Wildcat Fireflies (42 page)

The cold sweat rolling down my neck made my back itch.

“Nicole, you’ll get blown away.” I reached for her hands, trying to change places.

“No! I’ll go. You have to survive, then find Meridian!” she shrieked against my ear, though I barely understood her words. She wiggled out of my grasp and darted outside.

I tried to force the door closed, but the wind refused to yield. I gave up, knowing each second was precious.

The wind sounded like a railroad yard. The snap and crackle of branches, the sounds of car alarms and cows bawling in distress whipped under the cracks of the doors and through window seams.

I took the stairs two at a time, still calling for Bodie and Sema over the storm. Thinking, hoping, maybe they were simply hiding and scared.

I swung open Enid’s door and found her sprawled on the floor. With a cry, I knelt by her, gathering her weak frame in my arms.

With her lips pressed against my ear she said as loud as she could, “The sirens, they scared me.” She trembled in my arms. “I was trying to get to the cellar.” She’d twisted her ankle and already the skin was a mottled purple and black. “It hurts.” she whimpered. Her arm was bleeding where she’d pulled the IV needle and tubes out.

I shushed her, rocking her. “I know. We’ll get there. I have to pick you up.” I wondered if I was strong enough to make it more than a few steps carrying her.

Her cheeks wet with fright, she quaked. “I can’t make it, dear. You go. My Glee will keep me wrapped in her hands.”

“I’m not leaving you.” I’d been helpless to save Glee; I wasn’t abandoning her sister. I put my hands under Enid’s arms and whispered a quick prayer that I wouldn’t hurt her more than necessary. I hefted her upper body against my chest, dragging her weak legs out of the room and toward the hallway. I felt wind begin to ruffle the air around us as if the walls were growing thinner and intangible. As if the wind’s fingers unlocked the windows and opened the doors of DG to get into each tiny space, each nook and abandoned corner.

Fear pumped adrenaline through my veins until my heart raced and my fingertips tingled.

Branches cracked in the forest outside the windows. Debris hit the house, ricocheted off the roof. I heard a window crack and shatter somewhere downstairs. Trees fell with a shudder that shook the earth. A deafening roar sounded above me and I looked up, amazed, to see that a massive gust had pulled off a huge chunk of the roof. Wind whipped my face and rain lashed my clothes about my body. I knew we
were going to die. We would be next to be picked up and tossed into the current of the twister.

Enid shouted, feebly pushing against me. I didn’t know if she was terrified or trying to tell me something. I didn’t have time to think; the wind sucked the air from my lungs and made it hard to breathe past this nightmare come to life.

My ears popped, but all I could hear was a train’s approach. A huge, angry train whistling right toward us on a collision course. I bracketed Enid against the wall, shielding her fragile frame as best I could. I prayed with everything I had for Bodie, Sema, and Nicole. I wished my life weren’t ending like this, but how could we possibly survive an encounter with a tornado?

A crack near us forced my head up to investigate. There, out of the shadows, a man who seemed to be made of midnight and steel strode toward us. I think I screamed.

T
ens hesitated at the top of the stairs to Joi’s storm cellar.

“No!” I shouted up at him. “No! Stay!” I read the stubborn need written on his face. He intended to leave me in the shelter and go after Juliet. I felt like shouting “over my dead body,” but I didn’t think he’d appreciate my attempt at black humor.

“Come on, son.” Tony nudged him down the rest of the stairs.

I knew Tens could have broken the man’s hold on his shoulder. He was strong enough to push away and take off like he wanted to. But he didn’t.

I should have thanked him, for picking me. But I didn’t feel generous or lucky. Instead I felt pissed and cranky that he’d even considered leaving me in a tornado to check on another girl. Never mind her Fenestra status.

Tens pulled me aside and leaned down to my ear. “Merry, what if she needs—”

I felt his breath brush my cheek and stir my hair. My heart screamed “Mine!” Why didn’t he understand? Why did he force this? I yelled, “You’re my Protector, Tens.
Mine.
” It wasn’t that I wanted anything to happen to Juliet—I didn’t—but I’d lost too much already. I wasn’t giving up Tens without a fight. I curled my fingers into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

I pretended not to see the confused glances Joi and Tony shared.

