Before standing with a lazy stretch, he unearthed a sharp stone and decided upon a knobby protrusion from an old oak as his target. After a few warm-up swings, Ret placed the rock into his sling, swung the rope in high-arcing circles until the perfect moment, and … There!
Ret released the launch, and the stone whisked through the air before hitting its mark with a solid thud. He smiled and loaded his leather pouch with more stones.
After a few more hits, the stationary target lost its appeal, and Ret skipped his remaining ammo across the surface of the river. As he gazed into the water, watching the final ripples shimmy away to the opposite shoreline, he heard the distinct bellow of a mama bear. Sophie must be out with the new cubs.
Ret had named the twin cubs Otto and Bo and had enjoyed a romp through the clearing with the boys on more than one occasion. He remembered how Sophie would reprimand her offspring with motherly grunts and decided to pay them a visit. He stooped to collect the bowl sitting at his feet knowing his furry pals would enjoy an afternoon treat.
Suddenly, another bellow filled the air, causing tiny bumps to rise on Ret’s forearms. He dumped the bowl and swiped an extra rock from the dirt, tossed it into his pouch and took off in the direction of Sophie’s wails.
As he raced along the river’s edge, Sophie launched another battle cry. If she was this upset, her cubs must be in danger. Ret broke into a full run, loading his sling as he followed the sound.
But when he reached the clearing, the cubs appeared safe, wrestling and rolling in the meadow as usual. Sophie, on the other hand, stood on her hind legs, knee deep in the river, with the rapids splashing up high on her furry form. Her cry of distress continued and Ret wondered if she’d been injured.
He slowed to a walk as he approached, clucking his tongue in a soothing manner. What had always worked in the past, however, didn’t seem to faze the mother bear. Once near enough, Ret assessed her from head to toe. No obvious wounds. She stood upright and strong, and bellowed again, filling the air with thick vibrations.
Ret’s gaze whipped along the raging river and a swatch of color caught his eye. Had someone fallen into the rapids? Ret knew the villagers opted not to enter the river this time of year claiming his sport of rapid riding to be a bit extreme. Yet, his gut—and Sophie—told him something wasn’t right.
He scanned the shoreline with Sophie’s desperate cries as a backdrop. On a nearby river rock, Ret saw a torn cloth clinging to the rock’s edge. His eyes darted from one rock to another while searching the foamy islands.
He saw her hand first. Laying casually on top of a boulder as if she’d simply stopped for a rest while swimming. Her body, wedged between the boulder and mass of sharp stones, lifted and dipped as the water passed over and under her form.
Like the rushing of the water before him, adrenaline cut through Ret’s veins. He thrust himself, waist deep, into the freezing water. Before he could even wonder what had brought Wolf into these dangerous rapids, the current yanked at his body. He carved a trail to the high boulder, the roar of the river drowning out Sophie’s wails.
The torrent labored to hamper his progress, but Ret pushed back. Would the ferocious waters dislodge Wolf, sending her downriver before he could reach her? His mind reeled with calculations—percentage of submerged mass in relation to the speed of the current—as if he could determine the number of remaining moments before she launched. She bobbed on the water’s surface, and Ret swallowed back lumpy fear. He reached out and lunged, catching her around the waist. Relief lasted a short moment, as Ret rolled her over to face the sky.
Her skin was ashen grey.
Ret looked back at the shore. Could he maneuver her back in time? He couldn’t risk losing a precious second. Instead, he hefted her limp body fully onto the boulder that had served as her temporary refuge. After crawling to her side, he placed a finger on her carotid artery, and a wave of relief exploded through him. He felt a feathery pulse—but she wasn’t breathing.
With a supportive hand beneath her skull, he pulled down on her chin, rolled her head back, and opened her mouth. Without hesitation, he performed as he had been taught. He covered her lips with his own, pinched her nose and sent a strong breath into her lungs. He watched her chest. No movement. He repeated the process.
No rise. No fall. He pinched off her nose, covered her mouth with his own and released another breath before sitting back on his heels.
“Come on, Rebel. Breathe!”
