Salt & Stone

by Victoria Scott

  “What were you thinking?” I hiss. “She could have died.”

  “That’s why I had to save her,” he mutters.

  “I meant Harper.”

  Jaxon crouches down and picks Rose up. She pours over his arms, and I can tell he’s laboring from her girth. He clutches the iguana close and doesn’t respond.

  “You should have saved Harper first, Jaxon.”

  “And lose my chance to save my baby sister?” he screams suddenly, his face contorted. “That’s who I’m here for. My little sister. She’s only eleven years old, Tella! I thought I was screwed when Dink killed Z-54, ’cause how could I win the race without a Pandora? Remember how killing one was part of the last leg of the race? I do! And now I have this Pandora that can help me….” His head drops so that his chin rests on his chest.

  I don’t know how to feel. We’re all here to save someone we care about. But Jaxon saw Harper in the ocean; he saw how she struggled to stay above water; and he threw the rescue tube to a Pandora because he believes she will help him win the race. This is what the Brimstone Bleed does to people. Makes us choose between lives. Makes us less human and more animal, desperate to protect our pack mates above all else.

  “Take Rose into the hold,” I tell him. “I’ll be down in a sec.”

  Jaxon marches away without another word, his Pandora’s tail dragging behind him.

  I stride through the rain toward the crew’s quarters. I need to grab the candles and matches before I visit the hold, in case Rose stops glowing and we’re left in the dark. When I open the door, I find Harper and Cotton scowling at each other from across the room, as if they are one heartbeat away from manslaughter.

  “What’s going on?” I demand.

  “This idiot thinks I need saving,” Harper practically screams. “That’s what’s going on.”

  Cotton taps his temple like Harper is crazy. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were underwater when I found you.”

  “If I’d had my Pandora, it wouldn’t have been an issue.” Harper swings her attention to me.

  I flinch from the sting of her words, because she’s right. When I’d made that call, I didn’t know if it was the right one, only that someone had to do something for the animals. “I need you two to get in the hold.”

  “Who put you in charge, Tella? Whoever it was must have been blind, because so far your orders have been crap.” Harper pushes past me, and Cotton follows her out. I turn to check that they’re heading toward the hold, then I lean against the doorway and let my head fall back, thankful that the rain hides my shame.

  I allow myself one moment of guilt before chasing after Harper and Cotton. I want to ensure that everyone and all the Pandoras are safely below. Then I have to think of a way to get Guy off the deck. He can’t be out there in this storm. We may believe he’s indestructible, but I know better, and he shouldn’t be expected to steer our vessel while we seek shelter.

  I enter the hold and watch as Olivia spots Harper and her eyes fill with tears. She rushes forward to hug the Contender, but before she can, Willow throws herself into Harper’s arms. Willow pulls on her until Harper kneels on the ground and whispers in the child’s ear.

  “I told them what happened,” Braun says.

  “Glad the girl is okay,” Mr. Larson adds, though he certainly didn’t stay and help.

  “Is everyone here?” I ask, patting Madox and Monster assuredly. “Is anyone missing their Pandora?”

  When no one answers, and I feel satisfied that they’ll be safe, I turn to fetch Guy, as if he is the type of dude who needs fetching.

  I stop short.

  Guy is standing at the foot of the stairs, the top to his wet suit gone. Rainwater races down his chest, tracing firm muscles before free-falling to the floor. Dark hair is plastered against his forehead, and his long, wet eyelashes do nothing to soften the fever in his eyes. He takes a step toward me. Another.

  He grips my wrist and pulls me toward him. “Come with me. Now.”

  Guy drags me behind him, and I struggle every step of the way. Underneath it all, I am still the girl who loves strawberry cheesecake and lavender pillow spray (it totally helps you sleep), and I am still the girl who would rather Guy be present than fumble with how to survive this race on my own. But I won’t be led through the rain like a stray dog without fighting.

  He drags me inside the captain’s quarters and slams the door. I yank my wrist free and go to slap his cheek, because if my brother were here to see this, that’s exactly what he would do — but with a fist instead.

