“We’re almost there.” 

The roads twisted and expanded underneath the jeeps headlights. The barren woods around us was only visible after a crack of thunder followed by a bright flash of lighting. I had convinced him to leave the radio off, making the rubbing of tires on the road and our breathing the loudest sound in range. 

“There’s not a person or a house in sight,” I said pulling the quilt he had draped across my shoulders closer to me. “Where are we going?” 

It had to be the twentieth time I asked this. 

“I’m sorry it’s such a remote place. It works in our favor though. It’ll be awhile before the police find us.” Zac’s arm wasn’t hanging out the side of the jeep for once which was kind of unsettling. Things were so different now. Months ago I was daydreaming of sitting in the passenger seat driving to some fun destination with him. I wonder what past me would have said if she knew we’d be running away from the cops together. 

I guess it was romantic in a sense . . . a really messed up sense. 

“Zac?” 

He glanced over at me. “Yes? Are you alright?” 

“Why are you helping me run from the police? Aren’t you scared you’ll get in trouble?” 

He shrugged. “Of course I am. It’s too late for worrying about getting into trouble though.” 

We turned at a nearby exit and onto a more narrow road. “We’re here.” 

I could barely catch the words in the quick moment the headlights raced over the sign.

Atlantica Apartments. 

The building had the appearance of a cheap motel. There were about twelve different apartments, six on each floor. The doors were painted blue while the walls around them an even darker color. The numbers of the apartment hung off the doors. Some had dents in them causing me to imagine someone attempting to break it down. 

Zac took the keys out of the ignition and hopped out of the jeep. 

Was this the right decision? 

He opened my door and helped me out. With a shy smile, he said, “I’m excited to finally show you this.” 

Not knowing what to say I nodded and followed him up the stairs and to apartment 11. He pulled out his keys and undid three different locks. Stepping aside, he let me in first. 

With a flick of a light switch, I was dumbfounded. 

The apartment was not so much of an apartment as it was a room with a kitchen and bathroom attached. With no hallways, I was immediately exposed to the chaotically cluttered bedroom. 

The papers hung up on the wall stood out the most. It was similar to the evidence board the girls and I set up in my room a few days prior except it took up the whole space. Post-its, posters, papers, even pamphlets - they took up nearly every inch of the wall. A computer with monitors was set up at a desk with papers, and pens sprawled across it. At the foot of the queen sized bed were several stacks of books, all bookmarked in various places.

On the kitchen counter was a large fish tank thoroughly decorated with mermaid sculptures and glittery rocks. Only one fish swam around, circling the front of the tank as if it were beckoning me closer. Below it was a paper with pictures of fish printed onto it. Each fish had a corresponding name.

I picked it up. 

Zebrafish - Victoria 

Southern Playfish - Helen

Green Swordtail - Norah

Siamese Fighting Fish - Hannah 

Freshwater Angelfish - Arielle 

All that was left in the tank was the Angelfish . . . Me. 

“They all kept dying on me,” Zac said, coming up from behind me. Then he spotted the list in my hands. 

“Oh, don’t mind that.” He took it, ripping it up and tossing it into an overflowing trash can. 

The fish was pressed up against the glass. It made me feel sick. I grabbed onto the counter to stabilize myself. 

What the heck?

“I’ll make you some tea to warm you up.” Zac rustled through the cabinets until he found a mug. I made my way to a wall of sketches and notes in a trance. 

There was a common theme; Mermaids. 

There were drawings of them. Some must have been printed out from online, others sketched. They had an angelic essence to them and reminded me of old art one would find in a museum. 

The creatures had tails of different colors, their scales slimy and glittering in the sunlight. Some perched on rocks or ships, others sprawled out like a sketch of a naked human in anatomy class. 

Someone had marked them up with notes. 

Mermaids are innocent and pure, untouched by human sin. 

Found all over the ocean. More sightings reported by sailors than people on land. Hysteria or are mermaids more likely found out at sea?

