’Til the World Ends (23 page)

Chapter Five

The blush sizzled up my neck to my cheeks. My spine tingled at knowing how Ian felt because the feeling was mutual. I think I liked him more than was good for me. I wanted to trust him, I really did, but reasons not to were stacking up. Rather than respond to his admission of affection, I redirected back to why he felt the need to steal my SUV in the first place. “Who is this mysterious Kinetic kidnapper anyway?”

Ian faced forward again and tilted his head back, eyes closed. After a short pause, he said, “After my...” He waved his hands up and down the front of his body. “I discovered I could do things with the weather. So I started to experiment. I made the mistake of making it rain on an old woman’s backyard garden. That action attracted the attention of a Secret Service agent who was rounding up Kinetics for the government.”

The existence of Kinetics was no secret, though it stirred up hard feelings for anyone who’d lost a loved one to Sun Fever. Many Kinetics kept their abilities private to deter resentment. If the government sought us out, they’d have to do some digging to uncover all the ones staying under the radar. “Why would the U.S. government have any interest in us?”

“According to Agent
Sam Nichol,
” he said, putting emphasis on the man’s name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, “there’s a plan to use us to heal the planet.”

This news was encouraging, but Ian’s grimace expressed the opposite.

“How is that a bad thing?” I asked.

“I’m not sure that it is, but I’m positive Nichol is. Bad, I mean.”

“What did he do?”

“He started out okay,” Ian said. “A genuinely nice guy doing his duty for his country. When he first told me about the plan to collect all the Kinetics and house them at the military base inside Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs, I was on board. I believed him. Then he lost his wife and kids to the fever. He was grief-stricken at first, then bitter, then crazy, and then he got mean.”

I could see how that would happen, especially to someone whose job must have been stressful. The electromagnetic interference from the solar storms affected
everyone
in some way. Personality and mood changes were only the half of it. Add to that the vitamin and mineral deficiencies in a poor diet of rations and you got a stew of dysfunctional people.

“Had you and Nichol become friends?” I asked.

“No.” He pressed his lips together before grinding out, “Enemies.”

“What did he do to make you hate him so much?”

“He drugged me, beat me and kept me chained up in a trailer while he went from town to town, selling my services to the highest bidder.” Ian flipped up the hank of hair that usually covered the scar on his right eyebrow. “He gave me this. Threw a whisky bottle at me when I couldn’t make enough rain. I’d drained the reservoir, but it wasn’t enough, so he busted my head open.” He dropped the hair and hunched forward, his body stiff with rage.

My chest tightened as I considered what it must have been like for him: treated as a slave and forced to perform weather tricks like a trained monkey. Ian had amazing control over his ability, and those who used him had probably made it a habit of demanding the impossible. For Ian to be so traumatized by his experience, I had to wonder what else he’d had to endure when he failed to deliver to Nichol’s satisfaction.

“How did you get away?” I asked.

“The same way I got caught. I used weather.” He lifted one hand and waved it in a small circle.

“Ah. You made a cyclone.”

He nodded and dropped his hand. “It wasn’t a big one, but strong enough to create the distraction I needed. I’ve been running ever since.”

That’s why he was always looking over his shoulder. “You haven’t seen this Nichol guy since?”

Ian shook his head. “I doubt he’s far away. He won’t stop looking for me because I made good money for him. He has a pimped-out SUV like yours, only faster and with more modifications. I figured I’d have a better chance eluding him if I had one, too.” He dipped his chin and stared down at his lap.

My mind kept scrolling back to what he’d said about the government. “What do you know about this plan to heal the planet?”

“Not much. Only that Nichol said that the conjoined powers of Kinetics would be strong enough to stop the storms. He also said he didn’t believe it.”

The theory made sense. Ian and I had felt the surge of power between us when he’d held me. He’d passed some of his kinetic energy to me, which is why I hadn’t gone through withdrawals right after I’d failed to chase the sun storm in Denver. Or at least I hadn’t suffered them yet. A faint pounding in my ears and a twitching sensation in my legs told me I wasn’t off the hook. The withdrawals were just delayed, and I hoped they wouldn’t be severe.

Ian shot me a concerned look. “Your hands are shaking.”

I glanced at my fingers gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white as bone. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t hide their trembling. “So they are.”

“You okay?”

“I will be as soon as I can chase another storm.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my T-shirt.

“I understand.”

I doubted he really did. He didn’t know what it was like to be a monster that fed off the source of other people’s suffering. The pain of withdrawal was my just desert, and I was okay with that.

My vision blurred and I almost ran off the road.

“You better let me drive,” Ian said.

“Not a chance,” I told him, blinking hard to stay focused. We had only a few blocks left before reaching the hospital. I barely managed to get us there without wrecking the Trooper.

I parked the car inside the ambulance bay, and we sat in silence for a minute while I gathered enough wits to open the door and climb out. Ian did, as well. His slouched posture revealed his guilt for what he’d done, but at least now I understood why. He wasn’t a malevolent man, just a reckless one.

