NATE’S WORDS do not compute. “You must be confusing me with someone else.” I try to laugh, but it comes out choked.
“See for yourself.” Nate darts forward and lines up his palm against mine.
I’m immediately sucked into his memory. He’s walking down a hall that smells strongly of antiseptic and rotting flowers, and it takes me a second to adjust. Because exactly like all those times I rented memories off the net in Level Two, I’m inside this stranger’s head. I’m seeing what he sees, thinking what he thinks, feeling what he feels.
Nate double-checks Neil’s room number. He’s been spaced out the past day—his jetlag is killer. Hence the “531” scrawled on his skin with a black Sharpie lifted from the nurse’s station.
An orderly whizzes by, pushing an empty bed with rumpled sheets. Nate scans the room numbers until he’s outside 531. He puffs out his chest and hopes for the best.
He makes his grand entrance back into Neil’s life after nearly four years away. Neil is sitting up in his bed. He wears a normal T-shirt and a pair of shorts over a long cast on his left leg. The cast extends all the way from his midthigh to his foot, and it hangs on a pulley.
There’s a girl next to him, holding his hand. Short, spiky brown hair. Long legs. Neil’s so into this girl, it takes him a minute to notice that Nate is even in the room. Finally Neil squints up at Nate, and then his eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything.
Best to plunge right in. “Hey, Little Brother,” Nate says. “Stoked you pulled through. Dad called and told me about the crash. Said some bastard stole a police car for a joyride.”
“I wondered how long it would take for you to show your face around here again.” Neil leans forward with a wince, and the girl tucks another pillow behind his back. “Have you been to see Dad yet?”
Nate ignores his question. Instead he swaggers over to the girl and extends his hand. “Name’s Nate. Neil’s brother. The pleasure is all yours.”
She looks up at Nate with her huge brown eyes and shaky smile. She takes Nate’s hand politely. “I’m Felicia. Neil’s girlfriend.” There’s an angry red scar on her temple. And fading bruises that clash with her porcelain skin. She’s banged up. Picture-perfect damsel in distress. And she looks like Gracie, which could explain why Neil’s in love with her.
“You never told me you had a brother,” Felicia says.
“Half brother,” Neil clarifies.
There are no free chairs in the small room. The windowsill is covered with get-well cards. Nate sits on the end of Neil’s bed. Then he pulls the Sharpie out of his pocket and uncaps it.
“Better sign this before space runs out. How’d you get to be so popular? Dealing drugs?” Nate asks. Doodles and signatures compete for top billing on Neil’s cast. The only splashes of white are in awkward places, like under his thigh and the back of his ankle.
Neil flinches. “Don’t bother.”
Nate shrugs and poises the pen above Neil’s ankle. “I’m crashing at Vic’s. Good to see the old gang again.” He flashes his sincerest grin, the one he usually reserves for angry parents and highway patrolmen. “Ever hear anything from Gracie?”
Neil’s eyes bug out, as expected. Felicia searches his face, and Nate can tell that there will be questions later. He regrets he won’t be around to see how the Boy Scout lies himself out of this one.
But Neil tries for casual. “No. Why would I? How’s Vic? I haven’t seen him at church in years.”
Nate is impressed with Neil’s deflection. “Vic converted to atheism. He spends his Sunday mornings worshipping his pillow.”
Felicia laughs. She’s giving Nate her full attention now, so she doesn’t pick up on Neil’s look of annoyance. “How long will you stay in town, then, Nate?” she asks.
“I want to be here for Neil. Dad says he has a lot of physical therapy ahead, and I’m happy to help any way I can.” Nate is really laying it on thick now, but Felicia’s buying it, even if Neil isn’t.
“Oh, that’s so sweet!” She leans forward in her chair. “Are you in medical school or something?”
“I’m a fitness trainer.” Nate loves the way her eyes scan his body. The moment she sees the truth in his statement is worth all his hours in the gym.
“We could certainly use the help. I’m seriously out of shape.”
She doesn’t look it. Probably just sore from her injuries. “Give yourself a break. No one expects you to run a marathon so soon after a car wreck. How bad was it?” he asks gently.
“Three cracked ribs. Collapsed lung. Concussion. Bruises. They had to chop my hair off to pull me out of the wreckage.” Felicia tugs at the ends of her hair and then reaches for Neil’s hand and squeezes. “But they say I made a remarkably quick recovery and I got off easy compared to Neil. He had a torn spleen and whiplash as well as a fractured femur and tibia.”
Neil pipes up. “If I’m lucky and all the bones set correctly, the doctors won’t have to hammer me full of metal plates.”
Nate makes sure his voice oozes sympathy. “It’s great that you two have each other. And I’m sure Felicia will do all she can to help you get better.” He waits until Neil catches Felicia’s eye and then jots his initials on Neil’s cast. NIC. Neil jerks his leg as far as the pulley allows.
A nurse comes in with a food tray. Time to jet. Nate takes out his wallet, extracts a dollar bill, and writes his number on it with the Sharpie. “If you need anything, here’s my cell,” Nate tells Neil. He places the bill on top of the tray. “Looking forward to getting to know you better, Felicia.”
This time her smile is solid. Neil even cheers up, probably only because Nate’s leaving.
