“Chrys! Li said it’s okay!” She beams.
“I noticed.”
“Remy is a great artist!”
She takes my wrist and pulls me over to Remington’s desk. I tug my hand away from her, making her let me go.
“It’s nothing much,” Remington says, as he shades in a blue salamander-like creature with six protrusions from its body, each one having a scary fan of spiky limbs. That same creature is on his desk in plushie form.
“What on earth is that thing?” I say.
“Isn’t it so cute?” Ana Maria says as she grips the edge of Remington’s desk to peer over at the drawing. “It’s a nudibranch called Glaucus atlanticus. It’s also known as blue dragon or blue angel because of their majestic appearance. They’re poisonous and carnivorous. So cool, right?”
“Oh, sure. Very cool,” I say, backing away a bit. I want to stop looking at it.
Remington holds up the drawing in front of him. “Done, I think.” He hands it to Ana Maria. “Do you like it?”
She bounces up and down on the balls of her feet as she looks at it. “It’s perfect.”
Remington turns around in his seat. “By the way, Chrys, Ana Maria is great at sewing, so she can teach you if you want. She made all her stuffed sea slugs by hand.”
“All her sea slugs? There are more?” I say.
He points at the bunk across from his. I look over. On the desk, there are eight small plushies, all different shapes and colors, including the bunny sea slug she had been holding earlier. They’re all sea slugs, I guess, but they all look like alien or fantasy creatures.
Ana Maria looks up from the drawing. “I can introduce you to them.”
That passionate smile of hers is dangerous, I know it. I’ll end up being stuck here for hours hearing about sea slugs.
“Maybe some other time.” I look around the cabin. “Where’s Hunter?”
“He said he was going for a walk,” Remington says, “but that just means he’s sitting outside behind the cabin somewhere. You might have to go a bit in the forest to find him.”
I nod and go outside. As I expected, Remington is doing a good job of keeping Ana Maria entertained. He probably actually listens to her talk about sea slugs too. I shake my head as I walk around the cabin. I don’t know how he does it.
I reach the back of the cabin but don’t spot Hunter. I hear the faint sound of a somber flute melody coming from the forest. I go towards it. It feels kind of dangerous to follow it, like I’m walking straight into some sort of elvish trap.
The trees in this part of the forest have trunks so large I would struggle to wrap my arms around them. The trunks are spaced far apart but their branches with egg-shaped leaves touch to form a canopy overhead that only lets spots of sunlight through. The ground is mostly dirt and roots and moss.
Hunter is sitting at the base of a tree with no exposed roots. He has one leg out straight and one leg bent and is playing a shiny silver flute with eyes closed. His black backpack and an open black flute case sit on the ground next to him.
“I didn’t think you owned anything that isn’t black,” I say.
The flute melody cuts off abruptly when I start talking. He blushes, like he was caught doing something weird or wrong.
“I have some white and gray—or silver—things."
Hunter straightens his other leg and rests the flute on his thighs.
I sit down next to him, leaning against the base of the tree. From here, I can’t see Hunter anymore but I can feel his shoulder against mine. I shuffle a bit around the tree, so there’s some space between our shoulders.
“Did you bring that flute with you or is that a hobby you picked up here due to Remington’s nagging?”
He chuckles. “I brought it with me. I’ve been playing since the third grade.”
“That explains why you’re so good at it.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
A breeze blows past, rustling the leaves. It’s refreshing, but gone far too soon, making the air feel thicker and harder to breathe. I turn my head towards Hunter. All I can see are his legs covered in tight skinny jeans and sneakers—everything black.
“Why do you only wear black?” I say.
“Does it bother you?”
“No. I’m just curious why. It’s not exactly summer fashion.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just what I like.” He bends his legs, trapping the flute between his legs and chest. “Are you feeling okay?”
Am I okay? I guess so. I have a mess of emotions swirling around inside of me, everything from frustration to fear to nervous anticipation. And of course, there’s the normal gloominess that’s always underlying my emotions as my foundation. That gloominess that likes to rise up and wrap itself around me every chance it gets.
But all those emotions are dim and dull. Right now at least, I feel an odd sense of calm, blanketing everything else.
“You already know the answer to that,” I say. “Why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling?”
“I feel strange. Almost everyone is okay, even you. But it feels like no one should be okay, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Sometimes it can be hard to pick apart my own feelings from everyone else’s, especially in times like these, so my emotions are just… what everyone else feels I guess. But it’s disturbing me. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I think I get what you mean. It’s disturbing—the calmness. Despite what just happened.”
“Yeah, that’s part of it. But the other part is how I don’t really seem to be feeling anything of my own. I hate feeling like this, like I’m lost in the noise.”
“That’s how Valeria describes the stuff in her head too. So it’s noise for you too?”
“Not noise in the sense that it’s a sound, but in the sense that it’s loud. I feel it in my thoughts and my body. I feel like the real me, my real emotions are trapped in a tiny cage somewhere inside me and all that’s on the surface is what everyone else feels.”
“Do you know where the cage is?”
