Spark
Page 30
A woman, her face tear streaked through lines of soot, her clothes damp and filthy. She wasn’t a fireman or an EMT.
But she was hugging him, her arms around his neck before he knew what she was doing, her slim hands full of a surprising amount of strength.
“Thank you,” she sobbed into his jacket. “Oh my god, they said they couldn’t get to her Thank you. ”
He didn’t know how to respond.
But then the girl was coughing, then crying, then huge rack-ing sobs and cries for her mommy.
The woman let him go.
Gabriel stepped out of the crowd and walked off into the night.
CHAPTER 12
Hunter was waiting in the woods. Far back, but still within sight of the house. When Gabriel caught up, Hunter didn’t say anything, just turned and fell into step beside him.
Thank god, because Gabriel didn’t know what to say, either.
He yanked the fireman’s helmet off his head, dragging a hand through his damp hair. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, and only part of it was from the smoke and the exertion.
A pair of headlights cut through the woods, catching the reflective stripes on the coat. Gabriel swore and shrugged out of it, rolling it up inside out to carry under his arm.
But the headlights continued on. No one saw them.
“I can stash those in the jeep,” said Hunter.
His voice sounded raw. Gabriel stopped at the tree line and looked at him, holding out the helmet and then the coat. Hunter had soot across one cheek, and his hair was every bit as damp as Gabriel’s.
He took the stuff, but then he didn’t move.
Gabriel wondered if he also looked this . . . stricken. What was the right thing to say? Thanks? That was terrible? That was awesome? They’d just pulled a girl out of a blazing house.
Could he really just climb in his car and drive home?
Hunter cleared his throat. “So.”
“Yeah.”
Hunter shifted the rolled up coat under one arm, hunching his shoulders. “Want to come over and play Xbox?”
Gabriel stared at him for a minute, wondering if he was serious.
Then he realized he didn’t care.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
Hunter lived in an old farmhouse set back from the road, practically in the middle of nowhere. The windows were dark when they pulled up, and stayed that way despite two sets of tires crunching along the gravel driveway. Only an old gas lamp at the end of the front walk threw any light into the yard, revealing a split-board fence stretching back into the darkness.
A dog burst through the doorway when Hunter turned the key, the large German shepherd practically knocking his master down.
Hunter laughed softly and rubbed his dog behind the ears.
“Casper’s pissed I left him home.”
Gabriel picked up on his hushed tone. It seemed early, but the dark house spoke volumes. “Your mom asleep?”
Hunter lost the smile. “Probably.” He gave the dog one last scratch along his neck, then sent Casper out into the yard. “My grandparents definitely are. Come on.”
Gabriel scrubbed his hands and face in the kitchen sink, grateful for the coat and helmet that had kept him a lot cleaner than the last time he’d ventured into a fire. His jeans were sooty from the knees down, but they’d wash. He smacked his shoes against the porch to get out the worst of the soot, then followed Hunter.
The gaming system was in the basement, hooked up to a newish flat screen that looked completely out of place among the wood-paneled walls, the mustard-yellow carpet, and wooden mallards accenting the end tables. Even the sofa was plaid, a red and orange number that had seen better days.
But Hunter’s bedroom was down here, too, and from what Gabriel could see, it was huge.
“Do you really have a refrigerator and a microwave in your room?” he said, peering through the doorway.
Hunter was sliding a disk into the Xbox. “It wasn’t always my bedroom. But yeah.” He glanced up. “My grandparents only come down here to do laundry. It’s like having my own apartment.”
No mention of his mother, making Gabriel wonder about Hunter’s tone in the driveway, when he’d said probably. Even now, he wasn’t bragging. He sounded self-deprecating.
Then he said, “Grab a soda if you want.”
Gabriel did.
And then they were killing pixelated zombies.
It was surreal, sitting here doing something completely mun-dane, when they’d been pulling a body out of a burning house an hour ago.
Especially since Hunter had put a gun in his face last week.
When the game changed landscapes, Gabriel watched him, thinking of the moment in the hallway when Hunter had broken Nick’s hold. “Just how much control do you have?”
A shrug. “Not enough. I couldn’t have gone into that fire alone.”
Gabriel untied the translucent white stone from his wrist and set it on the coffee table. He suspected he wouldn’t have been as effective alone, either. Their powers had a way of improving when combined. “Thanks,” he said. “For dragging me out.”
“Sure.”
“And thanks for . . . whatever you did back at the house.”
Hunter shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything. I just had to block his focus.” He took the stone, twisting the twine between his fingers while they waited for the game to load.
