by C.L. Bevill
Chapter 17
Kara Has a Say…
Of course I chickened out. I fled to the cabin like a little weenie. The firefly pixies split up between flying to greet Zach and trailing after me in a confused glow. Sure the little girls could tell something was up, but they weren’t much on advice for the lovelorn, or in my case, the totally, paranoidally, confused lovelorn.
And the next few days were really out of the ordinary. (That was a touch of sarcasm.) Day-to-day life included doing chores. There was a chart posted on the outdoor billboard that used to hold announcements for campers. People were supposed to switch on a daily basis so no one got to do anything good or bad for too long. Good was guard duty for some. Bad was digging new latrines and covering old ones. For me, it wasn’t so bad because Sinclair had made a list of the chores I could do and those that I couldn’t do. Digging latrines was not on my approved list, but I did get to chop a lot of vegetables and collect eggs from the chickens in the coop Gibby had had built. Furthermore, the doctor wasn’t crazy about the stick fighting classes.
So joy of joys, after chores I got to sit and watch Tomas teaching some of the others about stick fighting. Tomas wasn’t going to let me participate until Sinclair had given me the okay. When I tried to walk the Bluff Trail by myself, I was held back by Ethan, who appeared in front of me as if he had come out of the mist.
“I’m just trying to get back into ‘normal’ shape,” I explained plaintively. With my fingers, I made the quotation marks around the word “normal.”
Ethan just stared down at me. With his heavy beard and massive shape, he reminded me of a very large bear. He made the smaller Calida look like an imp when they were next to each other. When they thought no one was looking, they were very demonstrative. He liked to hold hands, which went to show that he was more bark than bite, and one of his hands was about the size of both of Calida’s combined. “You know the rules, Sophie,” he said finally. “No one goes into the forest by themselves.”
“Fine,” I responded fitfully. “You go with me.”
He smiled smugly. “Can’t. Busy with the triumvirate. But don’t let that give you an idea to go sneak off by yourself.”
Did you ever want to throw your arms over your chest and march away with your chin in the air like a four-year-old child? I did right at that moment. “It’s just the Bluff Trail, for heaven’s sake,” I cajoled. “Nothing there! I need to get some of my strength back. Someone’s going to kick sand in my face soon!”
“Rick and Kala saw a bear yesterday,” Ethan informed me with excruciating politeness, ignoring or not understanding my jab at humor. I could tell what he really wanted to do was to yell at me. I don’t think he thought much of me.
“A bear?” I repeated doubtfully. Ethan reminded me of bears and wham, there was one. “California has bears?”
“Black bears,” he replied. “They’re not usually concerned with humans, and they don’t normally attack unless provoked or cornered. But see here, the bears have lost some of their food sources. A lot of park bears lived on human refuse. And guess what? No more tourists! Bears are searching wider for food sources. You’re about the same size as a deer, and bear’s really like their meat fresh. So be careful.”
Ethan wandered off in the direction of the buildings the group used as offices and meeting areas. I called after him, “Are they sure it was a bear?”
“Well, it wasn’t a unicorn,” Ethan called back laughingly.
That showed what he knew. “It might have been, you know!” I yelled at his back. He didn’t look back, but his shoulders twitched.
“I’ll walk up with you,” said another voice and my spine went straight.
I had been making a habit of avoiding Zach, and I had been so successful that it was a shock to have him standing right behind me. I looked longingly at the sign for the Bluff Trail and then said reluctantly, “I’m sure you have other things to do.”
Zach made a noise. I wasn’t sure what the noise was, but then I wasn’t sure of a lot of things. It could have been irritation. It could have been annoyance. It could have been gas. Really, I didn’t know. (It wasn’t gas. That was a bad joke.)
“You’re avoiding me,” he said.
Duh. “It’s the appropriate reaction when you made it perfectly clear how angry you are with me,” I said, not looking at him. “Really, really angry,” I added for explanation’s sake.
The noise came again. It wasn’t gas. (Two jokes. I was becoming a comedian.) “I’m beginning to appreciate that you might have had a very good reason for doing what you did, Sophie,” he said carefully.
Oooh! Diplomatic.
I turned and looked at him. He was still about six feet tall. His shoulders were handsomely broad. His hair was still that wonderful chestnut brown that gleamed in the September light. And his eyes were still that same color of chocolate brown. He wore a sunshine yellow t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans that showed off the remainder of his enviable form. All in all, his features were still patently faultless. The cherry on top was that he didn’t seem angry with me at that moment. Instead, he was looking at me oddly, an expression that made me think he was very pleased to see me alone for a moment. It was enough to give a girl a case of the vapors. And what do you know, my heart went pitter-pitter-patter in my chest, and my breathing lurched. Then I made a really weird noise that sounded like half a hiccough and half a gasp.