“Want to get that drink?” he asked me, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Look, Ian, I can forgive what you did, but it might be best if we—”

“Kept our distance,” he finished with a nod. “I get it.”

I was going to say waited a few days, but perhaps distance was the better plan. After today, I doubted he’d stay in town much longer anyway. Best to cut the connection now because it would be much harder to do if I started liking him more than I already did.

“Thank you for saving me today,” I told him, but he was already on the other side of the garage. The heavy thud of a closed door echoed against the concrete walls and inside the hollow chambers of my heart.

I felt no better after waking from my short nap, just hungry. I craved something salty. Tonight was a good night to treat myself to some real meat, even if it was tough as an old tire.

After taking a quick bath, I headed out into the cooler, eighty-degree night to get a meager meal of jerky and dried fruit. Eating should boost my energy by at least a watt or two.

I stood at the intersection in the middle of town, facing Martha June’s General Store. I saw the abandoned Quick Stop gas station on the corner next to the hardware store, and the empty Java Jungle drive-through in the parking lot. It was twilight, and people were just leaving their homes to start their day. Children went to school at night, during the same hours their parents went to work. The town came alive when the sun went down.

Evening wasn’t as dark as it used to be before the solar storms. Though the sun wasn’t visible, it left its imprint with charged particles that collided with atoms to create a natural light display. There’d been a time when such displays could only be seen in the far north, but now they were everywhere. They used to be called Northern Lights. Today we called them Night Rainbows.

Hardly anyone drove a car anymore since gasoline was rare to nonexistent, and decent solar batteries were hard to find, but almost everyone owned a bicycle or rickshaw. Even with the population sparse as it was, the streets teemed with cyclists tonight.

A mild wind blew through town that started out as blustery gusts. The pleased looks on people’s faces expressed their relief at the change in weather, and I had to agree with them. The air was inert most days, so having it brush through my hair like ghostly fingers felt wonderful.

Scraps of paper and dead leaves blew across the street and collected in dry gutters. Women had to hold down their skirts and dresses to keep them from flying up over their heads. What started out as laughter quickly turned to shouts of alarm as tree branches, cardboard boxes and garbage cans rolled over the ground at incredible speed. Someone was struck by flying debris and fell in a rolling heap to the ground.

Taking cover in the wide doorway of a building, I watched helplessly as people were snatched by the maelstrom and tumbled through the streets, their cries swallowed by the wind. The air was hazy with dirt and debris, but I clearly saw a rusted metal lounge chair hurtle toward the general store and smash through its plate-glass window. A man went running toward the building with a child in his arms and a woman slung over his shoulder. He disappeared inside, then came out empty-handed. He vanished into a cloud of swirling dust and trash, but returned with two more children that he deposited inside the store.

When the man came out again, he doubled over, coughing and wiping a sleeve across his forehead. He lifted his face, and the dust cleared enough for me to see who it was. I was struck by his scowl of determination, how tight he clenched his jaw, and the white scar that bisected his right eyebrow. Ian Matthews straightened and squared his shoulders, his chest puffed out as if he’d just taken a fortifying breath. Then his posture changed. He jerked his chin up and stood squarely to face me.

Chapter Six

My gaze locked with Ian’s, and though we were at least fifty yards apart, I could feel the pull of his power. He appeared calm, yet fierce, and my heart thrummed against my ribs as his strength attracted me like a magnet.

I had to go to him. I mean, I really had to, as in I was
compelled
to join him. To join
with
him. Letting go of the door frame, I crouched low to the ground to create drag and slowly made my way across the street. Ian’s eyes grew wide with surprise, and he shook his head, waving for me to go back. He had no idea the command he had over me just then. I could
not
refuse his silent and subconscious call.

A shadow of worry darkened his face, and his eyes began losing their glow. He started walking toward me.

I shook my head. “Keep at it!” I shouted. “Stop the wind!”

I doubted he could hear me through the roar of whirling air that tossed around pebbles like popping corn. But he understood because he halted his advance, and his eyes began to glow again. I ran the last ten feet and flung my arms around him to stop myself from blowing away.

The second our bodies touched, there was that same power surge as before. My head against his chest, I heard his heart beat strong and steady. My own heart beat in rhythm with his, like a melody in perfect tempo.

We were encased inside an invisible bubble that repelled the wind. The bubble grew, shoving the maelstrom farther and farther away until not a single twig blew in the street. The storm was over.

Ian and I continued to cling to one another, both of us thinking the wind might come rushing back. But after a few minutes, the calm continued. We were safe. And so was the town.

I blinked at the sudden realization that my withdrawal symptoms had vanished, as well. He had channeled kinetic energy through us both, and that was enough for the fix I needed. At least until the next storm.

“That was incredible,” Ian murmured.

“I know.” I slowly released him and stepped back. “The power...” I was conflicted about our connection. As good as it felt, surrendering myself to his control didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t ready. Being that vulnerable with another person, especially someone I hardly knew, someone who had deceived me, wasn’t easy to accept. I wasn’t sure I ever could.

