The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (10 page)

I backed away from him when he came closer. My knees stung. I looked down. My skin was ripped to shreds. I brushed the dirt off my knees carefully and took another step up. My left ankle was sore too. Luckily, after a few steps it felt better, and I could walk without feeling humiliated by a limp. But Lucas followed me anyway. I was mad at myself, that I couldn’t resist looking at his face, which was too beautiful to go unnoticed even now, twisted with emotion.

When Lucas remained silent, pondering, I felt my new anger rising. I wondered things myself. He nearly stumbled into me when I stopped. “Were you following
me?”

His glare, which normally angled down on me, now shot up from the step below. “Of course
not.”

“So if you’re not following me, what were you doing out
here?”

“You’re going to turn this on me?” His smile was attractive; he looked almost proud of my rebuttal, but there was caution there, and awkwardness.

“Yes, I’m curious.”

“About what?” he
asked.

“You.”

His stare went solid, the smile on his face slipped, and then he coughed. “You going to get
that?”

“Get
what?”

Just then my phone buzzed in my pocket. I stared back to Lucas as I reached for it.
How did he . . .
 It was Jett. I huffed and hit silent. I would deal with him
later.

When I glanced back down to Lucas, his jaw had hardened and his blue eyes looked anywhere but at my own. “It isn’t safe to be
alone.”

I laughed because it was just too funny. “You don’t know Tahoe that well then. This is the safest town
ever.”

His eyes flashed to mine so harshly I felt weak. “Go home now and stay inside with your brothers. I prefer for you to be with people in general, but if Jett is whom you choose to run to after you’re done with me, or your lame party, so be
it.”

How did he know I had brothers? Fury exploded within, and the blood started to sizzle in my veins. No boy had ever been so rude to me. And who was he to decide whom I hung out with?
Talk about control issues.
I wondered why his face, for all its demeaning ferocity, also showed the immense sadness I knew I’d
seen.

“Is that what you want?” I asked angrily.

He stepped away, pivoting his body so I couldn’t see his face, though I knew it was nearly exploding with frustration. He clenched his fingers tightly in his hair, then ran them through it until they stopped at his neck. He squeezed hard as he craned his head back. Underneath his madness, he looked . . . exhausted?

He blew out a puff of air. I stared with disbelief at his strange reaction. Then he turned back to me, raising his voice through gritted teeth. “Promise
me.”

The discomfort in his contorted face proved he was interested in me. But why? Why wouldn’t he hang out with me when I asked? And why in heaven’s name did he not like the water? Who doesn’t like the
water?

Everything just felt too weird, and the anger swarmed in with a vengeance, surpassing any fear I
felt.

“Whatever,” I said, taking a few steps up the stairs before turning back to Lucas. “You know what? You don’t get to call all the shots. What if
I
don’t agree with you? I can do what I want. I was here first.
You
leave.”

His authoritative stare sparked a pinch of cowardice in me, and I felt my squared shoulders flinch. “This isn’t your call to make. Now go home and do as I
say.”

This time I was afraid of the power in his voice and the way it made my stomach curl. I whipped around and stomped up the stairs to the car, flinging my arms dramatically in the air with each step. I didn’t look back until I got to the wagon. Surprisingly, he was right there behind me, watching. Why did he care that I wasn’t alone? What was he doing, babysitting me?
Weirdo.

The loathing I felt for Lucas was immeasurable. I shot him one last enraged glance before dropping into my car and pulling
away.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Way It Was

I parked at the curb of my house minutes later and surveyed my injuries. First I looked at my knees and their shreds of broken skin. Vertical red streaks covered my kneecaps as if I’d been butchered with sandpaper. My palms were covered with cuts too, a deeper gash near one pinkie stinging worse than the others. I winced in
misery.