The hitch of my breath gave Zach a little case of what-now? and he stepped closer to me with an alarmed, “You okay?”
I took a deep breath, let it out, and then took another one. As I tried to compose myself, I thought, Boy am I acting like a scared little teenager or what? Wait a minute, I was a scared little teenager. Silly me. “I’m okay,” I said after a minute of trying to regulate my breathing. Then as his expression relaxed, I thought that I might as well get it over with. “Okay, let’s go.”
Zach pointed. “Up the trail?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Have you seen the Big Mamas?”
He laughed. “Closer than you have, I imagine. You wouldn’t believe how big they are.”
“Maybe you can help me put it in my notebook,” I said before I realized what I was saying. Perhaps if I tried hard enough I could get both feet in my mouth. After all, I didn’t want him to get closer to me, I wanted him further away. (Didn’t I?) Quickly, I added, “What else have you seen?”
Zach gazed at me attentively. “There was a group of these little things that crossed the road en masse around Eureka. They looked like a cross between spiders and turtles. They had eight legs. There was an entire area that was covered with cobwebs, and we avoided it because there were a few oversized cobweb-covered lumps that were animals they had snared. Some were as big as rabbits.”
I led the way while Zach told me about the little creatures. On that particular trip I had to rest three-quarters of the way up and Zach was looking at me with no little amount of alarm. I didn’t need to be a psychic to know he was wondering if I had bitten off a little too much to chew.
“The doctor,” I panted, “says I have,” big pause for breath, “to keep using my lungs,” I finished in one quick breath. “No babying,” pant, “them.”
“And the stick fighting?” Zach asked, obviously engrossed with the way I was breathing. “Is that a prelude for sword fighting?”
“I don’t,” I panted, “have the shoulder strength,” panted again, “for the crossbow.”
Zach thought about it for a minute. “It’s not a bad idea.” Then of course he had to add, “As long as you don’t cut your leg off.”
After a while I was able to breathe normally, and we continued up the trail. We passed two people coming back down who stopped to talk to Zach animatedly. They smiled at me, and I smiled at them, but they weren’t really interested in me. Zach had been outside the camp lately, and that was very fascinating. Who knew what he had seen?
“A jetliner over by Arcata,” Zach was saying, “crashed into the side of a hill. I think it’s a 747, but it
’s hard to tell. The jet fuel caused a fire that burned what was left of it and about a mile all the way around. Several houses, too. I never thought about all the planes that must have been up at the moment that everything changed. I hope no one survived the change on board a plane, only to crash a few minutes later.”
“A jet,” the woman repeated, amazement in her tone. “It was probably empty, but if it wasn’t, at least it was quick.”
The man said, “There’s got to be hundreds of plane crashes then. If not thousands. How many planes had to be in the air at that moment?”
Zach shrugged, and the pair continued down the trail with a friendly nod.
I was grateful that I had had another moment of rest before the steepest part of the trail. Zach took my elbow although I made a little movement of protest. After his fingers connected with my flesh, I really wanted to pull away. There was that same electricity that flowed between the two of us. It arced and sizzled. When I glanced down at my limb, I expected to see a scorch mark.
When we reached the top I was sincerely appreciative that I could rest on the log bench. I nearly threw myself on it. Zach stood awkwardly for a moment and then sat next to me. Not too close, of course.
All these darned feelings were making me irritable. Nana had a saying for that, too. She was pithy, if not explicit: Pee or get off the potty, girl. I didn’t want to get close to Zach. Something was going to happen to him if I did, and I didn’t want that. But when I caught a hint of his masculine scent or felt the touch of his fingers on my skin, I wanted something else. I wasn’t stupid, but I’d had zero boyfriends. Nate, my two whole dates, had been my first real boyfriend-in-training. My parents had been of the no-boyfriends-until-you’re-thirty-five affiliation. There had been awareness in high school, but boys always seemed engrossed in my friends, the twins, or in being my friend. On the whole, it hadn’t bothered me until now.
Now it seemed like there was a more important agenda. Life was happening, and I couldn’t afford to be a gawky little teenager anymore. I didn’t know whether I should push or pull Zach. I felt like a critter out of Doctor Doolittle.
“Gideon said I should speak to you,” Zach said softly.
Wondering if I could fake passing out, I bit back a groan. Every single person in the camp was a darned nosy, stick-their-heads-where-they-don’t-belong snoopalophagus. Butting-in was becoming the latest national pastime. Deciding against the fake passing-out ploy, I tried for innocent instead. “Why’s that?”
