“Thank you, Elle,” Alex said, leaning back in his chair, hands shoved in his pockets. “I had a nice birthday.” Beau held up a corner of his wool blanket in offering, but Alex shoot his head and ruffled the hair on Beau’s head.
“Did you really, or are you just saying that? You won’t hurt my feelings.” Birthdays were so personal, it was difficult to tell.
“The casserole was just like my grandma’s,” he said, clear sincerity in his voice. “Less burnt, thankfully. She forgot about it warming in the oven most of the time.”
“I’m happy you liked it, Alex.” He never talked about his family, but I could hear the affection in his voice when he spoke of his grandma. “Were you close with her?”
He pried his gaze from the fire and looked at me. “I stayed with her in between families sometimes. I slept on her couch and she’d make me breakfast, on her good days. She had emphysema, and other health stuff.” He pulled his blue beanie off his head and turned it around in his hands, remembering. “She made me one of these too. They evicted me, we’ll say, from a family I was living with and I couldn’t take it with me . . . I don’t know what ever happened to it.” Alex was only eighteen and yet entire lifetime shone through his eyes shimmering.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie breathed. Alex stirred from his thoughts and looked at her, smiling. “It is what it is. I got a new one though.” His smirk grew, and he pulled it back over his head. He had a charming smile, especially when he was deflecting.
“We practiced first,” Thea said, yawning again.
Alex’s eyebrows rose. “Did you?”
“I know,” I said, “it’s hard to tell.”
“It’s perfect. I like things that are a little off-kilter,” he said with a smirk.
Alex was a conundrum. He had a sketchy past, exotic looking tanned skin, dark broody eyes, and a killer smile that probably made all the high school girls swoon, but he was stoic and sweet, too. Despite a life of disruption, he was solid, more than I was at his age, and I commended him for that.
A wolf howled off in the distance and Thea blinked her eyes open and straightened. “They’re back,” she breathed.
When another wolf howled in response, and Beau looked at me. It was like he wanted to say something, but he looked at his sister then back at the fire. I told myself the wolves weren’t closer than I’ve heard them in the past, their howls were only louder in the still night air.
“Good thing Jackson built a fire,” Alex muttered, but he seemed on edge too, staring out in the darkness.
“That’s my cue,” Sophie said, unfurling her legs and climbing to her feet. “You want to come?” She looked at Thea.
Thea scooted out of her chair in answer.
“I’ll go too,” Beau said, and tossed the broken twigs in his lap into the fire.
“Goodnight,” I said as they filed into the house.
“Night,” they murmured and the back door shut behind them.
I heard Jackson in the house, and the backdoor opened again. He was a dark shadow in the doorway as he stepped out into the firelight. His hair was loose and hanging around his face, dark and wavy. His unshaven face was more groomed, I’d noticed earlier, and I liked the goatee and beard that darkened his jaw.
“Alex,” he said, walking over to him. Jackson lifted the rifle strap off his shoulder and handed it to Alex. “For you. Happy birthday.”
Alex’s eyes opened wide, his mouth gaped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You’re shittin’ me.” He stood up, taking the rifle in his hands like he wasn’t sure it was real.
“I’m not shitting you,” Jackson said, a smile in his voice. He looked at me and winked. “You deserve it, man. You’ve been beyond helpful, and I know you’ll appreciate and respect this.”
“I will,” he said and held out his hand.
Jackson took it in his and they shook.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now you can help Elle keep everyone safe when you guy head for Hartley.”
“For sure.” Alex sat down, the rifle in his lap, and Jackson came to sit in the chair beside me.
“Your gift if was cooler than mine,” I told him. “I’m jealous.”
“What are you talking about,” he said. “I wish it was my birthday so I could have a handmade hat.”
I laughed. “Sure.”
“I’m serious, my ears get cold sometimes.”
I shook my head. “You already have a beanie.”
“So did Alex.”
“Touché.”
Jackson settled into his chair. “He’ll need it,” he said.
“You know,” Alex said. “Five months ago, I couldn’t wait for my eighteenth birthday. I would leave my piece of shit uncle and the system behind and never look back.” He looked down at his hands. “Now . . . it’s sort of hard to remember it all, it’s like a dream.”
“Because you’re living a nightmare?” I mused.
Jackson and Alex chuckled, and we settled into a comfortable silence. The crackle of the fire was soothing, the lights above mesmerizing. Sometimes I wondered how a place this beautiful could be so perilous at the same time. We’d had whiteouts and blizzards, and worried about freezing to death only once in the past five months, and we were lucky that was it.
“I’m gonna head to bed,” Alex said. “Thank you again,” he said, looking between us. “Tonight was nice.”
“You’re welcome, Alex,” I said, snuggling deeper into my coat.
“We still on for tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Jackson.
Jackson nodded. “When the sun comes up.” Alex nodded, pulled the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, and grabbed a discarded blanket off the chair. “I’ll leave you the chocolate, just in case,” he said with a wink.
“You know me so well.” I smiled. “Sleep well.”
