The Prophecy (8 page)

Caleb
picked his way back to us, a broad grin on his face. “Who’s up for an epic game
of paintball?”  

It was
Caleb, Adrian, and me against Jasmine, Will, and Astrid. Shyla had conveniently
disappeared, taking the car with her—to where, I didn’t know—and I silently cursed
her for leaving me alone in this. Losing at paintball was nowhere on my bucket
list of things to do before I died.

The guys
disappeared into the same storage shed where we’d found the bikes and began
digging out the paintball gear. Watching Jasmine and Astrid out of the corner
of my eye, I tried not to feel too self-conscious about the way they pressed
their heads together, or how their eyes kept darting to me. I tried to convince
myself they could be talking about anything. Or any
one
.

Just when
I thought I couldn’t stand it any longer, the guys returned, each of them
dragging a clear plastic bin. “We played a tournament last week, so
everything’s already prepped and good to go,” Caleb said.

“A
tournament?” I squeaked out.

“Yeah. A
couple of us play on a team in the next town over. I guess we’re pretty good.”

That
sounded suspiciously serious to me. Definitely a lot more serious than just
your average
game
. To me, “game” implied Candy Land or Chutes and
Ladders. Something safe and fun where only feelings got hurt. “Tournament,” on
the other hand, had a certain last-man-standing sound to it that turned my
insides to goo.

Caleb tossed
a mask to me. I caught it, after nearly dropping it first, and turned it over to
examine the paint job. It had been airbrushed in red and black to make it look
like a human skull. Sinister skeletal teeth grinned back at me. I surreptitiously
peeked inside the box, hoping there was a Hello Kitty or Disney Princess mask
instead. Strictly taking skill into account, that was probably more my speed.

Caleb
pulled out another mask and tossed it to Adrian. Flames in orange, yellow, and
red flickered across his.

“They’re
not just pretty good,” Adrian said. “They’re freaking awesome. Caleb wants to
go pro someday.”

“There’s
pro
paintball?” I laughed a little uncertainly. “I guess I’m glad we’re
on the same team then.”

Caleb’s
eyes cut to mine but he didn’t laugh. When he didn’t even crack a smile, I
realized paintball was a serious sport to him and not some joke.

Suddenly
I was back in the smelly high school gym playing girls against guys. In my
opinion, there was no punishment worse than making a group of teenage girls
play against guys in
any
sport, especially one that involved a ball, no
matter how small it was. I had a feeling this experience would rank right up
there.

Jasmine
pushed Caleb aside. “Here it is.” Her mask was a bright pink skull with a white
rose painted between its teeth.

“Wait. You’re
on the team, too?” I cleared my throat, embarrassed that my voice had come out an
octave too high.

Jasmine
sensed my apprehension and gave me a falsely innocent smile in return. “Yep.”

Caleb started
to pass me a gun from the cache but Jasmine’s pert little mouth popped open. “Don’t
give her that one, you moron. It’s a four-hundred dollar Tippmann Phenom!”

I
should have been insulted, but I let it go—both the gun and Jasmine’s implication
that I couldn’t be trusted with it. I had no idea what a Tippmann Phenom was, and
I didn’t really care. But there was no way I was going to be held responsible
for a toy gun that would put a major dent in my car fund if I accidentally
broke it and had to buy another one.

“Fine.
Here.” Caleb handed the more expensive gun to Adrian and then dug out one that looked
like an oversized water pistol. I definitely wasn’t going to win with that
thing, not that I actually thought I stood a chance. He pushed it into my
hands.

“We
don’t ever use this one,” he said.

“Because
that one’s for beginners,” Jasmine pointed out. “Don’t worry. It’s pretty idiot-proof.”

She put
up her hands, brown eyes wide with mock innocence. Her smile was all sweetness
and charm and made me want to barf. “Not that I’m implying you’re an idiot, but
you know.”

I smiled
back, the corner of my mouth pulling up in a sneer. “Whatever.”

