“Trevor?” My voice bounces off the trees and comes whipping back at me. “Jeb? Erin?” Where are they? Did they all get sucked into the mountain?
I yell for them again, but there’s no answer. My body begins to shiver violently as the grief and the cold settles in. I start to cry, softly at first, but it quickly turns into a deep, guttural wail. I throw my head back and scream.
I failed. Nana is gone. Trevor is gone. There’s no sign of Mom, or Erin and Jeb—they must have gotten them, too. They’re all gone because of me. I curl up into a ball on the cold, hard earth, my body wracked with pain and guilt.
I’m not sure how long I lie there. I don’t want to get up. Something wet and cool kisses my cheek. My body shivers against the cold breeze that rushes over me, as even more frozen kisses caress my body. I look up to find light, white flakes of snow falling upon me. I sit up, my body heavy with fatigue, my head pounding. I have to stop moping. I can mourn later. Right now, I need to get us off this mountain before we freeze to death.
“Caity?”
I turn at the sound of Mitch’s voice, my heart leaping into my throat. It’s been so long since I’ve heard him say my name I can’t help but tear up. Abby rubs at her eyes, wrapping her arms around her small shoulders, her teeth chattering. I walk over to the kids and do a visual assessment. Other than a few scratches, they appear to be okay.
Mitch tries to stand and whimpers in pain. “My knee hurts.”
“Are you, okay?” I ask. “Can you walk?”
“Not really,” he says as he tries to take a step.
“Abby, can you help me with Mitch?”
She nods and then wraps her arm around his shoulders, letting him lean on her. He wraps his other arm around my waist, leaning on me as we attempt to walk. After a few steps, it’s apparent that this isn’t going to work.
“Mitch, I need to carry you,” I say. “Abby, can you walk okay?”
She nods again, still in a daze.
I hoist Mitch up onto my back, stumbling against his weight. It’s going to be a long walk off this mountain. He wraps his arms around my neck, and I reach out and take Abby’s hand.
“Why are we on the mountain?” Mitch asks. “Where’s Dad?”
“Dad’s at home,” I say as I try to figure out which way I need to go to get us out of here.
“Were we camping?” Abby asks, finally breaking her silence.
They don’t remember? How could they forget something like this?
“Yes, we were camping.” It’s an easier explanation than recounting everything they’d just been through. Maybe it’s better that they don’t remember.
“Where’s our tent?” Abby asks.
“It blew away.” It’s a lame explanation, but the only thing I can think of right now.
“Can we go home now?”
Could they maybe ask a few more questions? I try not to snap at Mitch as I turn in circles, trying to remember which direction I came in from. I don’t want to lead us off a cliff.
I move toward the old church and see a bird swoop down, landing on the ground in front of us. The crow gives a small caw, nodding its head as it hops across the ground. I move toward it and it jumps into the air and lands on the limb of a pine tree a few feet away.
I walk in the direction of the tree, and just as I get close, the crow flies away again. We continue this dance through the trees, down the rocky path.
The forest around us slowly starts to come back to life. An owl hoots, and the roaring of the falls rolls across the mountain, mixing with the whispering of the wind as it dances through the trees. The sounds seem much louder than usual. It’s probably because we’ve lived in absolute silence for an entire week.
As we walk into the clearing beneath the falls, the crow flies away, soaring above the trees. The ground evens out, and I stop when I think I hear someone call my name.
“There’s someone down there.” Abby points to the pool at the bottom of the falls.
“Cait? Is that you?”
I move toward the sound of Erin’s voice and find her and Jeb sitting next to the pool. Jeb stands and rushes over to me. I lower Mitch to the ground and embrace Jeb. He pulls away from me and I immediately lift his bloodied shirt, inspecting his chest. A faint scar stretches across his skin, but the wound is gone.
“Weird, huh?” he says when he notices the confused look on my face. “It just closed itself up.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Of course I remember what happened. How could I not remember that?”
