Cuts Like a Knife
Page 5
I let go and reached for one of the side supports of the merry-go-round, stretching as far as I could to pull myself up onto the top bar. I lay on my stomach on the narrow metal pipe and tried to undo the rope. The knot was too tight and too complicated, no matter how hard I pulled at the rope. I couldn’t get her loose.
No! I pounded my fist on the bar.
No! I wasn’t going to let this happen.
I looked down at my mom holding on to Mac, holding her up with every bit of strength she had. I wiped my face against the torn sleeve of my shirt and somehow my brain started working again.
“Mom.” My voice was rough. “Do you have your knife?”
Her stupid knife. My dad had bought it for her because she was the kind of person who cut everything into small pieces and hated to get her hands dirty.
She nodded. “In my pocket,” she said, her voice strained from the effort of holding on to Mac. “But I can’t let go of her.”
The sleeve of my shirt where I’d caught it on that stupid metal thing was wet with blood, and my arm was shaking even when I wasn’t trying to use it. If I jumped down, could I climb back up again?
I wrapped my legs around the pipe and with my good arm reached down for Mac, catching her under both armpits and taking some of her weight from Mom. I only took one quick look at Mom’s blotchy red face. Her eyes were closed and her face, like mine, was wet with tears.
“Throw it,” I yelled.
Mom kept one arm around Mac’s legs and fished the penknife out of her jeans pocket with the other.
I used every bit of strength I had to hold Mac up with my one arm even as her weight pulled at me, trying to take both of us down. Except I wasn’t going, and I wasn’t letting her go either. I didn’t care if my arm ripped right off my body, I wasn’t letting go.
Mom threw the knife up in the air. It sailed toward me, end over end, and I could see it clearly, even in the darkness, like it was moving in slow motion. Mom grabbed on to Mac again with both arms, and I leaned out and snatched the knife out of the air and by some miracle managed not to fall.
I pulled the knife open with my teeth, jammed the blade between the metal pipe and the rope and started to cut, using both hands. My legs were knotted with cramps. There were shooting pains going up both of my arms, but I wasn’t going to stop. I gritted my teeth and worked at the rope with the knife.
Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer. The rope began to fray and split as the blade sliced at it.
I was almost through. I slung my arm around Mac again, sawing with my shaking left arm, and suddenly the rope let go and we had all of Mac’s weight. It almost pulled me over.
My legs started to give way. I let the knife fall to the ground and grabbed Mac around her chest with my other arm and somehow, with Mom’s help, got her down to the ground without dropping her.
Mom’s legs buckled. Her face twisted with pain, but she didn’t make a sound. She crawled across the ground to Mac, put an ear to her chest, and then she straightened and started chest compressions.
I jumped down, and my left ankle turned in when I landed, so I fell sideways onto my butt. There were raw, red marks on my hands from pulling on the rope. The same red marks I could see around Mac’s neck.
Mom kept her eyes fixed on Mac’s chest. I shoved my hair back off my face and put my mouth over Mac’s. Something from my first-aid class kicked in and I remembered to tilt her head and check inside her mouth. Then I just breathed for both of us and focused everything else on the sound of my mother’s voice calmly counting beside me.
Chapter Fifteen
The sirens got louder, drowning out my mother’s voice, drowning out everything but the sound of my heart, pounding in my ears.
And then it happened. Mac’s body jerked. She made a kind of strangled sound and tried to suck in a breath.
I pulled back as Mom turned Mac partly onto her side. Her breathing was ragged and slow, but she was breathing.
She. Was. Breathing.
And then the ambulance was at the fence, red lights swirling. I tried to get to my feet, but my ankle wouldn’t work right. Mom reached over and pushed me back down. Then she stood up herself, took a few steps forward and raised her hands over her head, waving so the paramedics could see us. And all the time I could hear Mac behind me, working to pull in every breath.
Alive.
The paramedics ran across the lot and pushed past us. Mom helped me move off to the side, out of the way. One of the paramedics came over to us but I shook my head. “I’m all right,” I said. “Just take care of her, please.”
Mom noticed my arm for the first time. “Daniel, you’re hurt,” she said.
“Just let them fix Mac first, please,” I said.
Wordlessly she pulled off her own sweatshirt and draped it over my shoulders, putting her arm around me at the same time. We stayed like that while the two men worked.
Finally, after what seemed like a long time, they lifted Mac onto a stretcher. Her eyes were open, and I struggled to get to my feet, ignoring the pain in my ankle. I wanted to tell her I was there. I wanted to tell her she’d be okay. I leaned over, laying my hand on the blue sheet they’d covered her with.
She looked up at me. “Why didn’t you let me die?” she rasped, her voice raw and low. Then she turned her head away and closed her eyes, tears slipping out from under her lashes.
