Children of the Earth (18 page)

22

SNOW
SEEPED THROUGH DAPHN
E’S JACKET,
chilling her until she felt heavy and immobile, as impermanent as the drifts that had cradled her fall. Fire from her visions mingled with the day’s bright sunlight, orange and red and hot and cold and real and imagined. The world was all flames and sunshine, there were beasts and demons, the screams were both outside and inside her head.

A demon approached, scaly hands reaching for her, yellowed eyes burning. It opened its mouth to speak, to spew flames and lava down on her, and she shrank back, whimpering.

“Lady, you okay?” the demon asked. Its face swam before her, refusing to come into focus: She saw towering horns and scaly limbs rubbed gray by centuries of passing time.

She scurried backward, shielding her eyes from the sun, trying and failing to find traction in the snowdrift. Without the glare the horns turned to a Stetson hat, the scales to a case of dry skin. Was he a demon or a man in a hat? Fever burned at her, blurring the lines until she couldn’t tell which was which.

“Just want to make sure you’re okay.” The demon (or was it a man in a hat?) squatted next to her. “Ain’t exactly normal to come out of a bar and find a girl just lying in the snow.”

A bar. A
girl. The snow.
Daphne looked past his wide hat to the glowing red sign that towered above him.
The
Vein
.

The morning rushed back at her: the sheriff’s corpse strung up outside the police station, Owen’s strange behavior when she confronted him, Luna interrupting and filling Daphne’s head with that otherworldly blue light, trying to bend her will.

“You faint or something?”

She remembered the vision then. It flooded her head, filling it with fire and chasms and that shadowy black figure falling into an endless void, its screams echoing off the walls. She clutched her forehead, trying to fight the searing pain there, a sudden and brutal headache.

“Miss.” The man grasped her shoulder. “I’m gonna take you to the hospital.”

Daphne rubbed her temples, willing the headache to subside. Instead it spread through her limbs, making her shudder against the pain. “No hospital,” she said through gritted teeth. She didn’t want to deal with doctors, with machines, with Pastor Ted showing up at her bedside to pick at her last vision before she could think it through. All she wanted was a glass of water and her bed. “I’ll drive home.”

She started to push herself to standing, but a wave of dizziness rolled over her, and she pitched forward, her cheek landing painfully on the snowdrift’s icy crust.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The demon morphed into a man again, a man with concerned, heavy-lidded eyes. “I may’ve had two beers, but you’re too sick to even walk. Tell me your address, and I’ll drive you.”

Ordinarily she would have known better than to accept a ride with a strange man. Ordinarily she would have crawled all the way home through the snow before giving in.

But the pain flooded through her, and images from her vision still pulsed in her mind. She was sick, she realized—definitely feverish, possibly delirious. “Okay,” she said weakly. “But I carry pepper spray, just so you know.”

He reached out a weatherworn hand and helped her to her feet. “You won’t have to use it on me. Scout’s honor.”

The world rolled at her in waves as she stumbled, half-supported by the stranger, to his truck. She gasped out her address and collapsed in the passenger seat, scenes from her vision descending over her eyes like a stage curtain. Over and over again, a chasm opened in the earth—the same chasm she’d seen in her second vision, the one separating her from the Children of God.

Over and over, the ground opened up to release a pillar of flames, and just when it seemed like too much to bear, like the world was about to end in a rain of fire, she turned to see that dark figure falling, his screams echoing off the walls, being sucked down to a place that, the voice in her head had been clear, was worse than a thousand hells.

Where was that place, and who was the falling figure? She was dimly aware of the truck’s wheels bouncing over Carbon County’s back roads, the familiar scenery mingling with scraps from her vision as her eyes slit open and closed again, the lemony sunlight seeping through the clouds outside stabbing tiny daggers into her head.

“We’re here.” The man’s gruff voice broke through her fever dreams, and she realized the car had come to a stop in front of the Peytons’ trailer. “Told you you wouldn’t have to use that pepper spray.”

“Thanks.” She fumbled for the door handle, but he was already there, opening it from the outside, helping her out. “Who are you, anyway?”

He held her elbow as they made their way slowly to the door. “Not much of anyone, really. Just another sucker drifting through Carbon County, hoping to hit oil and strike it rich.”

