Chapter Ten

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"Y-you," I stuttered.

"How are you doing, Nigel?" Shade questioned as he walked towards me.

How am I doing?

I could not move. I could not speak. It was as if some force had pinned me on the bed and shushed me.

I glared at Shade. His hands were not in his pockets but instead, were clenched into tight fists. His dark hair was now only covering his left eye. The rest of his face was shown.

Even his creepy smile.

"You look alright," he stated, grinning.

"Yep," Damian answered for me. "He should be leaving the hospital shortly."

"Who are you?" my dad asked the dark-haired boy. "I have never seen you before."

"My name is Shade Shawn. I just moved to Forlot."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Nigel's dad, Richard Sanders."

Dad, stop talking to the enemy!

I really wanted to tell him about the nightmare that I dreamt with Shade, but I still could not find the urge to speak.

Dad examined the boy. "You must like black," he said. "You are wearing black all over."

"Yes, sir, I do," Shade admitted. "I have plenty of black clothing at home, and my folks let me dye my hair black."

Does he not wear any other colors? Of course not, because he is a shadow! And he loves the dark!

"Shade is a hero, Mr. Sanders," my best friend said.

My dad was surprised at that. "He is? Did he help you, Mr. Robinson, and the other child get everybody out of the burning bus?"

"Actually...now that I think about it, the other kid whom I mentioned was Shade."

I was in shock.

Say what?

"I would like to tell the story, Damian, if you do not mind," Shade interrupted.

"Yeah. It would be best if you explain. After all, you experienced it firsthand."

Shade scooted a chair from a corner of the room and brought it close to me. He sat down and put his hands on his knees.

"So there I was," he began. "I was in the back when the bus landed on its side. I heard screams and cries as people were either holding onto their seats or being hurled out of them. I noticed a raging fire from outside. The bus was on fire."

He paused, and then continued.

"Everyone but Mr. Robinson, Damian, and I were hurt in some way. Mr. Robinson and Damian started helping our friends, so I decided to pitch in. At first, everything was going smoothly. People were conscious and quickly got away from the bus as fast as they could." He glanced at me. "But not everyone was conscious, which made the job harder and scarier."

"W-who was unconscious?" I wondered, finally finding my voice.

Shade rubbed both of his arms. "That would have been you."

I was surprised. "Me?"

"And you were not the only one."

"Who else was there?"

"Maxine."

I gasped.

Oh, no. Poor Maxine.

"Apparently, you and Maxine were too close to the window. That is why you two were knocked out just like that." He snapped his fingers. "Because the bus landed on its right side, the ones who were sitting on the left and toppled over did not have as serious injuries as the ones who were sitting on the right, especially the people who were next to the window."

"That makes sense," Damian jumped in. "That would be why you made it out of the wreck without a scratch. You were sitting on the left side."

"Who says that I made it out without any scratches?" Shade rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, and we gasped when we saw the burn marks on his skin.

"Shade, your arms..." Dad said in disbelief.

"They only hurt if you touch them. The doctor told me to keep ice packs on the marks, and my arms will be fine."

"But...how...?" I said softly. "You are wearing a jacket!"

"I do not like fire. Simple as that." He rolled his sleeves back down and looked at the clock. "I had better go. My folks are picking me up in a few minutes." He patted my leg. "I will visit your house sometime, Nigel, and finish the story." He gave me a wink, which made me shiver a bit. "I will call you." He got up and waved to us as he walked out of the room.

"He is nice," Dad stated.

"I know, right?" Damian agreed.

No, he is not! He is a shadow! And he was going to kill me!

I had to tell them about the dream.

"Dad..." I started.

My dad ruffled my hair. "I will be right back. I am going to get a snack from the vending machine."

"Me too!" Damian exclaimed happily.

"Would you like anything, Son?"

I felt my stomach grumble. It was hungry, but it was not hungry for snacks. It was hungry for Mom's tuna noodle casserole. Her specialty.

I rubbed my stomach. Not today, tummy.

Not anytime soon.

"No thanks," I responded. "If it is not Mom's cooking, then there is no such thing as food."

"I will find you a tasty snack," my best friend insisted.

"Damian, I—" He hurried off before I could finish my statement.

My dad hugged me. "I know that you miss her, and so do I. But we will see her again. One day." He kissed my cheek. "For now, you need to rest. Damian and I shall return." With that, he walked out.

I mumbled under my breath. How could I rest when there was a shadow that was out to get me?

As I laid in bed, collecting my thoughts, a loud beep rang in my ears.

Beep!

It sounded like the beep that you hear when someone is...

...dead.

Tears formed in my eyes as I overheard a doctor who was in the hallway say, "Maxine Rogers. Dead at eleven o'clock."

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