Now that my muscles were cold and the adrenaline almost gone, I had to force my weak legs to swing out of the car. I walked to the house with every muscle begging me to stop. I had stopped midway across the grass and arched my back in a stretch when I noticed Max and Casey’s unwashed Civic in the driveway. My intestines knotted with embarrassment about how I must look. When I got to the porch, I could hear the boys’ obnoxious cackling inside. I cracked open the front door quietly and then stepped in when I thought it was
clear.

I had one foot inside when the door miraculously opened. I jumped at the sight of Jett standing inside. He looked me over, from my feet up, his expression saturated with ridicule.

“What happened to you?” He tried hard to keep a straight face, but a large smile spread cheek to cheek. “Max, Case, come see
Zara!”

“Where’s Poppy?” I pushed past him and headed straight for the medicine cabinet.

Jett swiped the blond hair out of his eyes and straightened, looking confused. “Poppy?” I heard him close the door and follow me into the kitchen.

“I saw both your cars at the slaughter
house.”

“You must have got there right after me. I didn’t even get out of my car. When you didn’t show up, I left. I tried calling you. I didn’t know she was going to be there. Promise.” He grasped my arm lightly when I tried to nudge away. “Are you
okay?”

My hair fell across my face as I glared back. A red leaf was stuck in the frizz. I yanked it out just as Max and Casey walked around the corner. They stopped at the sight of my disarray and erupted in laughter.

The twins were tall and thin, with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. They had a way with words that annoyed me, as their little sister, but endeared them to others. When they fought as kids, they always called each other ugly. They weren’t idiots. They knew they both had the same ugly face. I just never knew that you could fight with someone and love them all at the same time. Lesson well taught. However, such pitiful goofiness came off as bullying as they got older, and they often found themselves in fights. It seemed, lately, that Max’s unfiltered arrogance most easily distinguished him from
Casey.

“You look like Eve, Zara. Figs and all,” Max crowed as I searched the cupboard for bandages. My lip began quivering as the stinging got
worse.

“Enough, Max,” Jett intervened with a
frown.

“Thanks, by the way,” I shouted over my shoulder, hands meddling with bottles, “for asking how I was after my car
crash.”

“Negative. Not going to happen,” Casey said. “Too much bro
mush.”

Jett looked stumped. “Bro
mush?”

“Look at you, Zara,” Max mumbled, nachos and cheese spilling out of his mouth. “You’re perfectly fine, just like Jett said. Why would we need to ask how you
were?”

“And the flowers? Don’t act like you don’t care.” I asked. I was getting upset
now.

“What stupid flowers?” Max snapped
back.

Pure terror slowed my breathing. I moved slower now, feeling a prickling sensation in my toes as I rummaged through my thoughts.
How did those flowers get
there?

Max rolled his eyes. “Anyways, Jett, what do you want to do today besides hook up with our
sister?”

“Max, stop!” I
yelled.

“Not cool, Max.” Jett shook his head, but I couldn’t help but notice him laughing. When I threatened him with a crazy stare, he sobered and stepped closer. “Zara, what happened? Don’t tell me you tripped.”

Finally. The bandages.
Who put them underneath the athletic tape, the rubbing alcohol, and the ibuprofen?
I snatched one up, annoyed, grabbed the antibiotic ointment as well, then went to the sink. When the water ran warm, I dipped each wound under the faucet one by one and scrubbed furiously, as if it would erase my memory of Lucas—and the girl’s body bleeding out as it rolled down the steep pyramid
steps.

The work of tending my wounds made me forget about the utter humiliation of the boys’ stares, but I also grew more terrified. What if I passed out again? I bit my lip, trying to stop it from quivering harder. It was difficult until the thought of Lucas made me want to
scream.

“Zara,” Jett called from somewhere distant, but when I looked up he was standing right next to me. His eyes flicked from the bloody scrapes to my eyes and back to my unnecessarily hard scrubbing.

“What, what did you say?” I mumbled.

“Where’d you go?” he asked
softly.

“I went for a hike,” I lied, resuming my cleansing with more gentleness.

“Were you attacked by an animal or something?”