Daphne’s mouth fell open. So he was one of the drifters: those unsavory characters everyone in Carbon County was hardwired to hate.

“Do you live up at the old motocross track?” she asked.

He gave a single, doleful chuckle. “Don’t know if ‘live’ is the right word for it, but yeah. That’s where I stay.”

They were at the door, and before Daphne could fumble for her keys, Aunt Karen opened it, took one look at Daphne, gasped, and collected her in her arms. Another wave of dizziness broke over Daphne, and she let her aunt lead her to the couch and tuck her under a warm blanket. She lay there gratefully drifting in and out of consciousness as her aunt clucked around her with hot tea and cool compresses and promises of chicken soup. It was only when she heard his truck pull away that Daphne realized she had never thanked the drifter who had helped her home. She had never even learned his name.

• • •

The fever broke at dawn, but Daphne felt like she had broken with it. Still too weak to leave the couch, she let the afternoon sunlight slide over her face, pulling the afghan up to her chin and sinking deeper into the pillow, knowing but not caring that the plush corduroy would leave tracks across her cheek.

Did anything matter anymore? Owen was gone from her, different, holed up with Luna, and everything in the tablet was coming true. The Children of the Earth had arrived in Carbon County, and they had powers—powers that, if used properly, could bring Carbon County to its knees.

And what did Daphne have? Cryptic visions that turned opaque when examined too closely, visions that she felt—but did not know and could not prove—came from God.

In those visions Owen was a demon, drawing fire down from the mountains. The earth rumbled and divided, the Children of God on one side and the Children of the Earth on the other. There was a battle, with weapons, but she was on the wrong side. Why?

She shivered beneath the afghan. She couldn’t shake the image of the figure falling, endlessly, into the chasm, couldn’t ignore the sense of loss she felt whenever that image played over in her mind. She pulled the afghan over her head and closed her eyes, letting the hot, close darkness pull her back down into sleep . . .

• • •

She woke from a fitful slumber at the sound of voices coming from the kitchen, low and thick with worry. Daphne shrugged off the last slivers of sleep and peered over the back of the couch. Floyd and Karen were huddled at the kitchen table, their faces worn and creased with concern. Opposite them was a wide, slumped back in a green fleece jacket.

A sour feeling rose in Daphne’s stomach. She’d know the creased and reddened skin of that thick neck anywhere. Doug was in the trailer, and whatever he was telling the Peytons wasn’t good.

“. . . just can’t find her anywhere.” He spread his hands on the table. “I thought she was here, but when I called, you guys said you hadn’t seen her, and then I got worried. I’ve been calling and texting her nonstop . . . nothing. I called Pastor Ted and Hilary and all our old buddies from high school. I even called the police. Nobody’s heard a word.”

“Find who?” Daphne climbed off the couch, tossing her fatigue aside with the afghan.

Doug looked up at her, surprised, and she recoiled at the sight of his face. His skin was rumpled and gray, his chin dotted with stubble too thick to be a five-o’clock shadow. His hair was greasy and uncombed, his clothes slack with the worn-in look of having been slept in. Or stayed-up-all-night in, given the broken blood vessels spreading across his eyes.

She expected Doug to bristle the way he always did when she was around. She knew she represented rejection for him, and Doug had never handled that like a man. Instead, he sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Janie.” The word came out like a sob.

“Janie’s missing.” There was a sigh in Uncle Floyd’s pale blue eyes as he looked up at Daphne, filling in the blanks. “We’ve been working with Doug to figure out where she might have gone, but right now—well, it’s not looking so good.”

“Oh, God.” Daphne gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady herself.

“I know.” Floyd’s voice was grave. “It’s disturbing, what with the sheriff and everything. We’re trying to make the best of it, but we’re all pretty scared.”

“No.” Daphne screwed her eyes shut to keep the world from spinning out of control. Her worst nightmares were coming true. Janie was gone, probably sucked into the vortex of the Children of the Earth. And it was all Daphne’s fault. If she’d spoken up as soon as she learned that more of the predictions in the tablet were coming true, if she’d told her aunt and uncle about seeing Janie with Ciaran, then her cousin might be safe at home that very minute. She had to come clean with them now, before the Children of the Earth did to Janie what she now suspected they’d done to the sheriff. She didn’t have any time to lose.

