by Sarah Jaune
What he saw left him breathless. Green.
Panic flooded Eli as he remembered a green sky, from when he’d been small. His nanny had come for him and his sisters, dragging them down to a storm shelter in their basement along with the rest of the staff in the house. Thankfully, his father hadn’t been home, or they’d have been forced out of the storm shelter.
Campbell Hunt wouldn’t deign to share his storm shelter with a mere servant.
“Tornado,” Nanny Florence had explained to Eli. “The green sky is a warning, children. We will wait down here for the storm to pass, just in case.”
Eli’s mind snapped back to the present as he floored the jeep, pushing them faster. They either needed to outrun the storm, or find shelter.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked sleepily as she rubbed at her eyes.
He swore silently and wished she’d stayed asleep. “Storm.”
Ivy squeaked and practically scaled her seat, as though the storm was burning at her feet. Eli had seen her do this, once before. They didn’t get many thunderstorms in the Portland Zone, but the one they had had around Ivy’s birthday had been enough to reduce her to a quivering puddle. It had been as shocking as anything Eli had ever seen.
Ivy was so solid, steady, and unshakeable most of the time that he’d never imagined he’d see her quaking in fear.
“I have it,” Eli assured her soothingly. Now was definitely the time for him to stay in control. “I’m going to take care of us, okay? Close your eyes.”
He didn’t really need to tell her that, though. She’d already buried her head in her knees, which were drawn up to her chest. Her hands were clamped over her ears.
She didn’t cry. Ivy never cried, but he could see her shaking as the first crack of thunder rumbled over the car, rocking the speeding jeep with its intensity.
Eli focused on the road, unsure if they’d be able to outrun it, even with as fast as he was going. As soon as the rain hit, he’d have to slow down.
Then salvation presented itself in the form of a farmhouse. It appeared, at first, to be too run down to shelter them, but as Eli slowed to check it out, he grinned in relief as he saw the exterior doors that meant safety.
It was a tornado shelter. Eli skidded to a stop right outside the door, grabbed the backpack, and hopped out of the jeep.
Ivy didn’t even move when he tugged her door open. He put his arms out to carry her, but she swatted him away with a small moan of fear.
It was just as bad as her reaction to the last storm. Changing his mind, Eli sprinted over to the two heavy, wooden doors that hadn’t been painted in at least a decade. He tested them and found that they opened with a little coaxing. He left them open as a gust of wind bashed into him. Eli raced back for the jeep, removed Ivy, who fought him in her terror, but he didn’t let her win. He kicked the jeep’s door shut and hauled Ivy over to the storm shelter, jogging down the rickety wooden steps, and setting Ivy off in the back, dark corner, before going back to secure the doors.
Thankfully, they had a deadbolt on the inside. Eli turned to survey the room, and found that it was mostly stone and dirt. It was damp, but not unpleasantly musty for a room that must have been shut up for a while. There was no furniture, no lights, and nothing to indicate anyone had ever lived there. They were, for all intents and purposes, in a manmade cave. Eli dropped the backpack onto the ground and shivered in the cool air. He hadn’t thought to grab a blanket from the jeep, but he wasn’t going back out again.
Ivy’s pitiful peep drew his attention back to her. She was curled in a ball on the floor, whimpering and shaking. Eli crossed to sit next to her, putting his arms around her. If she noticed, she didn’t show it. Nothing was going to get through until the storm had passed.
He didn’t blame her for her fear. Hers, at least, made sense. Eli was afraid of snakes, which was stupid because he’d never been bitten by one. They simply creeped him out.
Ivy had been forced to stand in thunderstorms when she was tiny. Her mom, in her insanity, had thought that Ivy might be able to control the storm. He’d only figured that out from a fragment of a sentence that Ivy had managed after the last storm.
Eli was still pissed about that. He couldn’t believe Ivy’s mom would make her three-year-old stand out in a thunderstorm, even when she was screaming and crying.
But, then again, he could believe it. Eli’s birth parents were also crazy.
“Shh,” Eli said to Ivy as another peal of thunder cracked overhead and Ivy jumped. “We’re safe.”
They were for now. Eli had no idea if the jeep would be, though.
CHAPTER 6
TWISTERS
“Did I ever tell you about the day my sisters and I were rescued from my parents’ house?” Eli asked Ivy, who probably couldn’t hear him anyway. He gingerly touched her blonde head, trying to sooth her. It felt a little awkward, but he had to try, and he’d found that just being near Ivy was often enough to help calm him down. He hoped he could do the same for her. During the last storm, Maia had stepped in to keep Ivy calm. “Uh…” he cleared his throat. “So, the day that Cole got us out, Beth and I sat in the back of the truck and she fell asleep on me. My arm went numb. She was always doing things like that.”
