Rush (13 page)

Best keep close to 'em. I jog back to my helmet and strap it on. I fight with the helmet lamp, but can't get it to flame and race back toward the cave mouth. I bend down, catch a flash of light in the distance.

I step in and make for the spot. It could be them, but it might just be the direction they're looking. It's all I've got.

“Hold up. I'm coming!”

No reply. I step forward and bats swarm around my head. “Mox?”

Muffled laughter up ahead, and I grope forward in darkness. I'm descending. Loose rock gives way beneath my hiking shoes, and I slide down five feet, maybe ten. All is cold and black, and I turn. The entrance is gone. So is my hand, inches in front of my face.

I face front and strain to hear any noise. Beneath the squeak of dive-bombing bats, there's a new sound, a gurgling. Water.

I bend and move toward it—one hand on the ceiling, one on the wall. The sides of the cave pinch in until they scrape my arms. I try to step back, uphill. My shoulders wedge, and for a moment I'm trapped beneath the earth.

Blood pounds in my ears. I stick out my leg and wave it back and forth. It feels like the Pinch opens. I take a deep breath and force my body forward. The earth releases me, and I stumble on, tumble ten feet off an outcropping, and land with a splash. Water races over me, and steals my breath. I stand and gasp in the subterranean stream.

Mox's laugh. Loud and clear, just ahead. I splash wildly through the stream—the water laps my thighs, deepens.

“I'm right here! Mox!”

Ahead I hear the jumping of some tremendous fish. Water swirls around my waist, and I pause. I'm cold. My feet are losing feeling. I need to get out of here fast.

I wade forward, hands out to the sides. One strikes metal. The tank. It swirls around and around.

Something's not right. Where are they? I inch ahead and tap riverbed rock with my foot. Another giant step. I bounce on my front toe and try to bear weight. My foot must be numb. I feel nothing.

Solid footing gives way, and I plunge beneath the waterline. My hands fly out, brace against the smooth rock on all sides.

The tube that surrounds me is so tight there's no use kicking. I wriggle my arms above my head, and my hands slip off the stone.

My mind clears.

I hurdle downward, deeper into my tomb. I have thirty seconds of air. Down, down. Then
whoosh
, I enter another fast-flowing river that sweeps me ahead into darkness. My helmet bounces off rocky outcrop-pings; my flesh rips off stone daggers.

Pain sizzles over my shoulders, but it doesn't hurt for long. I'm too busy dying.

I've a few seconds of air left, and I swim with the current, explode upward. My head pops out of water and I gasp, whisk out beneath a starry sky. The river bubbles, and I fight my way to the edge, haul up onto my belly.

“Oh. Oh.” The word fights out in jagged whispers. My heartbeat slows, then quickens. I recognize the huge rock in front of me and realize I'm a long way from the Jeep.

I stagger up, bleed, and the earth spins. I stumble forward and hear Koss's voice.
Stay away from Mox. Say no to his offers. He hates you.
I glance off a tree and run faster. Time blurs. My vision blurs. I break out of trees and see the empty Jeep.

I crash into the back, collapse into the seat, and throw up.

My world shakes, I shake, and my thoughts can't stay still.

I reach for a jacket, huddle beneath, and wait to die. I slip into a dream, a beautiful one. Scottie and I talk with sleepy voices, tucked in sleeping bags beside a roaring fire. Through the smoke, I see Mom and Dad, huddled together, their voices soft and warm. The world is right. Everything's right.

Until Scottie stands and yanks my sleeping bag and the chill reaches bone.

I try to holler, but I get colder and colder, and my voice freezes in my throat.

My body jerks hard, and I hear muddled voices. “He's still alive.”

“He got through without air. Moxie, let it go.”

 

A gentle hand plays with my hair, and I crack an eyelid. It's dark, but it's warm in my room, and Salome sits on the bed.

I exhale slowly. “I'm glad it's you—Wait, you shouldn't be here.” I wring my hands beneath the sheets. Skin burns. A cold burn.