“Sometimes. But now? I don’t really know.” He sighs.
I start tugging on a gloved hand resting on my outstretched legs. I’ve always thought my gift is the worst. But maybe I’m wrong. My gift is frightening and morbid, yes, but it’s also pretty quiet. The only noise in my head are my thoughts and memories and emotions.
“Well, since you can’t find your own emotions, do you want to feel someone else’s happiness for a bit?” I say.
“Of course. I’d really like that.”
“Focus on me then,” I say.
I close my eyes and bring up the memories of me and Ron on the run. I find myself smiling as I remember when Ron noticed a man left his keys in his truck as he went into the gas station, so she jumped in and told me to get in quickly, so I did, heart pounding, and she sped off. At first, I was a ball of nerves but after a while, we both couldn’t stop laughing about it while Ron drove down the highway.
“What are you thinking about?” Hunter says, chasing away my memories.
I open my eyes. “Um, just some good memories with a friend of mine.”
“Your friend really makes you happy.”
“Yeah, she’s a good friend. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“That’s nice,” he says. “I wish I still had my old friends.”
Hunter puts the flute down somewhere out of sight and shifts so he’s away from the tree trunk, facing me and sitting cross-legged. He leans over and takes one of my hands, interrupting my fidgeting. He pulls the glove off.
“You shouldn’t wear these,” he says.
I try to think of something to say to him, but my mind has gone blank for the first time in a long time. My heart has sped up, but the emptiness in my head doesn’t give me a clue why.
He pulls off the
other glove. He rests them on his knee and leans away from me, sitting with a slight hunch.
I look at him but he isn’t looking at me, his gaze down at his legs. The black ends of his hair blow into his face as another breeze passes by us.
A squirrel runs past me and climbs up the tree I’m leaning against.
I rub my hands on my legs, getting the sweat off them. Thoughts are starting to flow back into my mind. The reason why I came to see Hunter in the first place floats through my mind lazily.
“Ah.” My voice breaking the silence sounds shockingly loud. I lower it. “Li wants you and me to go into town tomorrow, for the investigation.”
“Just me and you?” His head is still bowed down and his hair covers most of his face.
“Yeah. We think someone there might be responsible for what happened to Adrien. My friend is there, looking into it a bit right now. We’ll leave tomorrow after she sends me an update.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“Then, I’m going to head back to the cabin now. You coming?”
“Oh, uh, no. I’ll stay here until the funeral.”
I look at my watch. About half an hour left.
“Okay.” I take my gloves from his knee and get up.
I dust my legs off a bit and leave Hunter there.
Back in the cabin, Ana Maria reveals to me that the only things she brought with her in her backpack are her stuffed sea slugs, a sewing kit and some fabric and cotton stuffing for her next plushie. She shows me how to cut the fabric and then she shows me some basic stitches. I’m not particularly interested, but she’s so excited about it and I don’t have anything better to do so I just watch in silence as she chatters about hand sewing and sea slugs.
A bit later, Hunter comes back into the cabin and we all go to the pavilion for Adrien’s funeral. I make sure to put my gloves back on before heading out and Hunter frowns at me but doesn’t say anything.
Like Li said, the funeral is a short ceremony lasting just half an hour or so. Li talks about him for a bit and then some of his friends and the supervisor of his cabin—that bald man whose name is James apparently—also say some words about him. Then we have a moment of silence and leave.
There’s no casket. I don’t know what they did with Adrien’s body.
In the cabin again, I read some of the meditation book up on my bed as Ana Maria continues working on her plushie, Remington draws something at his desk, and Hunter listens to music with large black headphones while laying down in his bed.
Then, we go to dinner, where Hunter and I talk about going into town tomorrow. Remington snatches some board games from the storage room and makes us all play them in the cabin after dinner. At first, no one really wants to play, but somehow, we end up sitting on that burgundy rug on the floor playing well past midnight.
It isn’t until Remington spots Ana Maria yawning every two seconds that he finally suggests going to bed. We leave the game of Monopoly on the floor as it is, vowing to come back and finish it tomorrow morning.
We all climb up to our beds. I fall asleep quickly.
Chapter 20
Screaming.
I bolt upright in my bed, looking around wildly and then at my watch, but I can’t see anything in the darkness.
“What is that?” Ana Maria says, distraught.
“It sounds close,” Hunter says, sounding oddly alert.
“Hold on, I’ll turn on the light,” Remington says, yawning.
Remington’s bunk creaks as he climbs down the ladder. His footsteps are slow and heavy across the floor.
The light comes on.
I blink away tears from the brightness, and head down the ladder.
“I think it’s coming from Cabin 9,” Hunter says as he climbs down his ladder too.
Remington opens the door and goes out, the two of us a bit behind, having to step around the board game on the floor.
“Wait for me!” Ana Maria says.
“Stay here,” I say as I go out the door.
Rain beats down on me, warm and unexpected. I see the shapes of others heading over, blurred by the rain. The lights are on in Cabin 9, and some of the other cabins too.