Chapter 3
FRAN
Beneath her lids, a blood-red landscape dotted with miniature white explosions shocked Fran into a strange realm somewhere on the brink of consciousness. A fire rolled through her insides and a rough presence roughly rolled her to her side a moment before liquid erupted from her belly.
A choking spasm sent her into a state of panic as she fought, unable to catch her breath, but a moment later, she rolled onto her back, and sweet oxygen refueled her lungs. She wheezed a raking breath and coughed as she tried to fill her lungs. More liquid gushed from her mouth, and she almost rolled from her perch, until a strong hand pulled her back and held her steady.
“You’re okay. Just relax and breathe.”
She recognized the voice.
Ret.
His firm grip pressed into her arm, and Fran registered pain. But before she could speak, her body began to convulse with violent tremors. What’s happening to me? She wanted to scream, but her jaw remained clenched as she warred to keep her teeth from rattling out of her mouth.
Snippets of scenes flashed through her head. Baby bear cubs … a ferocious growl … Something was missing. How did she get here and why was she so cold?
Next thing she knew, she was being carried by Ret. Her feet dipped into the swirling water, and she instinctively huddled into his warmth. While being carried like a baby, she somehow recognized that with Ret she was completely safe.
Chapter 4
RETTER
Ret pulled Wolf’s body close as he fought the rapids. Her shocked system needed more warmth than he could provide, but he offered what little heat he had. She coughed and shuddered as he moved through the current one slippery step at a time, testing the river bottom before applying his full weight. When the shore lay a mere fifteen feet away, Ret plowed ahead with unbridled determination and adrenaline-spiked power. Wolf had breath in her lungs, but unless he could stop her body from going into shock, the recovery would be for naught.
Once close enough to heave Wolf onto the grassy embankment, Ret relinquished his hold before squatting low to garner the leverage to thrust himself upward as well. The swirling waters tethered Ret to the river, weighing him down like a dense, unmoving boulder. He reached overhead and dug his finger into the soft ground. As the muscles in his back screamed in protest, he pried himself loose from the current and dragged his torso over the embankment. Rolling onto his side, Ret labored to catch his breath.
He lay face to face with Wolf who shivered and whimpered between coughing spasms. He had to warm her up or she’d die out here. A fire. He’d need to build a fire. Ret jumped to his feet and sprinted to the tree line, grabbed a handful of twigs and dried leaves. The flint he carried in his pouch was fully saturated and he scanned the shore for a dry stone. After locating a smooth grey flint and sparking the fire to life, he sprinted again to the tree line for larger kindling.
Upon returning, Ret dropped the meaty limbs and hollowed log from his shoulders and stood in amazement. If his lungs had cooperated, he probably would have bellowed in laughter at the odd scene before him, but instead, just shook his head as he walked forward.
Along one side of Wolf, lay Sophie, cradling the pale blonde girl as if she were a third cub. Otto and Bo sat opposite their mother, backs leaning comfortably on Wolf as they enjoyed an afternoon snack. Wolf, who lay cocooned in their warmth, seemed to be sleeping soundly.
As he approached, Sophie released a few motherly grunts before rolling to her side and moving onto all fours. Ret ruffled the fur
along her back as he passed by and squatted down next to Wolf. Her skin had perked up to her typical pallor, and her hair had already begun to dry in clumps around her face. Outside of a few cuts and scrapes along her arms, she looked fine. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and her lids fluttered.
Upon seeing mama bear, Fran’s eyes flew open and she sucked in her breath.
“No worries, Wolf. Sophie’s not going to hurt you.”
Ret reached over Fran to tousle the heads of Otto and Bo. “No. I’ve known Sophie since she was just a cub like these little guys.”
He looked down at Fran who stared wide eyed at him.
She opened her mouth, and in a voice even raspier than usual, she said, “You’re dripping on me.”
Ret laughed and moved to the fire. He arranged the thick limbs before taking a seat on the hollow log.
“So, what were you doing by the rapids?”
Wolf sat upright, and the cubs skittered way. “Just spreading my wings.” She eased her head from left to right and put a hand behind her neck. “Wow. Feels like I lost a brawl.”