Tens tried again to whisper. “I know that. But you’re here and safe. What if she’s not?”

“She’s been taking care of herself for this long.” Why did I have to explain this to him? Okay, so we’d been sent because she wasn’t doing a great job of that, but still. “I need you.”

Tens nodded, but his hardened expression made me regret my words.

Even Joi’s storm cellar was decorated with cheery florals, pillows, strings of funny lights shaped like sunflowers, candy canes, and cowboy boots. Like Helios but much cozier: only a dozen or so people would fit inside this outrageously decorated box.

I heard hail hit the heavy doors like a mob of crazy people beating to get in.

Tens sat down, far away from me, even in the tiny space, his arms crossed and his mouth pinched. Tony went to sit next to him.

Joi’s frown was questioning and concerned as she glanced between us. The lights blinked out completely. “Don’t move.” Joi flicked on a flashlight and then moved about the space, switching the knobs on battery-powered LED lanterns.

All at once, I felt like we were back in the caves in Revelation. Just Tens and me. Did he think about that time too? He’d been so sick, I knew he didn’t remember much of it. Would we ever get back to those caves? Rebuild Auntie’s house? Have a life together that was normal?

I leaned against the cushions and tried to tune out the surging sounds of apocalypse outside.

Joi tucked a fleece blanket around me and patted my hand. For once she didn’t ask probing questions.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

Tony and Tens spoke in hushed voices, Tens’s full of dark sighs and harsh consonants, Tony’s steady and calm.

“Have you told her that?” I heard Tony ask.

I perked up an ear, but didn’t twitch an eyelid.

“No. How?”

“Start at the beginning. It might help.”

“Maybe,” Tens said.

Tony wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Try.”

Joi’s cheery voice asked, “Would anyone like soup, tea, or coffee?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Tony answered. “How’s your family in this storm?”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Worry frayed the edges of her voice. Joi wandered the room fluffing pillows and straightening knickknacks.

I sat up, realizing that these storms affected more than just Tens and me and Juliet.
Self-centered much, Meridian?
“Are your husband and daughter at home?”

“No, she’s back at college and he’s at work. I talked to him earlier and they were working in the basement as the storm approached. Tornadoes are par for the course in the spring. These are early, though, and particularly fierce.” She refolded the same blanket twice.

“How long do we stay down here?” I asked. The storm in
The Wizard of Oz
was the only tornado I was familiar with and that wasn’t exactly a documentary.

Joi untied and then made new bows around the necks of bunnies and bears. She sorted the tea bags by kind and then picked up a deck of cards. “Until the radio in that corner squawks an all clear or we hear the all-clear siren. It’s a good thing the restaurant wasn’t open quite yet, or we’d have more folks down here with us.” She seemed restless and caged. “Anyone up for a card game?”

“Sure, I’ll play cards with you.” I tried to smile, glancing at Tens and Tony’s animated conversation.

Joi rummaged in the corner chests for game supplies, muttering the names of card games under her breath.

Tens scooted over next to me. “I’m sorry.” His demeanor was purposeful and direct, but guarded.

“Me too.” I licked my lips and swallowed, not sure where to begin with an explanation of my jealousy.
How do I put into words the fear of being abandoned?

“I need to tell you something first.”

“Okay.” I waited. I’d learned he needed to generate momentum to start sharing; saying much of anything could derail the whole process.

Tony passed Joi a note and they moved to a small bistro table and chairs across the room. It was as much privacy as they could manage without leaving the cellar.

Tens touched my knee with a tentative tenderness. “Before Auntie’s I lived in Seattle with Tyee. You know that?”

I nodded.

“The last time I saw my grandfather he’d taken me to his friend’s house.

“The friend was a cop. He left me there with a backpack and money. Said if he wasn’t back in the morning, I should open the bag. I was eleven.