Ability to influence the thoughts of humans, most commonly men. 

I rubbed the papers material in my hand. These had been up for a while. 

Another side of the wall had much darker drawings. 

The mermaids were like what Eline sketched. Sirens. 

Their teeth were pointed, hands webbed, eyes dark pits, hair stringy and sometimes completely absent. The drawings had them bent over the corpses of dolphins, whales, and sharks, digging into their flesh with rageful hunger. 

Sirens are evil. They embody all of human sin and delight in death. 

Powerful creatures who are known to lure sailors to death.

Thunder boomed and lighting lit the whole room up. 

I squeezed my eyes shut. 

What is this place? 

“You’re freezing.” Zac handed me the tea and I took it, sitting myself at the chair in the far corner while he sat on the bed. 

“What is this? Why does this room look like this?” My voice was stronger than it had been all night. If only it bounced off the walls like this earlier. Then maybe my friends would have believed me when I said I wasn’t a murderer. 

He kicked off his shoes and brought his legs to his chest. “This isn’t my apartment. I’ve simply been tending to it and now living in it in the absence of its owner.” 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Who’s the owner?” 

“Technically speaking, Mister and Misses Barely.” 

“And actually speaking?” 

“Victoria.” 

I blinked. Who was it that mentioned Victoria went through a mermaid phase before she passed? Pete?

“Do they know about this?” 

He tilted his head. “They rented it out for a few months. They don’t know it’s still being paid for. When they abandoned this outside of town getaway they thought they stopped paying but . . .” 

“Victoria snuck some payments,” I finished. 

“Yes and a few in advance.” He sighed. “She thought she would be around longer.” 

“Okay so Victoria was obsessed with mermaids. She obsessed about a lot of things. Maybe this is a whole lot more than usual but . . . Why are you showing me this?”

Zac shifted, leaning on his elbows. “Victoria and I were never romantically involved. The whole reason why she came to me was for you.” 

“For me? What does that mean?” 

“She was sick of Hannah and maybe . . . God - maybe sick in general! She was hanging on to this mermaid crap like it was the answer to everything! I didn’t know what I was getting myself into until it was too late.” He stood up and walked to the window, trembling. “It started with swimming lessons. I had grown up on the beach. I’ve always loved to surf and she asked me to teach her all about it. Everything and anything to do with the ocean.” 

“She told me not to tell anyone and I found it strange but she brushed it off saying she wanted to surprise everyone with how good she got. When we would hang out she would gush about you. On and on.” He paused and smiled at me. “She knew I liked you.” 

A smile tugged at my own lips. “She knew I liked you, too. That’s why it hurt when I heard you guys might have been sneaking around together.” 

He shook his head. “She vented about Hannah and how bad she’d make her feel. At first she was reserved about it but I suppose the more you spend time with someone the harder it is to put up a front. I felt bad for her.” 

“But she must have known we all felt that way! Why didn’t she come to us?” When I thought about it, the pain that came with being in a superficial toxic friend group was so obvious to each of us but we never spoke about it. Why couldn’t we confide in each other? 

“Victoria always wanted to be the strong one, you know that. Besides, she was convinced she found a way to fix it. I asked about this master plan of her’s and that’s how I got involved.”

“What did she ask you to do?”

"Watch over you if anything went wrong - which I did in a very cowardly way with some help." 

"How so?" 

"I texted you as Victoria a couple times and gave you the type writer. I wanted to help but I was scared of becoming a target while doing so. That's why I bailed on our date." He huffed and shook out his hands like he was about to say something that made him nervous.

"I really did like you. I still do." 

He didn't wait for a response to continue - which I was glad for. He knew this wasn't the time. 

"Eline helped too. She saw Hannah go up the hill that night and followed her. She saw Victoria and her arguing so she left . . . she was so scared of being a witness that she faked the intensity of her trauma and dropped clues in the safety of the asylum." 

I remembered the young woman's sketches - much like the ones decorating this room. She revealed Hannah was up on the cliff with Victoria and explained what sirens were to me. That night when I caught her speaking to someone in her room - she must have been speaking with Zac.

