Elemental

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Elemental Page 6

by Debbie Kump


  The rest of the period lasted an eternity while I struggled to devise a new plan in preparation for their return.

  Almost a minute before the bell rang, Sully woke in a puddle of drool on his desktop. While a couple of kids laughed, I collected my books and prepared to make a fast exit. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Micah edging toward the aisle, undoubtedly anxious to question me about my repeated outbursts in class. I stared back at the clock, waiting for the second hand to make its last click before the bell rang, then darted out of the room, praying Micah couldn’t catch up.

  My heart thudding loudly inside my chest, I raced down the hall through the throngs of students milling around their lockers. What happened if they found me before the cast came off? I swallowed hard, certain of the truth. Everyone here would die.

  It seemed bad enough to learn about the fire in Chicago in a book. I could not, would not, let that happen again.

  Stay hidden. Stay smart. If only for six weeks until my arm healed. How hard could that be?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Somehow, I made it through the rest of the school day without drawing any more unnecessary attention to myself. The entire walk home, Micah didn’t speak a word to me. Instead, he remained a fixed distance of ten feet or more in front of me, almost like a bothersome pet trailed behind as he texted one friend after another on his phone. Already, I felt irritated with his pompous attitude and constant disregard. And here the school counselor thought it would ease my adjustment to place me in some of his classes. Instead, it made things worse. Why couldn’t I have lived with Sully instead? At least he spoke to me.

  The second I walked in the front door, I made a beeline for the basement, dropped my backpack on the futon, and headed back upstairs, intending to go somewhere far away to think of a new plan. I couldn’t stay here any longer. Not when Micah’s attitude drove me crazy.

  I turned to leave my bedroom, but found Micah leaning against the doorway.

  “So what was all that about?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  “Huh?” I muttered, confused. Now he wanted to talk? Then why bother to ignore me the whole way home?

  “Today in class. You were acting awfully weird,” he continued.

  Don’t get started, Jordan. Find a reason to go. Now.

  So I decided to play ignorant. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I moved to leave, but Micah’s arm spanned the doorway, blocking my exit.

  “Fess up,” he demanded.

  “To what?”

  “Something’s up. I saw what pages you were looking at…The Chicago Fire, World War II, astronauts landing on the moon.”

  “What’s the big deal?” I asked.

  “That’s exactly what I want to know. Why were you acting like that?”

  I gave an awkward laugh. “Like what?”

  “Like they’re front-page headlines, that’s what. Something’s wrong with you and I don’t think it’s your ‘amnesia,’” he said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

  His words stung. Something’s wrong with me. “Maybe I just like reading about history,” I retorted.

  “No one likes it that much. Especially not in Mr. Ta-boring’s class.”

  “Well, maybe I do.”

  “Oh, give it up, Jordan. Lying’s not your strength.”

  Okay. Enough with the insults for one day. I attempted to barrel through Micah’s arm, but he locked his elbow to barricade the door.

  “Not until you tell me the truth,” he said coolly.

  “I already have,” I barked, my nostrils flaring. I gritted my teeth, fuming. My hands instinctively balled into fists, just in case my rising fury released something I’d regret. I never used my power for anything but defense against The Three, and never once on a mortal, though it seemed a little tempting at the moment. My blood boiled, charging up my veins and threatening to erupt through my palms.

  His eyes narrowed to a cold glare of distrust. He grumbled, “Whatever.”

  I fought to restrain myself from doing something I’d regret, ignoring the breathlessness that choked my throat, sick of his snide remarks, sick of his hatred for me, sick of him. None of this would’ve happened if I didn’t fall into the road, if he didn’t hit me, if I didn’t break my arm and end up trapped here, listening to his complaints about how much I inconvenienced his freedom and complicated his existence.

  Spinning on my heels, I marched back to my room and snarled, “Sorry I ruined your life!” I almost slammed the door shut to emphasize the finality of our argument when I heard a small sniffle.

