Burning

by Danielle Rollins

  The past few restless nights catch up to me all at once. I feel the exhaustion deep in my legs. It climbs up my body, and it doesn’t relent until I lower my head to the kitchen table.

  “Fine,” I say, letting my eyes flutter closed. “A few hours. But no fire.”

  Hours later, I groggily open my eyes. At some point, someone moved me to the futon and weighed me down with blankets. A fire crackles and spits a few feet away, thawing my hands and feet. I yawn, and burrow down into the futon mattress, halfheartedly trying to place the heavy, rich smell that hangs in the air.

  Food.

  I’m suddenly wide awake. I sit, and the blankets fall to my lap.

  “What the hell—”

  “We waited until dark,” Cara explains, cutting me off. She’s bent over the stove, stirring something with a long wooden spoon. Sweat dots her forehead. “I know you said no fire, but they won’t see the smoke in the dark, right?”

  I’m not entirely sure that’s true. We’re in a house, not hiding out in the middle of the woods. I felt okay about the tiny little fires we set to keep ourselves warm. But this is different. Bigger.

  My stomach tenses. The smell of the food makes me feel dizzy. We haven’t eaten anything since the rabbit last night. It’s probably more dangerous to keep running on empty stomachs.

  I stretch my arms over my head. Jessica stands on her tiptoes in front of the stove, peering into a large pot. Issie’s behind her, giggling as she pours some salt into water.

  “We found dry pasta,” Issie explains when I come up behind her. “And tomato sauce and canned beans.”

  “Yum,” I say. The smell is garlicky and rich. My mouth starts to water.

  “We got those too.” Cara nods at a pile of clothes and shoes stacked by the back door. “We only found two coats and one pair of boots. We’ll have to split them up and trade off every few hours.”

  “That’s great,” I say. I wiggle my toes, thinking about how much easier it’ll be to trek through the snow when I can actually feel my feet. I wander back to the window. A faded map hangs on the wall. I trace a finger along the twisting roads.

  “See the little red circle?” Cara calls from the kitchen. “We think that’s where the cabin is.”

  I squint, leaning in closer. “Do you think that’s the high—” My foot gets caught on a cord twisting across the floor. I trip and stumble into the window, catching myself with one hand.

  “What the hell?” I mutter, leaning down. The cord trails toward the wall and disappears. My voice catches in my throat. I drop to my knees and dig below the futon. My fingers brush against plastic.

  No. It can’t be this easy. I grab the object and pull it out, placing it on my lap.

  A telephone. A landline, still plugged in to the wall. Heart hammering in my chest, I remove the phone from the cradle.

  A dial tone echoes in my ear.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Muchas gracias, Daniel,” Issie says into the phone. “Hasta pronto.”

  She places the receiver back onto the cradle. We all stare at her. Waiting.

  “It’ll take him three hours to get here,” she says. “He’s in Sunset Park for Sunday dinner, but he’s leaving as soon as he figures out what to say to mamá—”

  “He’s really coming?” Cara says, cutting her off. “Your brother’s gonna pick us up?”

  Issie rolls her eyes. “I told you. He owes me. He said he’ll call this number when he’s close, and that we should hike up to the highway to meet him. His friend Pedro lives in Brooklyn, and he has an extra room where we can stay till we figure stuff out.”

  “Pedro has an extra room,” I repeat. A laugh bubbles from my mouth. “Seriously?”

  Issie frowns. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s just so easy,” I say. “I thought we were going to get eaten by wolves, but no. We’re getting a ride to Brooklyn, and some guy named Pedro is going to let us crash with him.”

  A smile unfolds across my face, but I don’t say what I’m really thinking. Charlie’s in Brooklyn. I might see my brother again, after all.

  Cara slaps my wrist with a tomato sauce–covered spoon. “We can still get eaten by a wolf on the way to the highway,” she points out.

  The next few hours pass in a blur. We finish cooking and eat mounds of spaghetti in happy silence. The noodles taste stale, and there’s a strong whiff of tin can to the sauce, but I’ll be damned if it’s not the best meal I’ve ever eaten. I won’t admit I’m finished until I’ve licked the plate clean.