I point at Abby and Mitch. They sit by the pool with Erin, scooping cool water into their mouths. “They don’t remember anything. It’s weird. They think we were camping. It’s the only thing I could think to tell them.”
“It’s probably better that way.” He places a hand on my shoulder, looking behind me. “Where’s Trevor?”
Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head. “He’s gone. I looked, but I couldn’t find him. I think they took him.” My throat catches and I stifle a sob.
“I’m sorry.” He wraps his arms around me, and I bury my head in his chest and let the tears flow.
“Caity, I’m cold. Can we go home?”
I look over at a shivering Mitch. Both he and Abby wear only the pajamas they were wearing the night they were taken. They have to be freezing.
“Come on. Let’s go home.” Jeb takes my hand and leads me to the others. Jeb agrees to carry Mitch since I’m so weak. He sure has a lot of energy for a guy who was just bleeding to death. Erin and I each take one of Abby’s hands and we begin our long descent.
The trek down the mountain is long and cold. The closer we get to town, the lighter the snow gets until it stops completely. By the time we reach the end of the trail, the sun has started to rise.
The smell of burning wood rolls out of various chimneys, greeting us as we make our way down Main Street. Lights have begun to snap on in the houses as our crazy, messed-up town prepares to settle back into normalcy.
Jeb’s old green Ford sits outside the general store where he’d left it a week ago. He places Mitch inside the truck and picks Parker’s stroller up off the ground. “I should probably take this to Bunny. She might need it.” A tear slides down his cheek, and I place a hand on his shoulder. I’m too exhausted to shed any more tears; otherwise, I’d be a sobbing mess.
He removes Parker’s car seat from the front and places it in the back of the truck. I slide in and place Mitch on my lap. Erin sits next to the passenger door with Abby on her lap. Jeb crawls in, packing us together like a can of sardines.
“This is cozy. And so not safe. Think we’ll get a ticket?”
I laugh at Erin’s joke as Jeb starts the truck. It roars to life and he flips on the heater.
As we rumble down the street toward Erin’s house, the heater finally kicks in and we all sigh as the warm air thaws our feet. By the time we’ve reached Erin’s home, the truck is plenty warm.
“Thank you for coming for us, Cait. I don’t know how you did it, but … ” Erin’s eyes fill with tears and she squeezes my hand. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you. You’re so brave. I’ll see you at school next week. Call me if you want to talk or hang out or something.”
I smile and nod, unable to speak. She thinks I’m brave? I didn’t do what I was supposed to do. Chas and Trevor are gone. Mom and Nana are too. I’m not brave. I’m a failure.
She jumps out of the truck and rushes up the steps of her house. Before she reaches the porch, the front door flies open and Mr. Simpson stares at her in surprise before pulling her in for a hug.
When we reach the Morgan’s, Jeb helps Abby to the door. When her mother sees her, she collapses to the ground, cradling her daughter in her arms. I watch as Jeb explains to her that Abby doesn’t remember anything. Mrs. Morgan gives Jeb a hug and turns to wave at me. She blows me a kiss of gratitude before leading Abby inside.
“Are we home?”
“Not yet, buddy. We will be soon.”
He curls up against me with his head on my shoulder and promptly falls back to sleep. Jeb climbs into the truck and puts it in gear. As the truck rumbles past Trevor’s home, a knot forms in my chest. The lights are on, and I can imagine the fear that will grip Mrs. Perkins when she realizes Trevor isn’t there. Because of me, both Trevor and Mason are gone. Dead. In one night, I’ve managed to rip an already fragile woman’s remaining family from her. What will she do without them?
I wipe the tears from my eyes as Jeb guides the truck down our driveway. I smile when I see Yancy sitting at the front door, her tail wagging excitedly. She gives a small yip and jumps to her feet. The house is dark. I’m sure my father is still passed out in the recliner, the effects of Nana’s sleeping spell not yet worn off. Jeb cuts the engine and we sit there for a while in silence.