  Is that Micah?

  Slowly, I turned, doubtful of the source of the sound. Yet sure enough, I noticed Micah’s head bent over. His back slid down the doorway as he slumped to the floor. His shoulders quivered in silent sobs.

  Oh, God. What did I do now?

  I sighed, letting the pent up anger diffuse from my veins before I took a few measured steps toward Micah. He slouched over, his elbows resting on his knees and his palms covering his face. I shifted my weight from one hip to the other, and then I crossed my arms over my chest and mumbled, “Sorry.”

  He didn’t look up or reply.

  I took another deep breath, unfolding my arms. That didn’t come out as much of an apology. Kneeling beside him, I added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’d probably feel the same if our positions were reversed.”

  Micah wiped his nose across his sleeve. “It’s not that.”

  I blinked. “It’s not?”

  He shook his head.

  “You mean, you don’t hate me?” I wagered.

  He shook his head again, slower and more deliberate this time.

  “Then what is it?”

  Micah exhaled deeply. “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t handle the guilt I feel every time I see you.”

  “Guilt? Why’s that?”

  He looked up long enough to roll his eyes at me. “Because I almost killed you.” The words slid off his tongue with an acid tone.

  “But you didn’t,” I replied casually.

  “But I could’ve.”

  Holding up my cast, I added, “Really, I’m fine. I can’t believe you’re so worried about this. It’s nothing. Believe me, I’ve been in worse predicaments before.”

  Much, much worse.

  I expected his mood to lighten, now that my nonchalant attitude officially released him of his guilt. Instead, his head hung lower as a series of sobs raked his body.

  He looked so wrought with grief from this whole misunderstanding that I wanted to reach out, to comfort him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay. But I reminded myself this was Micah. And despite what Bethany said, he’d probably react in a hostile way toward me, brushing away my efforts with explosive rage. So I settled for placing one hand gently upon his shoulder and murmured another, “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged my hand off. “It’s not just that.”

  Folding my hands in my lap, I sighed in frustration. Afraid to speak or touch him again, I rocked back on my heels, waiting for him to continue.

  Long minutes passed in silence before Micah whispered, almost too low for me to hear, “You remind me of what I’ve lost.”

  My eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “What you’ve lost?” I echoed, extremely puzzled.

  Micah silently nodded.

  Confused thoughts raced through my head, waiting for him to continue.

  “It was on March sixth, almost two years ago,” Micah finally said in a small voice. “A storm was moving in so it got dark early that night when Dad went out. We didn’t think anything of it. He always went for a run after work.”

  My back grew rigid. Dread filled my gut as I hung on his every word.

  A long pause followed before Micah spoke again. “He used to run a lot of marathons— San Fran, Big Sur, LA. So he’d train a lot in his free time. Only that night, his run lasted longer than normal.”

  My hand slow
ly made its way to my mouth, smothering the gasp that escaped my lips. All this time, I assumed Micah’s parents had separated or divorced—and that explained their dad’s absence. Too wrapped up in my own problems, I never bothered to ask. Worse, I had a sinking suspicion I could guess how Micah’s story ended.

  Micah sighed before continuing, “The driver said she never saw him. He appeared out of nowhere. The ambulance arrived and there was nothing they could do to save him. He died almost instantly.”

  I blinked, frozen in my spot. Chills ran the length of my spine for Micah, not just for what happened to his father, but for what I did to him.

  And then I realized the truth. Micah wasn’t mad at me for losing his driving privileges for a month. Not at all.

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered, everything suddenly crystal clear in my mind. “And then I was in the road…”

  Micah nodded.

  “And you almost…”

  His mouth dropped into a frown. “Exactly.”

  My shoulders slumped forward as my head fell into my hands. “No wonder Celia was so pissed.”