  When we’re all done eating, Cara starts the dishes while Jessica and I fold the blankets and place them back inside the wooden trunk. Issie douses the fire with water, leaving a soggy black mess at the bottom of the fireplace.

  I unhook a tiny broom and dustpan from the rack of tools next to the firewood.

  “Really?” Issie says, when I hand her the broom. “You think they’re going to know we came through here because we left some ashes in the fireplace?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, dropping the dustpan on the floor next to her. “But I don’t want to take any chances.”

  It’s only a matter of time before they realize we’ve made it out of the woods. Dr. Gruen isn’t stupid. Eventually, she’ll find this cabin and check the phone records and figure out exactly where we’ve gone. I just hope we have a head start.

  Jessica stops folding. She cocks her head like a bird. “What’s that noise?” she asks.

  I don’t hear anything, but I stop what I’m doing and listen anyway. Cara hums while she dries the last of the dishes. Issie scrapes the metal dustpan along the bottom of the fireplace.

  “Guys, quiet for a second,” I say. Cara frowns, and places the saucepan she’s holding on the counter. Issie twists around to look at me.

  A staticky sound floats in through the walls. Goose bumps climb my arms. It sounds like beating wings. I go over to the window and push back the curtains.

  A black helicopter hangs in the sky like a wasp, barely visible in the dark. It’s so close that I stumble away from the window, worried it might see us.

  “Shit,” I say. “Shit. A helicopter.”

  Cara knots her fingers in front of her chest. “What are we supposed to do?” she says.

  I gnaw at my lower lip. According to the clock on the oven, it’s been three and a half hours since we called Daniel.

  “He should have been here by now,” Issie says. She crowds in next to me at the window and carefully peeks around the curtains.

  “Maybe he just forgot to call,” I say. “We could head up to the highway now and wait for him, just in case.”

  I realize how stupid that plan is almost as soon as the words leave my mouth. Of course we can’t wait for Issie’s brother by the side of the highway. We’re four girls wearing bright orange sweatshirts in the snow. The helicopter would find us in seconds.

  I kick the side of the futon. Hard. Pain shoots through my foot, but I ignore it. This is bullshit. We’re so close.

  Issie stiffens. “Someone’s here,” she says.

  I push past her, and yank the curtains aside.

  Dr. Gruen stands in the snow several yards away, her body silhouetted in the moonlight. She stares through our window. Shadows fall across her face, but I can still make out the oily black depths of her eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “I know you’re in there.” Dr. Gruen doesn’t raise her voice. She could be warning us about running in the halls or talking back to a guard. “Give me Jessica, and the rest of you are free to go.”

  I step away from the window. I feel shaken, like my world is a snow globe someone’s turned upside down. Now that the snow has settled I see things as they really are. Dr. Gruen led us here. We were never going to escape.

  Jessica cocks her head, like she’s listening to music the rest of us can’t hear. “I have to go with her now,” she whispers. “Don’t I?”

  “No.” I grab her hand. I have the sudden childish urge to yank
the curtain closed and hide. Like, if I can’t see Dr. Gruen, she isn’t there.

  “Yeah, don’t be stupid.” Issie pushes past me and looks through the window herself. “My brother’s coming. We just need a way to get out of here without Crazy Bitch seeing us.”

  Outside, Dr. Gruen lifts her arm and taps the skinny watch fastened to her wrist. “You have five minutes.”

  Five minutes. Issie steps away from the window, letting the curtain slide back into place. Cara sets the saucepan she’d been holding down on the counter. We exchange a look and I know we’re all thinking the same thing.

  Five minutes isn’t enough time for a plan. It isn’t enough time for anything.

  Jessica clears her throat. “She only wants me,” she says, in a voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her. “The rest of you would be safe.”

  Cara snaps her fingers. “There’s a back door,” she says. She wipes her damp hands on her pants and crosses to the cabin’s far wall. A large upholstered chair sits in the corner. “It’s behind this. I found it when I was looking for the coats.”

