"I can tell the Jeep!" Riley said. She had the radio in her hands, and John saw her wave it at the mirror before it crackled to life. "We're stopping! Over."

"Riley?" It was Alison's voice. "What was that?"

"We're going to stop, over," Riley said into the radio again. "Clarice is going to find us a place, over."

A soft laugh escaped from John. "You don't have to say over until you're actually done saying what you need to say, Riley." Hadn't some discussion like this happened on the way to the Christmas tree farm?

"I know…"

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," Alison's voice popped over the radio, "I think we could use a break. Over?"

"Can you ask her if everything's okay?" John said, narrowing his eyes at the back of the Jeep.

"Are you okay?" Riley asked, "Over."

"Yeah, there's just a lot of snow and it's hard for us to see," Alison said, "But James wants John to know that he's fine, but the rest of us want to stop. Because apparently we're cowardly wusses who can't deal with bad weather? Really James—"

Mmm, which probably meant that James was angrily stressing out and driving the rest of them crazy. And he was going to regret saying that to Alison.

In the passenger seat, Clarice was on her phone, the glow dancing around her fingers. "There's a hotel about twenty minutes up the road," she said, "So I think it'll take us about forty-five minutes to get there."

"Do they have a pool?" Riley asked, "And dinner?"

"Why would we need a pool?" Norah asked.

"So we can swim," Riley said, "And we really need dinner. Everything needs to eat."

"Are we really stopping?" It was Lorna this time, her voice emanating from the radio. "Because the car wasn't made for this. Over."

"Tell her yes, we think we have a place now," John told Riley.

"Let her know it's a Holiday Inn, and I'll book some rooms for everyone," Clarice said.

"Don't use your own card for that, Clarice," John said.

"I'm just going to book the rooms, we can figure out the bill later."

Suddenly the radio was right beside John's head. "You tell them. I don't know what you want me to say."

John took the radio from her and pressed the talk button. "Lorna, Alison, we're going to keep going until we reach the Holiday Inn. It'll be about forty five minutes at this speed, and we're going to call to get rooms for everyone. Do you copy? Over."

"So official," Lorna teased, "But we copy. Over."

"Copy, over," Ali said a second later, her answer sharp-edged.

"Sounds like the Jeep is having a good time," Clarice said with a low whistle. "Bet James is wishing he could take back that name-calling right about now."

John nodded. James was going to have to apologize for that eventually, though knowing him, it wouldn't be immediate. It would take him a little while to realize exactly what he had done wrong and then see that the fault was his.

"Is Ali mad?" Riley asked.

"Sounds like it," Norah said.

"All right, I'm calling the hotel," Clarice said, raising the phone to her ear. "I'll ask if they have dinner."

"Ooo, yay!" Riley said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome—yes, hi!" Clarice started talking to the receptionist on the other end of the line while the girls went quiet in the back. John's mind spun as she managed to three rooms. Sounded like they were going to have to squish all of them into those three rooms.

"We have two rooms with queens, and one with a king," Clarice said, putting the phone down in her lap. "I guess Lorna and Marcos will take the one with the king, and the rest of us can split up guys and girls."

"Are we having a sleepover?" Riley asked.

"Looks like it," John said. He would have to call Aunt Evelyn once they got to the hotel to let her know they were all okay. She was probably worried by now, but he didn't want to call and drive at the same time and letting Riley tell her what was happening seemed like a bad idea.

He flicked his gaze over toward Clarice. She was sitting forward in her seat, one hand on the dash, dark green eyes narrowed. She turned her head and met his gaze, offering a small smile.

"You got this, Superman?"

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ali said, “The last time you said something had limitless potential, three windows got broken at school and the fire department showed up.”

“It was fun, you gotta admit,” James said.

Bobby nodded. “Definitely worth a couple days of suspension.”

“And that’s exactly why John’s the only one who gets to use the axe,” Marcos announced, his tone firm and final.

“If John’s the only one who gets to hold the axe, I think he should have to do something extra,” Clarice said. She and Norah were walking toward the front of the group, looking for the perfect Christmas tree for their foster parents’ house. Part of John wished Clarice would hang back toward him so they could talk more. They still had a lot of catching up to do.

“Ah,” John said, “And what would that be, exactly?”

“I don’t know yet,” Clarice said before turning around to address the others. “Any suggestions?”

“I don’t think this should be up for a group discussion,” John said, or at least tried to. It was hard to be heard over the ideas that seemed to explode from everyone.