Soon after, Ana Maria runs up to me and Hunter.
“I told you to stay,” I say.
She just holds onto my arm and sticks herself to my side. I sigh and continue going to Cabin 9.
The screaming stops for a second and then pierces through the night again.
Remington has already gone inside, leaving the door wide open.
We jog up the steps and go through the door, stopping as soon as we get inside, our breaths caught in our throats.
Valeria is kneeling on the floor near the door, next to what is probably her bunk. Her hands are over her eyes, covered in blood. It drips through her fingers, joining a large pool of blood on the floor. She’s sobbing loudly, a choking and shrill sound.
Jayden and Tam—those boys who knocked me out and brought me to that clearing in the forest a couple days ago—are standing behind Valeria, the tips of their toes in her blood. They’re hyperventilating loudly, mouths dropped open and eyes fixed on Valeria. An older girl with hair dyed pink, who I’ve seen around but never spoken to, is sitting up in the bunk bed across from Valeria’s. She’s looking down, screaming and screaming.
Remington took off his white T-shirt and is now ripping it into strips with quick hands as he kneels on the floor next to Valeria, his knees red and sticky.
Ana Maria lets go of my arm and takes a couple hesitant steps forward.
“I-I can heal you,” she says.
“No!” Valeria shouts.
The pink-haired girl finally stops screaming, but her mouth is still wide open and tears stream through closed eyes.
Ana Maria stops where she is. “Just… let me heal you, and the pain will go away.”
“No,” Valeria says with a shaky voice. “I don’t want to see it anymore.”
Ana Maria looks back at me. “What should I do?”
In that moment, the smart-ass, mature Ana Maria is gone. She looks at me with wide, child-like eyes, searching my face for guidance.
“I don’t know,” I say. “If you heal her, then you’ll be in pain.”
“Yes but I can heal that in a couple hours. Who knows how long she’ll be in pain before that heals naturally.”
“Regardless, she doesn’t want you to, so I don’t think you should,” I say.
“Chrys, is that you?” Valeria says.
I step forward. “Yes, it’s me.”
Remington has finished preparing the strips of fabric. He starts to wrap it around Valeria’s eyes but she pushes him away, smearing blood on his chest.
“Just let me wrap your eyes, Val,” he says gently. “We have to contain the bleeding and get you to the infirmary.”
He tries to wrap her eyes again and this time, she lets him.
“Chrys,” Valeria says. “It worked so much better than I thought it would. It’s so much quieter now. All the noise. It’s still here kind of—I can still remember it—but it’s so much quieter now.” She winces in pain for a moment. “Maybe if you cut your hands off, you’d get the same effect.” She chuckles dryly, gasping in between chuckles.
Before I can reply, Elise pushes past me and Hunter and kneels in front of Valeria as Remington ties a knot behind her head. The cloth in front of her eyes is already soaked through, a deep crimson.
Elise helps Valeria up and guides her out of the cabin.
*Do not follow us. Go back to your cabins.
Looking out the door, I see a group of people has gathered at the entrance, getting soaked in the rain. They move aside to let Elise and Valeria through. The two of them go across the field. No one follows.
We all stand there and watch until their shapes become completely obscured by the
darkness and the rain. The others who are standing outside start to disperse.
“Oh god,” a girl says from up above. “Will she be okay?”
I look up. The pink-haired girl has her eyes open now and is looking down at Remington.
Remington looks at the pool of blood and then at Jayden and Tam. “You two, go clean your feet and then stay in Cabin 11 for the time being.” Jayden and Tam nod blankly and head to the bathroom to do as he said.
He looks up at the girl. “Come on, I’ll help you down and then you can go to Cabin 11 too.”
“What about…?” She points at the ground.
“Don’t worry about it,” Remington says. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get on you and then I’ll clean it up.”
“I’ll get some rags from the supply closet,” Hunter says.
Remington nods at him, so Hunter heads out into the rain.
Remington’s lower legs and chest have blood on them but his hands and arms are still clean. The girl goes down the ladder and into Remington’s arms. He holds her away from his chest and carries her past the blood. As soon as he sets her down she runs out.
“Do you need help with anything else?” I say.
He shakes his head. “Just take Ana Maria back to our cabin.”
Ana Maria is still standing there, looking down at the pool of blood. I tap her on the shoulder through her T-shirt sleeve with my ungloved hands.
“Come on, let’s go,” I say to her.
She turns away from the scene and takes my arm, leaning close against me again. I walk her back to our cabin.
I bring a towel from the bathroom and dry off Ana Maria’s long hair as she sits on the rug staring at the board game. Valeria’s words to me keep ringing through my head. It worked. Blinding herself worked. So much better than she thought it would, too. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
By the time Ana Maria’s hair is mostly dry, my tiny afro and clothes have mostly dried off too. I bring the towel into the bathroom and hang it up to dry.
When I come back into the room, Ana Maria, fiddling with her monopoly game piece on the board, says, “Do you know how to cut hair?”
Gift of Death (Gifted Book 1) Page 13