  Cara grunts and throws her shoulder against the chair, sliding it about two inches to the left.

  Issie cracks her knuckles. “I’m like two and a half of you. What are you even doing?” She squeezes in next to Cara and together they slide the chair away from the door.

  “Come on,” I say, taking Jessica by the arm. She casts one last glance at the window before I steer her to the back of the room.

  Issie kneels in front of the door and jiggles the handle. Locked.

  “Shit,” she mutters. She claws at the keyhole with her fingernail. “There isn’t a dead bolt. We need a key.”

  “Key?” I wipe my sweaty hands on the back of my scrubs and glance at the digital clock on the stovetop. Two minutes have already passed. We don’t have time to look for a key.

  “Move,” Cara says. She pushes Issie out of the way and crouches in front of the door. Under her breath, she whispers, “Easy enough.” She slides a bobby pin out of her hair and jabs it into the keyhole, squinting.

  “How the hell did you sneak that past the metal detectors?” Issie asks.

  “Stole it off Sterling,” Cara says, chewing her lower lip. She pulls the pin out and twists the end, then forces it into the hole again. “Told her she had lint in her hair.”

  “Ballsy,” Issie says.

  I look back at the clock. Another minute has ticked past. I pinch the skin on my wrists and, when that doesn’t calm me down, I pace. Two steps to the left. Two to the right.

  Jessica stares at the window. She knots her fingers together, humming a fragment of the song she’d been singing earlier.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I say. She glances up at me, and a blush creeps over her cheeks.

  “Hurry.” Issie bounces in place. Cara wiggles the pin inside the hole. I hear a click, and my heart stops.

  Cara pumps a fist into the air. “Got it!” she whisper-shouts. She twists the knob and the door creaks open. Icy air crawls in through the gap, and kisses the bare skin at my ankles.

  “Highway’s just through the trees,” Issie says. She grabs a coat from the stack on the floor, and wiggles into it. “If Daniel isn’t there, we can hitchhike to the nearest gas station and call him from a pay phone.”

  “Hurry!” Cara says, slipping out the door.

  Jessica glances at the window. “She’ll follow us,” she says.

  “We’ll run really fast.” I nudge her toward the door. She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “When antelope are being chased by lions, they don’t go back if one of them falls or gets hurt. It would put the whole herd in danger.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not an antelope,” I say, reaching for Jessica’s arm. She wriggles away.

  “I can give you a head start,” she says. “You can make it to the highway.”

  “We have to go,” Cara says.

  I glance at the clock as the fourth minute ticks past. “We don’t have time for this, Jess.”

  “I can distract her,” Jessica says. She squares her jaw, and I have a sudden flash of Mary Anne’s mangled face, of orange flames dancing toward the bathroom ceiling. Jessica’s not planning on quietly going along with Dr. Gruen. She’s going to fight.

  And if I leave her here alone, she’s going to die.

  I look at Cara.

  “Angela, no,” she breathes. Behind her, Issie stiffens.

  “What’s going on?” she asks.

  “Angela’s going to stay,” Cara says.

  “I’m not leaving her alone,” I say. I sneak another look at the clock. “Now go. You’re running out of time.”

  Issie’s eyes flicker over to Jessica, then back to me. “When you get away, head for the highway,” she says. “Hitchhike to the nearest gas station. Cara and I will be waiting. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” I start to push the door closed, but Cara reaches inside and grabs my arm.

  “I’ll write to him,” she says. She grabs my wrist, and I feel my first spark of fear, like static electricity leaping from her skin to mine. It’s gone in a heartbeat, and then Cara’s racing through the snow and disappearing into the trees with Issie.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see our final minute tick past.

  Chapter Forty

  A trail of fire blazes through the front window, hitting the rickety wooden table in the corner. Glass explodes into the room, and flames crackle around us. I drag Jessica to the floor, shielding her with my body. Razor-sharp shards shred my shirt and bite into my back. Smoke the color of oil fills the room.

  Dr. Gruen pushes the front door open and steps inside.

  “Time’s up,” she says.