“Night kid,” Jackson said, leaning forward to warm his hands over the fire.
“Night.” Alex stepped onto the porch and disappeared into the house.
I looked at Jackson, a sense of unease washing over me. “You’re leaving tomorrow?” I asked. I knew he’d planned on a supply run soon since we were leaving in a couple weeks, but I hadn’t realized it was so soon and that Alex was going with him.
“Yep, I figured Alex should go with me, get a feel for the roads and what to look for since you’ll be heading to Hartley.” His deep tone was worrisome.
“What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “You mean aside from the ordinary? Nothing, I guess. I just—I want you guys to be as prepared as you can for whatever comes next.”
It made me sad to think about leaving him, but I was grateful how much thought he’d put into all of it. “Thank you, Jackson.”
His eyes drifted to mine. “You guys will be okay,” he said. “You’ll have a tribe again, not just a band of misfits.”
I sighed, content. “I kinda like our band of misfits.”
“Me too,” he murmured; his was a baritone in the still night. “It was really nice what you did for the kid tonight, Elle.”
“The kids needed something special to celebrate.”
“That’s the only reason?” he asked. The flames jumped in the fire pit, the wood crackled. Jackson’s gaze heated the side of my face, waiting.
I picked up my cold cocoa, my mouth suddenly parched. “I’ve always hated birthdays,” I admitted. “They were always a disappointment.”
“You didn’t get what you wanted?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. Birthdays come with too many expectations—expectations that someone needs to care about your birthday to begin with; that they need to do something special to mark the occasion even if you don’t want to; but there’s also the expectation that someone will do something for you, even if it’s small and trivial, and there’s the disappointment when they don’t. And you never know what strings are attached.”
Jackson’s brow furrowed. “There aren’t supposed to be strings
attached at all.”
“Not in my family.” I took a sip from my mug. “I guess I needed to prove that’s not true anymore.”
His eyes glittered in the firelight, and his gaze trailed the contours of my face, making my insides warm a little. A hopeful feeling that scared me burned just below the surface.
Jackson looked away, clearing this throat. “You’re a good person, Elle. Alex and the kids are lucky to have you.”
It was surprising to hear him say that. “I know it will be hard, but I feel lucky to have them. I failed my sister and somehow I inherited a bigger family.”
“You didn’t fail your sister, Elle . . . There was nothing we could’ve done differently.” He could barely say the words.
“Are you reminding me or yourself?”
Jackson let out a deep breath. “Both.”
We sat in silence for a few moments. I was about to put out the fire when he said, “You’ll be okay here with the kids?”
I waited for him to continue.
“While I’m gone, I mean. Since Alex is leaving with me, I want to make sure you feel comfortable with that.”
No, I didn’t, but not because I didn’t think I could handle the place a couple days on my own, but because I knew what would come after they returned. “We’ll be fine,” I promised. “Besides, I need to get used to running things on my own anyway. Soon I won’t have a choice.”
Jackson blinked, hesitating before he spoke. For a moment, I thought he might ask us to stay with him in Whitehorse, but then he nodded. “I guess you’re right.”
Standing, I exhaled my unwarranted disappointment and shoveled a pile of snow to put on the fire. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow, we better get some sleep.”
Chapter 29
Elle
Thea and I hung laundry on the line outside the house, enjoying the sun on our faces and the woodpeckers looking for grubs in the early afternoon. Like last night, the skies were clear, and the sun was warm, a welcome break from the clouds and cold.
“Do you think Alex and Jackson are on their way back yet?” Thea asked clipping her seventh clothespin on her jacket.
“I don’t think so. It’s only been three hours, and it takes nearly four to get to Delta Junction.” I put my hand out. “Can I have another pin please?”
She scooted closer so I could remove one from her jacket.
“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to help me,” I muttered, and she giggled in reply. “Will you at least hand me the rest of the wet socks from the basket?”
“Yep!” she tweeted with a bounce.
“Thank you—”
“Elle!” Beau shouted as he ran out of the house.
“What?” I spun around.
“Sophie’s crying,” he said, stopping on the porch. “She won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
I dropped the linens into the snow and jogged for the house. I knew something was wrong, she’d been distant for days, and I’d been dumb enough to give her space like she wanted.
Beau opened the door for me and I hurried through the house and up the stairs. I could hear her body-wracking sobs from the hallway before I opened the bedroom door.
“Soph?”
Her face was blotched with red and wet with tears as she shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore,” she said.
The entire world seemed to stop, as my heart racing, nearly beating out of my chest with alarm. I hadn’t suspected her depression was as bad as this. “Soph,” I breathed. “Don’t say that. We’ll figure this out.”
“You don’t understand,” she said inching away from me the closer I drew to the bed. “You can’t touch me, no one can touch me.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?”
“I can feel it, inside me—in my head,” she cried. “I see it in my dreams—”
“See what Sophie? I can’t help you if I don’t understand.” I couldn’t help the desperation in my voice, the rising fear.
She inhaled a jagged breath and looked at me. “Everything.”
