Bad Bloods: November Rain
Page 12
***
I shot up and grabbed my shoulder as breath forced itself down my throat. My heart slammed against my ribs, and sweat smeared my palm. My bedroom wall stared back at me like a mirror. The dream. I was dreaming. I was still alive. But I didn’t let go of my shoulder as I collapsed backward. Even my bed was wet.
I ignored everything but the only scar I had. The bumpy flesh cascaded over my shoulder and across my sternum, a steady tremor of my heartbeat radiating over the pain. The injury almost killed me. If it weren’t for Calhoun, it would’ve. He had sewn me up on his own, preventing my powers from healing too much, and he nursed me back to health for months. Every time my shoulder burned, I remembered seeing him for the first time. He saved my life without knowing what I was, and when he learned what I was, he saved it again by keeping me.
I returned the favor when he introduced me to Adam, when he bought us a house, when he left us alone, when we saved others. But the flock’s weight was getting heavier and heavier. I could barely breathe. I had to leave.
“Where will we go?”
I jumped only to calm when I saw him. Blake was sitting next to me, his blue eyes cutting through the darkness. He heard everything. By his widened eyes, he probably even saw my nightmare. It was something a kid should never see.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
His little brow furrowed too deeply for a child. “Are you?” He definitely saw it. All of it.
“I’m okay, Blake,” I said, fighting the urge to pick him up. My shoulder hurt too much. “You don’t have to worry about me.” When he didn’t respond, I added, “It was just a dream.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Apparently, he could decipher what he saw.
I kept my mind blank as I stood up. “Go back to sleep, kiddo.”
He clutched onto my leg, “Are you leaving?”
I forced myself to step away so he didn’t see anymore. “I’ll be back before you wake up.”
“I’m not sleeping.”
I looked over at the window I had covered with a black blanket. Sunlight pushed against the fabric. It was the afternoon. I remembered now. I had passed out while reading about the election.
“What are you doing up here?” I asked Blake, realizing he hadn’t been sleeping at all. He was only checking on me.
“It’s dinnertime.”
I sighed as I picked him up. He was heavy, much heavier than I remembered him being, and I shuffled him to my left arm where it didn’t hurt. Blake nuzzled his face against my neck as I reached over for a shirt. I didn’t speak as I left my bedroom and walked downstairs.
Michele was waiting. “How was your nap?”
“Can you take him?”
Michele took Blake without any complaints. The little boy didn’t complain as she sat him down. I threw on my shirt, then. She wouldn’t question the scar, but the others would. I had managed to hide it from most of them. Questions only caused problems.
As I walked over to the table, Michele said, “You need to sleep more.”
“A bad blood killed his family last night,” I told her about the article describing the reason for the child’s execution. A new article appeared every day. Sometimes, there were two. Or three.
“We can’t save them all.”
“We can try.”
“Daniel.” Michele sighed as we took our usual seats. The house buzzed with noise, but she didn’t bring up an argument. “We need a plan.”
I stared past her, unfocused and not quite awake. “Did you already talk to Adam?”
She nodded. “I know we can’t run,” she agreed with me, “but I also know we can’t fight.” Not with the younger ones. “You need to talk to Cal.”
“I’m going to tonight.”
She smiled. “I know.”
A red blur swooshed in front of my eyes, but it didn’t solidify until Adam stopped moving. His chair leaned against the wall, balancing on two pegged legs. “Don’t tell me you were going to leave me out of the meeting again.”
“It’s not a meeting,” Michele defended.
“Great.” Adam reached for the bowl of apples in the middle of the table. He had stolen more than one.
Michele slapped his hand away. “We’ll eat in a minute,” she said. “Ryne is going to help me cook.”
As if on cue, a teenager stumbled down the stairs, his dark hair bobbing behind him. “Ready?”
“If you are.”
He nodded, walking into the kitchen without talking to us. Aside from Michele, Ryne kept to himself. When Maggie had found him, we guessed he was six, but that would mean he was thirteen now. He looked older—almost the exact same age as Maggie—but I wondered if his scar added years to his face. It moved right through his nose and down his chin. He was lucky that was all the leftover damage he had.
Maggie found him with a homeless veteran as the man attempted to revive the boy. She convinced the man to give him up, and she brought him to me. He had a severe collision to his head, and I assumed he wouldn’t live when I used my abilities on him. I was wrong. He woke up, but he didn’t remember anything but his name. I suspected him of lying, but I didn’t question it, even though his stare held memories he didn’t talk about. Maggie sat with him a lot. They joined in the same year, and I knew little about both of them, but I understood Maggie’s biggest pain. She lost her older brother to the streets, and Adam had known him. When he found out about her brother’s death, he took Maggie in. Without Adam confessing to it, I knew it was gang related, and when I asked Adam where my best skinning knife disappeared to, I knew he had traded it for her. Even then, he denied it, and we didn’t speak about it again after that. Still, I half-expected she wanted Ryne because he reminded her of her brother, and I suspected she cared for Adam due to the events.
“So, wunt wer you talkin’ but?” Adam spoke with a full mouth as he chewed on an apple. Sadly, I understood him perfectly.
I told him about the article.
Adam swallowed his food. “The election is really getting to you, man.”
“It doesn’t bother me when I don’t think about it.”
“Everyone but Blake and I would fall for that,” Adam joked.
“Fall for what?” A small girl struggled her way into Adam’s lap before she leaned her bony elbows on the table. Our conversation was over.
“I’m not a chair, Tessa,” Adam lectured, but he didn’t move the child off him. Tessa was the only other member Adam had saved. It was how I learned he was involved with the gangs. Her father had been a member, but he couldn’t take care of the toddler. Adam took her in without even asking me.
The little girl didn’t budge from Adam’s lap either. “I can kill that apple if you don’t tell me.”
She wasn’t lying either. Despite her young age, Tessa’s powers had become vital to our survival. She could grow plants in a second, no matter the season, and she often kept our food supply up whenever it wasn’t safe to buy some. But she could also kill plants on command. She enjoyed that part more.
“That is cruel.” Adam chuckled before taking another bite. She tried to grab it, but he kept the apple in his mouth as he took her arms, stood up, and spun her around.
She screeched between her giggles before he let her down. “Go help,” he said, pointing his head toward the kitchen.
“Only if you play cards later.”
“Deal.”
She ran off without looking back, but Adam looked at me. “Say hi to the old man for me.”
Adam already knew I was leaving, and I nodded in response. As I walked to the front door, Michele ran out of the kitchen, “Don’t forget his jacket.”
I grabbed the coat off the snowflake lamp Michele left it on. “I won’t be long.”
“Yes, you will.”
I turned around to face the white-haired girl. She stood inches from me, but she took a second to speak again, “I’m sorry for being upset earlier.”
My stomach twisted. Adam must have told her about my decisio
n to keep Floyd, too. “You have the right to be upset with me.”
“Not now,” she disagreed. “Not with the election nearing.” We didn’t have time to argue. “Adam will help me with Floyd.”
“I’ll get more supplies from Cal.”
“Just be safe,” she said as her eyes flashed yellow. “It’s dangerous out there tonight.”
“Goodnight,” I said abruptly, leaving our house before I asked her what she saw. For once, I didn’t want to know about any more visions.