  “Bingo.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  It took Micah a long, long time to respond. And when he finally did, his words surprised me. I didn’t hear words of forgiveness as I anticipated, but rather a question for which I didn’t have an honest answer.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You said your family’s all gone, right?” Micah asked in a low voice.

  I nodded, my eyes glazing over with fresh tears—for them and for Micah.

  “How did they die?” he wondered, his words choked with sorrow. “In a car crash?”

  I shook my head, unable to verbalize a response. In that instant, memories flooded my mind, like the gushing torrent down a flooded streambed in spring. I visualized our small country house, nestled among the olive groves in the hills outside of Jerusalem so very, very long ago.

  The smell of dried herbs hanging in our open windows filled the air. My little sister, Sarah, and I skipped down the dusty road. We’d just visited our neighbor, trading eggs from our henhouse for a fresh loaf of bread, and anxiously returned home for dinner. Sarah happily skipped, her long black hair swaying back and forth. And every time she laughed, she exposed the gap in her mouth from her two missing front teeth.

  But when we neared our house, I stopped. Goose bumps scattered across the length of my arms, making my hair stand on end. A young woman, perhaps five years my elder, spoke with our parents on the front stoop. Her russet hair caught the breeze, its tresses blowing wild and unruly upon her head. At the sound of Sarah’s giggle, she turned. Her bright green eyes met mine.

  “Jordan, this is Gaia. She’s come looking for you,” my mother explained. “She says she’s an old friend of yours.”

  I bristled, unexpected fear coursing through my veins. “I’ve never seen her before in my life,” I stated coolly.

  Gaia’s lips turned up in a crooked grin. “Surely you haven’t forgotten me already,” she said with feigned surprise. “Let us visit for a while. I am certain you will remember.”

  But her tone made me wary. I reached for Sarah’s hand and gripped it tightly. I didn’t want her to take another step closer to this beguiling stranger.

  My father shot me a reproachful look, disappointed with my rude behavior to our guest.

  “Come along, Sarah,” Mother said, extending her hand. Against my better judgment, I released my sister, watching her skip the rest of the way toward our house. Never suspecting that would be the last time I saw any of them.

  Alive.

  Slowly, Gaia turned to me. “For many years, I have been looking for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” I echoed, confused.

  Her bold green eyes regarded me with suspicion. “You cannot possibly believe that I don’t know about your powers.”

  “Powers?” my voice cracked. “What powers?”

  Gaia cackled, her head tipping backward in disbelief. “Why, you are an Elemental. One of the four most revered forces of nature.” She laughed cruelly. “And when we find the others, we will be unstoppable. Together we can shape the fate of man.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Oh, but you do, I’m afraid,” she insisted in a steely tone, extending one hand toward me. “I’ll train you to use them. To accomplish grand feats you never deemed possible. All you need to do is leave your family and join me.”

  I crossed my arms in defiance. “Never.”

  Her cold, sinister eyes met mine. “Surely you will change your mind. Especially when I offer you no other alternative.” She glanced in an assuming way toward my house with my family inside.

  In an instant, I understood her presumption. Either I join her now, or my loved ones would perish.

  My eyes narrowed. Blood boiled in my veins as I charged the house to warn my family.

  Then everything happened in a blur.

  Gaia stomped one foot upon the dirt and the ground unexpectedly trembled, knocking me off my feet. My mother’s alarmed cries filled the air, adding to the tilting of my world.

  I leapt to my feet and sprinted for Gaia, my hands balled into fists. She pounded her foot against the ground once more. Another tremor, greater than the first, rattled the countryside and jolted me off my feet. I heard my whole family yelp in fear. I crawled on hands and knees for the front door, but made little progress before Gaia pointed a finger toward the base of a nearby tree. In an instant, the ground beneath the tree caved. The trunk fell, blocking my family’s escape.

