Gift of Death (Gifted Book 1)

by Lin Augustine

  “Wait a minute,” Ron whispers, pushing Giselle so they’re both away from the window. “The laptop still has power. He’s using it.”

  Giselle’s brows furrow. “Then what happened to Noah?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The both peek in the window again. Carl is still typing, fingers flying over the keyboard.

  “He’s definitely still using it,” Giselle says, when they lean away from the window again. “Maybe Noah isn’t dead.”

  Ron shakes her head. “Then why would he cry like that? The cord did go into Noah’s head, so maybe there was an infection.”

  “It’s possible.” Giselle stands up. “But anyway, looks like they don’t need our help, so let’s just go.”

  Ron nods, getting up. They walk around the side of the house slowly and then pick up the generator and propane canister and head back to the store.

  “Why do you think Carl did that to his brother in the first place?” Giselle says as she rolls the generator behind her.

  “I think he’s doing experiments on him to develop a new technology or something. On that laptop, I saw Noah talking to a boy, saying ‘help me.’ And in Iris’s dream, that’s what Noah said too—help me. I’m pretty sure Noah is gifted. Maybe the screen shows what’s, like, in Noah’s mind.”

  “That’s not possible. Technology isn’t that advanced.”

  Ron shrugs. “Maybe Carl found a way to do it.”

  They reach the store, so Giselle opens it. They return the generator and the propane. Giselle locks the store.

  “Are you guys not going to keep the store open today?” Ron asks.

  Giselle sighs. “I guess not. Iris doesn’t seem to be in the mood.”

  “But can’t you do it?” Ron asks as they walk up the exterior stairs.

  “It’s Iris’s store.”

  “But you have keys to it and you go out to buy products, too. I’d say it’s both of yours, wouldn’t you?”

  “No, it’s Iris’s. She’s very stubborn about running the store herself. Something about her father.”

  They open the door and enter the living room. Iris is nowhere to be seen.

  Ron spots their laptop still on the table by the couch. She points at it. “Do you mind if I use your laptop again?”

  “Go for it.”

  Giselle walks down the hall and closes a door softly.

  Ron sits at the couch and pulls the laptop on her lap, opening it. Ron left it charging overnight, so it has a full battery. She unplugs the power cord. The power is still out so it isn’t charging anymore.

  The first thing she does is check her email.

  So her suspicion was correct. Noah is gifted and it has something to do with dreams. But Chrys said he can make things that happen in dreams happen in real life too. In that case, why didn’t the monster in Iris’s dream come to life? She’d have to ask Chrys about the logistics of it when she comes later. If she comes.

  God, Ron hopes she comes.

  And then, Giselle’s brother. He’s in the camp, like Giselle suspected, but Ron figures it’s best not to tell Giselle she knows. If Iris and Giselle find out her friend is gifted and in the camp, they’d have no reason to trust her anymore.

  But it’s strange to think how close the brother and sister have been all these years—one in the camp in the forest and one in the small town nearby. They’ve probably both known where the other was this whole time, so why is he trying to contact her now?

  Maybe he knows his sister still holds a grudge for the scars he gave her. Maybe he’s hoping Giselle has forgiven him by now.

  The gift of fire. Ron hopes he’s learned to control his gift over time. Otherwise, Chrys is in danger.

  Does Chrys even know what his gift is? Does everyone there know what everyone’s gift is, including Chrys’s?

  Ron certainly hoped not. Chrys couldn’t even trust Ron to know what her gift is, so it’s unlikely she’d tell anyone else.

  Ron has so many questions, so many things she wants to say to Chrys, but she decides not to answer the email. If Chrys isn’t coming, she’ll send an update. And if Chrys is coming, then she’d be on her way already.

  Maybe she’s already almost here.

  Ron closes the laptop and puts it back on the table. She wants to meet Chrys before Chrys finds Giselle. Hopefully, she’ll be walking into town the normal way, and not with some strange gift or something.

  Stomach fluttering with excitement, Ron gets up and heads outside. As she goes down the stairs, she sees Carl walking down the path between those two houses to the store. He’s talking loudly on the phone and has the scanner gun clipped to the side of his belt.

  “I don’t know what happened!” he shouts, raising his other arm in the air, exasperated. “But it still works. Nothing has changed.”

  He tries to open the door of the store as Ron reaches the bottom of the stairs. It doesn’t open but he pulls the handle angrily a couple times.

  “The store is closed today,” Ron says.

  He turns to her and narrows his eyes. He pulls the phone away from his ear and presses it to his chest. “What would you know about that, huh?”

  “Well, seeing that the door refuses to open, I’d say it’s just common sense, wouldn’t you? Besides, Giselle told me it probably won’t be open today. Maybe check back later.”

  “Just mind your own business.” He turns away and brings the phone back to his ear. “I’m telling you, it’s ready and it works.” He starts to walk back in the direction of his cabin. “Of course I have proof. I mean—”

  Ron watches as he leaves, trying to hear as much as she can of his conversation.