“There was pounding on the door. The cop must have known more than I did because he pulled his gun and told me to grab my bag. I was to go into the bathroom, lock the door, and wedge anything I could against it to make it hard to get in. He told me not to come out until he said ‘cauliflower.’ ”

“Cauliflower?”

“It was a way for me to know not to trust what came out of his mouth—you don’t accidentally say ‘cauliflower,’ and no one puts a gun to your head forcing you to say it either.”

I nodded. Picturing a scared young boy not knowing what was going on, or why.

“I think he opened the front door. I heard a struggle.
Shouting. The gun went off. Again and again. There was silence and then voices said, ‘Two down, one to go.’ Someone yelled to find the damned kid.”

I reached out and gripped his hand.

He squeezed back but continued his story without stopping. “There was a big window above the tub. It didn’t open, so I wrapped my arm in a towel and elbowed it like Tyee had taught me. He taught me how to survive. It shattered and I dove out. I ran all night. I ran until I collapsed.” A single tear flowed down his cheek. “I hid under a bridge for two days until I got picked up and put in foster care. Group homes. Every time I ran away, I learned something else about being on the street. I was totally alone. No one, Meridian. There was no one out there except me. No one had my back. No one cared if I came home or if I lived through a tornado. I headed for the open spaces, for the mountains. Taking odd jobs to eat and sleep. Inching closer to Revelation and Auntie. Tyee had always preached to go to her: ‘If anything happens to me, go to the Fulbrights in Revelation, Colorado.’ That was a mantra from the time I arrived at the SeaTac airport.”

“What happened to Tyee?”

“He’s dead.”

I knew that. I lifted my other hand to his cheek, trying to soak up some, any, of his pain. “I’m sorry.” I wished we knew exactly what had happened. What did it mean?

He nodded.

“But you got to Auntie’s, right?”

“I did. But it took me years. There was money in that
bag but not enough to buy a plane ticket or hop a train legally. Then it was stolen and I didn’t even have that.” He shook his head.

“I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I know what it’s like to have no one. No one. Not someone putting a roof over my head, or feeding me, or caring if I went to school or lived another day. I can’t just leave Juliet to think she’s alone. I can come back to you. I can leave you with people who will help you. I know you’ll be okay in the short-term. You are so strong, so capable. I don’t know that about her. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

He was right. I hated that he was right. “I’m jealous.” I owned it. In the face of his heart-wrenching honesty, I couldn’t delude either of us with pretty words. The truth was ugly, but it was truth.

He shook his head and leaned toward me. He captured my face with his palm. “Of what?” he asked in disbelief.

“Of her. Of you wanting to help her. And I’m afraid of losing you like I’ve lost everyone else.”

“Meridian, you don’t always need my help. Aren’t you the one who said just because we’re destined doesn’t mean we have to be inseparable?”

“I was lying.”

“No, you were right. Destiny can make an arranged marriage, but not a love match.”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“I love you because of you. Not because of Fenestras, or angels, or Creators, or wolves and cats. Because I love you. I don’t feel her, Merry; I’ve tried over and over again
and I can’t sense her. But I know your heart.” He hesitated as if searching for the words. “Still, I’m always going to want to help the underdog.”

I swallowed, blinking. “I know. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

“I don’t know if that’s just me, or my experiences, or something else.”

“Sum of all of it, probably.” My heart lightened. I tried to let go of the fear, of the need to question his motivation. I learned to trust in us, in what we had together.

He dropped a light kiss on my lips. “But I’d rather we did it together. Side by side. Partners? I mean, we still have to work on your aim, but you can save my ass any day.”

“I’d rather not have to.” I leaned into his embrace, relaxing.

“That’s where two heads are better than one.” Tens smiled.

I grinned back, leaning into his mouth for a kiss that chased the shadows from my heart. I knew I could depend on Tens for whatever this life threw at me. And now, with his confession, I felt like he trusted me with his story, with his wounds and burdens. Some of them. Enough for the short-term.

The radio in the corner squawked and beeped.

Joi cleared her throat. “I think I’m coming into this story in the final act, but that’s the all clear and we can go rescue”—she turned to Tony—“what’s her name?”