Lost and Found (24 page)

"Hi," I said as I entered the room.

"Oh, Riley, are you ready, can we
go
now?"

"I'm ready," I said to Mariah.

Drake lifted his eyebrows at her as she struggled with the pack zipper. "Here, let
me help. Why don't you go get some shoes on, okay?" I asked.

"Shoes, oh, I don't have any." Her smile was plastered to her face like it was stenciled
on.

"There's some shoes by the door for you, but if they don't fit well, we can stop somewhere
along the way and pick up a new pair. Okay?"

She bounded out of the room with a nod, the cuffs of my jeans skimming the ground
even though they were folded up her legs. From behind, she looked like a malnourished
thirteen-year-old boy.

"Better keep an eye on that one,"
Drake said over my shoulder before following her into the living room.

With a sigh, I joined them, my hand fingering the small metal object that rested in
my pocket. Mariah pulled her socks on and then pushed both feet into a pair of canvas
shoes I grabbed while at the mall with Drake. She wiggled her toes inside them and
held a foot up for me to see.

"They're a little big. I'll definitely need another pair, because these are just a
tad too big…
see
?" She wiggled her foot again and I smiled. Mariah was teetering closer to the brink
of insanity than I had
ever
been. It put things in perspective.

For instance, I knew looking at Mariah that I had someone to take care of again and
I couldn't fail her, not a second time. Which meant I had to take her back to the
group. Even though they weren't
her
family, they were the closest thing to a family that
I
had. She would fit in.
Eventually.

"Are you sure you aren't coming back here?" I asked Drake as we walked out the front
door and stopped on the front steps.

"Nothing will bring me this way again," he turned around to look at me, "I told you
I'd see you back, but remember what I said, I'm not staying."

In a mock salute, I brought my bandaged hand up and watched the two of them follow
the walkway to the sidewalk. When they got there, Drake turned around to see me still
standing on the top step.

"What's wrong? Did you forget something?" he asked.

"Yeah. Give me just a second."

But I hadn't forgotten anything. I stepped back inside and walked up the stairs to
the rooms at the back of the house. Inside the one I spent the last month in, I took
a good look around, my eyes settling on the gauzy and expensive curtains. My fingers
found the small metal tin in my pocket and removed it, flipping the top off. After
dragging my thumb down the side twice, I smiled at the small fire that was born.

Touching it to the base of the curtain, I quickly stood back as the flame shot up
to the ceiling, eating away at the fabric hungrily. After repeating the same process
on the other window treatments and the foot of the bed, I closed the door and did
the same thing in each room. Downstairs I set the kitchen curtains and the living
room curtains on fire, then hunted around the couch until I produced the Swarovski
crystal adorned throw pillow. I set that ablaze too and threw it onto the couch where
it swiftly spread to one of the blankets. Pulling the door shut behind me, I joined
the others on the sidewalk and not until we were several houses down the street did
the windows start popping, exploding from the heat.

Drake knew what I did, but he didn't ask why. I thanked him silently for that. But
the house had to burn. For miles, every block we walked, I stopped and went inside
a home or office building and set it on fire. By the time we reached the coast, the
others had joined me and it became a game of sorts. We walked, jogged, stopped to
set fires and then walked and jogged some more. We even raced each other down Pacific
Coast Highway during that first day, the loser getting the heaviest backpack for the
next mile. We set over fifty structures on fire before nightfall.

Part of me knew that the others thought I'd lost my mind and decided to become a pyromaniac
overnight. But it wasn't that. In fact, a huge chunk of me felt guilt for committing
arson, but it had to be done. It was the only way to help those left behind.

Everything in the city had to burn.

Behind us, Orange County lit up the sky. An eerie terracotta glow pulsated from distant
neighborhoods where flames leapt from rooftop to rooftop in a frenzied hunger. The
wall of curling smoke hovering over the horizon just below the fading light of the
blue sky should have been a terrifying sight but it made me feel giddy, almost delirious
with joy. I was sure this was what they needed - all of them. The dead told me so.
The feeling was so right that it tingled through my skin all the way into my bones
leaving behind a dull ache.

Mentally buzzed but exhausted physically, we walked south on Pacific Coast Highway
until the day came to a close. Mariah spent the hours mostly talking to herself and
I spent the time looking for shadows. When I thought I saw something move that wasn't
our reflections off the shop windows or expensive coastal homes, I would start a fire.
That's how the day went as we neared the hills of Laguna Beach. But when night encroached,
I stopped setting things ablaze so we would be safe overnight wherever we chose to
sleep. The wind was in our favor - blowing northeast of us, but I knew that could
change at any moment and send the fire nipping at our heels, which was why we stayed
close to the coast.

"How about over there?"

Drake pointed to an open grass area that wasn't quite big enough to be considered
an actual park. The border was overrun with bushes and palm trees but the furthest
side opened up to a sandy slope. We crossed the ankle-deep grass and stood where it
met the hard-packed sand, just feet away from a steep drop off. Below us, the ocean
churned and bubbled, the high tide slamming repeatedly into the rocky bluff, tossing
sea-spray into the air in an aquatic ballet.