When I come back to myself, I feel woozy. “I—I think I need to sit down.” My legs give out, and I sink to the ground.
Neil jumps to my side, frantic. “Why? What did he show you?”
I can’t do anything but stare at my sandals. Grammy said they were impractical, but I liked the way they showed off my pedicure. I always wondered if Grammy broke down when I died. I never saw her cry. I didn’t even really think she was capable of it. I couldn’t imagine it, in any case. And now there’s Nate’s memory. If it’s real, and Neil and I survived that car accident, then it puts everything into question.
But we’re dead now, or we wouldn’t be here. Megan’s hand is on my forehead, like she’s checking my temperature. She’s asking me if I’m okay. I want to scream, I’m not okay, Megan! I don’t remember that hospital room. I don’t remember anything after the crash.
I swipe at Megan’s hand. Shoo her away like a fly. I need to concentrate on remembering. The girl Nate saw in this memory could be me, other than the short hair, except that she acted like some fragile waif waiting to be saved by a prince. That must be how Nate sees me. I’ve never been able to see myself through Neil’s eyes. When I relive joint memories with Neil, my own point of view takes over. It’s too strong because I remember the scene too. But I don’t remember this, so that must be why I relived the memory from Nate’s point of view even though I was present.
Nate kept going on about a mystery girl. Gracie. I have to ask Neil about her. I look up at him, and see him pushing Nate again. “What did you show her? Tell me now!” he demands.
Nate chuckles. He seems to be heartily enjoying himself. “See for yourself, Little Brother.” He offers his palm to Neil, and in the few seconds it takes for the transfer, Neil spasms and shakes.
“What kind of trick is this?” Neil sits down next to me, and I lean my head on his shoulder. “We didn’t die?” he asks. He sounds as stunned as I feel.
Finally I come out of my daze. “If we didn’t die in the crash, when did we die?” I ask Nate.
Nate shrugs. “How should I know? We lost touch. I had my own problems.”
“But you have more memories of us? After the crash?”
“The memory I shared is one of many,” Nate confirms.
“But why don’t I have them?” I ask in a small voice. What happened to mine? And more important, how can I get them back? If Nate’s memory is real, then my death was a lie, and I don’t know what to believe anymore.
“Show us the rest, then.” Neil tries to grab Nate’s arm, but Nate slaps him away.
“Level Three is all about detachment.” Nate’s tone is preachy, like he has finally decided to act like a mentor or something. “What happened on Earth doesn’t concern you anymore. I was wrong to show you what I did.”
Neil scrambles up, using my shoulder as ballast. “You’re only saying that to rile me up.” He glares at Nate as though he’s three seconds away from punching him. We’re attracting curious stares from our fellow students. I want to see the memories too, but it’s pretty clear Nate won’t show us any others.
I stand up and step between Neil and Nate, and kiss Neil on the cheek and take his hand. Then I whisper into his ear. “We need to talk. Alone.” To Megan I say more loudly, “Thanks for the tour.”
“Oh, it’s not over yet.” Megan takes hold of both Neil’s and my free wrists so that we form a tight circle. “I have so much more to show you.”
“Can we pick it up later?” I ask. “Neil and I are going to go back to our rooms now to rest.”
She gives us her glinting, gap-toothed smile. “Sure thing!”
“Separate rooms? Really?” Nate breaks in, waggling his eyebrows.
Neil merely scowls at him, and Nate grins widely and winks. “Ah! I get it. Want to keep your options open, eh? Can’t blame you. The afterlife has a lot to offer.” A couple of girls walk by as if on cue, and Nate salutes them.
Neil trembles beside me. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “You don’t know anything about us.”
“If Felicia gets lonely, she can room with me.” A mischievous smile lights up Nate’s face. Now that I’ve been inside his head, I know he probably can’t help himself.
Neil tenses up again. His brother loves to push his buttons. I squeeze Neil’s hand. Long, long, long. Short, short, long. It’s the only Morse code I learned from Neil. It’s the letters O and U, short for “open up.” And, curiously, it was also the password for opening all the doors in Level Two. We used it as a signal after the fall of the Morati for when we wanted to make a swift exit from a conversation and for when we wanted to be alone. Not that there was any privacy after all the hives disappeared. Endless fields of wildflowers are pretty, but not practical for long-term habitation.
Neil understands my meaning immediately and squeezes back. The strength of our connection makes me giddy, and I throw my arms around his neck. “Neil’s the only roommate I’ll ever want.”
Level Three may not be the safe haven we expected, but at least I’m here with Neil. We smile at each other, and he angles his face closer to mine.
The ground rumbles beneath us. A flash of light sears my eyes, and an impossibly loud boom explodes my eardrums.
The force of the explosion rips me away from Neil and throws me facedown into the grass, splaying my arms and legs. My head feels water-clogged, as though if only I could surface from this pool of confusion, I might be able to make out what the muffled voices around me are shouting.
Where am I? Where is Neil?
With effort I twist my neck to look for him. Looming large in my field of vision is a severed leg, the orange kneesock soaked in blood. Megan. As I dry heave, the leg fades away. Megan is gone.
This is not really happening. It can’t be.
Through the blur of my tears, I can just barely make out Neil. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open. A giant beach-ball-size rock crushes his leg. Then I scream.