  Guy dodges my slap, which I find wildly insulting. I turn to leave, not sure where I’m going but knowing I don’t want to be anywhere near him after he manhandled me in such a manner. Before I get beyond his reach, he grabs me by the waist, spins me around, and takes two quick steps so that I am forced against the back of the door.

  He is everywhere at once, filling up the small space with his bare chest wet from rain and his blue eyes that paralyze me in the most infuriating way. His body presses against mine, his lips so close, I could weep. My pulse races, and my legs grow weak, and wasn’t I just angry?

  “What were you thinking out there?” he asks, his voice dangerously deep.

  I raise my chin. “I was treating them as equals. I was acknowledging that our team members are an asset, not a liability.”

  He strides away, and I glimpse the pink scars hugging his rib cage and the hawk tattoo over his right shoulder. “Why are you going against everything I say? You did everything wrong out there.”

  “Excuse me?” I say, hardly able to contain my anger.

  “What were you thinking, climbing onto that railing?” He turns around and points an accusing finger in my direction. “I saw you. I saw what you were going to do.”

  “Harper was in the water,” I yell.

  Guy mumbles something.

  “Speak up, Chambers.”

  “I said, I don’t care!” he roars.

  He’s shaking, though from the cold and the rain or from what he’s saying, I’m not sure. “Do you have something to say to me?”

  His urgent steps swallow the distance between us, and suddenly his hands are grasping my face. His eyes search mine, and his nostrils flare. He doesn’t say anything. He never says anything.

  “Why don’t you trust me?” I whisper. “You said I’d still be in that jungle if it weren’t for you. Do you find me that helpless?”

  Understanding and hurt flash in Guy’s eyes, but they’re gone so quickly, I wonder if I imagined them. He releases me. “I came here to save my cousin’s life,” he says. “And now I can’t think beyond keeping you safe. The only way I can do that is if you do what I say, when I say it.”

  My hands curl into fists. “You may know the best way to survive this race, Guy Chambers, but you know nothing about working as a team. How can I trust you once we get inside headquarters if you don’t trust me to think for myself?” I tilt my head to the side, give him a chance to redeem himself. “Tell me you trust me. Tell me you don’t see me as someone who needs saving.”

  He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Destroying the race was never meant to be our plan.”

  I step past him, crushed at his response.

  With Guy silent behind me, I inspect the captain’s quarters. The area is the same size as the crew’s quarters, which seems unfair since it’s built for one person. There’s a sturdy mahogany desk near a wall of windows, and outside, I note that the rain isn’t falling as severely as it once was. In the corner stands a queen-size bed with a deep red comforter that looks velvety to the touch. And overhead, a green glass candleholder dangles from the ceiling, lit from within by a thick candle.

  To my left is a door that must lead to a latrine. Why have we been sharing one latrine all day when there was a second one in here? What’s more, who will sleep here tonight? Will Guy claim this room as his own while the rest of us share a cramped space? I’m about to pose these questions, but when I spin around,
Guy’s face suddenly opens with alarm. “What happened to your shoulder?”

  Pain ignites in the puncture wounds when I recall the injury. “I’m fine. AK-7 did what he had to do to keep me from going overboard.”

  “I’ll get the first-aid kit,” he says, as if he’s relieved to have something to do.

  “Don’t bother. I don’t need your help.” I brush past him, open the door, and stride out into the dying storm. Each time I’m around Guy, I’m conflicted. One moment, he makes me feel protected and cared for; the next, he’s undermining my ability as a Contender in the race. He said I did everything wrong, but as the rain relents and the thunder once again grows distant, I wonder if that’s true.

  We survived. Every last one of us and our Pandora companions, too. The ship made it through intact, and we have food and water to last us the rest of the journey. I can’t help thinking that at least one group of Contenders out there was not as lucky. Maybe I didn’t make the calls Guy would have tonight, but I went with my gut and didn’t cower when the storm was on top of us. In short, the girl I am tonight is a far cry from the girl I was six weeks ago. I believe if he saw me now, I would make my big brother proud.