“He should sing a song every time he swings it, maybe?” Norah said tentatively.

“He has to be shirtless!”

“He has to cut down the tree blindfolded.”

“He has to cut the tree down in five strokes or someone else takes over. I nominate me.”

“No, no, I think I’ve got this,” Lorna said, holding up her hands. “Before he cuts down the tree, he has to go, ‘Heeere’s Johnny!’”

“And make a psychotic face,” Marcos added.

“I don’t get it,” Riley said as half of the group started laughing.

“You’re too young for that movie,” John said. He rolled his eyes. He didn’t even like The Shining all that much. Horror movies weren’t his favorites (he preferred action movies and sci-fi), but they had watched a bunch of them back in high school. Clarice always had been a movie connoisseur, and she had liked holding impromptu movie nights at her house where everyone stayed up until four in the morning and slept over until the afternoon. “Here’s an idea. I should get to hold the axe based on the fact I signed for it, and I’m the one who will get in trouble if anything goes wrong.”

“Scared of a lawsuit?” Clarice teased.

“More like scared James will chop his own leg off,” Marcos said.

Lorna snorted. “Or someone else’s leg.”

“Why does everyone think I can’t work an axe?” James demanded, “It’s not like it’s hard.”

“All right, all right,” John said, shaking his head, “Let’s all just focus on finding these Christmas trees.”

“Yes, sir!” Bobby said, snapping a salute at John. He grabbed Romeo and James by the arms and yanked them toward the left. “To the trees!”

Alison followed after them, and John wondered if they would all get lost out there or cause him to lose the damage deposit he had put down when he signed for the axe. There wasn’t that much for them to destroy on the Christmas tree farm…right? Who was he kidding, they would find something. James had a skill for that sort of thing, and Bobby had always been good at dragging his brother into chaotic situations where things got shattered. At least a couple of James’ previous bone breaks were the result of Bobby Drake’s schemes.

The remaining group wandered through the trees, looking for some choices that weren’t enormous. Still, the allure of looking at the biggest trees became too much, and they found themselves in the rows of trees that furnished houses that had fifty foot high vaulted ceilings.

“There’s no way this one fits in a house,” Lorna said, craning her head back to look up at a twenty-footer.

“You could cut a branch off this thing and it could be a whole tree,” Clarice said.

The top of the tree seemed to brush the snow-laden sky. It was hard to imagine it in an actual house. Riley and Norah were playing in the massive fluffy branches, disappearing halfway into the needles before coming back out again.

“Can we get this one?” Riley said, partially buried in the tree. “It’s so big!”

“How about we get one that isn’t almost as big as the house,” John said, “I think Aunt Evelyn might like that better.”

“Aww…fine…” Riley reluctantly stepped out of the tree and wandered over to Marcos, grabbing both of his hands. “Marcos, can you get this tree?”

Marcos snorted and scooped her up. “Sure. I’ll get this, and that pony you asked me for, and a diamond necklace, and those long-haired guinea pigs, and I’ll set aside a college fund for medical school.”

“Really?”

“No way,” Marcos said, laughing as she frowned at him. “But I think we can let you help pick out our much smaller tree, okay?”

“Did you already put out your memnorah?” Riley asked.

“Hanukkah’s already over,” Lorna said with a small smile, “And it’s a menorah.”

“Oh, right,” Riley said. “I forgot.” She looped her arms around Marcos’ neck. “How big is your tree going to be?”

“Only about five feet,” Marcos said, “So we’ll get ours from up at the front.”

“Charlie Brown tree, huh?” Clarice said.

“A little bigger than that, but not too much,” Marcos said, “We’re saving all our money so we only go broke for a few years once the baby’s here.”

John followed along behind the others as the discussion turned to the baby and renovations at Lorna and Marcos’ house. Lorna dropped back and walked alongside him.

“I want to name the baby Kickass Danger Dane-Diaz, but Marcos keeps saying no,” Lorna said, smirking.

“You’re giving birth, so I feel like you get final say,” John replied.

“That’s what I said. We could call her Kadie.”

John laughed. “So it really is a girl.”

“Did you think I was lying?” she said, lifting an eyebrow at him. During the last video chat he had had with Marcos and Lorna, they had told him the baby was a girl. But then Lorna had said she was having an alien parasite and the conversation had devolved from there into an argument about the Alien movies and which one was the worst. Everyone had very different opinions.

“What do you really want to name her?” John asked.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, “We’ve thrown around some names. Like John Jr.”

“That’s a really solid name, it gets my vote,” John said.