  “No,” he continues, now past the two houses. “I mean, I haven’t seen it with my own eyes, but I’m pretty sure—” Another pause. When he starts talking again, Ron can barely hear him. “I’ll prove it to you. Just let me…”

  She can hear that he’s still speaking but can’t make out the words anymore, so she heads to the entrance of town, where the highway turns off into Bluewater. Her mind is churning—thoughts of Chrys coming and Noah dying and Carl talking all flooding her mind.

  It works. Nothing has changed.

  He could have been talking about the scanner, or about whatever he made on that laptop. He could even be talking about something else. Who knows the number of things he has invented. But whatever it is, it seems like he’s going to get concrete proof of it to show someone. What kind of proof will he try to get?

  Ron is near the entrance. She sits down on the sidewalk, in the shade of a tree, looking out at the entrance.

  She waits.

  Chapter 27

  By the time Hunter and I make it to the entrance of the town, we’ve had four bottles of water and two sandwiches between us. The town looks sleepy and quiet. Even as we walked along the highway, only one or two cars drove by.

  We turn into the town, walking on the sidewalk.

  “Chrys!”

  I look across the road. Ron is running toward me, arms out. She barrels into me and hugs me tightly, picking me up off the ground. I can’t even hug her back because she’s pinning my arms to my side.

  When she finally puts me down, she says, “I got your email.”

  “I take it this is your friend,” Hunter says beside me.

  Ron turns her attention to him and looks him up and down with a face like she’s smelling something bad.

  “Yeah,” I say to him. “This is my friend Ron. And Ron, this is Hunter. He’s in my cabin too.”

  Ron’s eyes go wide. “This isn’t… you know, Giselle’s?”

  “No, no. Giselle’s brother is a guy named Remington—”

  “Remy,” Hunter cuts in.

  I wave him away. “Whatever. Anyway, Hunter just tagged along because he wants some snacks or something.” Hunter raises a finger, ab
out to say something, but I keep talking. “So it looks like you know who this Giselle person is? Can you tell me where she lives? I’ll just drop off the envelope.”

  “Yeah, funny story,” Ron says. “I’ve been staying with Giselle, and her wife, Iris, this whole time.”

  “Ron! Why are you—why would you—”

  Ron spreads her arms out innocently. “They run the store in town. Things just happened that way because I went to the store when I first got here. But anyway, best to give Giselle the letter after you leave. Don’t wanna make her suspicious. How long’ll you be staying?”

  I smile. Ron has this way of talking super properly when she’s around white people, and I can tell that she’s been talking properly for a while. Maybe I do it too—I don’t really know. But I feel so much more comfortable talking to her, less self-conscious, and I can tell she’s starting to shake off that properness as she talks to me.

  “Just for a couple hours,” I say. “Gotta go back before sunset. I’m gonna try the last task tomorrow.”

  “That’s great! But there’s not much to do in this town and I’m pretty sure the power is still out, so maybe Iris and Giselle won’t mind if I invite you back to their place.”

  “The power is out?” Hunter asks.

  We both turn to him, having forgotten he was still there.

  Ron drops her smile as she looks at him and stands up a little straighter, the properness taking its hold once more. “Yeah, it went out suddenly this morning.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  She sighs. “Do I look like the electric company to you?” She turns back to me, relaxing a bit. “I’ve been sitting out here for a couple hours, so maybe the power is back now. No way to really tell from here.”

  I nod. “Well, since those two own a store, why don’t we head there so Hunter can buy his snacks?”

  “It’s closed today, but I’ll ask them if they don’t mind opening it for a bit.”

  She links my arm with hers and pushes past Hunter. Usually I would break free but I decide to let her have this one. As long as she doesn’t touch my hands, it’s fine.

  We walk farther into town, Hunter trailing behind us. We pass old-looking two-story buildings on each side. I can’t tell if they’re houses or businesses because none of them have signs.

  After about five minutes of walking, Ron stops us at a building that looks almost like all the others, but up close, I can see shelves stocked with food and products through the large windows.

  “Wait here for a bit,” Ron says. “I’ll go ask Giselle if she can open the store for you guys.”

  I nod and Ron jogs up the staircase attached to the side of the building.

  “You two seem really close,” Hunter says.

  “Yeah, she’s like a sister to me,” I say.

  He chuckles. “I kind of feel like a third wheel.”

  “Oh, sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine. It doesn’t really bother me. I just came for chips, right?” He shrugs.

  Something about the way he said that last part makes me feel uneasy. “Well you did, didn’t you? I mean, why else would you come?”

  He just shrugs again.

  “Chrys,” Ron calls out from the top of the staircase. “Come upstairs. They want to meet you.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say. I wasn’t expecting to go into their home, but seeing that they let Ron stay there all this time, they must be pretty hospitable people.

  I start to go up the stairs but Hunter isn’t following. I turn back. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Well it seems like she specifically said they want to meet you, so I’m not sure if I should come or not.”

  I sigh. “Just come on.”

  I head up the stairs, this time hearing Hunter coming up behind me. Ron holds the door open for us and then closes it behind us. We’re in a small living room attached to an open kitchen, both decorated in an old-fashioned style. A dark-haired woman with burn scars on her thighs is sitting on a blue, plastic-covered sofa, her head leaning against her arm on the armrest.