I stood there as they moved the stretcher across the uneven ground. There were two police officers walking toward us.
Mom got to her feet. She held on to my arm with one of hers, and I looked at her. “She hates me,” I said dully. I wasn’t so stunned that I didn’t know this was what Mac had done to Shannon when she’d tried to warn us that Mac was hurting herself. What we’d all done, me and Ren and Alex. And I wished I had a time machine so I could go back and do it differently, and maybe Mac would never have gotten to this.
Mom’s face was pale and dirty. Half her hair was hanging in her eyes. She hugged herself with her free arm. She’d done all this for Mac. She’d done this for me. Was it all for nothing?
Then she looked up at me and smiled. She gave me this huge beautiful smile that didn’t make any sense. “Yeah, she hates you right now,” she said, “but the thing is, she’s here to hate you, isn’t she?”
Then she wrapped both her arms around me, still smiling that shining smile, and I put my head on her shoulder and cried because Mac hated me.
And I cried because Mac was here.
She was still here.
Darlene Ryan is the author of Responsible, Saving Grace and Five Minutes More. She is at work on another teen novel.
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The following is an excerpt from
another exciting Orca Soundings novel,
Viral by Alex Van Tol.
978-1-55469-411-2 $9.95 pb
978-1-55469-412-9 $16.95 lib
MIKE HAS FALLEN FOR HIS BEST FRIEND,
Lindsay. And he’s pretty sure she feels the same way, until a simple misunderstanding destroys Lindsay’s trust.
When Lindsay ends up in a compromising situation, someone is filming the whole thing, and the footage goes viral. Mike has to help Lindsay in her time of greatest need.
Chapter one
You only get one chance. Ever heard that saying?
It’s true. Especially with the important things in life. So when that one chance rolls around, you can’t afford to screw it up.
Except, somehow, I did.
Things had been going so well between Lindsay and me. After years of just being friends, something had shifted in the way I felt about her. I didn’t want to be just friends anymore. And I could kind of tell she didn’t either. You know, from the way she looked at me. The way she talked to me. The way we suddenly felt shy with each other when we hadn’t before. The way my heart kind of skipped a beat when her name came up on my phone.
It took me months, but I had finally worked up the courage to ask Lindsay out. I had it all planned: I was going to ask her
at the year-end party at Sara’s place.
On the night of the party, I was nervous as hell. Which is stupid, really, because it’s what both of us wanted. But still, you want to do things right, you know?
So anyway, after a few beers every-one was down at the fire pit, and just Lindsay and I were left sitting on the back deck. It was a cool night in late June. Pink clouds. Still air. The universe had even arranged some lightning flashing on the horizon. Perfect.
Lindsay was lounging on a chaise. I was hanging out on the double swing. She shivered a little. My cue.
“Want my hoodie?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m okay.” But then she rubbed her arms. Cue number two.
I patted the seat beside me. “Come sit,” I said. I held up a corner of the blanket that was draped over the swing back. I could easily have tossed it to her. But that wasn’t the point. I wanted her close to me. I couldn’t exactly ask her out if she was, like, ten feet away.
Sharing a swing with my best friend was something I would’ve done without thinking twice just a few months ago. We would have sat together under the blanket and listened to the sounds of laughter drifting up from the fire pit below. Laughed at how drunk other people were. Made fun of teachers we didn’t like.
But when it actually means something…it’s different.
She shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “It is getting chilly.” She stood up. Stretched. God, how had I spent all these years not wanting her? She moved toward the swing. “Shove your butt over, Mikey.” I grinned and she sat down beside me. Kicked off her sandals and brought her legs up under her—those long gymnastics-ripped legs of hers. I handed her some blanket and she tucked her feet underneath. She leaned into me. “This okay?”
My stomach did a flip-flop. “Yep.” Definitely okay. I took a deep breath. “So,” I began. But then I didn’t know what else to say. My mind was blank.
Lindsay looked up at me. “Yeah?” The lightning forked a little bit closer. The storm was still too far away for us to hear any thunder. “So?”
“Yeah. That’s, uh, that’s some pretty great lightning, you know?” I sounded like an idiot.
She put her head on my shoulder. “It’s totally great lightning, Mike,” she agreed. I heard the smile in her voice.
I got a grip on myself and tried again. I was going to do this. “Yeah, so, um, I wanted to ask you something,” I said. I lifted a strand of her hair and wrapped it around my fingers. So soft.
“Mm-hmm?” she asked. “What’s that?” Her arm drifted across my stomach and rested there. She never used to do that. She hooked her thumb in one of my belt loops. I took another deep breath and let it out slow. Real slow.