“I was angry with you,” Zach admitted calmly. “Very angry. But Gideon said you had a good reason, one that might not be easy for me to understand or even to listen to.”
I looked out over the redwood forest. The Big Mamas’ trail was empty. It was a little early for the mammoth beasts to be headed back out to sea. But I wished they would show up so I could change the subject. Now, please, now.
“And you still want me to tell you,” I stated plainly.
“Yeah,” he divulged. “I want to know. But I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me.”
I looked at him in surprise.
A wry expression altered his perfect features. “Shocked?” he asked. “Me, too. I’m not usually so accommodating.” He laughed, and it was clear it was at himself. “Not that I’m giving you an excuse to start any more crap.” He shook his index finger at me. “People have been talking about your burn-down-the-signs rampage.”
I wanted to shut down then. I had been vocal about the blasted signs, and I hadn’t limited my outrage to Gideon. However, I didn’t want to talk about him - the Burned Man. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” I said, gritting my teeth. Never mind that it was probably already too late. After all, it was about three weeks since I had been injured by the man. Who knew what he was up to?
“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But I don’t want to let one lone psycho scare me into living my life differently than I would have.”
Brave words. And it was a little too late for the sentiment because we had let the psycho run us down the coast. Had he forgotten that?
Zach grimaced as if he had read my mind. “I know. I already let him impact us. But we don’t have to do that now. We’ve got numbers.”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to be the one who put a damper on the whole thing. The Burned Man could do anything he wanted, and I wouldn’t be able to say “boo” until after it was all said and done.
I heard a distant crunch and saw that the Big Mamas were making their trek back to the sea. A zoologist would be drooling on himself right now because of all the new creatures that were roaming the world. Too bad the group didn’t include one of those.
Zach looked out at the animals. “They have babies already,” he said. “I guess they brought them with them from wherever they came from.”
“So did Fernie,” I said. “So did the unicorns. Who knows why?”
“Calida is pregnant,” he added.
No secrets in the big camp, fellas. I sure hoped that Calida didn’t want to keep it secret. I didn’t know what else to say. “Good for them,” I said instead. I hoped it was good. Everything seemed so contrary, but having a child had to be a good thing, a celebration of life. It was disheartening to admit that not everyone might see it the same as I did.
“You sound like you mean it,” Zach commented.
“Of course I mean it,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Some people aren’t happy,” he said. “Some people say they should have waited.”
“Some people should mind their own business. It’s up to Ethan and Calida,” I defended them.
Zach glanced at me, and a little half-smile crossed his lips. “I forget how young you are sometimes.”
“Not that much younger than you are,” I said irritably.
“And how old is that exactly?”
“I’m seventeen,” I said before I could clamp my lips shut. I remembered the half-heard conversation between Kara and Zach while I was so dreadfully exhausted after being so ill. “And you’re twenty-one.”
“Ah, you were awake,” he said understandingly.
“Half-awake,” I responded pertly. “And what difference does it make now?”
Zach made a mournful expression. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
Well, I wasn’t going to open my mouth bigger and ask for an explanation of what he meant by that.
“And when is your birthday, by the way,” he said ingenuously.
“What does it matter?” I asked. “I think everyone’s forgotten the date.”
“It’s Thursday, October 16th,” he said positively.
I shook my head. “Gideon?”
“Ethan. Knows the date of everything. Not sure how that’s going to come in handy.”
“My birthday is in January,” I told him. It wasn’t going to matter much. I wasn’t even sure if I would still be in the camp then. But Zach nodded as if I had given him an ounce of gold. I couldn’t figure him out.
We didn’t say anything as we descended the trail to the thumping music of the slow-moving Big Mamas’ tromping feet. Zach let me go as we came into the camp, and he went off to do whatever it was that he did.
When I entered my cabin, Kara was waiting for me. She was sitting on my bunk reading a book. I blinked and saw that it was a history of swords and sword fighting. It wasn’t my book. “Thanks,” I said appreciatively, thinking she’d brought me a gift because of my recent pursuit. The Japanese broadsword hung on the wall behind my bunk.
Kara looked up at me. “Not me. It was on your bunk when I came in. Hope you don’t mind, but digging latrines is hard work. I had to sit down.”
I shrugged. “As long as you took a shower first.”
“Hot bath. Some of the springs are heated by something below us. Some of the hot springs are hot enough to boil eggs in.” Kara brightened. “I wonder if we can rig something based on the hot water.”
I sat next to her and sighed. “You let me know.”
Kara produced something from behind her b
ack. “And also with the book, this.” She handed me a candy bar. Guess what kind? My favorite, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. My mouth watered. Gibby was a great cook, but there was nothing like a real candy bar.
