Another gust of wind blows through the trees. This time it carries more than a trace of smoke. It carries a dry heat that scorches the moisture right out of the air.
“They need rest,” I tell Ian quietly. “Or they won’t make it much farther.”
“I’m going as fast as I can, okay?” Blaine snaps.
I frown at him. “You’re doing fine. This isn’t just about you. We could all use a breather.”
“Just stay off my case.”
Ian looks at me sharply. Blaine has never talked to me like that. The pressure is getting to him. To all of us.
Jeremy hands me a canteen. I force down a few swallows before holding it out to Blaine. He doesn’t take it.
“Do you hear that?” he whispers, head cocked to one side.
Seconds pass. The only sound is the wind chiming through the trees and a low rumble of the fire headed toward us.
Blaine scrambles to face the woods behind him. “There it is again!”
I turn and catch a flash of movement fifty yards behind us. Charlie’s back before he disappears behind a tree.
Ian looks at me. I nod at his unspoken question. We haven’t told the others about Charlie yet. We didn’t want them accidentally tipping him off. But Blaine is half-terrified out of his mind, and it’s making everyone jumpy.
“It’s Charlie,” I tell them. “He’s following us.” It’s been nearly impossible to pretend he isn’t there. I’ve wanted to turn around so many times, but I just keep reminding myself that every step we take toward the river is a step closer to bringing Charlie in.
Blaine grabs my wrist. “For how long?”
I look down into his anxious face. The elation I feel at having Charlie close fizzles right out.
“Since the stream.” I tear my gaze away from Blaine’s gaping pupils. “He’s trailing us about sixty yards back.”
“So what’re we waiting for?” Jeremy takes a step forward.
“Don’t!” He turns at the sound of my voice. I force myself to lower it. “If we chase him, we’ll only drive him back toward the fire. We keep moving. Let him follow us to the river. Then we can grab him when he least expects it.”
Ian signals his agreement by starting off again. I match my steps to his and resist the urge to look over my shoulder. If Charlie suspects we’re onto him, it’ll make him that much harder to catch. I sneak a quick glance at Ian’s face. His jaw is clenched tight, and there’s a hitch in his stride. Every few minutes, he takes a sharp breath.
I want to ask him how his shoulder is, but this is Ian we’re talking about.
I save my breath.
The wind picks up, cloaking the scent of evergreen with the stench of burning timber. Already, the music of the fire has become the steady roar of an approaching train. If we don’t reach that river before it reaches us—
A sound cuts through my thoughts. A muffled cry.
Ian staggers and pitches forward.
He hits the ground with a thunk.
I drop my knees beside him. “Ian!”
Blood stains his lower lip where he’s bitten through the skin. His eyes fly open and I forget to breathe.
Even in the shade of the trees his pupils are twice as large as they should be.
He blinks once. Twice. Fighting hard for control. Always fighting. His gaze narrows on my face hovering over him. He relaxes. “It’s okay. I’m … Help me up?”
I reach under Ian’s shoulder and lift. He snarls, and we drop back down to the ground.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask, afraid to hurt him, but more afraid to let go.
Ian grits his teeth and pulls his shirt loose from the front of his body, revealing a nasty burn that runs from his collarbone all the way across his left breast. My hands go still on his arm.
“How many are there?” I ask him.
“I’m fine.”
“Like hell you are,” I snap. “You can’t even stand up without assistance. Answer the question.”
Jaw clenched, Ian uses his good arm to pull the shirt over his head. He fights the material for a few seconds, and then I can’t bear to watch him struggle any longer. I help guide the shirt over his head. I know it’s bad even before Becca gasps, but nothing could prepare me for the extent of the damage.
Ian’s body. A body that climbs trees and scales walls. A body that can build camps and fires, and still be so gentle when it wants to be. His body is ruined. Burn marks cover his back. His shoulders. His upper arms. A roadwork of vicious red welts scattered across the map of scars he already has.
“Why didn’t you say something?” My voice trembles with sadness and anger and a dozen other emotions that won’t fit neatly where I shove them.