“I can’t believe it’s over.” Jeb’s voice is soft and tired.
“I can’t believe we survived.” He laughs when I say this, and I offer him a weak smile.
“Are you going to be okay?”
I shrug, unable to speak because of the lump in my throat.
“I can stay for a while. If you want me to.”
He places a hand on my shoulder and I shake my head. “It’s okay; you should probably get home to your family. They’ll be happy to see you.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “My grandmother is going to freak out. She already thinks I’m a little hellion. She will think I’m so rotten, even the Redeemers didn’t want me.”
I laugh, and Mitch stirs beside me. “Hey, buddy. We’re home. You wanna go inside?”
Mitch nods as he rubs at his eyes. Jeb opens his door and hoists Mitch into his arms, carrying him to the front door. As soon as we start up the steps, the door bursts open. My father stares at us in disbelief.
Mitch looks up and smiles when he sees my father. “Hi, Dad. We were camping.”
Tears fill my father’s eyes as he reaches out and takes Mitch from Jeb, cradling him tightly against his chest.
“Dad! I can’t breathe.” Mitch struggles against him, but my father holds tight, looking at me and then at Jeb, a puzzled expression on his face.
“She saved us, Mr. Foster. Your daughter’s pretty badass. She needs a medal or something. And a really big allowance.”
“Can I get down now?” Mitch asks, struggling against my father’s embrace.
Jeb helps Mitch into the house, Yancy jumping at them as they step inside. My father and I stare at one another, his unspoken questions littering the air between us.
“How?” he finally asks.
“It’s a long story. A very long story. Mitch has no idea what happened. He thinks we were camping. It’s probably best … ” I let my words trail off when my father nods in agreement.
“Dad? Where’s Mom?” Mitch’s voice comes at us from the living room, and I realize that he doesn’t yet know that Judy is dead.
My father looks at me, and I shrug. I have no idea how to answer that question.
“I guess I should go talk to him.”
I nod in response and watch from the porch as he sits on the couch next to Mitch. I sit on the top step and look out at the dew-covered lawn as the sun begins to kiss the tops of the trees. Jeb walks out, closing the door behind him, and sits next to me.
“It’s my birthday today.”
I’d almost forgotten. “Happy birthday, old man.” I poke him with my elbow and he smiles.
“Chas’s birthday would have been tomorrow.” His voice catches and a tear slides down his cheek.
I wrap my arm through his and place my head on his shoulder. “It’s just the two of us now.”
I fight back against the overwhelming sadness that threatens to consume me again. I have to stay strong. At this moment, my little brother is inside learning that his mother is dead. He’s going to need me.
“What if they’re not really gone? Chas and Trevor I mean?” Jeb looks at me, a hopeful look on his face. “It’s possible, right?”
“You saw what they did to Chas.” A shudder runs down my spine when I remember the Council member that stabbed her in the chest. “And Trevor was … he was dead.”
“Do you know that for sure? Did you check for a pulse? He might—”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”
“But, maybe they’ll come back. Mason disappeared, and he came back.”
I realize that Jeb has no idea what Mason came back as, or that I killed him. Rather than tell him, I just stare at the ground.
After a lengthy pause, Jeb stands and brushes off his jeans. “I should probably go.”
“You should probably change your shirt before you go home. That one’s a little … dirty.”
He looks down at the blood and smiles. “Battle wounds.”
“Get out of here. Be careful driving home.”
He leans down and gives me a hug. “I’ll see you soon, Caity-bug. Call me if you need anything. And thank you. I don’t know what you did up there, but it was totally boss.”
I lean my head against the railing and watch as his truck backs out of the driveway. I sit on the porch and let the tears flow. I haven’t felt this much pain since my mother died a few weeks ago. Then, to have her come back into my life, only to be ripped away again, along with my best friend and the boy I loved … I don’t think I can endure this. I turn when the front door opens behind me and my father steps out onto the porch.