“You were in a fight, alright,” Ret agreed. “But I’m pretty sure you won this round.”
Her bloodshot eyes held Ret’s gaze. “Thanks.”
Ret nodded.
She held out her hand and Ret grasped her forearm. She winced, but then gripped his back, and they shook in open-air fashion. “Please don’t tell anyone what happened,” Wolf said. “I’ll never be able to leave again.”
“I get it.” Ret nodded. “You gave me quite a scare, though, Wolf.” Suddenly exhausted, he leaned back on his forearms, grateful for the warm sun.
“Sorry ‘bout the scare,” she said. “And by the way, it’s Fran.”
“Do you know how to swim, Wolf?
“Sure,” she replied.
“Good. When the rapids calm down a little in the summer, I’ll teach you how to paddle around the currents.”
“Oh boy, can’t wait.”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on Ret, but with the warm sun and loss of adrenaline, all Ret could do was lay his head back and shut his eyes.
Chapter 5
FRAN
When Fran awoke, the sun sat high in a cloudless sky. The late morning rays had only peeked over the tree line when she’d closed her eyes, and panic and confusion circled her head. She barked the first word that came to mind.
“Ret?”
She rolled onto her side, crawled onto all fours, and waited for the world to stop spinning before standing on shaky legs.
“Ret?” She called out again, hoping he was nearby. She took a few tentative steps toward the tree line and as she did, a stone whistled past her head. Fran ducked.
Ret emerged from the trees. “Afternoon, Wolf.”
“What was that?” Fran rubbed the side of her head as if she’d been hit.
“A perfect shot.”
“You nearly killed me.”
“But I didn’t …” Ret arched a brow.
She hadn’t interacted much with Ret during this week as he was constantly tending to chores, splitting logs, or hefting heavy loads. Now he seemed more like a regular guy than a detached powerhouse. Warmth crept up her neck.
“Well, you almost did,” she huffed. She tossed her hands onto her hips and eyed him up and down. “Teach me.”
In a blur of movement, Ret swept a stone from the ground and loaded it into his leather strap. “Keep an eye on that low hanging branch.” With a lift of his chin, Ret motioned toward a drooping limb on a faraway tree.
Fran shook her head. “No way. Too far.”
He swung his sling through the air in a whirring circle, reminding Fran of the mega-fan in the air vents. A high pitched whistle preceded a hard thunk.
He turned and grinned.
Although impressed, Fran said, “Have you always been such a show-off?”
“Well, in truth,” he unearthed another rock, “I haven’t really had anyone to show off to.” He loaded the ammo, whipped the sling around, and after another thunk marked a hit, dropped his arm and lifted his gaze to Fran. “Until now, anyway.”
Fran snorted. “The only young guy out here.” She figured him to be her age, maybe a year or two older.
He pounded his chest. “The one and only.”
Fran rolled her eyes. “Not anymore, Tarzan.”
Ret laughed. “True. But I didn’t come from down there.” He nodded toward the ground.
As the banter continued, the cracking of twigs marked another visitor. Ret scooped a stone into his sling and readied himself for a launch just as Fran’s father emerged from the woods.
“Whoa. Don’t shoot,” he said.
“Sorry, Ian,” Ret said while dropping his stone.
Ian chuckled and held his hands overhead. “I come in peace.” He flicked his gaze to Fran and added, “Well, more peaceful than your mother, anyway.”
“Seriously?” she grumbled.
“Seriously, Fran. She’s up to her eyebrows in worry.”
“But—”
“I know, I know. You’re fine,” Dad said, “But your mother is going to need to see for herself.” Ian nodded toward the tree line.
Fran crossed her arms and looked down at her feet to avoid Ret’s gaze. She curled her toes into the grass and pulled at the blades before walking over to where her booties lay. Without a word, she laced them up, stood, and moved back by her father’s side.
Ian draped an arm over his daughter’s shoulder. “I can see I’ve missed a lot over the years.”