“Because he’s a dumbass and a martyr, that’s why.” Anger fashions Jeremy’s words into darts.
Ian’s eyes flick to mine and quickly away. “What could you have done?”
“That’s not the point.” I move aside so Jeremy can do a quick inspection of the wounds.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“He’ll live,” Jeremy announces flatly, and keeps right on walking.
I help Ian up, and we press on toward the river, each of us fully aware of the fire closing in and the quiet shadow trailing us at a distance. Thick tendrils of gray smoke are working their way through the trees. After ten more minutes, Ian stops. I think it’s the burns again, but one look at his face tells me it isn’t pain that’s bothering him now.
“What is that?” I ask, because I feel it too.
“The wind,” Ian says. “It’s shifting toward us.”
“We’re all going to die.” Blaine’s assessment only adds to the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.
“The fire will spread faster now,” I say. “We have to keep moving.”
Nobody needs to be told twice.
As we walk, the wisps of smoke become billowing clouds of black that roll in over our heads, snuffing out the sun. It’s getting harder to see.
I’m leading the way around a giant boulder when Blaine calls out, “Wait!”
Despite the heat and the smoke scorching my skin, a shiver runs down my spine at his tone. There’s something off about it. Something distinctly not Blaine.
“What’s the problem now?” Jeremy demands.
Beads of sweat stand out on Blaine’s brow. “I … I…”
“Seriously?” Jeremy snaps. “Is it possible for you to be any more of a chickenshit?”
Blaine flinches. “Go ahead.” His voice quavers. “Keep calling me names.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended your precious snowflake feelings,” Jeremy snaps back. “I guess I’m overly focused on surviving the next ten minutes.”
“Shut up!” Blaine’s body is coiled tight enough to snap.
“Blaine. Please, we have to keep moving.” I take a step toward him but stop when I see the unmistakable glint in his dilated eyes.
I freeze in place.
“You heard her. Move your ass,” Jeremy says, unwittingly making things worse.
Blaine’s shoulders shake despite the heat all around us. “Don’t yell at me!”
“I wasn’t yelling,” Jeremy says. Blaine just cringes and presses his hands to his ears.
The darkness in his pupils swirls like ink in water.
Ian steps up to my side, the quiet tension in his body signaling his understanding without words. The dark pulse is wearing Blaine down. It’s probably been wearing him down for a while, only none of us noticed. He’s hovering right on the edge. We can’t afford for him to go over. Not with Charlie so close and the fire closing in.
I silently signal for Jeremy to back up. When he does, I step forward to take his place. “Whatever you’re hearing…,” I say. “Whatever’s bothering you, we’ll fix it. I promise, but right now, we have to move.”
Blaine’s lips twist in a grimace. “No. I don’t want to. I don’t want to.”
“I hear you.” I make my voice as gentle as I can. Blaine’s hurting
and scared. One wrong move could send him running. “I won’t force you. I’m just asking you. As your friend. Come with me. Please.”
A beat passes before Blaine’s shoulders slump. “All right.”
Nobody moves while I lead Blaine around the boulder. A pocket of fresh air waits for us on the other side. I devour it in greedy gasps. The rock forms a natural barrier from the smoke, letting me see clearly for the first time in minutes. I’m covertly scanning the woods behind us for any trace of Charlie when the sound of crying draws my gaze back to Blaine.
He’s standing a dozen yards from the rest of us, tears streaking through the dirt on his face. “They won’t leave me alone. Why won’t they leave me alone?”
“Who won’t leave you alone?” I ask, my hackles rising.
“The voices. The ones that have been following us.” His bottom lip quivers—a stark reminder that for all of his fierce intelligence, Blaine is just a kid.
He clasps his hands over his ears. “Can’t you hear them?” His words are a whisper.
I force myself to walk toward him slowly. I’ve cut the distance in half when a bird swoops between us. More follow, diving below the smoke line and filling the air with startled shrieks.