“Ha. Not exactly,” I muttered under my
breath.

“What did you say?” Casey leaned over the bar across from me. I stopped so that I could look at him clearly.

“I said, not ex-act-ly. Gosh, what is with you guys? Lay off me for
once.”

“Wow-oh-ho!” Max snickered. “Eve to Medusa. You’re killing me, Zara.”

“Let’s go. We need more ammo for tomorrow,” Casey
said.

The boys were never up to any good when ammo was involved. But today, my heart was ultrasensitive. So much death, so much
blood.

“You’re going shooting again? You just went. And you’re going to get caught one of these days, watch,” I reprimanded.

Casey tilted his head with a grin. “Nah. Wilson Canyon is the best desert for
it.”

“And there’s not going to be any more animals left if you shoot them all!” My voice rose as if I had a megaphone pressed to my lips. The boys looked at me funny. “Just leave those poor rabbits, squirrels, or anything else you want to shoot
alone.”

The twins froze, looked at each other, then broke into their obnoxious laughs. “It’s coyotes,” they said as they walked
away.

Jett stayed at my side. His eyes drooped when the first tear formed in my eye. “Want to talk
later?”

I didn’t look up at him, only scrubbed. He waited a second, then dropped his head and walked away. Everything hurt. Thinking of Poppy and Jett hurt. Thinking of Lucas hurt. My damn knees
hurt.

After I had tended to every tear in my skin, I suddenly felt that everything on me had to be cleaned. I lifted my shirt up to my nose and took a sniff.
Ugh, I even smell like Lucas.
I went upstairs to my room, stripped off the rest of my clothes, and stepped into the shower. The fresh water stung the open flesh, making me cringe in pain. I hurried, washing away the remaining dirt and picking the black rims out from under my fingernails. Once my body smelled fruity and the cuts had turned a soft pink, I let the water fall on my back while I crossed my arms tightly over my
chest.

I squeezed my eyes shut when the memory of the girl’s scream echoed in my head. I shivered. Next came those black eyes, those creatures that looked like the one at my crash. I felt a wave of sickness inching upward as I imagined that somehow Lucas was involved.

I tried to finish the report later that night, but I was too exhausted. The report would have to be composed of whatever I could pull from Mae’s book in the morning. I threw my hands over my chest as I lay down and listened to the drizzle with unfocused eyes.
It’s strange how often it’s been raining,
I thought. And then I prepared something to say if Lucas dared to show his useless
face.

I woke to yellow light shining through the window. I shot out of bed, excited to feel its missed warmth, but shivered instead with achy bones. It was chilly. Then I remembered it was already the last week of September.

The wet streets smelled of oil as I drove to school an hour later, my bag packed with snacks for the day. I was hoping to get something written before class, but sitting there in the empty campus library, I couldn’t focus. There was a gritty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I questioned why I was still in town when I could be attending another college, away from
home.

At noon I met Bri at the sub shop inside the cafeteria. She was twisting her hair and avoiding her lunch as I walked
up.

“You’re not eating?” I looked at her full plate as I sat
down.

She stuck up her nose as if repulsed by her turkey sandwich and batted her eyes. “No. I am on a new
diet.”

I looked at her, amazed. “Why? You’re
skinny.”

“Not as skinny as you.” She pushed her food to the edge of the table and folded her arms. “So, what happened to your
hand?”

With the way Bri stared at my hand, I was glad I’d worn pants to cover my knees. I glanced down at it, then stared myself, dumbfounded. The purple had already turned to a soft yellow. It was nearly
healed.

“I fell,” I
said.

“Since when are you clumsy?” She chuckled.

I looked up and folded my arms over the table. “Bri, have you been feeling normal since our
crash?”

“I feel better than normal. You, no?”

I felt the opposite. Avoiding her gaze, I occupied myself with pretending there was something in my bag I needed. “I’m good. Just tired still, I
guess.”