"So does she think Hannah killed her?" 

"Not exactly. She believes in the more 'supernatural' explanation." 

He brushed his hair out of his face while scanning the room. His eyes found what he was searching for. He took out a book from the pile at his feet and handed it to me. 

"The librarian gave you a book claiming that it was the last book Victoria checked out. This was the actual last book she read." 

The Siren Code.

The book was a new printed release of a book written in 1843. It was a paper back that was worn and torn from use and smelled musty. Flipping through, it seemed to provide detailed accounts of sirens, explaining their lives and purpose. 

"Page 135," Zac said between chewing on his fingernails. 

I flipped over. 

How To Enact The Siren Curse

"This was her plan?" I blinked at the page, feeling a humorless laugh coming. "What? She was going to curse Hannah?" 

"After doing research, she found that Hannah is linked to a suspected siren bloodline going back to her great grandmother who drowned mysteriously. She called Eline because their cousins, Eline knew a lot about it and use to kind of believe the folklore herself. She dived deeper and deeper. Suddenly I wasn't getting paid to only give her swimming and surfing lessons but to help her research." 

I took a sip of the honey flavored tea, considering this. "Okay but what does that have to do with this Siren Code book?" 

"I could try to explain this to you but honestly I can't even begin to decipher what was going on in Victoria's head." He walked over to the computer monitor and turned it on. "I think it'd be best if she explained it herself." 

After clicking a few keys, he dragged his mouse over to a video file and clicked. Crouching down next to me, he wrapped his arm around the back of my chair. His breath was warm against my neck. 

“She left this for you.” 

I broke out into a nervous sweat. 

Victoria left me a video? 

Her face appeared on the screen. She was sitting in the very seat I was with her black hair damp and long. Her eyes were bright and filled with passion, chest rising and falling as she took a few breaths. 

I hadn’t looked at any photos of her since the funeral. I couldn't bring myself to look at a still image and accept that those stationary, lifeless pixels were as close as I could get to seeing her again. 

There she was, right in front of me, fidgeting and breathing. It still wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. 

“Hey, little mermaid! If you’re watching this then things haven’t gone as planned.” 

A whimper escaped my lips causing Zac’s hand to tighten around my shoulder. 

“What I’m planning to do is risky . . . or was risky. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you. I know that’s what our biggest fear is: Being alone.” She adjusted her black tank top and then sighed. She stared into the webcam for a moment and it felt like she was really looking at me - like she saw me. She kicked off her boots and continued. “Making a goodbye video is hard. Imagine if I actually had to look you in the eyes.” 

She should have. I wanted to yell at her. 

You should have told me all of this in person! Things would have turned out so different. 

“Anyways, Hannah has been tormenting me for too long. I don’t want to be in our stupid little group anymore! I haven’t for a while! What we do is sick, Ari. You have to understand that.” Tears welled up in her eyes though I could tell she was trying to stay strong. “Everytime I try to breakaway - everytime I come up with enough courage to say no - she comes up with a way to make things my fault or threaten me into silence! I can't live like this for much longer.” 

I wasn’t the first one to try and leave the group. It was Victoria and she had experienced the same resistance I had. 

“I found a way to end things once and for all. I can free us. I hope that in my absence you can continue what I started.” She leaned into the camera, a new look in her eyes. It was something I had seen in my visits to Eline. It was madness. “You can save us. You are our saviour.” 

I glanced over at Zac who returned a shrug. “This is the first time I’ve watched this. I was waiting for you.” 

She goes on for six minutes about finding out Hannah had ancestors who were rumored to be sirens. Her great grandmother's mysterious drowning came to mind. Victoria thought that Hannah’s evil nature and ability to manipulate trailed back to her roots so she decided the only way to overcome her would be to become a siren. 

