Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves

by Richard M. Heredia

  He stared at her. All else around him ignored. His eyes were for her alone.

  That was when she opened hers, slow, questioning. They were deep and dark eyes, peering up into his own, just like he knew they would be. They had dilated and were heavy with exhaustion.

  “Where am I?” she whispered through a croak, her throat not quite cooperating.

  “You are safe now, and with friends. You can rest and not worry,” soothed Andrew, speaking just as soft as she had, resting his hand against the side of her face. “Rest,” he repeated as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, nestling deeper into his embrace and appeared to fall asleep.

  Surprised filled him when she mumbled, “I thought I was the only one…” And then, she went silent.

  He was still staring at her when Louis came near, peering through the metal, crisscrossed bars of the shopping cart. He asked, tentative, “Is she feeling any better?”

  Without looking away from the girl, Andrew replied, “I think so, she just opened her eyes for a few moments and spoke. Now she seems to be sleeping like normal.” He glanced at Louis, and saw a relieved grin rush across the young boy’s round face. He could not help but feel allayed by boy’s sincerity and concern.

  “That’s good,” added Louis. He peered ahead for a second, taking a large breath, exhaling through his mouth. He turned back to Andrew some of his former stress had vanished in the biting wind. “She sure is pretty, huh?”

  Andrew’s smile was broad, chuckling under his breath. “Yes, she is,” he retorted. The thought sank deeper, matured. Of a sudden, he conceded more to himself than he ever thought possible. There was no more illusion, not anymore. “I like her. She’s so small and still made…right.” His thoughts drowned out his surroundings. Andrew did not hear Louis’ giggle.

  The boy covered his mouth with his hand and jiggled with laughter like a bowl full of Jell-O.

  Andrew was oblivious. He had not realized he had spoken aloud. She is just right, he thought, wondering if he had ever felt this way about a girl before. He knew he had lusted after girls just as any other growing boy of his years would, but that had nothing to do with his feelings. Those basic motions were nothing like the ones he was experiencing now.

  I wonder what her name is.

  “I think she is gonna be fine, Andrew,” said Jason from the opposite side of the cart.

  Again, the Chinese boy startled him out of his reverie. He turned to look at the other teen. His lips crooked. He hoped Jason had not caught a whiff of what he had been thinking about, hoping he been able to keep his thoughts from etching across his face.

  “Her color is coming back. That has to be a good sign, right?” Andrew responded. His intent was to throw the other boy off just in case he had indeed seen something Andrew had not intended him to.

  “Yeah, that’s a good sign, so now you don’t have to stare at her quite so much,” replied Jason with a smirk.

  Ah shit, thought Andrew.

  Louis giggled a second time.

  “She is pretty though, I’ll give you that,” went on the Asian teen.

  Andrew knew for certain his newfound friend had not missed a thing.

  He never seemed to.

  What a douche!

  And yet, as he glanced down at the young woman in his lap, all else – once more – blew away like it had during the Rending. All that was left was her… and him.

  It felt like coming home.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 19 ~

  Happier Times

  Day Four, Sunday, 9:55am…

  Louis took his hand from his mouth, dividing his attention between walking and not falling on his butt. Still, he managed to look at Andrew. How he did so, not even he could say.

  The older boy continued to stare at the tiny girl he held between his spindly legs.

  Louis placed his hand on the side of the cart and entwined his fingers around the thick metal wires to steady himself. The snow was beginning to accumulate on the road in thickening layers as time passed. It was becoming harder for him to maintain his balance.

  Aside from that though, he felt compelled to look on, intrigued by his friend’s response to the undersized girl in his grasp. Louis had never seen anyone change as dramatic (or as drastic) as had Andrew, and right before his eyes. The older boy had always seemed antsy to Louis. From the first time he had met him, Andrew was always full with anxiety like he had bugs in his underwear. He seemed to want to be anywhere except where he was at that given moment. Andrew had seemed forever on the cusp of furious activity, restrained by the most tenuous of threads. He seemed consumed with what was coming next, what they were going to do next. He was always the first to ask what was going to happen after that. He hardly ever sat still and was never content to wait.

  Louis had thought it a part of his nature, the way God had built him.

  Until now.

  The moment the lanky boy had laid eyes on the diminutive girl, gathered in Sophie’s arms, he had changed. At once, he became an economy of motion. Once Sophie placed her into his care, Andrew had transformed even further.

  Louis could not fathom how it was possible. He failed comprehend how seeing or holding a girl could have such a profound effect on his fellow Guardian… or anyone else for that matter. There was no reason capable of explaining the alteration in detail. Louis understood the girl was nice looking – miniature - but a pretty girl nonetheless. But so were Hyun and Kimberly, even if she was a little scary at times. And, of course, there was no denying Sophie was just as beautiful as any girl he had ever seen. Why hadn’t those pretty young women caught his eye? What was so special about the tiny teen in his friends’ arms? It all did not add up.

  Heck, even Elena and Mikalah are cute! So, what is going on?

  The wind gusted - harder, longer and colder.

  Nonetheless, Louis felt warm inside. Andrew’s reaction to the girl, had stirred something within. It was a condition untouched by the precipitous drop in temperature.