“I have to tell you all something,” she said, taking a seat across the table from Doug. “Something about where Janie might be. And, to be honest, it’s something I probably should have told you as soon as I knew.”

Doug leaned toward her, hope burning in his eyes. “All I want is to get her home safe.”

“I know.” It was hard to believe that she and Doug finally agreed on something, but the pain in his eyes was too real for even a first-rate bullshit artist like Doug to fake. He was as worried as Daphne was—and somehow, underneath it all, it was obvious how much he loved his wife.

Daphne took a deep breath. “I think Janie’s with a guy named Ciaran who works up at the Vein,” she said shakily.

“That place?” Doug’s face reddened. “Why’d you think that?”

“Because.” She forced herself to look into his bloodshot, watery eyes. “I saw them kissing the other night. I’m sorry, Doug. I should have said something sooner.”

“Oh.” She watched him deflate in front of her, sinking low in his seat until his forehead hit the table with a soft bump. His shoulders started shaking, and wet huffing noises leaked out. “I guess I deserve it,” he snuffled. “I wasn’t good to her. I ignored her and used her. She was just so sad, and I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do.” He collapsed into another crying jag.

“We have to hurry,” Daphne said, hoping it wasn’t already too late. “We have to find her and get her away from the Children of the Earth. They’re dangerous.”

“The Children of the Earth?” Floyd jerked upright. “Like in the tablet?”

“Yes.” Daphne looked down at her hands, realizing that she’d been twisting her fingers in her lap until they were the color of bone. “That’s the other thing you need to know. The Children of the Earth are here—all of them. They’re the ones who run the Vein.”

“Oh, Daphne.” Aunt Karen’s eyes were pink-rimmed with dismay. “How long have you known?”

“Too long. I should have told you as soon as I found out, but I wanted to make sure they were really as dangerous as I thought. Now I’m worried it may be too late.” Daphne’s voice cracked. Betraying the Peytons’ trust was the last thing she wanted, and disappointing them hurt more than she could bear. But she’d brought it upon herself, evading the truth like it was on fire. Now she had to face the consequences.

“There’s another reason I didn’t tell you.” The words hurt her throat. “Owen’s one of them, and I didn’t want anyone to hurt him because . . . well, because I love him. I thought he was on my side then. I know better now.”

She looked from her aunt to her uncle, but it was like a gate had fallen between them. She knew better than to count on them for comfort after keeping them in the dark for so long.

“I’m disappointed in you, Daphne.” Her uncle’s voice thrummed with regret. “I would hope that, after everything, you’d at least be able to confide in us.”

Daphne shook her head. “I just didn’t know what to do. I know I’m supposed to be the prophet. I’m supposed to lead everyone in this battle. But I barely know what to do myself.”

Floyd placed a large, rough hand over hers. “We never expected you to have all the answers. We know you’re still human, prophet or not. But it troubles me that, after everything, you still felt like you couldn’t trust us. We’re here to help you, even when you don’t know what to do. That’s what being a family is all about.”

His words touched the tenderest places in her heart. She didn’t know what to say, only that she’d been alone so long, so used to making decisions on her own, that it had barely occurred to her to talk to someone else about her problems. She was used to not having anyone to turn to for answers; she’d grown accustomed to trying to solve everything by herself.

“Oh, Floyd, maybe we were all too hard on her.” Aunt Karen reached across the table and placed a soft hand on Daphne’s. “We thought that just because she could talk to God, she’d turn into a leader overnight. We forgot that she’s still barely more than a child.”

“No.” Daphne forced herself to look them in the eye, one after the other. “Uncle Floyd is right. I shouldn’t have kept this a secret. I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Guys, there isn’t time for this!” Doug sat up suddenly, the skin around his eyes raw and puffy, his hair standing up at all angles. “We have to go find Janie. If she’s with Luna and all them, that’s no joke. I know what that girl can do—she can get inside people’s minds. It’s some scary shit. And if she does it to Janie . . .” He trailed off, shoulders trembling.