“Is that a way to greet a friend? I could probably beat you to a pulp right now.”

I close my eyes. I can't put it together—why Salome is in the villa she hates, how I got here in the first place. I only know I'm a fool, and if I had the choice over again, I wouldn't have gone in that cave.

A shiver works my body, and Salome tucks blankets over my shoulders.

“How—”

“Shut up.” She smiles. “I'll tell you the whole bizarre story, or the majority of it, including the headline—‘Keeping Guarantees Important to Young Women.'” She looks away.

She continues. “I found your note and sat in the car for half an hour. I read that note over and over. I called three friends and my mom before I called you. Do you know what she said? Absolutely nothing.” Salome sighs. “I have a great mom.”

“Yeah, you do. And I'm sorry—”

She places her hand on my mouth and shakes her head. “So I headed back home and crawled into bed, with visions of you in my head. I've been trying hard to get rid of those. Then the phone rang.”

“For you?”

She doesn't answer. “It was a nice guy, and he wanted to stop by Saturday.”

My jaw tightens. “You said no.”

“I said, ‘I already have plans.'”

Salome places her hands on her lap, and stares at them. My face now burns hot.

“Who was the jerk?”

She gazes hard at me.

“Who called you?” I ask.

“What right do you have to know? He's a good guy.”

I wince, and she continues. “So all day yesterday I wait for seven o'clock. Because someone I hadn't seen in way too long wanted to see me. And I wanted to see him. I waited until nine, went home, and called the other guy. I told him to come right over.”

“You called—”

“Just shut up. Ten minutes later, I heard the knock. And I'm dressed nice. I looked good. Because all day I'd been dreaming of having a good time, and I was going to have one. I threw on my happy face and threw open the door and just about threw up. Mox stood there dripping. He'd gotten my address from your emergency contact file. He was dazed and looked like he'd seen a ghost, which, now that I've seen you, wasn't too far from the truth. ‘I need you,' he said.”

My stomach lurches.

“‘What you need,' I told him, ‘is a slap in the face.' I started to lay into him about Drew, and he got a funny look. I'd say anxious, if he had an anxious bone in his body. He asked me to step outside. I told him to wait. I told him he came at a really bad time. But he grabbed my arm and yanked me to the road, and there you were, half dead in a Jeep.”

“So I blew off conscious date number two, and hopped in back with the original unconscious note leaver. I assumed we were heading to the hospital, but no again, Mox the Magnificent insisted on bringing you here. Your friends, the fat one and the slimy one, carried you in and took off. They said they'd be back to check on us tomorrow, and tomorrow it is, and here you are.”

“And here you are,” I say.

She shakes her head. “How am I going to get rid of you?”

We sit in silence and look at each other. I wonder what she thinks. How many more times she'll put up with me.

“Your dad was here most of the night. He just left.”

I nod.

“Bubbling Brooke stopped in, too. But she irritated your dad, and I think it may be some time before you see her again.”

I roll my eyes. “I should've been at the library. I shouldn't have gone.”

“When will you stop?” I whisper.

“Stop—”

“Coming for me?”

She turns. “I don't know. It's already different.”

“'Cause I fight fire?”

“No. You're strong and brave, and I bet nobody on your crew can do what you do. I'm proud of that.” She inhales. “But time goes by, and life changes, and I hoped that one day you'd join a crew somewhere far from this place. Where you could be you, and maybe I . . .”

She turns, and I follow her gaze to the balled-up brown jacket in the corner. She stands, walks over, and raises it to eye level.

“‘Jake King,'” Salome reads. She drops it. Her gaze sticks to the floor. Minutes pass—they feel like hours—and she slowly returns to sit on the bed.

“Well, look at you. You put on their jacket. I guess it fits.”

She rubs my forehead, but I know her—the gaze tells me she's not here.

“I know this makes no sense to you.” I swallow hard. “But when I had no air, when I was sure I wasn't going to make it, I felt so . . . normal.”