  Clenching my jaw, I scrambled to my feet and glowered at Gaia, anger consuming the pit of my soul. A gut-wrenching pain filled my heart, tearing at my chest, desperate to break free. Unable to contain the ache inside, it burst from its spot and radiated outward. Within seconds, an unexpected burn flared from my shoulders to my fingertips.

  Glancing at my arms, Gaia crowed, “See? I knew you were one of us.”

  Puzzled, I gaped at my hands in utter astonishment. Flames raged inside my palms as if I brandished a weapon of pure destruction. A frightened gasp escaped my lips.

  “Hmm,” Gaia snorted. “Perhaps you truly didn’t know.”

  But she knew. And that explained her visit. Her threat against my family echoed in my head. In that instant, my initial surprise at finding my hands painfully doused in fire seemed insignificant. I decided I must destroy her before she touched my family.

  With an agonizing groan, I raised my hands and pointed them at Gaia’s face. Focusing all of my rage outward at my new threat, I shot bursts of flames from my fingertips toward her in a powerful stream.

  Yes! I did it, I congratulated myself.

  But Gaia dodged the stream, deftly stamping her foot again to rock the ground beneath my feet, making my knees wobble and sending my stream of fire off course. Horrified, I watched helplessly. My molten balls of fire hit the roof of our home instead…and quickly set it ablaze.

  A terrifying scream escaped my lips at the panicked cries of my family trapped inside. Sarah’s shrieks pierced my ears. I rose to my feet, aiming my hands at Gaia once more with the intent to disable her for good so I could rescue my family from the burning house. Only before I could act, Gaia crushed her foot against the earth once more. Sarah’s high-pitched wails suddenly extinguished as the tiled roof collapsed upon my family.

  “No!” I screeched. My face steamed while blood bubbled in my veins. My eyes burned hot until it felt like glowing embers masked the normal black of my irises. I crumpled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to believe what just happened…what I did to my own flesh and blood.

  “Who are you?” I demanded between sobs. Tears stung my eyes but did little to soothe the grief in my heart.

  “The same as you. I am Gaia, the Elemental for Earth. And you are Pyr, the Elemental—”

  “For Fire,” I finished for her, the words sticking in my throat. I studied my hands, repulsed with what I had done.

&nb
sp; “Pyr, I have been searching for you for a long time.”

  The way my name rolled off her lips, I hated it in an instant. I was Jordan, always and forever.

  “Come with me.” She extended one hand. “There’s nothing left here for you now.”

  But instead of conceding to her request, I rose to my feet, ignoring her outstretched hand. Fury and determination ran rampant down my spine and planted my feet firmly in the soil. She stole my family from me, so I would steal back that which she most desired.

  Myself.

  Intense rage coursed through my veins, fueling the fire from within. Immersed in insufferable pain, I aimed my flaming hands at the ground, intending to create my own funeral pyre. I realized only one choice guaranteed she could not cause this type of destruction again. I must actually destroy myself. I stood rigid while flames lashed my body, consuming me with surprising speed. An intense heat wrapped around me and smothered the breath from my lungs. I fought to stand tall and brave while containing my cries of hurt and loss, but the heat grew too great. It burned my eyes, stung my throat, and pierced my nose. I gritted my teeth and dug my fingernails into my palm, forcing myself to appear stoic and defiant to Gaia’s demands. Then I shouted, my bold voice ringing clear through the air. “I will never join you. Not in this life.”

  Her wicked green eyes found mine. She muttered, “So be it.”

  A small part of me expected Gaia to find a way to extinguish my flames. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips and watched me burn in excruciating misery, her lips turning up in a sly grin.

  The world around me faded into blackness, but I had a sickening feeling that somehow I would see her again.

  “Was it a car crash?” Micah repeated, louder this time.

  I shook my head, ridding my conscience of that atrocious memory. “House fire,” I murmured, knowing that explained only half the truth. No need to tell him that Gaia had tricked me into causing it. I buried my face in my hands. Sarah’s wail continued to ring in my ears.

 

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