They moved toward the path and Fran peeked over her shoulder where Ret now stood using his sling to shoot rocks onto the water. To Fran’s amazement, the rocks skipped across the surface before sinking. Ret turned and gave her a wave.
Face burning, she turned away, and a moment later, Fran and her father were hidden in the woods.
“Really, Dad?”
“I have no doubt you are fully capable of taking care of yourself,” he said. “However, Sarah Frances, before you spread your wings outside, you need to understand the rules and the dangers.”
“Rules?”
“Of course, rules.” Ian said angrily. “Did you think we lived in a state of chaos out here?”
She really hadn’t given it much thought. After all, up until last week, she didn’t even know that out here existed.
Ian held Fran at arm’s length and when she finally got the nerve to look into his brown eyes, her father’s expression softened. “I know you’ve had a mind-blowing week,” he said. “And you have no idea how ecstatic your mother and I are to have you out of that place. Maybe this meeting will give you a better understanding.”
“Meeting?”
“Ben called it. He thinks you’re ready to know the truth.” At this, Ian turned and continued along the trail.
“Wait. Haven’t I already learned the truth? What more truth is there?”
Without another word, Dad led Fran along the same path she’d walked earlier. Her legs moved with a stiff, mechanical reluctance as she conjured up reasons for a mysterious gathering. She thought about the Council, and how they held the residents of the city in submission. What if this place was no different? And what about the lives of the Rebels lost due to her mega failures? She deserved to be punished, right? Thoughts of Folsom and Derrick’s horrific electrocution screamed “guilty!” and she followed her father, lost in a world of shame.
When they reached the cottage, Mom didn’t seem angry at all. She smiled at Fran and said, “Welcome back, my little adventurer.”
Fran rolled her eyes and looked at Dad. He just shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
“Sit down, Sarah Frances,” her mother said. Her gentleness made Fran’s nerves pull tighter, but she sat at the table where mugs and linens had been arranged for a larger group.
“Who else are you expecting?”
“Just Ben and Ema,” Ruth replied. She set a pot of hot water on the table.
Fran drummed the toe of her bootie onto th
e wooden floor waiting for the rest of the meeting to arrive. “Dr. Benjamin Leibin,” she muttered, and looked up to her mother.
“Mom, am I in trouble or something?”
Ruth placed a hand on Fran’s back and rubbed soothing circles.
“Hardly, sweetheart. We just need to navigate some otherwise tricky territory.”
“I feel like I’m on trial by the new Open-Air Council,” Fran said louder than she intended. Her mother’s hand stopped mid-air, and her father whipped his head around. They both wore weighty expressions. The silence lingered, and Fran felt heat rise to her face.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” Her voice sounded like a child to her own ears, which made her cheeks feel even hotter. Dad looked like he was about to say something, but then a light tap on the door frame announced visitors. Ema’s cheery voice called through the door.
Dad opened the door, and Ema entered, followed close behind by Ben. Or Doc, as Fran called him.
“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ema said. She placed a potted plant on the table and smiled as she stroked the petals of a white flower blooming in its center. Ben shook hands with Fran’s father.
“Isn’t she lovely?” Ema asked. “First bloom of the season.”
Mom put a hand to her mouth. “Curcuma Longa?”
“Yes. Nature’s gift of healing. My gift to you.” She winked at Fran. “Reminded me of our little Wolf. Newly budding and full of potential.”
Fran gazed at the foreboding face of the wolf tattooed on the back of her hand. Not a cute little cartoon character, but a wild and ferocious beast. Back in the city, she’d been a cagey lone wolf, not a whimpering baby cub as Ema’s comment seemed to imply. Apparently she couldn’t see the danger lurking beneath her skin.
“Have a seat, Ema, Ben,” Mom said, while pointing to the square table in the center of the room. A pair of wooden chairs sat on either side of the thick wooden table. Ema sat with a straight back, hands resting on her lap, and Doc slid in next to his longtime wife. Mom poured tea for the guests and Dad sat down next to Fran. As they contemplated and collected their thoughts, an uncomfortable silence grew.
Implanted (The Ascension Series Book 2) Page 2