It made Gabriel think of Becca, who used to wear Hunter’s rocks strung along her wrist. “You’re not screwing with my little brother, are you?”
But she was hugging him, her arms around his neck before he knew what she was doing, her slim hands full of a surprising amount of strength.
“Thank you,” she sobbed into his jacket. “Oh my god, they said they couldn’t get to her Thank you. ”
He didn’t know how to respond.
But then the girl was coughing, then crying, then huge rack-ing sobs and cries for her mommy.
The woman let him go.
Gabriel stepped out of the crowd and walked off into the night.
CHAPTER 12
Hunter was waiting in the woods. Far back, but still within sight of the house. When Gabriel caught up, Hunter didn’t say anything, just turned and fell into step beside him.
Thank god, because Gabriel didn’t know what to say, either.
He yanked the fireman’s helmet off his head, dragging a hand through his damp hair. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, and only part of it was from the smoke and the exertion.
A pair of headlights cut through the woods, catching the reflective stripes on the coat. Gabriel swore and shrugged out of it, rolling it up inside out to carry under his arm.
But the headlights continued on. No one saw them.
“I can stash those in the jeep,” said Hunter.
His voice sounded raw. Gabriel stopped at the tree line and looked at him, holding out the helmet and then the coat. Hunter had soot across one cheek, and his hair was every bit as damp as Gabriel’s.
He took the stuff, but then he didn’t move.
Gabriel wondered if he also looked this . . . stricken. What was the right thing to say? Thanks? That was terrible? That was awesome? They’d just pulled a girl out of a blazing house.
Could he really just climb in his car and drive home?
Hunter cleared his throat. “So.”
“Yeah.”
Hunter shifted the rolled up coat under one arm, hunching his shoulders. “Want to come over and play Xbox?”
Gabriel stared at him for a minute, wondering if he was serious.
Then he realized he didn’t care.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
Hunter lived in an old farmhouse set back from the road, practically in the middle of nowhere. The windows were dark when they pulled up, and stayed that way despite two sets of tires crunching along the gravel driveway. Only an old gas lamp at the end of the front walk threw any light into the yard, revealing a split-board fence stretching back into the darkness.
A dog burst through the doorway when Hunter turned the key, the large German shepherd practically knocking his master down.
Hunter laughed softly and rubbed his dog behind the ears.
“Casper’s pissed I left him home.”
Gabriel picked up on his hushed tone. It seemed early, but the dark house spoke volumes. “Your mom asleep?”
Hunter lost the smile. “Probably.” He gave the dog one last scratch along his neck, then sent Casper out into the yard. “My grandparents definitely are. Come on.”
Gabriel scrubbed his hands and face in the kitchen sink, grateful for the coat and helmet that had kept him a lot cleaner than the last time he’d ventured into a fire. His jeans were sooty from the knees down, but they’d wash. He smacked his shoes against the porch to get out the worst of the soot, then followed Hunter.
The gaming system was in the basement, hooked up to a newish flat screen that looked completely out of place among the wood-paneled walls, the mustard-yellow carpet, and wooden mallards accenting the end tables. Even the sofa was plaid, a red and orange number that had seen better days.
But Hunter’s bedroom was down here, too, and from what Gabriel could see, it was huge.
“Do you really have a refrigerator and a microwave in your room?” he said, peering through the doorway.
Hunter was sliding a disk into the Xbox. “It wasn’t always my bedroom. But yeah.” He glanced up. “My grandparents only come down here to do laundry. It’s like having my own apartment.”
No mention of his mother, making Gabriel wonder about Hunter’s tone in the driveway, when he’d said probably. Even now, he wasn’t bragging. He sounded self-deprecating.
Then he said, “Grab a soda if you want.”
Gabriel did.
And then they were killing pixelated zombies.
It was surreal, sitting here doing something completely mun-dane, when they’d been pulling a body out of a burning house an hour ago.
Especially since Hunter had put a gun in his face last week.
When the game changed landscapes, Gabriel watched him, thinking of the moment in the hallway when Hunter had broken Nick’s hold. “Just how much control do you have?”
A shrug. “Not enough. I couldn’t have gone into that fire alone.”
Gabriel untied the translucent white stone from his wrist and set it on the coffee table. He suspected he wouldn’t have been as effective alone, either. Their powers had a way of improving when combined. “Thanks,” he said. “For dragging me out.”
“Sure.”
“And thanks for . . . whatever you did back at the house.”
Hunter shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything. I just had to block his focus.” He took the stone, twisting the twine between his fingers while they waited for the game to load.
It made Gabriel think of Becca, who used to wear Hunter’s rocks strung along her wrist. “You’re not screwing with my little brother, are you?”
