Sky Jumpers Series, Book 1

by Peggy Eddleman

  “My dog!” Holden said. “He’s gone, too!”

  The four of us left the line and searched for Brenna. The crowds were so thick, I couldn’t see her at all. Aaren and I ran to the solar ovens, to the inventions tables, then to the obelisk. Nothing. We were about to leave to search by the horses when Aaren froze. “The river!”

  We rushed all the way to the bank, hoping to see the kids she’d begged to play with, but the bank was empty. Aaren ran left, toward the mill, but something about the path to my right made me take that direction. I didn’t think she’d go past the clump of trees at the edge of the river since it was a natural boundary, but I went past them anyway, calling her name every step of the way. A few hundred feet down the path, I finally saw her, walking toward me with Holden’s puppy in her arms. Two men I’d never seen before walked close behind her.

  “Hope!” Brenna called as she walked to me. Seeing her by the men sent a chill up my spine, but she had a smile on her face, so I guessed everything was okay.

  “Your friend got a little lost,” the taller man said.

  It was a strange thing for him to say, since Brenna knew all of White Rock and he obviously didn’t know his way around at all. There wasn’t any part of the Harvest Festival near the lake, but that was the direction they’d come from.

  I grabbed Brenna’s hand. “Are you lost?” I asked the man.

  He smiled, and his voice came out smooth and confident. “Not at all. We were just admiring your beautiful valley.”

  The leathery look of his skin made it hard to guess if he was thirty or fifty. His sun-bleached light brown hair was wavy on top and brushed away from his forehead. The most noticeable thing about him, though, was a scar that ran from his right temple down to his jaw. Both men were thin and muscled, their clothes well worn but clean. The second man was shorter and had darker hair and skin. He smiled, too. I was positive I hadn’t seen either of them when we greeted the people from Browning at the tunnel yesterday.

  “Where are you from?” I asked.

  The taller man gestured over the river. “A little town called Bergen, about eighty miles south of here.” He paused for a moment while I stared at him, then he added, “The name’s Mickelson. We came to talk with your city about possible trade.”

  I’d heard about Bergen. Sometimes a group left White Rock to trade with another town, or to search for things left behind from before the bombs. They always stayed in Bergen when they traveled in that direction. And sometimes people from Bergen stopped in White Rock to bring news or to offer trades.

  “Looks like we came at just the right time, too,” the man said. “This is quite the celebration.” He walked past me around the clump of trees and looked toward the festivities. “And it looks like you’re about to miss out on some kind of performance.” Both men walked toward the crowd.

  “The Showdown,” Brenna said. “We have to see it!”

  We rounded the trees as Aaren ran toward us.

  “Brenna! You were supposed to stay by me!”

  Brenna glanced at the dog in her arms. “But the puppy ran away. Those men helped me catch her.”

  Aaren scooped up the puppy in one arm and held Brenna’s hand with the other. I looked to the crowd that had gathered around the performance platform, and Aaren followed my gaze. “We’ll watch the Showdown. Just don’t let go of my hand.”

  The Showdown was a Harvest Festival tradition. The Sixteens & Seventeens always did a difficult dance that got better every year. The teachers usually did a funny skit that made everyone laugh. Then the winning performance was chosen by the crowd.

  We found Carina and Holden and gave Holden his puppy back before we all joined the rest of the audience at the performance platform. Just like the Twister line, though, we got there too late. The whole town had already found a place to watch. We walked around the circle, but the backs of all the adults who stood blocked our view.

  If we were higher, we could see. The mill was only a dozen feet away from the edge of the crowd, and it had a section of flat roof with angled sides leading to it. “See those crates?” I asked the others. “If we pushed them a bit, we could use them as stairs to climb on that roof to watch.”

  Carina and Holden ran straight for them. Aaren paused a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t want Brenna up there. You go. We’ll stay down here.”

  Brenna huffed. “But I wanna go with Hope!”

  “We’ll find a good spot.” Aaren led her through the crowd, and they wiggled their way in. I ran to the crates and climbed up just behind Carina and Holden. The angled part of the roof was barely over a foot wide, and my right shoulder and hip rubbed against the building wall as I crawled, so it took a little balance. I moved carefully past a sharp metal piece of the roof that stuck up, and before I even got to the flat part, I could see the performance platform. This was a great spot.