Tears filled my eyes as I sat on the edge of her bed. I wanted to reach for her, to comfort her, but she balled herself against the wall, desperate to be left alone. I felt helpless as her body tremble, and there was nothing I could do.
“I know,” she bleated and looked at my gloves. “I know why you wear them and what you’ve done.”
My concern turned to dread. “I don’t know what you—”[LL70]
“I know what you can do—like your fire burns inside you, something twists inside of me.”
I gripped the blankets balled up in front of me to keep my hands from shaking. “How?”
“I’ve seen it,” she whispered. “I’ve felt it.” And it horrified her.
“I would never hurt you, Sophie,” I rasped, barely able to speak. “I promise you.” But just like Sophie knew what I’d done, she knew I couldn’t promise something like either.
“I will figure it out,” I told her, desperate.
But Sophie wasn’t listening. She stared through me, at nothing, lost in a memory that only she could see. “I know how Alex got the scar on his eyebrow, what it felt like to be shoved through the glass.”
My grip tightened on the blankets as understanding sank in.
“Jackson . . .” She ran her hands over her face and through her hair, swallowing on her sorrow. “I don’t want to see it anymore. I don’t want to feel it—” She broke into sobs again.
I moved toward her but her hand went out to stop me. “Don’t touch me, I only feel it when people touch me.”
I looked at my hands. For months I’d been hiding the strange thing inside me, and for months I’d thought I was the only one. “How long have you been seeing these things?” I asked her. “How have we not known[71]? You should’ve told me, I would’ve understood. I would’ve tried to help you—”
“I thought I imagined it at first, the feelings—that I was dreaming them. But I can’t stop them anymore.” Her voice was rising again, and she buried her face in her hands. “I just wanted it to go away . . . I thought it would go away . . .”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said, grasping for a semblance of comfort. We’ll talk to the others—we’ll figure it out.”
Sophie looked at me, a knowing glint in her bloodshot eyes. I would have to tell Jackson what I’d done, and everything would change after that. [LL72]“We’ll tell them and we’ll figure it out,” I promised. I hedged on the edge of the bed. “Do you hear me? We will.” Fire and telepathic memories were different, but in my gut, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence she suddenly became psychic or whatever it was she was experiencing, not when my physiology differed from it had been before.[LL73]
“I’m so sorry, Sophie. If I would’ve known I would’ve been more careful around you, we all would have.” I felt naked sitting beside her, a thousand question marks floating in the air between us. I didn’t know all of what she’d seen, every single memory? Every feeling I’d ever had? Now wasn’t the time to ask though. She needed space and rest to process her own feelings instead of everyone else’s.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Wrapping her arms around her knees, she rested her head on her knees. “No,” she said so quietly I barley heard her.
The floorboards creaked in the hallway and two little munchkins stood scared in the hallway.
I glanced at Sophie, uncertain if I should let them come in. Her face was puffy and swollen, but she managed a smile. “You can come in,” she said with a sniffle.
Beau lead Thea in, her hand in his and they stopped beside the bed. “Are you okay now?” he asked. While he’d been strong and brave for his sister, I could see the damp skin beneath his eyes.
“I’m better,” she said, patting the mattress on the side of her. “You can sit with me.”
Beau climbed up onto the bed, sitting up against the wall, and Thea climbed up into my arms.
“What’s wrong with her,” Thea asked, as though S
ophie couldn’t hear her.
“She’s sad,” I explained. “She said because we’re sad.”
Thea and Beau looked at me. I knew it wasn’t as simple as that, but if Sophie could feel our fear and sadness, she could feel our happiness too.
“Why don’t we take turns sharing our happiest memories,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“I have a lot of funny memories,” Thea said with approval.
“Good, then why don’t you start.” I nodded an encouragement at Thea and glanced at Sophie. She sighed and mouthed a thank you.
I nodded by my mind was drifting. Sophie knew what I could do. So, what else did she know because we couldn’t be the only ones, could we? What else could people do? I peered down at the kids wrapped sitting wide-eyed and worried beside Sophie.[LP74]
As Thea launched into a story about her first kitten named Arnold, after her grandpa, I knew in that moment the next time I saw Jackson would likely be the last. When he returned, I would finally tell him the truth.
[LL75]
Chapter 30
Jackson
The roads were clear, the snow melting and easier than I expected on the drive to Delta Junction. But as it came into view, I was glad. I needed to stretch my legs and take a leak, and Alex was dozing.
“We’re here,” I said, slowing just outside of town. I pulled the truck into the tree line off the road, knowing the rumble of an F-350 through town was not the attention we needed.
“Do you think anyone’s here?” Alex asked through a yawn. He’d woken up even earlier than Thea’s morning banging through the house.
My gut instinct was to say no, but instincts could be wrong, and chances were probably yes. “I guess we’ll find out.” I pushed open the door and climbed out. “We’ve got four or five hours of daylight left. Let’s get our things, and make our way to the airlift, it’s closest. They’ll have medical supplies we need there. And we can decide where to hit next. We’ll look for a lodge to stay in on the way, something on the outskirts.”
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