Ignited (20 page)

“It was our fault,” I continued. “We should have never gone out, should have never gone to that party.”

“You changed your plans,” Nathan said quietly, never taking his focus off his task. He hesitated, like he was deciding on how much, or simply
how
, to tell me. “The prophet called me, said she saw you in an accident with three other girls, told me where it happened, all the details, all the places you were going to be. I worked out a plan to intercept you—all of you—before you ever got into the car, but something changed. You changed your plans. You never showed up where I was waiting. I barely made it to the crash site in time.”

“What changed?” A second after I asked, I knew. Callie was supposed to have been the third other girl. Because she wasn’t with us, we never went to Josh’s house before the party, like she had wanted us to. Our plans had changed the moment Callie was caught sneaking out of her window.

Nathan shrugged. “Whatever it was, it was enough to throw a ripple through the whole night, and change it enough that I couldn’t stop the accident from happening. I wanted to. I tried. I’m sorry I couldn’t.”

I felt as if I were a balloon being slowly deflated. He was right. Learning the truth didn’t help. If anything, my heart clenched tighter at discovering how close he had come to saving them. So many should-haves, could-haves, and what-ifs; so many alternate outcomes; so close to the one that wouldn’t have ruined all of our lives...

He had tried.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He hooked an eyebrow and glanced at me.

“For telling me,” I added. “For trying.”

Though I knew he did, he gave no indication that he heard me. And I thought I was good at avoidance? He excelled in it.

He gripped my wrist tightly, pulling my hand closer. “This is the last one. It’s deep.”

The way he put his arm over top of mine, trapping it against his torso, worried me. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

He finally looked at me, and held my gaze. “You punched a mirror,” he deadpanned. “Of course it’s going to hurt.”

He was right. It hurt. A lot. Fortunately, I had no tears left to shed.

He had suggested that we take the rest of the day easy, and ride into town tomorrow instead. I had insisted on doing it today. More than anything, I needed to get my mind off of everything I had just learned. Besides, after getting some answers, I was greedy for more. Surely, the Kala had learned something by now.

Not that I was in a hurry to leave the cabin. Not now. It had grown on me and, even if he was intolerable most of the time, so had Nathan. Times like now, when he wasn’t an unbearable jackass, I even enjoyed his company.

He sure was easy to mess with, too.

“Hey, Sensei?”

We were stopped at the gas station to fill up the tank on the motorcycle. His eyes rolled to mine. “Stop calling me that.”

I ignored him and extended my hand, palm up. “I’ll go inside to pay for the gas, if you buy me a candy bar.”

He handed me his hat and a wad of cash. “Get two.”

I slipped the hat on with a smile and backed away. “As you wish, Sensei.” I didn’t stick around long enough to hear him complain about the nickname. I liked it; it was a keeper.

I circled the candy aisle a few times before settling on a variety of king-sized chocolate bars. By the time I got to the counter, Nathan had finished pumping, and I paid for the gas and candy all at once. I had taken awhile deciding on the snacks, and was surprised Nathan hadn’t already stormed inside, looking for me. Once the chocolate was safely bagged, I hurried out the door.

Nathan had parked the motorcycle next to the entrance. He was straddling it, staring intently across the street, and paying no attention to me. From the looks of it, I could have spent all day in the store and he wouldn’t have noticed. 

“What’s up?” I asked, gliding up next to him and following his gaze.

Across the street was Dee’s—I assumed our next destination, and where I hoped we would be getting lunch. But then, there was something about the look on Nathan’s face that told me that wasn’t going to happen. I had seen that look before.

“Nathan? What is it?”

He didn’t move. “See those guys over there?” 

I reexamined Dee’s parking lot. It was full. I assumed that was because it was a Sunday, and Dee’s was a perfect after-church kind of place. I watched a family of five exit the restaurant, the young kids squealing as they raced to their car. A middle-aged man sat on a bench by the front door, reading a newspaper. A young man paced beside a black truck as he talked on his cell. Nothing looked amiss to me.

“They’re waiting for us,” Nathan said quietly.

A goose bump producing shiver whipped down my spine at the icy calm in his voice. I zeroed in on the guy on his phone. He seemed the most likely suspect. “How do you know?”

Nathan tossed me my helmet. “They found us. We have to go.”

My hands trembled as I put Nathan’s hat and the candy bars into the backpack, and put it and the helmet on. He waited until I was securely seated behind him before starting the engine.

We shot out of the parking lot onto the road, angling away from Dee’s. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw the man still on his phone, still pacing beside the truck. No one followed.

As we sped out of town, I realized Nathan had gone slowly all the other times. Now, he pushed the bike so fast I half expected it to sprout wings and fly. I pressed myself to his back, held on tight, and tried to lean into the turns with him.

We leaned into one so far, I swore my helmet was inches from scrapping blacktop. I squeezed tighter, closed my eyes, and didn’t open them again until we came to a stop in front of the shed. I jumped off the bike, unscathed, but shaking. Nathan’s urgency, on top of the hellish ride, had turned me into a wobbly bundle of nerves.

He fixed me with his gaze. “Put a few changes of clothes for both of us and some food in the bag.” He was walking backwards toward the shed as he talked, and waved his hand at me dismissively. “Pack whatever you think we might need for a few days and meet me back here.”

He dashed to the shed, and I ran to the cabin. 

I was terrified, but managed to keep my fear under control long enough to concentrate on what I needed to do. I packed the clothes first, then darted to the kitchen and threw a few rations of food in. I paused to survey the cabin, looking for anything else we might need. Confident I hadn’t missed anything, I turned for the door.