  Jessica pushes me, and I roll into the wall, smacking my hip so hard I cringe. Fire erupts from the floor where our bodies just were, setting the rug alight. Smoke grows thick around us. It claws at my throat, making me cough. I scramble off the floor, pulling my shirt over my nose and mouth.

  The air thickens. I think it’s the smoke, at first. Then I smell something metallic, and everything seems to sizzle. It’s like touching a live wire. Like standing near power lines.

  Jessica pushes herself to her feet. Her eyes fade to black. A line of fire flickers across the floor, inches from Dr. Gruen’s pointed heels. Heat fills the small wooden room. I scoot closer to the wall. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and drips down the back of my neck.

  Dr. Gruen cocks her head in a vaguely reptilian gesture. Jessica’s flames grow higher, becoming a wall that separates her from us.

  “Impressive,” Dr. Gruen murmurs, grinning. “Though not entirely smart, strategically speaking. It’ll take a lot of power to hold that for more than a few minutes.”

  Jessica’s arms tremble.

  I stand, and search the room for a weapon. The heat makes my skin feel itchy and tight. Flames dance around my feet, and my knees wobble. Twice I have to prop a hand against the wall to keep from falling. I rip open cupboards and drawers until—hell yes. Knives. I grab the two with the biggest blades and shuffle toward the wall of flames.

  Fire licks at the ceiling, leaving black scorches on the paint. Dr. Gruen paces, shoulders hunched, like a caged animal. Flames curl from the floor at her feet, but they spark and die when they reach Jessica’s wall of fire.

  “Adorable,” she says through gritted teeth. She’s not grinning anymore.

  I tighten my grip on my knives, ignoring the sweat gathering between my fingers and the wooden handles. I cast another glance at Jessica. Her knees knock together.

  The fire flickers. Spaces appear between the flames.

  I launch myself at Jessica, shoving her out of the way a second before a line of fire shoots through a gap in the wall. It hits my leg, and pain like I’ve never felt before flares through my skin. I think of melting flesh and seared bone, of meat roasting. Tears spring to my eyes, and it’s a long moment before I can catch my breath. The muscles in my hand spasm, and one of my knives drops to the gr
ound.

  Jessica’s wall melts into a cloud of black smoke. She falls to her knees, her chest rising and falling as she struggles to breathe.

  I sneak a look at my leg. Blackened, crusty skin peeks out from the holes in my scrubs, the edges red with blood. I move, and pain shoots through my thigh. I close my eyes and try to roll the pain into a little ball. Something small that I can deal with. It flares and burns inside me, making me dizzy.

  “What happened to letting the rest of us go free?” I choke out.

  Dr. Gruen examines her fingernails, like she’s looking for leftover soot. “That was a calculated lie,” she says. “None of you were ever going to be allowed to go free.”

  None of you. I think of Cara and Issie racing through the snow and silently pray that Issie’s brother is waiting for them right now, that he whisks them away somewhere Dr. Gruen won’t ever think to look.

  “Your fates were sealed the moment Jessica set foot inside Brunesfield.” Dr. Gruen picks something out from beneath her thumbnail. “Jessica can manipulate heat and fire, even though she was never part of the SciGirls program. That means the ability can be transferred between individuals.” Dr. Gruen wrinkles her nose. “Like an infection.”

  Jessica lurches forward onto her hands. Dr. Gruen examines her crumpled body with cold detachment. Like she’s an insect.

  I pull my leg to my chest and try to stand. The pain turns my stomach. “And you came to stop her from giving it to someone else?” I ask.

  “Infections need to be contained, Miss Davis. If Jessica’s talents can be transferred, it’s imperative that we know how. Brunesfield acted as a kind of quarantine, filled with would-be victims who had no families and no value to society. But after weeks inside that horrible facility, her pyretic ability hadn’t transferred to anyone. We’re still no closer to understanding how the infection spreads or where her power came from.”

  Dr. Gruen sighs, and turns to face the ruined window. “We have the bear, though. That’s something. I just hope it will tell us what we need to know. Now it’s time to dispose of the mess.”