  After I open the hatch door, I descend the stairs and find most of the Contenders and Pandoras lying on the floor. Relief is etched into the lines on their faces, because even down here it’s easy to tell the worst has passed. Though the storm lasted a little over an hour, it feels as if we battled it all night.

  “It’s safe to go up,” I say. “I think the girls should sleep in one place, and the guys in another. That way, we can maintain some privacy. We can leave the hatch door open, and the Pandoras can go above and below deck as they please in case it starts raining again.”

  Mr. Larson grabs three cans of tuna and two bottles of water as if he’s preparing for something. For what, I have no idea.

  “You girls should take the captain’s quarters,” Cotton says.

  When no one argues, Harper leads Willow upstairs, and Olivia follows behind, but only after hugging her baby elephant good-bye. Soon after, the boys trail upstairs. Cotton is the last to leave. I grab him by the arm and jerk him toward me. When Jaxon’s skinny butt disappears through the hatch door and it’s only me and Cotton left, I push my face close to his. Or as close as I can, considering I have to stand on tiptoes to even pretend to be threatening.

  “What were you doing out there? Why did you grab me like that?”

  His full lips form a tight line.

  “Answer me.”

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he says.

  “So you thought you’d pin me in place and just stare at me like a creeper?”

  Cotton grinds his teeth and continues to avoid my gaze.

  I sigh, fingering the blue-and-green feather over my right shoulder. “Look, we all panicked to some degree, but don’t touch me like that again, understand?”

  From the corner of the hold, a large, dark figure emerges. The hair on my arms rises. It’s Cotton’s bull, and apparently, he doesn’t like the way I’m speaking to his Contender. Cotton holds his hand out to stop Y-21, and the bull complies. When I glance over my shoulder, I spot Monster and Madox eyeing the bull, a challenge in their stances, though Madox seems a bit more hesitant about the potential face-off than AK-7.

  “Tella,” Cotton says gently.

  When he doesn’t add anything, I grow uncomfortable. I don’t know how to feel about Cotton. He’s much like Guy in his cool, quiet mannerism, but he’s older, and a darkness seems to cloak his broad shoulders. He saved Harper, but I can’t forget the way he looked at me out there as lightning ripped across the sky.

  He opens his mouth, hesitates. “You remind me of my little sister.”

  “Oh.” I clear my throat, and my cheeks burn. “Is that who you’re racing for?”

  He shakes his head. “No, my sister … she was murdered years ago.”

  His words hit me like a wrecking ball to the gut. Here I was, judging him, after everything he’d been through. No wonder he’s peculiar. If Cody had been killed, I’d be a walking zombie.

  “I’m here for my father,” Cotton adds. His forearms tighten. “I have to save him.”

  What he doesn’t say is that he can’t lose somebody else, and I empathize with that. I’m working out the right thing to say to comfort him when the sound of someone descending the stairs stops me.

  Harper stands staring at us, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

  “You should be in bed, Harper.” I go and wrap my arm around her shoulders, and this time she accepts my embrace. “Come on. Come with me.”

  I turn back to Cotton. He plays with something invisible on the hem of his wet suit top. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. Before I lead Harper away, I notice black hair dye dripping down his neck. I wonder if he has a closet full of black clothes back home, too. Some may mistake Cotton as an emo kid, but sometimes black is a fashion statement, and other times it screams of sorrow. Still, as a girl who knows a good dye job, I’m impressed by his lack of roots showing after six weeks in the Brimstone Bleed. If I ever make it out of here, maybe I should ask him for some style tips.

  I hug AK-7 good night and scratch beneath the bear’s chin, and then I do the same for Madox. Though Harper prides herself on being detached from her Pandora, I see the way she smooths the eagle’s feathers before turning away.

  Be good, sweet boy, I think to Madox.

  He wags his tail.