“I’m going to summon the siren spirit. Once it possesses me, I will be stronger than Hannah - who merely qualifies as a siren ancestor.” I flinch as Victoria cackles about this, clapping her hands together and spinning in her seat. “I’m going to make sure she never bothers anyone again.” 

Her face falls. “Except . . . if you’re watching this I failed.” 

It no longer felt like I was watching my best friend. She was as familiar to me as Hannah’s clone version of her. The girl I knew was not bitter or murderous. 

Zac cursed in frustration. “I urged her to talk to someone when I saw how much she was changing but . . . was hellbent on this.” 

It would have been different if it was me. 

I was her best friend. She would have listened. We were feeling the exact same pain right next to each other. 

“This is where you come in,” she said, glowering at the camera. “I might have went through your mother's old research stuff. I found this.” She pulled out a leather journal tied in string. I had never seen it before.

“Your mother thought mermaids were real just like me. She was researching them! And when your grandmother caught me she told me that your parents were murdered because they were harboring one. It was you.” She broke into a big smile. “You are actually a mermaid.” 

My mouth fell open. 

She was that far gone? How did this go unnoticed? She was around me almost everyday. 

“Where did she get that from?” Zac asked. His facial expression told me that he could believe that what she said was true if I said so. 

“My mom did research marine life. My gran . . .” I sucked in a breath. I didn't want to talk about her Alzheimer's. I felt enough pain as it was. "My gran is old and sometimes her thoughts get mixed up.” 

 “So she claims her child was murdered for harboring a mermaid?” 

“I don’t know.” I brought my hand to my forehead, not sure how much more of this I could take. 

“If I’m dead - it’s because the siren spirit was too strong for me. It tends to possess the nearest siren ancestor which in my knowledge is Hannah. Since you’re a mermaid you can defeat any siren!" 

There were only seconds left of the video. 

She bit the side of her cheek. “There’s not much left to say. I told Zac to take care of you so . . . I hope he’s doing that or else I’ll haunt him!” She made a spooky face and then giggled. All I could muster was smirk. “Well . . . Bye, Arielle. Stay strong. Love you.” 

She tapped the side of the mouse and it was over. 

Zac and I stared at the screen in silence for a while. My thoughts were swirling like the ocean waves on a stormy day. When I tried to grab onto a thought it faded away. Soon everything felt foggy.

Who killed Victoria? 

It couldn’t have been me. I had doubted myself a few hours ago but with my fever going down and a quiet place to think I knew the theory was stupid - at least in my eyes. Everyone else sure believed it. 

I thought it was Hannah. I was sure just a few hours ago! Tori’s claims that it was siren spirit in her were purely asserted out of madness, right? If she was right - if I let myself entertain the thought - that would have so many implications that my brain could not even venture off to think about. 

And did Victoria really ask me to murder Hannah? Was that what she meant by ‘destroying the siren’? 

“Arielle.” Coming out of my thoughts, I saw Zac crouched in front of me, studying me with his sea colored eyes. “I messed up by not being completely honest with you. I didn’t protect you the way I should have.” 

“It was a lot to put on you. What she asked of you wasn’t fair,” I said and I meant it. He was put in a bad position. All of us were. 

“Still, I should have been better. I also know that you are capable of making your own decisions. Whatever you choose to do from here on out, I’ll support. Whether that means going to the cops or running away.” 

When I laughed he playfully shoved my arm. “Hey! I mean it! We can change our names and move to New York or something.” 

I grimaced. “New York? They have murderers up there too, you know. Ever heard of The Beast?” 

“No, but with our reputation we’ll fit right in.” 

“You think they’ll blame you too?” 

He nodded. “Their probably drawing little connecting arrows between our pictures on their evidence board as we speak.” He held one of my hands in his. They felt soft and warm. 

“We’re like the new Bonnie and Clyde.” 

We sat for a while. I gazed at the room, wondering if anything in it would cause the police and my friends to view me any differently than they had earlier: probably not. 

“Know what you want to do?” 

“Yeah,” I answered. This I was sure of. 

“I want to sleep.”