Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6) (15 page)

30  Rest for the Weary

The edges of the white light encircling the ten bodies in the water began to draw together, constricting until it only enveloped Danny before fading completely. 

Clipped echoes of Maze’s worried barks were replaced by a series of loud, powerful splashes.  The coydog had enough of whatever was happening to his family without him.  He paddled furiously at the salty water and reached them just as the light subsided.

Each floated lifelessly, their bodies rolling atop the undulating, dark surface of the lake.

The wind began slicing away at the desert’s top sheets of sand and flinging them across
the sky.

Maze made his way to the closest person and started licking
his face frantically, stopping only to bark in his ear.  It was Alik.

He opened his eyes and blinked hard against the tiny shards of desert pelting the side of his face.  Gasping, he flipped himself over and reached with his long legs to find his footing in the gritty basin.  He looked around frantically at the floating bodies starting to drift
apart propelled by the gusts of sand and wind.  Maze barked in his face before swimming away.  His bright-yellow eyes locked on the body furthest from the shore.  Farrow was the nearest body to him.  He swam and grabbed her by the arm, yanked her upright.  Her head lolled to her shoulder, limp.

“Farrow!  Wake up!  We have to get out of here!”  He held her with one hand
while the other cupped her jaw and gently shook her.

Farrow’s eyes slowly open
ing, she inhaled.  She ended her breath in a coughing fit. 

“What happened?  Alik!  Oh my God, Alik!” Her hands touched the skin around his eyes.

“No time,” Alik shook her off.

“We need to get the others and find shelter.  The sandstorm, Farrow!”

Farrow looked around as though waking from a dream, squinting into the sand-filled air and saw the others in the water. 

“Can you reach the bottom?” Alik asked worriedly. 

Farrow tried, but felt nothing except water under her boots. 

“No, but I can swim!” She took off to her left
.  Her short, dark hair plastered to her head and swam toward the nearest person.

Alik felt
as if he’d been slapped in the back of the head by the next wall of sand that tumbled across the water’s surface.  The bodies around him started to stir having felt the razor-sharp shards scrape their exposed skin.  Within thirty seconds, all but two were upright and swimming toward each other as much as they were heading to shore.  Through nearly closed eyes, Alik saw Maze paddling tirelessly with a bundle on his back.  It was Danny.  He was burying his face into Maze’s wet body, both small hands gripping the coydog’s fur.  Maze didn’t even stop to acknowledge anyone else; he was focused against the storm to get the little boy to safety. 

Alik was doing a headcount when he heard someone yell over the wind for help.

He whipped his head around searching for the source of the small voice that seemed to come from every direction. 

He chose his nearest guess and after ten furious strokes he nearly barreled through Theo
as he Margo and tried to tread water. 

“Mom!” Alik called, shaking her by the shoulders. 

“I can’t get her to wake up!” Theo screamed over the roar of the storm.

Alik reached around his mother’s shoulders from behind and locked his arm holding her tightly.   “This way,” he yelled to Theo and started swimming back to shore, pulling his mother with him. 
When he could touch the ground, he pushed his mother in front of him determined to get her to safety.  Lifting her he ran toward the abandoned vacation homes along the beach.  The sandstorm tugged angrily at their sopping clothes, fighting him at every step.   Still he ran. 

Through squinted eyes he saw
the others struggling against the wind as they made their way to shelter.  Everyone was disoriented and unable to communicate over the roaring, violent storm, but they all heard the sound of Maze’s sharp barks.  Instinctively, they followed the coydog’s sharp cry and converged at the leeward side of the nearest house. 

Alik found a side door to the house and grabbed the locked handle.  One shove with his shoulder and the deadbolt ripped through the wooden door frame.  

He ran into the darkened room.  Everyone came spilling in behind him, panting and coughing the desert from their lungs.

“Is everyone here?” Evan asked the room full of people breathing hard and shuffling blindly.

A series of exhausted voices spoke up between coughs.  Evan counted eight including himself. 

“Okay, that’s eight of us
, and I’ve got Kylie, so that’s nine.”  He had located a plush chair and was gently draping the girl’s body across it.  “Alik, you have Mom, right?”

“Yeah, I have her.  That makes ten.”  Alik found a couch and was carefully l
aying her down on it.  Theo was hovering anxiously beside him so Alik moved aside and let him have room to check her vitals even in the dark.

“Is Mom okay?” Alik’s voice cracked with fear.

Evan was too afraid to speak through his immediate sense of nausea at the thought that his mother was anything but fine. 

“She’s breathing and her pulse is good.  I think it’s just a matter of time before she wakes.”  The brothers nudged Theo aside to be near her.  He moved down to her feet, to allow the boys access to their mother.  He began to unlace her shoes
.  He eased them off her cold feet, then worked on removing the dripping socks beneath.

In the
inky-black room, Evan felt for himself his mother’s pulse and breathing.  Only then did he exhale the breath he was holding.

“Hey, Ev.  A little light, please?”  Theo called from the other end of the sofa.

“Light.  Sure, I can try.”  Evan reluctantly let go of his mother’s hand to stand and look around for a light source he could capture and amplify.  “The sandstorm has blocked any moonlight and my lighter is waterlogged in my pocket.”

“Let me see what I can find in the kitchen,” Alik offered. 

“I’ll help,” Farrow spoke from a corner of the room. 

A tremendous gust of wind shook the wood framed house violently.  What sounded like pictures came crashing to the floor having been knocked clean off the walls.  Everyone instinctively crouched and threw their hands over their heads.

Maze huddled protectively atop Danny who drifted in and out of consciousness on the floor in the middle of the room.