Blaine stares at the birds, his head snapping back and forth. Another flash of pain crosses his face. “You don’t know me. Stop calling me that! Stop calling me that!” His voice hinges on a scream. He clasps his hands over his ears again. Something leaks between his fingers.
Blood.
“What’s happening?” Becca whispers.
“Get him to the river,” Ian instructs Jeremy over her head. “We’ll deal with this there.”
Jeremy nods and approaches Blaine, who focuses in on him with raw terror. “Stop! Please!” he begs. Desperate. Small. “Leave me alone. Please, just leave me alone.” More blood drips down his scrawny neck. For every step Jeremy takes forward, Blaine takes two back.
My mind flashes back to that afternoon in the school parking lot, watching Blaine hide from a group of older boys out for his blood. The ugly bruise on his cheek. The way he looked at me, like his heart was steeled for rejection even while his mouth was asking for help. That damn book he carries around like a shield of armor, and the shy hope in his eyes when I said I’d be his friend.
I move toward him. “It’s not real. Whatever the voices are saying, it’s not real.” I say the words even though I don’t really believe them. The voices may be a figment of Blaine’s imagination, but the blood running down his arms is every bit as real as the fire headed toward us. As real as the Black Nothing that stole Charlie’s mind, the wasting that took Becca, and the burns on Ian’s back.
Blaine’s chest rises and falls like the beating of a bird’s wing. His glasses are gone, lost at some point. He backs up, and his spine slams into a tree trunk.
Another blast of hot air washes over us, carrying bits of ash and glowing embers.
“Let’s go.” Jeremy moves forward, but Blaine dances out of reach.
“No! I am not a loser. I am not a freak!” He wipes at his tears, leaving a bloody streak across his cheeks.
“Nobody thinks that. None of us would even be here if it wasn’t for you,” I say while Jeremy closes the distance between them. It’s down to a few feet when Jeremy lunges.
“Come on, man,” Jeremy grunts, making a grab for him.
“My. Name. Is. BLAINE!” The sheer volume of his outrage stops Jeremy in his tracks. We stand there, frozen, as Blaine starts to run.
Away from us and voices in his head.
Directly into the fire.
THIRTY-THREE
Blaine disappears into one of the inky black clouds ahead.
Swearing loudly, Jeremy yanks his T-shirt over his mouth and dives in after him. I follow, desperate to keep them both in my sights.
I can’t breathe. Can’t see more than three feet in front of my face. Everything is dark and swirling and hot. So hot. Jeremy vanishes into the gray haze. I strain to hear his footsteps, but the crackle of the fire has become a roar drowning out every other sound.
A light cuts through the smoke up ahead, outlining Jeremy’s body. My heart leaps when I see Blaine in his arms. He is fighting, kicking, clawing at Jeremy with everything he’s got. A wall of flames rises up behind them. A barrier of fire that reaches all the way to the sky. It’s less than fifty yards away and quickly gaining ground. The flames act like a sickness, shooting out from the wall, spreading through the underbrush to infect even more trees. The wildfire is every shade of orange and red and blue, beautiful in the way only truly deadly things can be.
I’m still staring at it, mesmerized, when a nearby tree catches fire. Flames shoot up the trunk, a thousand angry tongues lapping at the bark. The flames explode skyward, turning the tree into a blazing column. It rocks me sideways, directly into the person emerging out of the smoke.
Ian catches me with his good arm. Together we go sprawling across the charred earth.
Another tree goes up in smoke. This one closer. Ian throws his body on top of mine. Bits of debris and smoldering ash land on my arms, searing through the fabric.
Jeremy falls to his knees a few feet away. He’s still holding on to Blaine, trying to drag him below the smoke line. I scour the woods over Ian’s shoulder, searching for any sign of Becca or Charlie. There’s nothing but gray vapor in every direction. Ian must’ve sent Becca ahead to the river.
They’ll survive.
It’s the one thought I cling to as I haul myself up to my knees.