His heart hurt so badly to think about his twin sister and all the things he’d missed out on by her absence. Beth and Ivy both had blonde hair, but apart from that, they couldn’t have been more different. If Ivy weren’t scared out of her mind, she’d have been horrified by how she was reacting. It had taken her a week to meet Eli’s gaze after the last panic attack.
Ivy was so tough, so determined. Beth was… if he had to label it, Eli would have said that his twin was vulnerable. Beth wouldn’t have been embarrassed by being scared or seeking comfort. Not, Eli knew, that there was anything wrong with being scared, but that wasn’t how Ivy saw it.
Maybe Beth had changed, though. Maybe she’d learned to stand on her own two feet. She used to lean on Eli all the time, but he hadn’t been there for her in many years. Maybe she’d been forced to change, whether she wanted to or not. Eli knew he wasn’t the same kid he’d been when he’d left his father’s house the first time.
Another flash, bright enough to light the cracks in the wooden double door, then an immediate boom shook the foundations of the house as the wind picked up threefold, shattering Eli’s ear drums. He pulled Ivy more securely into his arms, and she grabbed hold of him so tightly that he knew he was going to have bruises from where her hands gripped him. He held on and watched as the door began to shake.
It finally sank in that they were really in a tornado, and it wasn’t very far away. If they took a direct hit, Eli was sure the house would crumble and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Fear crowded in, buzzing in his ears like a swarm of overwhelming bees. Eli held tighter to Ivy, saying… something. He didn’t know what he was saying to comfort her. He didn’t even know if his voice was working any longer. Pressure began to build in his ears as the roaring intensified again, ramping up until Eli was sure that a train was passing straight overhead.
The noise, the chaos and shaking, lasted for another minute before fading softly to nothingness.
Nothing made a sound now, nothing except the ominous creaking of the old house above them. There were no bees, no birds, and only the faint thrum of thunder and wind in the distance, and Ivy’s labored breath against his chest. She had her face pressed against him, and she seemed unable to let go.
He didn’t push her to move. They sat, and Eli waited for the pounding of his racing heart to move back into its normal rhythm.
Finally, she pulled in a shuddering gulp of air. “I feel sick,” she told him, barely above a whisper.
“We’ll just wait, then,” Eli said, since he wasn’t exactly steady, either. He felt a little guilty making her feel like she was the reason they were still sitting together, huddled on the floor of the storm cellar. He ran his fingers through her long, soft hair, snagging a little on a curl, and final
ly felt like the vice around his chest had loosened. “That was… scary.”
She laughed nervously. “It wasn’t just me?”
“That was a tornado,” Eli informed her carefully, unsure if she’d realized it before.
“Oh crap,” Ivy moaned, sinking further into him.
It was ten more minutes before she had the strength to move, and her hands were shaking badly as they finally climbed up. Ivy clutched at his hand as they made their way to the door.
“I’ll go first,” Eli said as he unbolted the door with his one free hand and pushed it open. She didn’t let go of his hand. It was as though he was a lifeline. A fine mist of rain sprinkled in as a rainbow glittered in the mangled field across from the house. Eli could smell the sharp, unmistakable odor of wet grass. Across the field, two hundred yards away, was a swath of flattened corn, grass, and debris.
Ivy’s fingers, which were freezing cold, tightened around his. “My fear is completely rational.”
“I can’t argue,” he said as he stepped out and helped her up. He turned to see that the house was fine, and much to his relief, the jeep was still sitting where he’d parked it. It was covered in mud, but appeared otherwise unharmed. They moved together towards it. He glanced at Ivy and saw just how pale she was, so he pulled open the door, let her in, and moved around to the driver’s side.
“The backpack,” Ivy reminded him through chattering teeth.
Eli swore under his breath, annoyed with himself for nearly forgetting, and sprinted back towards the storm shelter. He hopped down, grabbed the pack, and closed the door behind him as he left.
“Let’s hope nothing else happens,” he commented as he threw the bag in the back seat and stuck the key in the ignition.
The path of the tornado was extremely obvious. Ivy was silent as they drove on, continuing north up into the Wichita Zone until the sun began to dip.
“Thank you,” Ivy said after several hours of silence.
Eli flicked his gaze to her, then back to the road. “For what?”
“For…” her voice faltered. “The house, you know. I would have been even worse if you hadn’t been there. You always help me stay calm.”
A spark went up Eli’s spine. It was so close to the same thought that he had. “Yeah,” was all he managed to say because his throat felt like it was being squeezed shut.
Ivy shifted in her seat. “Sorry.” She sounded so small, so defeated.
“What for?” he blurted out incredulously.
She turned away in her seat, pulling her legs up under her and pressing her face against the window.