Kara said, “Someone likes you.” The way she said it made it sound like she was my sixth-grade buddy.
I blushed profusely. The book and candy could only be from one person, and I didn’t want to play the mental games on figuring out why he was doing it. Since I had just finished talking with him, I felt like an idiot who didn’t have a clue what was going on.
Then the twenty-five-year-old woman who lived in my cabin came bouncing in and smiled brightly at us. “Great,” she pronounced fluidly. Her name was Lulu, and she looked like a Lulu should look. She had short wavy blonde hair, big blue eyes and a wonderfully curved figure that everyone envied. She also had a giving, bubbly personality that tended to grate on me. Perky. That was Lulu. Very, very, very perky.
“I have so wanted to talk to you, Sophie,” she went on, blissfully unaware of my silent glower.
Kara sat up a little and rested her chin on her hands while her elbows were propped on her knees. She was waiting for the show.
“Okay,” I said doubtfully.
“Well, I’m just going to be blunt,” Lulu said.
“I like blunt,” Kara commented. “Don’t you, Sophie?”
“Sure, I’m all about blunt,” I said. Oh, would you listen to that sarcasm? But it went sailing over Lulu’s head.
“Fantabulous,” Lulu commented gleefully. Great word usage. That was going in the notebook for future reference.
I waited expectantly while Lulu collected herself. She squared her shoulders and looked directly into my eyes.
Then she said, “Are you, like, interested in Zach?”
Kara smiled to herself and looked fascinatedly at the cabin floor. I’m certain the floor boards were absolutely scintillating. The dust bunnies were, like, totally tubular. I took a second to pointedly notice that she wasn’t leaving the area for my continued privacy.
“I – uh,” I said. A positive mastermind at the art of banter I was. “Well, I – uh,” I affixed nonsensically.
“Because he’s, like, very remarkable,” Lulu went on, unabashed at my response.
“Remarkable,” I repeated. “Yes, he’s that, all right.”
“Studalicious,” Lulu commented.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that, too,” Kara felt compelled to add.
“Oh,” Lulu glanced at Kara. “You’re not interested in Zach, are you?” Her young eyes gauged Kara up and down with avid curiosity.
“Oh no,” Kara said promptly. “Not my type. Not at all. He’s more like a son to me.”
Whoops. Lulu frowned. I could see the thought that occurred in her head. Was a potential girl pal supposed to use the word studalicious in front of a pseudo-maternal unit? That was a big NO because of ethical and parental mores. Yikes. Better fix that fast. “He really knows about stuff,” Lulu ad-libbed. I gathered that meant that she thought he was intelligent.
“Sure does,” Kara agreed genially. “Smart kid.”
Lulu looked at me. I don’t think it occurred to her that I hadn’t really answered her question. She smiled brightly, showing orthodontically correct, and snow white teeth in her Californian-tanned face. “Well, peachatrific. I’m so glad we got this aired out.” She looked from me to Kara and then back again. “I’m going to the bonfire. Gibby’s doing s’mores. Coming?”
“Maybe later,” Kara said kindly.
Then Lulu bounced out of the cabin. The girl had energy.
“You know what kind of car she had before the change?” Kara said chirpily.
I looked sideways at Kara.
“A red one,” Kara said as she tilted her head and did a little hair flip even though her hair wasn’t that long.
“You’re bad,” I pronounced. I produced the candy bar and offered her one cup. Kara took it and bit into it with barely restrained hunger. I ate the other one, savoring each bite.
Kara examined the floor again and then finally said, “He might not wait for you, you know.”
I was going to pretend I didn’t know what she was talking about. But it wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I also didn’t want to explain the wretched lurch in my heart at the thought of Zach not “waiting” for me. “What do you want me to say, Kara?”
“Explain why you drugged us,” she said firmly.
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “I thought it was— ”
“Not to me,” she interrupted. “I know exactly why you did it. He wouldn’t have let you go, if you hadn’t. I dreamed about it a dozen times after the fact. You have to explain to him, to Zach.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t know if I can—” I started to say, but it trailed off uncertainly. Kara put her arm around my shoulder and said, “I know, hon. Ain’t love a bitch?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I really, really don’t know.”
Kara started to say something else, but a thought bit into my head like an arrow had suddenly pierced my brain. I surged to my feet while she said, “My God, Sophie, what’s wrong? You’re as white as a sheet.”
“It’s the two people that Gideon sent,” I said faintly. Kara looked at me in alarm. “The ones that were supposed to replace the sign. Didn’t you know?”
Kara shook her head as I ran to find Gideon, but I already knew it was too late.