“You look amazing, Sarah,” he told me. “You’re glowing.”

“Oh, no.” I sucked in a breath. My fingers traced over my face. “Literally?”

He smiled. “No. As in healthy.”

I closed my eyes in relief. “Look, Ian. What just happened was amazing, but I haven’t changed my mind about how I feel. We need distance from each other.”

A frown replaced his smile. He studied me for a minute, his piercing gaze trying to read what was in my mind. “So you’re telling me I should move on.”

I knew this would happen sooner or later. I didn’t want him to leave, but that might be best for both of us, at least for the time being. “It doesn’t have to be forever. When the world returns to normal—”

“For better or worse, you and I both know the world will never be like it was,” he said, his dark eyes intense. “And neither will we. What we’ve become is never going to change. Tell me what scares you, Sarah.”

He
scared me. I was afraid of what he’d done to me just now, whether he’d meant to or not. “I give myself over to my ability with every premonition I have,” I told him, biting off each word. It was important that he understand. “Losing control to you, too, is more than I can handle.”

Bewildered, he said, “You still don’t trust me.”

Not after he’d lied and tried to steal from me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not yet.”

His expression abruptly changed. It was as if he’d erected a wall between us, his eyes hard and his lips pressed tight together. He narrowed his gaze and cocked his head slightly to the side. “It’s just as well. Once news about how we stopped the windstorm reaches Nichol, he’ll come here looking for me, and when he does, I don’t want him near you. I’ll keep my distance, but I’m not leaving town. I’m staying to protect you.”

My pulse jumped. Part of me was glad that he’d be staying. The other part knew how hard it would be not to get close to him again.

* * *

After three days of avoiding each other, Ian and I both performed the job of a hospital orderly. We helped feed patients, bathed and dressed them, read to them and assisted them in any nonmedical way we could, all without coming in direct contact with one another.

The hospital was small and had only a couple of wings. On the rare occasion that our paths crossed, Ian appeared closed off, guarded, always looking over his shoulder. It drove me mad to know he lived in the hospital basement, and I was a mere two floors above him. I longed for a better compromise than distance, but separation had been my idea. That made it my problem. Not his.

I sat in an armchair positioned by the window, the blinds only partially drawn since blessed twilight had taken the burning sunshine away. I was reading to a patient in hospice care. Night Rainbows undulated like waves of fairy dust in the distance, their beauty a contradiction to the destructive force that made them.

Sally Gardner lay in a coma on her hospital bed. No medicine existed that could bring down her fever, and it hurt to see her like this. She reminded me of my mother. I hoped the sound of my voice gave her comfort. I wanted her to know she wouldn’t die alone.

Ian walked in and stopped when he saw me. “Sorry, I just came in to change her bedding. I’ll leave you alone.” He turned around to leave.

I closed the book in my lap. “Don’t go. I’m sure Sally would appreciate the company.” And so would I. Realizing I was violating my own rule, I expected him to walk out the door and not come back.

His gaze shifted away from the dying woman on the bed to study the floor. “I remember you saying that your mother died of the fever.”

I nodded, pleased that he hadn’t walked out. Maybe it was time to lift the moratorium on our fragile friendship. “But my mom died at home with my father and me at her bedside. This poor woman doesn’t have anyone.”

Head still lowered, he gazed up at me, his eyes tender with meaning. “So you know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

“Do you?”

He approached the bed and ran the backs of his fingers gently down Sally’s arm. “I lost them both the same day.”

My hunch about something troubling him was right. I imagined it was hard for him to talk about, but maybe all he needed was to get it off his chest. He must have a lot of pain buried inside. “Your parents?”

“My wife and daughter.”

Hearing that was like a punch to the gut. His grief explained a lot about his behavior. I’m not sure why, but I never would have guessed he’d been married and had a child. To hide my surprise, I flipped through the pages of the book in my lap. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Lacie was only four years old. She and her mother had suffered terribly, and the mercy of death released all three of us from the pain of hanging on. They died at the exact same moment. I held them both in my arms when they drew their last breath. It was a miracle.”

Hearing the love in his voice made my heart swell with affection for him. “I didn’t understand why I’d survived the fever and my family hadn’t. I felt guilty. That’s why I left Boston, to search for answers.”

Survivor guilt. It was a common affliction among the living, and I understood what he’d gone through. “Did you find them?”

He shook his head. “What started out as a quest for truth turned into a desperate fight for freedom after Nichol took me. Since my escape, I’ve focused so much on not getting caught again that I almost forgot what had sent me on the road in the first place.” His haunted eyes swiveled to look at me. “Until I came here.”

My pulse quickened. Why couldn’t he have just been an ordinary man? I think even without his kinetic powers he’d be special. I was glad he’d come to Lodgepole and was about to say so when a flash of light brightened the window. Then came a boom loud enough to rattle the blinds.

“What the hell?” Ian ran to the window, and I left the chair to stand beside him. Two blocks away, the community center flickered with flames as smoke belched from its broken windows.