Revived (Cat Patrick)

He walked in front of my headlights, and then crouched down next to my window. It was open because all the glass was broken.”
    “And he pulled you out?”
    “Yes,” Nora says. “But not right away. At first he checked on me. Then he called someone.”
    “Nine-one-one?”
    “I guess, but it sounded more like a normal conversation. Maybe he was asking a friend what to do. I’m sure he didn’t know whether he should move me or not.”
    “I’m sure,” I echo, wanting to shake her for being so clueless. “What did he look like?” I ask, channeling Mason and Cassie.
    “Uh…” Nora says, warily. “Just normal,” she says, and I don’t press it. In fact, I don’t say anything at all. “Anyway, then he came back over and said, ‘Help is coming,’ and I passed out a couple seconds after that.”
    It hits me again that Nora doesn’t know she died.
    “Wow,” I say, because it seems safe.
    Nora’s quiet, except I can hear her inhale and exhale like she’s breathing through the trauma. Finally, she laughs a little.
    “What’s funny?” I ask.
    “It’s just weird what you remember.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like the guy,” Nora says. “It’s mean, because he saved me and all, but he reminded me a little of Daffy Duck.”
    “Huh?” I ask. “He looked like a duck?”
    “No,” Nora clarifies. “He reminded me of him. It was his voice. He had a lisp. It wasn’t as pronounced as Daffy’s, but…”
    Nora keeps talking about cartoon characters, but I don’t hear her. I’m lost in thought, time-traveling back to when we first came to Omaha and I visited the aquarium. I remember the unsettling stranger who talked to me and then disappeared.
    The otherwise nondescript stranger with a lisp.
    Even though lisps are incredibly common, I feel it in my bones that this is more than a coincidence. But why would the same agent who was there to Revive Nora—who possibly caused her death—be at the aquarium? And why would an agent be so covert while speaking with me? We’re one big network, all working together. Everyone knows one another. Everyone except…
    The hairs on my arms stand up; a shiver dances down my spine.
    “Are you there, Daisy?” Nora asks.
    “Sorry,” I say. “I’ve got to go.”
    I end the call before she says goodbye, and then I sit in shock.
    Finally, because I’ve got to tell someone, I dial Megan. The second she picks up, before she has the chance to say anything, I spill.
    “Megs,” I say, fear in my voice, “I’m pretty sure I saw God.”
    The floorboards creak outside my door and I stop talking for a minute to listen. When no one comes in, I continue in a whisper.
    “Even though Nora hasn’t confirmed that someone had her killed, I know it’s true,” I say. “And that is just… off-the-rails crazy. And then they hid her, but didn’t tell her about the program, and now they’re Reviving new Converts? It’s all too much. If this is how things are going, I’m even more worried about Matt. I’m going to pull together notes on everything I know and share them with Mason tomorrow,” I say. “He’ll know what to do.”
    “I think it’s the right move,” Megan says. “You’re taking control.”
    “Love you, Megs,” I say.
    “Love you more.”
    When I finally go to bed, I imagine Matt’s car being driven off the road and have to shake my head to fight off the thought. I toss and turn for hours, thinking of one gruesome scenario after another. I lie on my left side and the thoughts are there. I switch to my right—no escape.
    Finally, I force myself to remember that Matt isn’t Nora: He won’t tell.
    Then again, I think as I flip to my stomach, it seems that God paid me a visit, so maybe he’s watching me. And if he’s watching, then maybe he already knows, anyway.

thirty-six
    In the morning, anxiety slams into me. Then I think of Audrey singing to Matt and me at the breakfast table and I smile. I climb out of bed, shower, and go to find Mason before school.
    Unfortunately, he and Cassie are on their way out.
    “We need supplies,” he says. “We’re headed to the store. Want to come?”
    “Not really,” I admit.
    “I’ll let you drive,” he offers.
    “Sold.”
    Cassie sits in the back and I buckle into the driver’s seat. I’ve only had two lessons, but I have my learner’s permit now, so I sort of know what I’m doing. Even so, easing the tank out of the driveway is no easy task: I run over a patch of yard in the process.
    I do