  It wasn’t long before Ellie and Paige joined us. Nate climbed the other side of the roof and sat down next to Holden. A minute later, Brock climbed up, looking like he was carrying a million worries.

  Nate slapped him on the back. “Congrats on winning the Inventions Contest!”

  Brock smiled bigger than I’d seen him smile in a long time. “I won?”

  “Yes!” I said. “Where were you?”

  The smile left his face for a moment. “Busy.” He looked toward the platform. “These are great seats!”

  I glanced at the seven of us sitting on the roof and chuckled. Maybe my dad was right—people followed me more than I realized. Or at least they did when it meant great seats for the Showdown.

  The kids in Sixteens & Seventeens did flips off each other’s shoulders, spun on the platform, and leapt over one another, all while two of them stomped rhythmically on the floor of the platform.

  I watched in a trance until I heard Aaren’s worried shout from below: “Brenna!”

  My eyes found Aaren. He was turning around, searching for Brenna as he worked his way through the crowd. I searched, too. I figured I’d find her first, since I had the better vantage point, but I couldn’t see her at all.

  I heard a scraping sound to my left, and I knew even before I saw Aaren look up in alarm that Brenna was climbing onto the roof. Aaren ran to the crates as I climbed over Ellie and Paige to get to Brenna. The roof was too narrow, and she wasn’t good at balancing. I panicked when I saw her. She wasn’t even crawling—she was trying to walk up the incline. I reached the angled part of the roof just as Aaren got both knees up onto it, Brenna teetering between us.

  Then she lost her balance. She swung her arms around in circles, trying to stay upright, but she couldn’t. I reached to grab her as Aaren stumbled forward. I somehow managed to catch one of her arms and hold her steady. I let out a huge breath of relief.

  Then I looked behind Brenna.

  Aaren’s foot slipped as he lurched for Brenna. He fell to the roof on his stomach and tumbled off the edge. I heard the tear of fabric as he fell, and I knew he’d been cut from the piece of metal roofing that stuck up.

  “Aaren!” I screamed as I looked over the edge.

  For a moment, I couldn’t move. It felt like a hand reached inside my chest and squeezed the life out of my heart. Aaren had landed on his back, crushing a wooden crate, his shirt covered in blood.

  I shouted for help as I lowered Brenna to a crate, then I jumped off the roof and knelt by Aaren. His face was white and scrunched up in pain.

  “Please be okay, Aaren.” I held his hand and hovered my other hand over the cut that went all the way across his stomach. I didn’t know if I should press on it with my hand, or if that would make it worse. “Please, Aaren. Please be okay.”

  A crowd instantly gathered around us. Dr. Grenwood pushed her way through it.

  “Ellie,” Dr. Grenwood said. “Grab my medical bag. It’s by the ovens. Brock, get some tablecloths.” She nodded in the direction of two boys from Sixteens & Seventeens. “I need my stretcher from my office. Take two horses and ride down. Fast! Ca
ss Williams!” she called loudly. When Cass slid into the front of the crowd, Dr. Grenwood said, “Get a wagon ready.” Cass turned and ran toward the horses as Dr. Grenwood carefully lifted up Aaren’s shirt. “Aaren. Sweetie, look at me.”

  His eyes fluttered open, and he squinted toward his mom.

  “I know it hurts, but I need you to stay awake and keep your breathing steady. Can you do that for me?”

  Aaren nodded. His dad reached us, hunched down across from me, and held Aaren’s other hand tightly in his. When Ellie and Brock returned with the medical bag and tablecloths, I helped Aaren’s dad fold one to put under his legs and another for under his head. My hands shook as we laid one over his legs to keep him warm. Brenna just stared at him, tears rolling down her face.

  Dr. Grenwood dabbed disinfectant on Aaren’s stomach, which made Aaren gasp and grind his teeth, then his eyes drifted closed. I wanted to do something to help, but I didn’t have a clue in the world what to do. My hands and my stomach quivered—I wasn’t sure if it was from the guilt or the worry or the helplessness, or all three.