  The snowstorm was beginning to dominate conditions about the land. He did not feel its’ icy grip as it grew ever stronger, all the more invasive.

  He held on as the cart whisked over the snow. He tried to keep pace with Kodiak’s huge steps as she sauntered forth, plowing forward with little exertion.

  She was completely unencumbered by her burdens.

  He tried to pick up the pace, but stumbled, trying to regain his footing. Instead he tripped, dragged along for a few of Kodiak’s long strides.

  He felt Joaquin grab him under the arms a moment later. And then, the wrestler placed him upright.

  He was about to thank him when he tripped again. He would have fallen to the ground if the teenage boy had not caught him a second time, swooping him up in his arms like he was a toddler.

  Joaquin called, “Hey, Anthony!”

  The other boy looked up, but did not break stride. “What?”

  “Hey, dude, don’t you think we should put the three small ones in the other cart? It looks like the snow is making it hard for them to walk!” came the answer.

  Louis watched as Anthony looked at his sisters, who were both nodding at him from their position with the bigger girls. He spoke to them, though Louis could not hear what they were saying over the wind. He couldn't even hear the nonstop crunching of their footfalls as they trudged onward.

  A few heartbeats later, Anthony pointed toward Joaquin. The girls nodded they understood. Both of them grabbed one of their brother’s hands and together they increased their speed. In a few strides, they caught up to where Joaquin was walking with Louis in his arms like a plump, giant-sized babe.

  “Good idea, Joaquin. Just plop them all in the cart like you said,” agreed Anthony. “I’m also thinking of picking up the pace a bit. We have to get out of this weather before it gets any worse. What do you think?”

  Joaquin walked Louis to the other cart and placed him in it without any issue. He turned to peer through the murky day. “Yeah, man, let
’s get out of this crap!”

  Anthony gave him a “thumbs-up”, motioning for those nearest to him to pick up the pace.

  Joaquin was quick to snatch up Anthony’s sisters. He placed them into the cart next to Louis.

  The group continued walking.

  Louis detected a new sense of urgency about them. The need to get to the mall seemed to urge them on. Ill thoughts of the oncoming storm crept into the back of their minds and took root.

  Thank God, this is one of those Costco-sized shopping carts, said Louis to himself. He edged his pudgy frame toward the back of the cart, giving the girls more room.

  Though they did not seem to need it, the space within their new confines proved more than adequate to house them. Comfortable, they sat in the same manner as him, on their rear ends with their legs bent, knees bunched up before them.

  The three of them exchanged grateful looks, having to keep up with the larger members of their party had been difficult.

  The idea amplified a moment later when they felt an abrupt increase in momentum. The pace of the entire group increased from a steady walk to a fast trot.

  Both Louis and the girls turned to look ahead, their eyes just able to see over the topmost metal rung of the cart. Kenai’s immense rear end flexed and un-flexed as the length of her stride extended and their speed became even faster. They could see large wakes of snow flying at either side of them. The cart was displacing it at a much swifter rate than before. Their view of the cart next to them, the one holding Andrew and the Twelfth Chosen, was less distinct, almost blurred because of it.

  “This is kinda fun!” hollered Louis over the din.

  Elena, who was closer to him than her sister, smiled in an attempt to match his enthusiasm, though her eyes did not echo it.

  To Louis, she appeared a little uneasy at hurtling through the snow, upon an uneven surface, at speed.

  Mikalah did not seem to have heard and was looking to either side of them. She was trying to figure out where they were.

  Louis did the same and realized they were going uphill now and had been for a while. They were already a third of the way up the entire incline.

  “We should see the mall soon,” he declared in a loud voice, trying to be reassuring.

  “Yeah,” replied Mikalah with a yell of her own. “I think we’re pretty close to where Sizzler used to be.”

  Louis bobbed his head up and down, recalling. The girl was correct. “I think it was just over there,” he said, indicating a patch of unremarkable forest off to their left, about fifty feet up the trail still. He knew exactly where it should have been.

  He saw Elena staring back at him, her eyes unwavering.

  “Did you ever eat there, Louis?” she inquired. Her eyes were big. She was trying to control her fear by starting a conversation. Without realizing, she rubbed at her bruised shoulder every now and again.

  Louis went into himself, thinking of the times his parents had taken him to that restaurant. He recalled all those weeknights and weekends for countless lunches and dinners. It had been his favorite place to eat with its’ wide variety of food and its’ Never-ending Salad Bar. He had imagined it so many times; it had to be true that he had been eating there the moment his could consume solid food. He was certain of it.

  Good food and good times, he thought. His mind shifted to his parents. They had always made an effort to eat with him, together, like a family should, as many times as they could manage. It was sometimes hard for his father to attend, because of the nature of his work. This occurred moreso toward the end, right before the Rending had come, but he had tried.

  Louis frowned at the thought of his father’s occupation. His recent promotion to senior seismologist had changed much of the dynamic within his family. A career at the California Institute of Technology (or Cal Tech) had proved wearing on the Willigan's.

