Rising (39 page)

Before I’d even turned off the engine, I felt
them.
 
An overwhelming sense of negative energy
permeated the air.

“They’re here,” I said to Jeremy.

“Stay put,” I heard him tell Hunter.

I ran straight around to the back of the house
where I sensed that gloomy presence.
 
The
first thing I saw when I rounded the corner was a ghastly ash-eater sucking up
the bottom half of a burnt female figure.
 
My heart lurched, thinking it was Clara, but then I saw her, kneeling
before a hulking reaper that had its sharp fingers dangerously close to her
face.
 
An overpowering surge of anger
welled in my chest then poured out in violent bursts.
 
I was running toward them, not giving a damn
whether Jeremy was close behind me to shatter the reaper’s energy field.
 
Shield or not, I was going to break this beast
in half.
 
The reaper slashed at Clara’s
face, sending her sprawling to the ground.
 

“Clara!”

I was within ten feet of it by the time it
turned in my direction.
 
This creature
had no idea what it had just done.
 
My
power surged out of me in a fountain of furious energy, showering forward onto
the massive reaper.
 
While its protective
shield was transparent, I could see web-like cracks appearing, like a capsule
of broken glass wrapped entirely around its body.
 
I wasn’t thinking anymore, only reacting to
this drive inside of me.
 
I sprinted
headlong, twisting sideways and leaping into the air to do a scissor kick as
I’d done a thousand times before to shoot the ball into the goal.
 
My leg landed dead center of the reaper’s
chest, knocking it away from Clara.
 
I
heard an electric crackle then shattering sound.
 
Its protective shield disintegrated.
 
Glancing sideways, Jeremy had found a pair of
huge pruning shears and was swinging it in wide arcs above his head.
 
He channeled his resonating voice through the
metal, screaming like a madman and lunging out at the three shadow scouts that
circled around him.
 
I heard one hiss and
shriek as he sliced through its shield and arm.
 
My eyes were back on the reaper whose demon glare scoured me with intense
hatred.
 
I had no fear at all.
 
Somehow, I knew my power was greater than
his.
 
No matter how fierce it looked
swinging out its sword-like arms in the air above me, I was going to kill this
vile creature that dared to even touch Clara.
 
It sliced its blade toward my head, but I ducked and dodged in a
semi-circle motion.
 
It came again,
swifter and lower.
 
I dodged again, but
its sharpened tip nicked the back of my neck.
 
It just barely pierced through my shirt to the skin, but it sent a
stinging shock through my body, like liquid pain streaming into my blood.
 
The jolt knocked me to the ground.
 
I crouched on all fours, needing to
refocus.
 
I felt the reaper’s nauseating
presence, like an acrid stench, bounding toward me.
 
Jerking swiftly to my feet, I pooled a raging
ball of energy then launched it at the beast.
 
Its demon eyes went wide, sensing my fatal power the instant before it
obliterated it into dust from shoulders to skull.
 
I aimed just a little too high.
 
Its lower half slid into a lifeless clump on
the ground.
 

I turned just in time to see Jeremy, still
using his sound-embedded scissors, slashing out at the last remaining shadow
scout.
 
It had a gash across its scaly,
black forehead.
 
As I sprinted toward
them, it spun and fled, disappearing into the twilight.
 
Jeremy dropped the shears and leaned over,
panting.
 
I noticed what was left of the
other two scouts.
 
Their bodies lay
sprawled on the ground.
 
One was nearly
severed in half; the other had a deep slice across the chest.
 
Their bodies were fractured from top to
bottom, like the skin had literally cracked into pieces, leaking out that black
ooze that one of the reapers had spat at Ben.
 
It seemed harmless now, soaking into the ground, dying along with its
hosts.
 

I knelt next to Clara and felt for a pulse in
her neck.
 
Yes.
 
She was alive.
 
I knew that even a small nick from that
reaper’s blade carried intense pain from the sting I felt coursing from my
neck.
 
I couldn’t imagine the level of
pain a full claw across the face could carry.
 

“Clara,” I whispered, turning her head gently
toward me, sweeping her hair back.
 

No response.
 
The angry wound across her cheek burned brightly against her pallid
skin.
 
We had to get to Melanie.
 
I lifted her in my arms and carried her to
the Jeep.
 
Jeremy waited and guarded Mr.
Dunaway.
 
When I returned for Mr.
Dunaway, I found Jeremy studying the dead scouts.

“What exactly did you do?” I asked him.

“I’m not sure,” he said thoughtfully, “I
remembered that my power carried in that garbage can back at Jessie’s when I
threw it at the reaper, so I thought I could do the same with those.”

He pointed at the garden shears that had become
his killing weapon.

“I didn’t know you could kill them with your
power,” I said, excited at this new revelation.

“I don’t think I can with just my power,” he
said.
 
“Not like you.
 
I had to go at them over and over, pushing my
power through the shears.
 
Once I’d
broken their shields, it seemed like I was literally breaking them each time I
cut through their skin.
 
It just took a
lot out of me.”

He appeared aggravated and somewhat confused,
gazing down at the lifeless creatures.

“Don’t worry.
 
This is a good thing,” I assured him.
 
“Homer will be glad to hear about it and I’m sure he’ll have some sort
of advice.
 
For now, we need to get the
hell out of here.
 