Nathan was already there, waiting for me.

“I think I got everything,” I told him as I tossed the bag over my shoulder.

I had expected to have to run to keep up with him as he sprinted for the motorcycle. Instead, he stepped farther into the cabin, crossing the short distance between us in a few strides.

I stood, frozen by the odd sensation that something wasn’t right. What, exactly, that was, I couldn’t put a finger on.

Until Nathan’s hands reached out and closed around my neck.

My eyes bulged both from the shock and the pressure on my throat. I gasped for air, got nothing. Blood seeped from his arms where my nails dug in, but his grip never loosened. His lips were tight with exertion as he squeezed. There was no question he was trying to kill me, and would kill me.  

“Everyone wants you dead,” he grunted, his voice ice-cold and alien.

I didn’t have time to dwell on what was wrong with him or why everyone, including him, wanted me dead. Spots filled my vision as the blackness closed in. This time, Nathan wouldn’t save me.

Desperation kicked in. I dug my nails deeper, hit him when that didn’t work; kicked his shin and stomped on his feet. His response was to coolly press his thumb into my windpipe so hard I feared it would snap in half.

There was no use trying any of the self-defense moves he had shown me. He had control now and beat me ninety-nine percent of the time anyway, in practice, when he wasn’t trying. He was trying now.

I was seconds from unconsciousness and death—at the hands of the one I had come to count on. This time, my life was in my own hands. It was up to me, and there was only one thing I thought might work.

I packed as much force as I could behind my knee as I drove it up and into his groin. His grip loosened as he doubled over, allowing me to slip from his grasp and take a breath.

He reached for me, but I dodged him and brought my knee up again. It connected with his face, and sent him stumbling back, blood spurting from his nose. I didn’t stop to admire my accomplishment this time.

I ran.

He wouldn’t be down long and, when he recovered, I would need a weapon. My only chance was to make it to the shed. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him coming fast behind me. I put my head down and pumped my arms and legs harder.

By some miracle, I reached the shed without him catching me, scrambled through the door, and picked up the first weapon I found. I spun around, lifting a pistol, as Nathan appeared in the doorway.

He cocked his head to the side like he was amused to see me armed, but didn’t come any closer. I backed up, putting as much distance between myself and him as I could, until I bumped into the counter behind me.  

“What’s wrong with you?” I shouted at him.

Something had to be wrong. It was like he was possessed.

He grinned cruelly and took a menacing step forward. His eyes shifted to the counter to his right, to the weapons just out of his reach. Only two swift steps separated him from them.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. I was shaking so hard I was in danger of dropping the gun, but I kept it trained on him. If he lunged for the weapons, I would have to shoot him. Otherwise, I would be dead the moment he had something in his hands.

It was me or him.

He took a step to his right.

I wondered if the gun had coated or regular bullets. If I knew it was loaded with non-coated bullets, I could wound him and buy myself some time to determine what had gotten into him. If they were coated and I was forced to shoot him, I would kill him.

I wasn’t sure I was prepared to do that. Not to anyone. Especially him.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” I pleaded.

He lifted a foot to take the last remaining step, his callous grin daring me to pull the trigger. I had a split second to convince myself to shoot. I pointed the gun at his knee and prayed the bullets weren’t coated.

A shot rang out. He fell forward, face down, motionless. And then he disappeared.

“No!” I screamed.

No, no, no, no
.

I stared in disbelief at the bare spot on the floor where he had fallen. I had adjusted my aim, I knew I had. I didn’t even remember pulling the trigger, but I must have because Nathan was gone. Dead and gone.

And then he wasn’t.

He was rounding the corner of the shed frantically, concern etched all over his face. I automatically lifted the gun rattling in my hands and pointed it at him. Again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he shouted, putting his arms out in front of him, the gun in his hands held out in a nonthreatening way. His eyes raked over me anxiously. “Are you hurt?”

What?
I grimaced at him. I couldn’t have imagined it. My throat was still raw from nearly being strangled to death. “You just tried to kill me.” It came out sounding like a question because, really, I had no idea what was happening.

His eyes lowered to the crimson spot on the floor. It was evidence that I had not imagined the body that had fallen there a moment ago. So how was he standing in front of me now?

“It wasn’t me, Kris,” Nathan said slowly.

“What?” I half choked, half whimpered.

“It was a mirror image of me,” he explained as he edged closer, and motioned over his shoulder. “I killed two of his buddies behind the cabin, saw him chasing you in here, and I shot him. It was me who shot.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t wrap my head around what he was telling me. I wasn’t capable of computing two plus two. “You can create mirror images of each other?”

He nodded. “Some can.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I didn’t think that was something you would need to know yet.” He visibly regretted omitting that tidbit now.

“Everybody wants me dead.” I kept the gun raised, shakily fixed on him.

“I don’t,” he said softly. “I’ve invested way too much time and energy into keeping you safe all this time to want you dead now, don’t you think?”

“Don’t over explain things. Just say what you mean!”

“I thought I did.” He took a careful step toward me, holding his hands out like I was an escaped circus animal. His eyes held mine unflinchingly. He looked sincere, and I wanted to believe him. I really did. 

He took another step. Too close. “Stop!”  I yelled.

He straightened, and his eyes lowered to the gun rattling in my hands. We both knew it was more likely that I would unintentionally pull the trigger from shaking so hard than on purpose.