Earthbound
Page 83
It’s raining.
More than raining; it’s suddenly pouring. But it has no effect on the roaring flames.
Benson’s hand tightens on mine and he drags me along.
My heart freezes when I see them.
Their bodies are half charred and I wouldn’t even recognize Mark if I couldn’t tell it was Sammi cradled protectively in his blackened arms. He threw his body over hers, but a frail human shield wasn’t enough. The explosion must have seared up her left side, killing her instantly but leaving her right side eerily preserved. Her eyelids are mercifully closed but blistering red even as I tear my eyes away and feel the urge to retch rise in my throat.
Elizabeth leads the way, skirting the flames while Benson and I follow her.
She’s almost at the edge of the clearing when something catches her foot and she stumbles toward the burning car. She screams as she falls against the blistering hot metal, and the sound is almost swallowed up by the raging fire.
And then, instantly, the flames are gone.
Gone.
The destruction remains, but the orange fire has disappeared. Almost as if magicked out of existence.
Out of existence.
Of course. I remember now. Equals and opposites. There are Creators like me.
And there are Destroyers. The term Sammi used. I didn’t question it at the time because I knew intrinsically that it was right.
There’s another Earthbound here.
Benson pulls me away, yanking me toward the edge of the clearing. “We have to go now!”
Even as we turn, I hear another sound—this one so completely dissonant that I think I would have heard it over a hurricane.
A chuckle.
A long shadow approaches, but the twilight air is too murky to make out a face until she raises her head.
“Marie?” I whisper, completely baffled. Her hair is pulled sharply back from her face instead of falling in its usual soft waves, and her sleek pantsuit and large silver pendant are worlds away from the dresses and cardigans from the library. She’s tall and stands straight, with a regal air that speaks of both power and pride. Even with rivulets of rain coursing down her face, she looks like a goddess.
Benson’s arm tightens, pulling me against him so hard I can barely breathe. “Run,” he orders, then pushes me away.
I force my legs to move, bursting with sudden speed, but before I’ve gone three feet a thick forearm snakes out and catches me across the throat, and suddenly hands are grasping at my waist, my legs, pulling me away from Benson. The icy barrel of a gun presses against my temple and I still as I hear the words, “One more move and you’re dead. Forever.”
I force myself to be still, but my eyes search for Benson, who’s fighting against his captors. “Stop! No! Leave her alone. I told you—” His words cut off with a sharp crack and I can’t stifle a cry as Benson’s head snaps to one side with the force of a blow to his temple.
I glance around at the dozen or so faces. I don’t see Sunglasses Guy, but without his distinguishing shades—not to mention the shadows of the tree branches crisscrossing all of the faces—he could be any of them.
“Ben, it’s okay,” I chance saying, though I don’t move a muscle. “I’m all right.”
“Aw, isn’t that cute,” Marie says in a tone so unlike her quiet librarian voice that I freeze. “He got the Earthbound to crush on him. That was over and above even for a Reduciate, Benson.”
“It’s not like that,” Benson says, still struggling toward me. Blood trickling down his cheek, mingling with the pouring rain, making red streaks like macabre tears. “Let me go!”
“All in good time,” Marie replies—the embodiment of calm—eyeing me as the world seems to spin, everything turning upside down. “You know, when that hotel room was empty this morning, I was pretty sure you had run away on us, but I see you took your little lesson to heart,” she says, brushing the purple bruise under Benson’s eye. He flinches away from her touch.
Time flows around me in slow motion as I turn my head. “Benson?” Did I even say it out loud?
His face is a mask of desperation. “Tavia. I didn’t mean to. I thought—you have no idea.”
“You did this?” I whisper. I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. “No!” I yell the word at Marie. “You’re lying!”
“Am I?” the woman says, so quietly I barely catch her words. “Show her his mark.”
The man holding Benson spins him roughly around and Benson groans as the man tightens an arm around his bruised ribs, yanking his T-shirt up until I can see the skin of his left shoulder.
The shadow of the tattoo I saw through his white shirt last night.
It’s part ankh.
Part shepherd’s crook.
No.
It’s true.
The whole time.
My stomach clenches and I want to double over and clutch it and it’s all I can do to stay upright. A crash of lightning chooses this moment to split open the sky and I gasp at the sudden light.
Everyone is motionless. One, two, three, four. Then a deafening rumble of thunder envelops the space around us, filling everyone’s ears. Only when the silence returns does the chaos begin to move again.
The man behind Benson lets him go, but a foot to his back knocks the boy I was sure I loved to his knees. He looks up at me, his injuries suddenly making more sense. A message, Sammi had said a few minutes earlier. I only wish I know who it was for. She’d know now. If she was alive.