Let’s get Mr. Dunaway
in the Durango and see if we can find the keys then you take the Durango and
follow me.”

 
Luckily,
Clara had left the keys in the ignition.
 
We did a quick sweep for supplies, since I knew Pop’s cabin had next to
nothing in the cupboards.
 
I found
Clara’s terrified cat cowering under the kitchen table.
 
It didn’t take much coaxing to get her to
come to me.
 
Within ten minutes, we were
on the road again.
 
Night had finally
wrapped itself around us, a smothering cloak to hide us from our enemies and
our enemies from us.

***

The headlights beamed into the darkness.
 
The woods surrounding Pop’s camp had never
felt so ominous, pressing in on us as we drove deeper into them.
 
I was half expecting an ambush of reapers to
attack from all sides.
 
Jeremy followed
only a few feet from my bumper, which was actually comforting rather than
annoying.
 
Ben had woken up on the ride
over, but still seemed groggy.
 
I had
explained briefly what had happened.
 

“So, Clara’s mom?
 
She got—”

“Not now, Ben,” I said, pointing to Hunter in
the backseat who was stroking Misty curled up in his lap.

Ben nodded.
 
Only the sound of crickets greeted us as we rolled to a stop.
 
There were two cars parked close to the
brush.
 
I recognized the Ford Taurus as
the one that was parked in Melanie’s driveway.
 
The other was Zack’s dad’s Chevy pick-up.

“I guess you’d gotten through to Zack earlier?”
I asked Ben, having long forgotten that I told him to call earlier today.
 
That seemed like ages ago.

“Yeah,” said Ben.
 
“I wasn’t sure if he’d come the way he
sounded on the phone.”

“I’m glad he did,” I said, stepping out of the Jeep
and walking to the other side.

“Here, Hunter.
 
Take this flashlight and shine it ahead of us right along that trail,”
said Jeremy, pulling a flashlight from a backpack we’d found at the Dunaway’s.

The little boy stayed close, lighting our way
with one hand, carrying Misty with the other.
 
I lifted Clara from the Jeep to follow.
 
Jeremy and Ben were pulling Mr. Dunaway from the Durango, and not very
gently.
 

“You sure you can handle this?” Jeremy was
asking Ben.

“Yeah, man, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like
that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that,” whined Ben, “like I might faint or
something.”

“You did faint, Sunflower.
 
Fell just like a stone.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey,” I interrupted, “why don’t you both shut
it up and get moving.”

“Well, you get the feet then,” said Jeremy,
“just in case.”

I didn’t have to look back to know Ben had a
nasty look on his face.
 
Melanie was
waiting on the small deck of the cabin, looking out and holding up a kerosene
lamp as if she knew exactly when we were coming.

“Finally,” she said anxiously, “I was expecting
you almost an hour ago.”

“We got a little side-tracked,” said Jeremy,
moving backwards up the steps, carrying the upper end of Mr. Dunaway.

“Yes, I know,” said Melanie, “but you still
took a long time in getting here.”

“We needed supplies,” said Jeremy, “wait, how
did you know—”

“Homer told me,” she said frankly.

“What?
 
He’s here?” I asked eagerly.

“No,” she said, holding the door open for us,
“he told me another way.”

Gram was at the door, ushering young Hunter
near the fire.
 
While it wasn’t exactly
cold outside, there was certainly a chill in the air.
 
The glow of firelight flickered warmly, a
stark contrast to the bleakness surrounding us.
 
I quickly noticed Zack staring wide-eyed into the fire, not bothering to
see who was coming in.
 
He was holding
his little brother, Noah, in his lap, who was doing the same.
 
While Zack’s gaze never left the fire, Noah
watched Hunter curl up on the rug with Misty.

“In here, sweetheart.
 
Don’t knock his head.”

Gram led Jeremy and Ben with Mr. Dunaway to the
first bedroom off the main area that was the living room, dining room, and
kitchen altogether.
 
I followed Melanie
with Clara to the other.

“What did he tell you?” I asked Melanie who had
already prepared a bed for her.
 

Melanie set her kerosene lantern on the bedside
table then folded back a clean quilt that I didn’t recognize as being one of my
grandfather’s from the old cedar chest.
 
She must’ve brought this from home.
 
I placed Clara gently in the bed.
 
Melanie already had a basin of water and some kind of pungent herbal
ointment at the bedside.
 

“How did you know?
 
Did Homer tell you everything?
 
Did he see everything that happened?”

“I don’t know if he saw everything.
 
He only told me that Ben, Clara, and her
father had been hurt, and that Clara had the worst injury.”

She dipped a soft cloth in the water and gently
cleaned the wound on Clara’s face.
 
After
patting it dry, Melanie ran her index finger along the length of the cut.
 
I watched her, motionless and filled with
anxiety.
 

“The cut didn’t bleed.
 
Why is that?” I asked.

“I’m assuming one of those reapers did this to
her?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“It’s like the blade was hot when it cut her,
almost cauterizing the wound.”

I heard a soft grunting noise and at first
thought it was Clara, finally waking, but it was Melanie.

“What is it?”

She sighed.

“There is something dark poured into this
wound.
 
It’s not just a cut, or burn,
actually.”

“Can you heal her?
 
Do you know how to use your power yet?”

Melanie darted her eyes at me as if I’d lost my
mind.