Ghost Town

“It’s not that bad,” Claire said in a rush. “Really. I was just trying to help some people who were in trouble, including Eve. It just turned out . . . well, it turned out okay, in the end.”

Worst. Speech. Ever. And it didn’t seem to reassure her mother at all.

“Mrs. Danvers,” Shane said, and held out his cup for a refill on his coffee, with a smile that, Claire thought, he’d probably learned from Michael; even her mother seemed to warm up to it. “The point is, Claire did something really brave, and probably really important, so you should be proud of her.”

“I’m always proud of Claire.” And that, Claire thought, was true; her mother was always proud of her. Except maybe when it came to Shane, of course. “But it sounds very dangerous.”

“Shane was with me,” Claire said, before he could open his mouth again. “We look out for each other.”

“I’m sure you do. Oh, let me go see what’s keeping your father. I can’t believe he hasn’t been down for coffee yet; that’s a violation of the laws of physics. I know he’s awake.”

Her mother set the pot back on the coffee machine and left the kitchen, heading for the stairs. Shane leaned over to Claire and said, “Does it give you déjà voodoo how alike the houses are?”

“That’s déjà vu, and I hate you right now.”

“For narcing on you to your mom? Wait until you hear what I tell your dad.” From the sly grin on his face, she knew what he was thinking.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

“I could tell him about that time we—”

“Hell, no.”

They were whispering, and on the verge of giggles, when a scream cut through the house like the sound of shattering glass. Claire dropped her cup and jumped to her feet, running for the stairs; Shane was just a couple of steps behind her, and caught up quickly on the stairs as he jumped them three at a time.

Claire’s mom was nowhere in sight, but the door to her dad’s office—which was Shane’s bedroom in the Glass House—was open. Claire dashed for it and skidded to a halt in the opening.

Her mother was on her knees.

Her dad was lying on the carpet, looking small and weak and fragile, and she felt absolute terror shoot through her like lightning. Her knees went weak, and she felt Shane’s hands close around her shoulders.

“Mom?” she asked in a small, shaking voice. Then she swallowed, got it together, and hurried the last few steps to drop down next to her parents.

Her mom had her hand pressed to her dad’s neck, feeling for a pulse, but as badly as her hand was shaking, Claire was sure she couldn’t tell even if she found one. She looked up miserably at Shane, who nodded and got on one knee next to her mom. “Let me,” he said, and gently moved her mother’s hand to feel for a pulse with his own, steadier fingers. It seemed to take forever, but he finally nodded. “He’s okay. He’s breathing, too. I think he just passed out.”

Claire’s mother was crying, but Claire thought she probably didn’t even know she was doing it. She had a frozen, blank expression that Claire thought was scarier than the scream had been. “Th-thank you, Shane. I don’t think we should move him.”

“We should turn him on his side,” Shane said. “Recovery position.”

Claire’s mother looked at him oddly, as if she wondered how exactly he knew all of this. Claire knew, all too well. He’d come home to find his parents passed out a lot, during that nightmare time when they’d been on the road, running from Morganville and memories. Checking for pulse and breathing and making sure they didn’t choke on vomit was just a normal thing to do, for him.

Shane rolled her father onto his side and settled him as comfortably as possible, then sat back and said, “Better call an ambulance. You’ll probably want him to go to the hospital, right? Mrs. Danvers?”

She blinked and slowly nodded, then got up and used the desk phone to call 911. While she did, Claire stared down at her dad’s still, pale face. He looked awful. Now that the adrenaline shock was fading, tears were threatening to drown her, and she didn’t want to cry, couldn’t cry, not now. Her mom needed her to be strong.

Her dad opened his eyes. His pupils looked huge, but then they shrank back to normal size. Having his eyes open didn’t actually make her feel that much better, because he looked at them like they were strangers.

Even Claire.

When he tried to sit up, Shane put a big hand on his shoulder and said, “Sir, you’d better stay down until the ambulance gets here, okay? Just rest. Do you remember what happened?”

Her dad blinked, very slowly, and focused on Shane’s face. “Do I know you?” he asked. He sounded . . . confused. Claire’s throat went tight and hot, and she choked back tears again.

“Yes, sir, I’m Shane, Claire’s boyfriend. We had a talk last week about your daughter.”

Claire looked at Shane then, because that was the first she’d heard of any talk. Not that it was a bad thing, but she couldn’t believe he’d gone off and talked to her dad without her. What a . . . medieval thing to do.

“Oh,” Dad said, and turned his head to look at Claire. “You’re too young to be dating, Claire. You should at least wait a couple of years.”

That was . . . random. And odd. She blinked and said, “Okay, Dad, don’t—We’ll talk about it later, all right?”

The response time of ambulances in Morganville was fast—after all, it wasn’t that big a town—so Claire wasn’t surprised to hear sirens already in the distance. “You’re going to be okay, Daddy,” she said, and took his hand in hers. “You’re going to be fine.”

He tried to smile. “I have to be, don’t I? I have to see you go to college.”

“But—” But I’m in college. No, she must have misunderstood him. He probably meant he wanted to see her graduate from college.

Because otherwise, what sense did that make? Anyway, it was probably normal for him to be a little confused. He’d passed out, and it was almost certainly his heart; she knew the doctors had been treating him for a while. Maybe this time they could fix it.

“I love you, baby,” he said. “I love you and your mom very much; you know that, right?”

He put his hand on her cheek, and finally the tears just spilled over in a hot mess down her face. She put her fingers around his. “I know,” she whispered. “Don’t leave, Daddy.”

The ambulance sirens were loud now, right in front of the house, and Claire’s mom dropped down next to Shane again, touched his shoulder, and said, “Would you go let them in, honey?”

He was gone in seconds, pounding down the stairs, racing to the front door. It didn’t seem long at all before Claire heard the rattle of metal and heavy footsteps, and then the room was crowded with two big paramedics, one male, one female, who moved her and her mom out of the way so they could lay out all their kits. Claire backed up to the wall and, now that she had nothing to do, started to shake like she might come apart. Her mom put her arm around her, and they waited. Shane stayed out in the hall, looking in. When Claire wiped her eyes and glanced his direction, he mouthed, Hang in there. She smiled weakly.

The paramedics talked to her dad, then talked to each other, and finally the woman got up and came over to Claire and her mom. “Okay, it looks like he’s stable right now, but we need to get him into the hospital. I’ll need somebody to come along to fill out the paperwork.”

“I’ll . . . I’ll get my purse,” Claire’s mom murmured. The male paramedic had her dad sitting up now, and was taking his blood pressure. Shane moved out of the way as Mom headed out to get her things, and then came in to stand with Claire. He took her hand and held it tight.

“See, he’s okay,” Shane said. “Maybe he just passed out. Lucky he didn’t hit his head.”

“Lucky,” Claire whispered. She didn’t feel lucky. Not at all. Right now, she felt . . . cursed.

As they helped her dad to the waiting gurney, he looked over, and she was relieved when he said, “Shane. Thanks for being here with my girls.”

“No problem,” Shane said. “Feel better, sir.”

“Keep your hands off my daughter.”

The paramedics grinned, and the woman said, “I think he’s feeling better. You can meet us at the hospital if you’d like. Your mother may need you.”

“I’ll go,” Claire said. “Shane—”

“I’m not leaving you. You’re going to need someone to fetch hamburgers, right? I’m your man.”