Eli stared helplessly out the window, and wished he knew what to say. It was so frustrating, wanting to not say the wrong thing and having no idea what he should say. “Listen, you can’t help your fear of storms.” He stole another glance, and what he could see of her cheek was bright red. “I don’t…” he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t think you’re, uh… weak or anything because of this.” He had never, ever, felt so awkward with Ivy before.
“It wasn’t that,” she sighed in irritation as she banged her fist against the car door. “I just sound stupid.”
Eli stared at the road, watching the lines fly by under the car. They were almost to the Lincoln Zone where they’d start to head west. He had no idea what she was talking about. What had sounded stupid? “I don’t…” he began, but he shut his mouth tight, feeling his own cheeks burn.
This wasn’t something he’d ever experienced with Ivy. They’d been good friends, pretty much straight from the beginning, but now it felt uncomfortable and strained between them. He’d always just said what he wanted to say to her, never mind what she might do. He’d never worried that she’d be upset, because she seemed to get him, but she’d also never been this upset except the one time. “I don’t know what you mean,” Eli finally told her.
It was a full minute of silence before she finally said, “The always calming me down thing.”
It took his brain a moment to process that, but the moment it registered, he was so relieved that he laughed. Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to do. He stopped when he caught her movement out of the corner of his eye. She curled in further towards the door. Away from him.
Daggers. He’d turned this into something it wasn’t.
Eli quickly pulled off to the side of the road and put the jeep in park. He turned in his seat and only saw the back of her head. “You calm me down, too. I wasn’t laughing at you. I’d had the exact same thought, so it was funny that you were thinking the same thing I was.”
Slowly, she turned, and Eli was relieved to see she wasn’t crying; not that he’d expected her to be crying. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he grinned easily. “I don’t lose my temper around you like I do in other situations.” He waited while her face drained of the scarlet hue. “We good?”
She nodded and her eyes didn’t look quite as haunted. “Do you want me to drive?”
“After we stop to eat dinner,” Eli said as he put the car in gear and took off again.
They drove all day and most of that night until they camped somewhere near the Cheyenne Zone. Ivy, who had been driving, pulled off into a stand of trees, they both reclined their seats, and slept until the sun was well above the horizon.
Eli took the first driving shift the next morning while Ivy rummaged through the backpack. “What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m just bored.”
“There’s a book in there that Coral’s mom gave me,” Eli said, as he suddenly remembered the tome.
Ivy dug into the bottom and pulled it out. “An Accounting of Magic by Madelyn Cotton,” she read off the title. “Sounds… dull.”
“It could be fascinating,” Eli replied even though it didn’t sound like it at all. History was not his favorite subject. It was typically only taught for a short time in school. The history of their land wasn’t something that most people dwelled on. Although… “Does that name sound familiar?”
“I don’t think so,” Ivy murmured as she opened the cover and began to read. It lasted for five minutes before she closed it. “I can’t. It’s making my head hurt. I still don’t feel right from all that magic with the river.”
Eli could understand that.
They drove until they didn’t want to drive anymore, then kept going by playing a game about all the kids in their school, trying to remember all of their names.
“Do you want to go home?” Eli asked as they pulled into Redmond Township around one o’clock in the morning.
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’ll crash on your couch. That way we won’t wake up my foster sisters.”
The moment they pulled into the driveway of Eli’s house, the light went on in Pablo and Maia’s bedroom. Pablo greeted them at the door with a hug, then ushered them both off to bed.
Eli’s sore, travel-weary body fell into his bed while Graham snored softly in the other bed across the room.
It was a real pillow, with a real mattress, and it felt amazing. He closed his eyes as his muscles twitched in fatigue and let the world slip away.
The next morning involved Graham hitting him on the head with a pillow and telling him they had to get to school.
“Not going,” Eli groaned as he rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep.
That was when Graham sent in the big guns.
Two-year-old Alexi was dropped, unceremoniously, on his chest. “Oof!” Eli squinted to see her dark brown hair sticking up in wild tuffs as she stared down at him with her big, baby-blue eyes.
She scrunched up her little nose and poked his cheek with an unpleasantly sticky finger. “Hungry!” was Alexi immediate demand.
“Go tell Mom,” Eli groaned as he tried to pull the covers over his head.
Alexi scrambled off him, and for a moment, Eli thought he’d come away the winner, but no such luck. Not even thirty seconds later, Alexi chucked a wooden block at his head. “
Play!” she demanded, trying to pull him from bed by his shirtsleeve.
“Lex,” Eli groaned while trying to ignore her. “Go play with mom! I’m tired.”
He hadn’t meant to sound like a bear, but what he heard next told him that was exactly what the toddler heard.
Sniff, sniff, wail.
Eli’s eyes flew open to see big, fat tears sliding down her chubby cheeks. He bit back the swear word that came to mind and forced himself to sit up so he could pick her up.
Maia came through the door, a look of concern on her face. “What’s up?”