The smoke is everywhere. My tongue feels like cardboard. My mouth tastes of cinders and blood metal. Spots dance at the corners of my vision. The world is starting to go dark when Ian grabs my arm and yanks me down to a layer of breathable air just above the ground. Behind him, Jeremy is doing the same for Blaine, who is still struggling madly to get free.
Blaine’s nails rake down the side of Jeremy’s cheek. Embers dance through the air all around them like fire jewels, setting Jeremy’s uniform smoking. He bats at them with one hand while the other keeps Blaine firmly pressed to the ground.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” I yell over the growl of approaching flames.
The fire breaks toward us in a wall of flame, illuminating Jeremy’s face, streaked with dirt and terror. His eyes widen at the incoming blaze, but he just sets his jaw and turns his back on the flames. Jeremy’s legs falter when he lifts Blaine over his shoulder. I think he’s going to go down, but at the last second, he finds his feet. He starts to run.
Ian and I follow, cutting an angle away from the fire’s path.
I feel the river before I see it. A moist coolness that soothes my parched and aching skin. I draw in a clean breath. Then another. My lungs drink in the untainted sweetness. The low rush of water rises above the growl of the fire. Hope sends a fresh burst of adrenaline to my legs. We’re almost there when a loud thud sounds out behind me.
Jeremy and Blaine hit the ground. The impact sends them sprawling in opposite directions. I double back to help Jeremy up, but he shoves me off, coughing and clawing at his chest as if he could somehow dig out the soot he’s inhaled. Nearby, Blaine staggers to his feet, his black eyes spinning and locked onto the trees ahead.
“Blaine, stop!”
My warning comes too late. I watch Blaine sprint through a curtain of ferns. There’s a moment of terrible silence, and then a single scream echoes through the forest.
Dread twists my stomach as I claw my way through ferns to the edge of a ravine. It cuts through the land in front of us, two steep walls of dirt and rock covered in ivy and a layer of emerald moss that does nothing to blunt its sharpness. Thirty feet below, the river flows through the gulch framed by two thin strands of beach and divided by a sandbar in the middle.
My eyes snag on a spot of bright color against the dull sand.
For a moment, I can’t do anything but stare at Blaine’s body. Small. Motionless. The acute angle of his limbs not adding up in my mind. A sharp cry bri
ngs my gaze up.
To a lone buzzard making lazy circles in the sky.
* * *
The world collapses until it is no bigger than the sight of Blaine’s body lying broken on the ground.
The buzzard lands on the ravine floor, right next to Blaine’s book—the one written by his uncle, his hero—its neon pages scattered across the beach.
The buzzard hops closer. It stabs at the ground near Blaine’s head, releasing a wave of pure violence through me.
Kill it. I will kill anything that touches him.
The rage inside of me drowns out everything. The fire. My terror of the sharp drop in front of me. A scream tears from my throat as I throw myself onto the ground and over the ledge.
Ian makes a grab for me, but he’s too slow. I start to slide. My fingers dig into the dirt as gravity pulls me in a barely controlled fall down the side of the slope.
A ribbon of fear winds its way through my rage. Fast. I’m going too fast. Wind rushes past me, and my muscles burn as they try to keep me from tumbling head over feet.
A sharp rock looms directly in my path. I grasp for something to slow myself down. My fingers close around a stocky shrub. Pain wrenches my shoulders, but I manage to hold on.
“Rose! Stay where you are.” Twenty feet above me, Jeremy hefts himself over the ledge. A few yards below him, Ian is already free climbing down the side of the ravine. Angry burns roll and split over his muscles as he makes his way toward me one-handed.
I let out a shaking breath and look down. The ravine floor is less than ten feet below. Blaine is lying in the exact same spot. I can’t tell yet if he’s breathing.
I squeeze my eyes shut and let go.
The impact at the bottom sends shock waves through my limbs. Too stunned to stand, I crawl toward Blaine.
His left forearm is bent at an impossible angle. Blood stains his right shin, but thankfully, it looks more like a simple break than a compound fracture. With trembling hands, I reach for his throat.
Rocks spray the ravine floor, and then Ian is beside me.
Before I Disappear Page 24