  She must be Giselle.

  A red-haired, heavily-freckled woman hurries over to them, carrying a tray with five glasses of lemonade on it. “Come, have a seat.”

  She brings them over to the living room. She puts the tray on the table—a wood stump—and sits down in the red armchair by the sofa.

  I survey the area. There are four seats and five people. I sit on the ground by the table, across from the sofa. Hunter sits next to me on the ground, and Ron sits on the sofa, a space between her and the dark-haired woman who I assume is Giselle.

  The red-haired woman smiles and says, “So you must be Chrys. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, nice to meet you too,” I say. “And you are…?”

  Ron jumps in. “She’s Iris, and this is her wife, Giselle.”

  Giselle nods, a lazy look in her eyes.

  Ron gestures to me. “This is my friend, Chrys.” She gestures to Hunter. “And this is, uh, her boyfriend, Hunter.”

  I snap my gaze to Ron, glaring at her. Why the hell would she say that?

  She’s smiling at me mischievously. She must be bored and wants to play around a little. She always lies so smoothly, like it’s no big deal. That used to upset me because I was never sure if she was lying to me or not, but after a while, I realized she doesn’t lie to me and so I came to admire her skill.

  But now, I don’t find it particularly praise-worthy.

  Iris leans over, resting her arms on her bare thighs, an excited look on her face. “Ooh, romance! I love romance! How long have you been dating?”

  I flash a pained smile and then turn to Hunter, gesturing for him to tell her.

  His face has gone red and he looks flustered. “Oh, um, just a couple of months.”

  “Ah it’s still fresh!” Iris claps her hands, delighted. “The honeymoon phase. You should cherish it now. Trust me.”

  “What are you saying?” Giselle says, speaking for the first time. Her words sound accusatory, but her tone is just plain, like she doesn’t really care, but she’s saying what she knows Iris wants to hear.

  Iris pouts. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You never do anything romantic anymore.”

  “I’ve never done anything romantic ever,” Giselle says. “You know I’m not that kind of person.”

  “Yeah, me either,” I chime in, chuckling nervously.

  “See?” Giselle gestures to me. “Chrys gets it.”

  “Hunter, are you a romantic person?” Ron asks with that same mischievous smile. She’s getting a kick out of this.

  Hunter blinks rapidly. His face becomes an even deeper shade of red. “Well, I-I mean, I just do whatever Chrys wants.”

  Ron’s smile vanishes and she narrows her eyes at him.

  “That’s nice, Hunter,” Iris says, “I wish Giselle would do what I want.”

  Giselle spreads her arms out, placating. “What do you want then, Iris?”

  “Flowers would be nice. Or an apology.” Iris looks at Giselle pointedly.

  “I’m not going to apologize for that. Ron and I did what we had to do.”

  “And for what? Put yourselves in danger unnecessarily!”

  Giselle narrows her eyes, a fierce change from her previous lazy expression. “Iris, let’s talk about this later.”

  Iris leans back in the chair with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Chrys,” Ron says, her tone sounding light, but I can sense the seriousness in it. “I just remembered I need to show you something.” She stands up. “Will you come with me for a moment?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  She leads me down the hallway into a small bedroom on the right. This room is also decorated in such a grandma’s style, with weird dolls on the dresser and a thin quilt toppin
g the queen-sized bed.

  Ron shuts the door behind us. She gently pushes me a bit into the room and says in a low voice, “Are you two actually dating?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that boy likes you.”

  I shake my head. “Definitely not. We just met a couple days ago. Who starts liking someone, in just a couple of days?”

  Ron sighs. “Chrys, everyone does! That’s normal. Some people even fall in love at first sight.”

  “Love at first sight is superficial, based entirely on appearances—”

  “Anyway, don’t you kind of get the vibe that he might be into you?”

  “I don’t get that vibe at all. I think you’re just seeing what you want to see.”

  “I think you’re seeing what you want to see. You’ve always been pretty oblivious to this kind of thing. I mean, you didn’t even notice Treyvon liked you and he was so obvious about it.”

  “Treyvon? He was our foster brother. He was just being nice.”

  Ron folds her arms and shakes her head slowly, disappointed. “Definitely oblivious.”

  I wave my hand, annoyed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Hunter doesn’t like me and he knows I don’t like him.”

  “You’ve talked about it? How could he know?”

  “It’s his gift. He can sense emotions. I’ve never felt anything like that toward him so he would know that.”

  Ron drops her arms. “Oh my god, that’s so sad.”

  “It’s not sad because he doesn’t feel that way either.”

  “That poor thing.”

  I groan. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to finish the third task and then leave anyway. No time for romance.”

  “You wouldn’t consider staying in the camp for him?”

  “Why would I do that? I’d much rather be with you. Do you want to stay here or something?”

  “No, it’s just… I don’t know. This is kind of bothering me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. It just does. I mean, haven’t you ever had a crush on someone? It’s pretty painful when they don’t like you back.”

  “Of course I haven’t. Who would I have a crush on? You’ve probably also never—”