"We can lay some blankets out. It's warm tonight, we don't need a fire," he said,
as we stared down at the midnight-blue water.

"You don't want to sleep inside?" I pointed behind us to the row of million dollar
homes with three stories. "Each of us could have our own floor for the night," I laughed.

"But it's a perfect night. Look, you can even see the stars already." Drake nodded
at the sky.

Mariah bobbed her shaved head at me while tugging at her mangled ear. "Uh-huh, perfect
night. It's a perfect night, I think."

"Okay. Well, let's grab something to eat then." I turned away from the edge, leaving
Mariah standing there in her baggy clothes with her bruised face looking out at the
water.

"Yes. Yes, a
perfect
night," she mumbled.

"What, honey?"

"A perfect night. A perfect night to go," she said to the ocean with a small laugh.
As I looked back over my shoulder to ask what she meant, she took a step closer to
the drop off. I froze.

"Mariah, step back honey, you're too close to the edge." She wasn't just close, she
was teetering over it with several inches of her left foot dangling above at least
thirty feet of open space.

She tilted her head to the side and gave me a lip-splitting grin and then her face
fell, taking on a more somber expression. Her brown eyes were large and round with
concern, "Riley, did I thank you?"

With the booming sound of my blood rushing through my head competing with the crash
of the ocean waves, I almost couldn't hear her. Turning, I took a step toward her,
ignoring Drake's quiet warning behind me.

"Thank me for what, Mariah? You have nothing to thank me for," I said with a cautious
smile.

She shook her head before nodding so vigorously it made me dizzy. "I do, I do. You
found me you came to find me. You saved me, you know. Thanks, Riley. Thanks for
saving
me," she said. The delicate frame of her body shook as she let out an empty laugh.

For a brief moment, the muscles of my shoulders that had hardened into tight knots
relaxed. She wasn't going to jump, she was grateful to be alive still. I could see
it on her face. There was joy there - a little crazed and psychotic, sure, but it
was still elation for life. The salty moisture of the water drifted with the wind
and whipped at my hair and I pushed my loose bangs out of my eyes in irritation.

With an outstretched hand, I said calmly, "Come on, Mariah, let's go."

Her smile was warm enough to melt a hole into my heart.
"Yes. It's time to go,"
she whispered.

And then she leapt.

With her arms out like a bird, she jumped into the air and almost floated on the cool
breeze before falling like a stone. The only sound was my scream as the wind pushed
it back into my face and made me choke on it. Drake's arms firmly wrapped around my
waist and I struggled to get free, to get to the edge of the bluff, to see if she
was okay. After dropping to the ground and crawling across the sand, I dug my nails
into the hard earth as tears poured from my eyes, screaming her name against the assaulting
air current that pushed against me with invisible hands.

Mariah's body was face down, caught in the jagged rocks at the base of the bluff.
Her hands floated at her sides in the white water that was quickly turning pink around
her. As I watched through my tears, with Drake's fingers hooked into the waistband
of my jeans, the waves quickly lifted her limp form and gobbled her up into the surf.
She was gone in seconds. The only sign she had ever been there was a solitary shoe
that floated on the water for a few minutes before it became too waterlogged, sinking
in submission to the ocean floor.

Shaking with pain and anger, I screamed at the waves that devoured Mariah up as if
there was nothing to it, like she was just another piece of debris to be pulled out
to sea by the unyielding currents. My hands pawed furiously at the side of the drop
off like the crumbling ridge was a giant remote and all I had to do was find the rewind
button.

"No! Why?!"
I screamed at the fading day,
"Why'd you do this?"

"Riley," Drake dragged me away from the edge by my kicking legs and pulled me hard
against his chest while speaking soothingly into my ear, "
Sssh. She's gone
. She's been gone, Riley, you have to let her go."

"No!
No!
Why would she do this?
Why?
Connor and Kris. Sunny and Foxy. All those men," I blubbered, "Drake, Jesus - all
those men, they're all gone because of her.
Because of her!
Why would she do this?"

"Don't do that to yourself," he said softly against my ear. But I didn't hear him.
It was all for nothing, just like I had feared. She cost me everything.
Everything.

"Why?!"
I sobbed, the scream catching in my throat.

"You saw her, Riley. She's been gone a long time. Some people-," his voice hitched
and he cleared his throat before continuing, "I think some people can't be saved.
But you gave her freedom. You
did
save her, Riley."