“Yeah, so, I was wondering…” Another deep breath. A flash of lightning lit up the horizon. Another followed right on its heels. A puff of wind flipped up the corner of the blanket, exposing Lindsay’s legs. Her amazing endless legs. She reached down absently and flicked it back into place. Snugged up tighter to me.
“You were wondering…?”
And suddenly I just…chickened out. “Yeah, I was wondering…do you, uh, do you want…another beer?” I finished lamely. As soon as the words left my mouth, I was furious with myself.
“No,” I said, backpedaling. “I mean, never mind. Never mind the beer.” I sucked in another breath. “I actually meant to ask you if—”
Right then, Aaron and Morgan crashed through the back door. Lindsay shifted, sitting up and edging over to the other end of the swing.
Morgan had a shaggy beard strapped to his head. He danced over to us in tight yellow Speedos and huge sunglasses, singing “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
Normally I would laugh—who wouldn’t? The guy’s an idiot. But Morgan’s screwing around was the last thing I needed right now.
Aaron’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Hey! Whassup, Mikey!!” he shouted. He raised his beer. “You too cool for the rest of us down at the fire pit?”
Just then he noticed Lindsay bunched up at the other end of the swing. He looked from me to her, then back at me. Raised his eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes: Duh! Aaron’s eyes widened in sudden understanding.
He started to back away. “Du-u-ude,” he said. “It’s cool. We’re leaving now.” He punched Morgan on the arm and nodded toward us.
Morgan opened his mouth to speak.
“Shut it,” said Aaron. “We’re leaving.” They turned to go.
But it was too late. The door opened again and a group of girls giggled out onto the porch. More people followed.
And my chance was lost.
Titles in the Series
orca soundings
B Negative
Vicki Grant
Back
Norah McClintock
Bang
Norah McClintock
Battle of the Bands
K.L. Denman
Big Guy
Robin Stevenson
Blue Moon
Marilyn Halvorson
Breaking Point
Lesley Choyce
Breathless
Pam Withers
Bull Rider
Marilyn Halvorson
Bull’s Eye
Sarah N. Harvey
Cellular
Ellen Schwartz
Charmed
Carrie Mac
Chill
Colin Frizzell
Comeback
Vicki Grant
Crush
Carrie Mac
Cuts Like a Knife
Darlene Ryan
The Darwin Expedition
Diane Tullson
Dead-End Job
Vicki Grant
Death Wind
William Bell
Down
Norah McClintock
Exit Point
Laura Langston
Exposure
Patricia Murdoch
Fallout
Nikki Tate
Fastback Beach
Shirlee Smith Matheson
First Time
Meg Tilly
Grind
Eric Walters
Hannah’s Touch
Laura Langston
The Hemingway Tradition
Kristin Butcher
Hit Squad
James Heneghan
Home Invasion
Monique Polak
House Party
Eric Walters
I.D.
Vicki Grant
Impact
James C. Dekker
In the Woods
Robin Stevenson
Infiltration
Sean Rodman
Jacked
Carrie Mac
Juice
Eric Walters
Kicked Out
Beth Goobie
Knifepoint
Alex Van Tol
Last Ride
Laura Langston
Learning to Fly
Paul Yee
Lockdown
Diane Tullson
Masked
Norah McClintock
Middle Row
Sylvia Olsen
My Time as Caz Hazard
Tanya Lloyd Kyi
No More Pranks
Monique Polak
No Problem
Dayle Campbell Gaetz
One More Step
Sheree Fitch
One Way
Norah McClintock
Outback
Robin Stevenson
Overdrive
Eric Walters
Pain & Wastings
Carrie Mac
Picture This
Norah McClintock
Plastic
Sarah N. Harvey
Reaction
Lesley Choyce
Redline
Alex Van Tol
Refuge Cove
Lesley Choyce
Responsible
Darlene Ryan
Riley Park
Diane Tullson
Riot
Act
Diane Tullson
Rock Star
Adrian Chamberlain
Running the Risk
Lesley Choyce
Saving Grace
Darlene Ryan
Scum
James C. Dekker
Sea Change
Diane Tullson
Shattered
Sarah N. Harvey
Snitch
Norah McClintock
Something Girl
Beth Goobie
Spiral
K.L. Denman
Sticks and Stones
Beth Goobie
Stuffed
Eric Walters
Tell
Norah McClintock
Thunderbowl
Lesley Choyce
Tough Trails
Irene Morck
The Trouble with Liberty
Kristin Butcher
Truth
Tanya Lloyd Kyi
Viral
Alex Van Tol
Wave Warrior
Lesley Choyce
Who Owns Kelly Paddik?
Beth Goobie
Yellow Line
Sylvia Olsen
Zee’s Way
Kristin Butcher