After
the guns had been passed around and I’d been given a quick demonstration on how
to pull a trigger, Caleb let loose an ear-piercing whistle through his teeth
and made a sweeping follow-me motion with his arm. We started off into the
woods and shuffled single-file along a path that was only visible because of
how often the brush had been tamped down.

The sun
was out in full force now, reaching us even under the cover of the forest. The
air was heavy with humidity, and I felt wet and sticky. Wisps of hair lay
plastered against my neck and cheeks and I swiped irritably at them. The
pungent odor of skunk suddenly assaulted my nostrils, making me gag, and I put
a hand over my mouth and nose. Jasmine saw, elbowed Astrid, and both of them rolled
their eyes and giggled.

 After
what felt like a lifetime later, we finally came upon a clearing in the trees.  The
space was nearly the size of a football field. My lungs ached and I got shin
splints just thinking about running for my life while dodging Jasmine’s bullets.
I hadn’t a clue what I’d ever done to her, but I knew I was going to end up her
primary target.

Suddenly,
this game was personal.

Bits of
old fencing, rusted-out cars, strategically placed burn barrels, and bushes and
spindly trees provided cover. I quickly realized this wasn’t some slapdash
obstacle course.

“Everything
beyond those trees is off limits,” Caleb instructed as he pointed toward the outside
perimeter of the course. “If you try to hide out in the woods or use them to
circle around to get to your opponents, you’re automatically disqualified. Stay
within the boundaries of the field. Everyone got it?”

Jasmine
saluted her brother. “Got it.”

Caleb
ignored her and instead swiveled to point at what looked like some sort of fort
on the far end of the field. “The dead zone is over there.”

“What’s
a dead zone?” I said.

“It’s
where you go if you get hit.” Jasmine rolled her eyes again at me but at least
left off the implied
stupid
.

Astrid,
who’d been relatively quiet up to that point, snorted and muttered under her
breath, “What an idiot.”

“Since
this is Sarah’s first time—” Caleb turned to me and said in an undertone, “This
is your first time, isn’t it?”

“Does
she look like someone who actually has any sort of experience?” Jasmine said.
“She probably still plays tea-party in her bedroom with her American Girl
dolls.”

My
cheeks burned. I opened my mouth to make a witty comeback when Adrian cut me
off.

“Not
everyone has your level of experience, Jasmine. And we all know it’s not ‘tea
party’ you’re playing at in
your
bedroom.” 

Will hooted
with laughter and offered his fist to Adrian. “Burn, man. Burn!”

Jasmine
gave Adrian a piercing look and then grabbed Will’s hand, pulling him off
balance. “Hey, idiot! Whose side are you on anyway?”

Astrid’s
hands went to her hips as she turned on Jasmine. “Don’t call my boyfriend an
idiot!”

Caleb
looked at the ground and shook his head, muttering a few choice swear words under
his breath. “I knew it was a mistake to ask you two to play. There’s always
girl drama whenever you’re around.”

Jasmine
turned to her brother and thrust her chin at him. “Then how about we leave, huh?
You won’t have a game at all then.”

Caleb
sighed. “Fine. You can stay. Just keep your mouth shut, all right? Be a team
player for once.” He turned to the rest of us. “Now, this is a simple game of
elimination. If you get hit, you’re out.”

“And a
hit is an actual
hit
. Not just a splatter,” Jasmine said, popping over
his shoulder like an annoying Jack-in-the-Box.

“Right,”
Caleb said. “If it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t count.”

My head
bobbed as if I actually had a clue as to what they were talking about, and then
my stomach dropped as his words registered in my mind. “Wait. It’s gonna hurt?”

Jasmine
stared at me as if I really
was
an idiot. Caleb lifted the hem of his
tee-shirt and pulled down the waistband of his shorts to reveal a silver-dollar
sized bruise blooming across his hip. It was a nasty shade of green and yellow.
He smiled to show how proud he was of his war wound.