I shook my head against him, hitting his cheek with mine and still he didn't pull
away. My mouth was full of the sandy and salty air and I spit it out with disgust.
Sitting in Drake's lap, I stared at the spot just above my left foot, where the sun
was dipping below the Pacific horizon. It dropped lower every time I blinked, like
a shimmering gold diamond in the sky. Even after it was gone, the sunset stretched
out above our heads like a quilt; warm bubble gum pinks bled into deep ambers that
reminded me of the fire burning in the north. Breathing heavily, I looked up the coast
where we came from, seeing nothing but a black outline of angry smoke above the land.
How ironic.
Not that long ago I imagined throwing
myself
off a cliff like this - my last kiss being w

ith the crashing waves of the ocean and yet here I was still fighting to live.
How fucking ironic
. Drake lifted me off the ground, turned my body away from the sea, and led me through
the deep grass and across the street into a glass-walled house. After settling down
on the couch, I stared at all the windows. Floor to ceiling, the glass was cloudy
from salt and calcium buildup and my last thought of the day was imagining the popping
and cracking sound all that glass would make in the morning as the house exploded
in a giant fireball.

I'll burn it. I'll burn it all to the ground and let the ashes float like snowflakes
into the Ocean where Mariah rested. She said she loved the snow. I'll burn it all…for
her.

***

We stood too close, but even though my eyes stung, my cheeks burned, and my lips were
drying out from the heat, we didn't move. The windows cracked before imploding and
then the glass rained down in front of us in jagged shards from the force of the roiling
fireball inside the home that spit and shrieked in anger. As it leapt outside an upstairs
window, the embers caught on the neighboring roof. In ten minutes seven houses were
burning. Only then did we leave, but not on foot.

As Drake stood with his gloved hands resting on his thighs, straddling the shiny silver
and black Ducati we hauled out of a nearby private garage, I shook my head. If Connor
could only see me, what would he say? Surely, it would be something along the lines
of
'I told you so'
. Drake knocked on the top of my black helmet and I gave him the thumbs-up sign before
climbing on behind him. It was such an intimate way to travel; one person molded into
the back of another. With my inner thighs pinned against his legs and my arms secured
around his fit midsection, taking care not to rub against his sutures, I held on tight
as the tires squealed against the asphalt as we took off.

Drake eased us through the cramped streets with ease, slowing when necessary but for
the most part keeping the speed over twenty miles an hour. When we hit clear patches
of road, he would open the throttle and propel us forward like a bullet. Every hour
we stopped to look for water, fuel and to set a fire, of course. The smell of smoke
followed us, but I ignored the shift in the wind and enjoyed the ride.

A few times, I imagined that Drake was Connor and squeezed his chest, or rested my
chin on his shoulder. But everything about him was different. I didn't want Drake
as a lover - just as a friend. And his words echoed in my head - the declaration that
he wasn't going to stay with us in the mountains. Sure, we had bled together, we had
killed together and slept next to each other, but it was unclear how much of a friend
Drake considered me.

Nearly five hours on the road and we reached Oceanside. Not long after, Drake followed
my directions and went east on the 78. It was the way I came with Connor and Kris,
it was the way I wanted to return. What took us days to travel on horseback was covered
in mere hours on the bike. Except the air was cooler and the scenery was backwards
as we steadily worked our way out east. We didn't dare start a fire in the countryside,
but the lighter in my pocket itched to be used every mile the bike ate up. After stopping
at a corner gas station and chugging down warm bottles of soda, we refueled with the
help of a hose and I rifled through the dusty office, shoving a piece of paper and
a large marker into Drake's backpack.

Our lunch consisted of stale cheese crackers and bruised apples we found that had
fallen off the tree and rolled down the long sloped yard of a nearby residence. When
Drake put his helmet on a peek of his brown hair showed at the base of his neck and
the only way I could tell he was smiling was that the skin around his eyes crinkled
softly.

"What?" I asked, before shoving my helmet on. It was still warm from the long morning
ride. I secured my braid into the back of my jacket, shoving it as far beneath the
collar as my hair would allow.

He shook his head, causing a glint of sunlight to reflect off his visor and temporarily
blind me. "Nothin', I was just thinking," he said with a muffled voice.

"About what?"

"Just. I don't know. This has been a fun ride."

I cocked my head to side and studied him. He was still smiling, his eyes proved that,
but I couldn't figure out what he meant. "You're actually having
fun
?"

"Aren't you?"

Was I? Everything around me was still; no breeze rustled the trees or the weeds that
sprouted out of the split sidewalks, no creatures chirped or chittered, it was as
if nature itself wanted to know if I was indeed having a good time. The windows of
the building stared at me with large, open eyes, waiting for my answer. All the circumstances
of the previous days, weeks and months should have made me miserable but it was true
- the ride
was
fun. The fresh air pelting my neck as the bike charged up the hills was invigorating.
Sort of like a cleanse.

"I shouldn't be," I said guiltily.

Drake's smile must have vanished because the lines around his eyes smoothed out instantly.
With a curt nod, he gestured to the bike and we both straddled the monster. "Let's
get on with it," he yelled over the roar of the engine.

***

With a tap of his shoulder and a hand signal to stop, Drake pulled off the highway
onto the shoulder just before Horizon View Drive. He tugged his helmet off his head
and swiped his sleeve over his sweaty brow. One difference between men and women is
that men could make sweat look sexy. With my hair plastered to my face, I felt grimy
and not in the least appealing, not that it mattered. The sun had passed over us hours
before and long shadows from the manzanita and oak trees stretched out across the
highway.