Salome closes her eyes. I can't watch. Again, she turns away. She can't watch me either.

THERE IS A SUN
. Strips of light cover me, and I look like a photonegative tiger. I stagger up from bed, wait for the room to still, and stumble to the shade to let the fireball in full.

Outside, Brockton cooks beneath the heat. It's the same town today as yesterday. The hardware store, Randall's filling station. It's the same place, hemmed in by mountains that womb and isolate us from the world.

But it's not. It's a different sun today shining on different mountains. The sun is brighter, the mountains not so protective, and the town, well, this morning it's just plain ignorant.

She's gone.

 

I RISE AND SHOWER.
Water drips off blood-caked gashes on my arms and legs. I need to leave, to put as much space as possible between Mox and me. I dress with a grimace and step out into the heat. Minutes later, I wander Brockton's streets. I'm not much for thinking—it's uncomfortable to spend too much time in my head, and I walk blank-minded. I pass Dad's place, once my place. I stare at his neighbors'—once Salome's—home.

But the houses are quiet, and nothing draws me.

“You going to stand there in the street?”

Dad steps out the front door, squints in the sunlight, and clears his throat. I drop my jaw to speak, but nothing comes out.

Dad nods, walks slowly down the steps. “You well?”

“I—I don't know.”

Dad strolls around front to Mom's garden. I should move toward him. I'm his son. But my feet grow heavy, and I've nothing to say.

“Ever think about your mom?”

“No,” I lie.

“Will you sit with me?”

“I need to get back to—”

“Sit down, will you?”

I puff out air, walk onto the lawn, and plop beside him on the grass. It's silent.

Movement, in the corner of my eye. Dad rocks gently and stares straight ahead. I don't know the man who sits beside me.

“Well,” I say. “This is great and all, but—”

Dad grabs my forearm and squeezes.

“You know how I felt when Scottie left. You can't imagine my thoughts when Mox came by and told me about your stunt. He went after you. He tried to stop you from your craziness and save you from yourself, but you did it anyway.”

My arm hurts, and I pull away.

“I thought maybe a little discipline from a man like Moxie Stone would help.” He rubs his face with both hands. “But I don't want to lose you, too.

“I'd have visited again, but they said you just needed rest.” He slaps my back, and I wince. “You look good.”

“I'm okay.”

More silence. I peek at Dad, catch him peeking back.

“I want you to leave the Forest Service, Jake.” His voice strengthens. “I know I pushed you into this. Your mom understood you; I never did. It seemed a decent fit.” Dad turns back to the flowers. “What was this cave thing? That's where they found Kyle.” Again, he clears his throat. “The pressure must be too much.”

“You, Salome, Scottie, Koss, Mox. Every single one of you wants me off this crew. But none of you see what this crew does for me. They're wild and—”

“Think on it. I'll say no more.” Dad stands, brushes off his jeans. “And if you ever want to, I mean, if you have time, maybe you'd want to visit.” He gazes at the house. “It's pretty dark here without you guys.” Dad reaches down and squeezes my shoulders. It burns, but I don't mind. “Take care of yourself, Jake.”

My father disappears into the house.

I look down at my Immortals jacket. My
dad
wants me to quit?

I rise and take a right on Klaeburn. I need to get back to the villa, where there's no thinking needed. Fires burn, training takes over, knock them out. And the entire time my head is free and clear.

The rooms are empty.

I collapse on my bed, fall into restless sleep. Hours later, I wake. I stand and pull the shade. Mountains rise black on gray in the distance.

The cave debacle has faded, and the monster awakes. I need something, and I won't find it here.

I exit the villa. It's too quiet, and night sounds suddenly amplify. I start to jog and freeze. Up ahead, a gray shape vanishes down the path leading to the ravine. I scamper after it. The crunch of its feet stop, start, and stop again. The silhouette is either careful or paranoid, and I duck off the trail and into the woods.

I speed up and soon move beside it. It hates my being here and bends often to look into the trees, but I freeze and it's dark and soon it ignores me.