  As I walk Harper back to the captain’s quarters, my mind works its way through everything that happened tonight. More than anything, I cling to the exchange Guy and I had. He wants to destroy the Brimstone Bleed alone, but that mission became my own the moment he told me the truth. Guy says telling anyone else about what’s really going on will put them in more danger. But these days, I’m thinking for myself, for better or worse.

  “Harper, wait.” I inspect the deck to ensure we won’t be heard. The soft, lingering rain will help smother our conversation. “Before we go inside, I need to tell you something.”

  I tell Harper the whole story. I tell her how a dangerous man named Santiago ordered genetic engineers to create mutant animals for profit and how the anxious engineers burned down the facility to destroy their work. I tell her how Santiago’s daughter was inside the burning building and how she died at the hands of an accident.

  I tell her the rest, too. How Santiago created the Brimstone Bleed as punishment for those who killed his daughter. How, today, people related to the original engineers are chosen — one to be injected with a virus, one to race, and one to create those same mutant animals that may help their chances of survival.

  “Today, the genetic engineers are called Creators. The animals are called Pandoras, and the Cure is simply the antivirus.” I don’t know what I expect Harper to do when I tell her what I know, but it isn’t to walk away. “Where are you going?”

  She holds up a finger as if I should stay put and returns with a white box. “Let’s go inside.”

  I follow her into the captain’s quarters, and we find Willow already asleep in the bed, her white rat curled on her chest, even though I’d said to keep the Pandoras outside so that it was fair to everyone. Olivia sits at the desk, her eyes widening ever so slightly when we come in. She opens her mouth to say something but stops.

  “Sit there.” Harper points to a chair in front of the desk, ignoring Olivia entirely.

  I do as she instructs, because quite frankly, it feels good to have someone tell me what to do after such an exhausting ordeal. But then I remember Harper in the ocean. Harper vanishing from sight. “You should be lying down.” I start to stand up, but she guides me back into the chair.

  “Take your top off so I can dress your wound.” Harper sets the white box, the first-aid kit, onto the desk and pops it open.

  I tug my top off and cover my bare chest as best I can. I remember a time when I would have been embarrassed to flash a ten-year-old. Those were the days.

  �
�What happened?” Olivia whispers.

  I smile in her direction. “Nothing major. AK-7 got a little excited in his enthusiasm to protect me.”

  She grins, but I note the fear in her eyes. “Wish we still had DN-99. Remember how that raccoon could lick Ransom’s wounds and make them heal like —” She snaps her fingers. Then, slowly, her smile begins to fade. “I wonder where they take the Pandoras they don’t use anymore.”

  “Probably back to a retirement area,” I answer quickly. “Bet they spend the rest of their days playing with each other and just being lazy.”

  Olivia’s face relaxes, and this time there’s no lingering worry. As Harper rubs a cool cream over my left shoulder, I tell the girl, “Why don’t you go get in bed with Willow? There’s room enough for both of you.”

  Olivia’s upper lip stiffens.

  “Don’t be difficult,” Harper says. “Do as she says.”

  The girl turns her face away so that Harper can’t see the hurt she inflicted, but I catch it all the same. My eyes snap up to Harper’s, and I know she can read the message I’m sending her.

  You don’t have to be so tough on her.

  Harper shrugs and continues slathering cream on my shoulder. She takes a roll of gauze in her hands and wraps it around my shoulder, secures it with a metal fastener. “You’ll need to change this out often, but the salt water will help it heal.” She tosses the blanket she had around her own shoulders earlier toward me. I use it to cover up and thank her for the help. “My mom is a nurse. Not that it helped matters.”

  With her daughter, that’s what she means. I wait a beat and then say, “You should go easy on Cotton. He’s experienced loss, too.” She shakes her head like I’m ridiculous. I consider telling her about Cotton’s sister so that the two may find common ground in each other, but I decide it’s not my story to tell.

  “Your device okay?” I ask.

  She pats her pocket twice in response. Right here.

  I clear my throat. “It’s my fault you went overboard, Harper. Guy told me to get everyone below deck, but I thought it’d be better if we worked together to get the boat’s sails down quickly. I should have listened to him. You could have died out there.”