  His father was almost never around if there were a large quake somewhere in the western part of the United States. Surprising as it might seem, it not as infrequent as one would imagine. Louis had learned at a young age that the crust of the earth was always moving, always on the go. Because of this, his father was often whisked away, at all times of the day, to study the latest tremor. He would map it’s affect upon the ground, within the earth, etc., etc. He would sometimes be gone for weeks, and every time he would come back exhausted - both in a physical and mental sense. Sometimes his father would be so frazzled; Louis would not attempt to talk to him until after he had slept. He knew his father had seen horrible things in those devastated earthquake zones, things he would never talk about. When they piled-up, became unbearable, his father would be as lost to him as he was when he was gone. Those were lonely times, having his father there and yet have him still a million miles away.

  Louis guessed, to make up for the times he did miss, his father had made it a practice to go out of his way to do what Louis wanted when he was able. This was only when his overwrought mind was stable enough to do so.

  His mother, on the other side of the coin, was always there, everywhere Louis went. She dropped him off at school and picked him up. She took him to Science Club and was right there the moment it ended. She never made Louis wait. She never made him feel alone or lonely, most likely because he was an only child, and always would be one.

  (His parents had explained to him years ago that his mother was incapable of having any more children. They had said because he was so unique and special, his mother had used up all her ability to nurture children when she had carried Louis. So that was that – no brothers, no sisters - no nothing.

  Unbeknownst to them, he had overheard them talking one day. It was a discussion of the surgery his mother had undergone to prevent pregnancy. That was when he found out his birth had almost killed the two of them. His father would not risk the life of his mother a second time. Or at least that’s what he had said to her during the course of that conversation. The rest was too complicated to understand so Louis had ignored it. After all, he had no idea what the heck Preeclampsia meant).

  Still, he figured this was the reason why his mother made him feel loved and fulfilled. There were times though, when he wondered would it be would be like to play with a child his age at home or on a whim. All the kids he played with were either at school or at the many clubs or associations he attended. The activities kept him busy, but still it was not the same. What would it feel like to have a sleepover? Or wake up in the morning and have a pillow fight? His parents did not allow that sort of thing.

  When he sat down and thought about it, serious, he realized he did not have any friends he felt close enough to ask in the first place. It had always been that way, so long he did not know anything else.

  I miss you, mom… dad…

  He was still lost in thought when Elena spoke again. “Louis, you heard me, right? Are you ok?” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts as if a firecracker had gone off in the cart among them. He jumped about three inches in the air.

  Elena's snigger was loud.

  Mikalah looked at both of them like they were crazy.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m ok,” he stammered, shaking his head to clear it of the imaginary cobwebs he could have sworn were clogging it. “I was just thinking, sorry, but to answer your question. Yes, I’ve been there a whole bunch of times. And you, have you eaten there before?”

  Elena thought for a second or two. “I think once, when I was real young. Mikalah was only a baby, but I don’t think we’ve eaten there since or at least, I don’t remember.”

  Louis nodded; downcast she did not have the same fond memories he had of the place. But a second thought prevailed and he added, “It used to be my favorite place to eat with my parents. They used to take me there twice a week sometimes.” His grin returned at the thought of all the food and drinks and desserts.

  “Our favorite place to eat was El Arco’s Iris. It’s real close to our house in Highland Park. Did you ever eat there?” speculated the little girl with her inquisitive, lopside
d grin.

  It was Louis turn to think. “No, I don’t think so,” he said after a time, no image of that restaurant coming to mind.

  “Too bad, it’s a great place to eat. They have the best Mexican food in the city. Better than everything, everywhere - other than the food my great grandmother makes. But, that’s homemade stuff, that doesn’t count. Eating good food when you go out is not the same as the food you eat at home, you know?” she differentiated for him, her eyebrows rising.

  Louis agreed with her whole-heartedly. “I usually don’t eat a lot of Mexican food, but you are right about eating out. Chowing down away from home is much better and way more fun, because there are no dishes to have to wash afterward.” He raised his own eyebrows like Groucho Marks, adding a goofy smile, making Elena laugh out loud.

  “I miss it all already and I have only been gone for about half a week,” admitted Elena. Her face slipped a bit as the sadness of her next thought sunk in. “What will it feel like when we’ve been gone for a month or a year or ten years? How are we ever going to deal with being away from our families? After so much time has passed, we’ll be wrecks.”

  Her dismay was easy enough to read, but that was not what resonated with Louis. “Do you really think we could be here that long?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I do feel we have a long, long road ahead of us,” she replied.

  But his mind was already elsewhere.

  He could not help but let the dread creep up and down his spine. The thought about being away from everything that he had known before for any extended period of time was an awful one. It scared him to death. What about his mother? She would be all alone. She needed so much help around the house. How was she going to cope? How would she open the upper cabinets in the kitchen without him to climb the small stepladder she was wary to use? Who would help her with the garbage, mowing the lawn, getting the mail or the newspaper on the weekends? What about his father? He would be in the field more often than not. How could he not help but worry over his wife being alone, knowing that Louis was not there to get her through the day, to help, to talk? Would he quit his job? Would he throw away his career, all because Louis was no longer there?