“Is he okay?”
Dad shrugs and wipes a tear from his face. “I told him she was in a car accident and that she didn’t make it. I think he’s still trying to process everything. I ran him a bath and he’s in there now.”
I nod in response. That was probably the best thing to tell him.
“Do you want some breakfast?”
I shake my head, not looking at him. “No thanks. I’m not really hungry. I think I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”
He turns and walks back into the house, and I stand to follow him. I stop when a loud caw catches my attention. I turn to see a crow sitting on the railing at the edge of the house. It bobs its head and then drops what appears to be a rock onto the porch. It gives me one last caw and then flies off, circling the trees before it flies into the morning sun.
I walk over and pick up the rock and gasp when I realize it’s not a rock at all. It’s my pendant. I pick it up, grasping it tightly in my hand, the warmth of the protection spell immediately calming me.
“Mom?” I know she’s here. She has to be. I wait for her voice, closing my eyes, willing her to speak to me. It doesn’t come.
I place the pendant around my neck and run a weary hand over my face. I’m exhausted. I need sleep. I glance up at the distant mountain one last time, sending a silent goodbye to Trevor and Chas. Birds begin to flit about the naked branches of our trees, offering up a morning song. A couple of squirrels dart about the yard, scavenging acorns, and a cool, gentle breeze passes over me. Slowly but surely, Highland Falls will return to normal.
Just as I’m about to go inside, the sound of crunching gravel and the low rumble of a motor fills the air. I turn, expecting to see Jeb’s truck, thinking maybe he forgot something. I freeze when I see the familiar black Mercedes pulling into the drive. I want to think I’m seeing things, that maybe my extreme state of exhaustion is messing with my mind.
I shrink back against the door, my eyes trained on the car I’d hoped I would never have to see again. My stomach drops when the door opens and Jonah steps out. He removes his sunglasses, squinting against the morning light. A caw pierces the air and he lifts a hand, finger outstretched. A crow flies toward him, landing on his finger.
My heart begins to poun
d and my breathing becomes erratic. I want to scream for my dad, but my voice doesn’t work. He takes a step in my direction, stopping when I hold up a hand, palm out.
“You made it.” He nods approvingly, and a smile spreads across his face. “I knew you would.”
Acknowledgements
What a crazy journey this whole publishing business is. I have to start with a HUGE thank you to Georgia and the entire Month9Books crew. Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d almost given up. You saved this book from obscurity.
Thank you to my amazing editor, Lindsay Leggett. You lit the path for me and led me toward a much more solid story.
I also need to send a sincere thank you to Dani at Refracted Light Reviews and Giselle at Xpressoreads. These ladies are two of my favorite bloggers and were kind enough to read a very early, very rough draft of this book when it was still called Redemption. Your feedback helped immensely.
Thank you to Jordan Dane who has always encouraged me, mentored me and kept my head above water. Thanks, lady. You’re the best!
As always, thanks to my family and friends (there are far too many of you to list here) for dealing with me and letting me be weird. Were I forced to be normal, I think I’d explode. I love you all.
I have to give an extra special shout out to “Scooby” and “G” for being my support team at the day job, and another to my dear friend Erin for letting me make her a character in my book. You guys are the best.
Writing acknowledgements always causes a great amount of anxiety because I’m terrified I’ll forget someone. So, to cover all my bases, I’ll say this: If you read this book and do not see your name here, consider yourself thanked. Because, honestly, what good is a book if no one reads it?
O’DELL HUTCHISON
O’Dell was born and raised in a small rural town in Idaho. There were no Redeemers living there (that he knows of). After attending college in the Pacific Northwest, he found his way to the Houston area. By day, he is an IT Training Specialist and at night you can either find him sitting at home, dreaming of random super powers he wishes he had, or directing plays and musicals at various theaters around Houston.
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