Bri slouched, uninterested again, slowly picking at the bread of her sandwich. “Anyways, I can’t wait for Reno. It’s going to be so awesome. I bought the perfect dress to wear, I just hope the stupid rain doesn’t come back.” She left the sandwich and started searching for something in her
purse.

I picked up a fork and played with her Jell-O to occupy the nervous energy twisting through my veins. “So, what’s the story with you and
Tommy?”

“I don’t know.” Her speech was slow as she examined her nails. “The boy sure does move like a snail.” She glanced at her watch and stood. “Crap. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow, right?”

“Right.” I waved good-bye and played around on my phone until my time of doom arrived.

I was surprised that Lucas wasn’t in class when the hour hit. Part of me actually thought he’d show up. I was pulling out a piece of scratch paper when he slid onto the edge of the chair next to me. He smiled casually, as if nothing was wrong, though a second later his right leg started to shake, and he tapped his pencil on the armrest.

I looked away with a roll of my eyes and reached into my backpack, where Mae’s book was sandwiched between textbooks. I pulled it out and pried it open, looking for interesting facts I could add to my speech. I was grateful that the grade was not based solely on our written report, which I was sure we were going to bomb. As I swiped a strand of hair behind my ear, I saw Lucas do a double take at the book on my
lap.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, pointing to
it.

“The library.”

“Which
one?”

“The one on the pier.” I folded my arms over it as if to protect it from his protruding stare. “Why?”

“Can I see
it?”

A funny feeling ballooned inside me. I watched him suspiciously, holding him responsible for my uneasiness, and inched away slightly. “No.”

“No?” That demeaning tone made me feel ten times smaller.

“Because it’s not mine,” I blurted. “And it isn’t the library’s. My friend let me borrow
it.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t know
her.”

Lucas pondered this as the creases between his eyebrows deepened. “You said the library on the
pier?”

I nodded weakly, my mind incoherent. The furrow of his eyes, the freshly shaven face—he
did
shave—the unruly hair; it was all hot. I had squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them wide to wake up when Professor Tanner called my name. Panic washed through me, and I looked to
Lucas.

He smiled slyly and handed me a sheet of
paper.

“What’s this?” I
asked.

“Our
report.”

My fingers went stone cold as I stared at the sheet between them. “You did our
report?”

He chuckled. “Don’t you want to read it first before you get up
there?”

“Ms. Moss?” Professor Tanner
called.

My hand shaking at the risk I was taking, I walked to the front of the room and cleared my throat. Lucas spread his arms across the chairs on either side of him and grinned boyishly. I was either going to regret this or cherish this. I looked down at the typed page and
began.

Everything flowed until halfway through, when the details became gory—and very similar to what I had witnessed. Sights and sounds from yesterday—even scents—flooded my senses. My body shook enough to make me clip my words midsentence, and I had to stop. I glanced around the class, mortified, as I wiped my perspiration from my brow. Nobody cared. Half were looking down at their phones, and the others were either doodling or checking the clock. As I further stumbled over words like
scalp
and
dismember
and
cannibals
, I made an obvious effort to scowl at Lucas. When the torture was over, my body trembled with fury as I sat next to
him.

“What?” he mouthed, as I glared at
him.

“You’re just sprinkled with surprises, aren’t you?” When he didn’t respond, I blew out all my hot air like a pricked balloon. “Of all things about their civilization,
that
is what you decided to put in it? Blood-crusted hair, beating hearts, dismembered bodies, cannibals!”

His usually animated face suddenly showed no emotion. “Yes, because
that
is how things
were.”

I leaned back quickly, my body pounding for some reason. “Why couldn’t you have put something about their calendar or native vegetation?”

“What’s the fun in
that?”

My mind ran a million miles an hour after reasons why Lucas would know so much about that—or why I saw what I did. I had begun to wonder if there were still tribes of them today, hiding and doing those things in secret, when Lucas chuckled
weakly.

“Those Aztecs don’t exist anymore,” he
said.

I was stumped. “Ancestors, maybe?”