When the wind eased up, Alik and Farrow stood and instinctively reached out for one another.  

“Everyone okay?”  Sloan asked. 

Another round of responses rose from the ink black room.

“I’m going to see what I can find to shove against the windows,” Creed stood from his crouched position and started walking carefully toward the wall taking the brunt of the pounding.  Broken glass and wayward sand crunched beneath his heavy boots as he moved to locate the windows.  Even with his naturally adept night vision, he was struggling to make out more than hints of silhouettes around the blackened space.

Alik and Farrow walked, hands outstretched, feet shuffling until they found a corridor that led to the kitchen. 

“You start here, and I’ll go to the other side.  They have to have left something helpful somewhere,” Alik hoped out loud.

“Right,” Farrow coughed.  Her hands found a drawer
and opened it to feel around at the contents. 

Hand towels.

The next drawer clanged loudly when she yanked it open.  Careful to avoid sharp edges, she felt around the utensils inside. 

“Wait
, I’ve found a bunch of candles, but I don’t feel any matches.  Dang it!”

“Well they have to have some somewhere if they’ve got candles,” Farrow offered.

Alik stopped to cough deeply before returning to the search—reaching into one cabinet after another, finding useless cups, plates and bowls.

“Can I help?”  Cole’s voice sounded from the general direction of the doorway.

“Sure,” Farrow and Alik said at the same time.

Moments later, the room filled with the distinct sound of matches being shaken in a box.  “Found ‘
em,” Cole chirped happily.

“Where were they?”

“I tripped over what felt like a toddler sized rocking chair out there.” 

A sandpaper-gritty sound blended with the roar of sand pelting the house. Cole held the lit match above his head as they looked around orienting themselves.

“I figured the parents probably put the matches on top of the refrigerator.  At least, that’s what my dad did when I was a kid.”  He shrugged before turning to head back to the others.  Alik grabbed a candle before he and Farrow hurried after him, following the yellow glow.

“Cole found matches!” Farrow announced just as the flame singed Cole’s fingers and went out.

“Ouch!”

“Thank goodness!”

“Excellent!

Again, they heard
the distinct sound of a sulfur-tipped match being dragged across sandpaper and another match was lit.  “It’s all you, Ev.” Cole nodded in the dim light across the room to Evan. 

Evan couldn’t help but grin as he reached his left hand out ready to grab the flame. 

Light having nothing to do with the flame Cole held blossomed just above his open palm.  A churning orange sphere glowed hot and alive a hair’s breadth above his skin.

“That’s different,” he breathed, honey eyes locked onto the ethereal-looking orb.

He opened his palm wider and the ball grew in dimension and brightness. 

“How are you doing that?”  Farrow asked, amazed.

“I have no idea.”  Evan shook his head.

“That’s not a flame.  Have you ever done this before?” Theo asked.

“No, sir.”

31  The Faith of a Child

Everybody stared as Evan opened and closed his left hand.  The orb appeared and vanished repeatedly. 

“Are you able to control it?  I mean, can you decide when it appears?”  Alik pressed.

Evan closed his hand.  His fist glowed briefly before the light was extinguished.  When he opened his hand again the light was gone.

“What happened?”  Theo asked, worried.

“The light only manifests when I want it to—I think.”  Evan continued to test his ability.

“Evan, your scars.” Sloan was staring not at the orb, but at the smooth, flawless skin below it. 

Everybody had been so absorbed in the newfound gift, only Sloan had looked beyond the orb to his hand.

Evan held his palm up to his face and studied it. 

Across the room, Alik discreetly stepped forward with the candle and took the flame from Cole’s nearly spent match. 

Cole muttered something about getting more candles before hurrying back down the corridor to the kitchen.

Alik walked toward his little brother.  Evan stood absolutely still.  His honey eyes searched his hand like he’d misplaced something valuable. “Your scars.  They’re gone?”

Evan looked up at Alik and blinked hard.  “Your face
—”

Alik frowned, but reached up and touched the smooth, pink skin on his face.  A distant look came over his eyes as he remembered the beating and chemical burns.

“Oh, wow.”

Evan looked from Alik’s face to his smooth palm, then spun on his heels and hurried back to Kylie.  His skilled fingertips searched for her pulse and found it easily—strong and steady. Discreetly he moved her torn, wet shirt away from her shoulder.  Her bullet wound was smooth and pink, much like Alik’s face.

Evan and Alik exchanged wide-eyed expressions.

Sloan stepped forward.  Without asking, she reached out and took Evan’s left hand in both of hers and ran her thumbs over his palm.  She began searching not just with her eyes, but with her skilled sense of touch for the knotted and raised scar tissue that had covered more than eighty-percent of the skin there.  It was gone.  Instead, she noted his fresh, pink skin where the scarring used to be.  Evan’s fingertips twitched with sensation at her gentle manipulation.  

“I don’t get it.  I thought the scars were what made it possible for me to refract light.  With them gone, how am I able to do any of this?” 

“You’re not using the flame as a source, are you?” Sloan asked as she watched Evan open both hands, palms up, and create identical lighted spheres.

Evan only shook his head.  “And I never could do anything with my right hand.”

The room watched him push the two orbs side by side then gasped as they merged into
a large mass.

Boom!

The storm outside slammed the house with what sounded like a wall of sand. 

Startled, Cole dropped his freshly lit candles. 

Evan reached out to the flames licking the fibers of the rug at his feet.  Before they had a chance to ignite the rug, he willed them to leap into his hand.  The fire brightened his glowing ball briefly as it was absorbed.