More than raining; it’s suddenly pouring. But it has no effect on the roaring flames.
Benson’s hand tightens on mine and he drags me along.
My heart freezes when I see them.
Their bodies are half charred and I wouldn’t even recognize Mark if I couldn’t tell it was Sammi cradled protectively in his blackened arms. He threw his body over hers, but a frail human shield wasn’t enough. The explosion must have seared up her left side, killing her instantly but leaving her right side eerily preserved. Her eyelids are mercifully closed but blistering red even as I tear my eyes away and feel the urge to retch rise in my throat.
Elizabeth leads the way, skirting the flames while Benson and I follow her.
She’s almost at the edge of the clearing when something catches her foot and she stumbles toward the burning car. She screams as she falls against the blistering hot metal, and the sound is almost swallowed up by the raging fire.
And then, instantly, the flames are gone.
Gone.
The destruction remains, but the orange fire has disappeared. Almost as if magicked out of existence.
Out of existence.
Of course. I remember now. Equals and opposites. There are Creators like me.
And there are Destroyers. The term Sammi used. I didn’t question it at the time because I knew intrinsically that it was right.
There’s another Earthbound here.
Benson pulls me away, yanking me toward the edge of the clearing. “We have to go now!”
Even as we turn, I hear another sound—this one so completely dissonant that I think I would have heard it over a hurricane.
A chuckle.
A long shadow approaches, but the twilight air is too murky to make out a face until she raises her head.
“Marie?” I whisper, completely baffled. Her hair is pulled sharply back from her face instead of falling in its usual soft waves, and her sleek pantsuit and large silver pendant are worlds away from the dresses and cardigans from the library. She’s tall and stands straight, with a regal air that speaks of both power and pride. Even with rivulets of rain coursing down her face, she looks like a goddess.
Benson’s arm tightens, pulling me against him so hard I can barely breathe. “Run,” he orders, then pushes me away.
I force my legs to move, bursting with sudden speed, but before I’ve gone three feet a thick forearm snakes out and catches me across the throat, and suddenly hands are grasping at my waist, my legs, pulling me away from Benson. The icy barrel of a gun presses against my temple and I still as I hear the words, “One more move and you’re dead. Forever.”
I force myself to be still, but my eyes search for Benson, who’s fighting against his captors. “Stop! No! Leave her alone. I told you—” His words cut off with a sharp crack and I can’t stifle a cry as Benson’s head snaps to one side with the force of a blow to his temple.
I glance around at the dozen or so faces. I don’t see Sunglasses Guy, but without his distinguishing shades—not to mention the shadows of the tree branches crisscrossing all of the faces—he could be any of them.
“Ben, it’s okay,” I chance saying, though I don’t move a muscle. “I’m all right.”
“Aw, isn’t that cute,” Marie says in a tone so unlike her quiet librarian voice that I freeze. “He got the Earthbound to crush on him. That was over and above even for a Reduciate, Benson.”
“It’s not like that,” Benson says, still struggling toward me. Blood trickling down his cheek, mingling with the pouring rain, making red streaks like macabre tears. “Let me go!”
“All in good time,” Marie replies—the embodiment of calm—eyeing me as the world seems to spin, everything turning upside down. “You know, when that hotel room was empty this morning, I was pretty sure you had run away on us, but I see you took your little lesson to heart,” she says, brushing the purple bruise under Benson’s eye. He flinches away from her touch.
Time flows around me in slow motion as I turn my head. “Benson?” Did I even say it out loud?
His face is a mask of desperation. “Tavia. I didn’t mean to. I thought—you have no idea.”
“You did this?” I whisper. I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. “No!” I yell the word at Marie. “You’re lying!”
“Am I?” the woman says, so quietly I barely catch her words. “Show her his mark.”
The man holding Benson spins him roughly around and Benson groans as the man tightens an arm around his bruised ribs, yanking his T-shirt up until I can see the skin of his left shoulder.
The shadow of the tattoo I saw through his white shirt last night.
It’s part ankh.
Part shepherd’s crook.
No.
It’s true.
The whole time.
My stomach clenches and I want to double over and clutch it and it’s all I can do to stay upright. A crash of lightning chooses this moment to split open the sky and I gasp at the sudden light.
Everyone is motionless. One, two, three, four. Then a deafening rumble of thunder envelops the space around us, filling everyone’s ears. Only when the silence returns does the chaos begin to move again.
The man behind Benson lets him go, but a foot to his back knocks the boy I was sure I loved to his knees. He looks up at me, his injuries suddenly making more sense. A message, Sammi had said a few minutes earlier. I only wish I know who it was for. She’d know now. If she was alive.