“Heck
yeah, it’ll hurt. I got this one a week ago.”

I
looked down at my own naked arms. “Aren’t we supposed to be wearing protective
clothing or something?”

Caleb
pointed at the mask in my hand. “That’s the most important part. Don’t get hit
and you’ll be fine. Everyone ready? We’ll play a twenty-minute game to start, just
to keep it short and sweet.”

Jasmine
hoisted the gun over her shoulder and looked directly at me. “Doubt it’ll even
take that long.”

I
turned my back on her as Caleb raised his arm in the air and made a sort of
swirly motion with his finger. Everyone took off in opposite directions, except
for me, who just stood there. Apparently I’d missed the signal. I broke into a
jog to catch up with Adrian, staying as close to him as possible. How in the
world had I got roped in to playing paintball? Adrian took my hand and led me
to where Caleb had taken cover behind a section of old fencing.

“Get
your mask on,” Caleb said to me, not even bothering to hide his irritation at
my apparent stupidity.

“Oh.
Right.” I fumbled getting it on, barely able to control my trembling fingers. I
had to remind myself repeatedly that this was only a game, that it wasn’t real.
I might get bruised, but I wasn’t going to die. Twenty minutes, probably less,
and this would all be over.

“So how
do we do this?” I asked, my voice muffled behind the thick plastic. “Is there
some, like, tactical mumbo-jumbo I should know about?”

Adrian
looked at me and laughed. “Tactical mumbo-jumbo?”

“The
plan!” I shrieked at him as I got a heavy dose of adrenaline. “What’s the
plan?”

Caleb jabbed
my shoulder with his finger, which made me rock back on my heels. “The plan is
for you to stay away from Jasmine and Astrid.
Especially
Jasmine. Don’t
worry about Will. He’ll go after me or Adrian. Got it?”

 I guess
I wasn’t too shocked that Caleb had picked up on Jasmine’s apparent hatred of
me. And for what reason? I mentally dog-eared all the questions going through
my head. Adrian and I would definitely have to talk later.

“Got
it.”

“Are
you ready?” Will’s question carried from across the field.

“Ready!”
Adrian and Caleb yelled together. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer to
whoever might be listening.

“Game
on!”

EIGHT

I rose
and dressed before sunrise, and had my bag packed and ready to go. I’d barely
slept at all—not with what happened during paintball running on a loop in my head.

Everyone
was still asleep. I crept into the kitchen and measured out water and grounds
for coffee, and then flipped the switch to ON. While I waited, I poured myself
a glass of orange juice and took it outside where I could be alone with my
thoughts.

Only I
wasn’t alone, after all.

Caleb
didn’t turn around as I approached him from behind. I knew that he knew I was
there—the door had groaned on my way out—but neither of us said a word. Instead,
I stood staring at the gray tee-shirt stretched taut against his back, and his
blue-tipped hair, spiked in its ridiculous faux-hawk, even at this hour.

“It’s
early,” I said at last. “What are you doing here?” I sat on the step next to him
and closed my eyes for a moment, basking in the quiet early-morning light as it
struggled through the trees and tried in vain to warm my prickly-cool skin.

Caleb
had been making a small pile of twigs and leaves on the concrete step between
our feet. His hand hovered over the debris for a moment before it smoked and finally
caught fire. It quickly fizzled out, though. “I still suck at that one,” he
said.

I
licked my lips, my breath catching in my chest. This was exactly what I had
suspected yesterday, and he’d just confirmed it. “Does anyone else know?”

“My
mom,” he whispered. “And Jasmine.”

“H-how
. . .
what
. . ?”

Caleb’s
shoulders rose and fell. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

I wrapped
my arms around my knees, feeling suddenly very cold. “Adrian doesn’t know?”

“Nope.”

“Or
Shyla?”

Caleb laughed
under his breath. “Definitely not her.”

“Why
not? They’d understand, Caleb. Especially Shyla.”