  Nothing felt real. Like I watched from a distance, only picking up on things that didn’t matter. Like how Aaren’s mom’s hair was just as wavy as his. Or how her hands never stopped moving. Or how Aaren’s eyelashes were so light, they were almost invisible. Then Dr. Grenwood spoke, pulling me back to the moment, my emotions crashing inside me.

  “Stay with me, Aaren.” Dr. Grenwood rubbed a cream on the wound to numb the pain. “Aaren, look at me. I need your help.”

  Aaren sucked in a breath and opened his eyes.

  Dr. Grenwood kept glancing at Aaren’s face as she worked. “Son, I have a patient who is injured and going into shock. What do you do to treat shock?”

  Aaren’s eyes focused, and his voice came out scratchy and slurred. “Um. Keep him awake and breathing normally. Keep him warm. And …” His brow furrowed in concentration. “Elevate his legs.”

  “Very good.”

  I squeezed Aaren’s hand again. “I’m sorry, Aaren. I shouldn’t have gone up! I knew Brenna wanted to follow me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Aaren’s dad reached out and placed his hand on my arm. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered. I looked into his eyes, and they showed uncertainty. Then the doubt left, and in a commanding voice, he said, “It’ll be okay.” Like if he believed it strongly enough, it’d be true. He wrapped his arm around Brenna to calm her trembling. “It’ll be okay.”

  Dr. Grenwood took an instrument from her bag and gently prodded the wound with it. “This patient has a stomach wound. What would I do?”

  Aaren took a few breaths. “Disinfect it. See if any internal organs were cut.”

  “The wound is deep, but the organs look okay. Hm. The small intestine may be cut.” Dr. Grenwood packed the wound with gauze. “What’s next?”

  Aaren groaned. “Um. Stitch it closed and give the patient an antibiotic.” Then Aaren started breathing too fast. “But the Ameiphus isn’t ready. It won’t be ready for weeks!”

  I glanced up when Aaren’s dad stiffened at his panic, and saw the curly-haired man from the river right behind him. The man disappeared into the crowd just as quickly as my eyes flew back to Aaren.

  Dr. Grenwood gave Aaren’s arm a pat. “It’s okay, Aaren. We have one dose left from last year’s batch. You’re doing great. Just a few more minutes and we’ll get you to my office.”

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see my dad. He gave me a sad smile, but the worried look on his face made my stomach churn, so I looked back to Aaren. He fought to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t. I wished over and over that I could turn back time. Make it not happen. I couldn’t believe I’d cared so much about being able to see the Showdown. It all seemed so stupid now.

  When the two boys returned with the stretcher, Dr. Grenwood pulled strips of fabric from her medical bag and wrapped Aaren’s cut tightly. “Son, we’re going to move you now.” Aaren didn’t even open his eyes or nod. His parents, along with the two kids from Sixteens & Seventeens, moved Aaren onto the stretcher, then carried him to the wagon. I ran alongside the stretcher, hoping Dr. Grenwood would ask me to ride in the wagon with them. I wanted to be with Aaren. To know that everything was going to be okay. But no one asked me to, and I couldn’t get my voice to work. Mr. Grenwood told Aaren’s older sister Thalie to watch Brenna before climbing onto the wagon himself.

  Then they left.

  I stood at the edge of the road, unable to move as I watched the wagon disappear behind the trees long before it traveled the mile and a half down to City Circle. I’m not sure how long I stayed there, staring at the empty road, wishing that what had happened to my best friend was a mistake. A dream. Not real.

  But I knew that only something real could make my heart hurt so much.

  A snowflake landed on my nose and I pulled my winter coat around me tighter. It amazed me that it had turned so cold when the Harvest Festival was only three weeks ago. My parents and I, along with a hundred others, stood at the opening to the tunnel to say goodbye to our guard.

  We didn’t need our guard during the winter. With the Bomb’s Breath protecting any entrance from over the mountain, the tunnel was the only way into White Rock. The windstorms on the plains blew the heavy snows into the tunnel and completely blocked it, so we didn’t have to fear bandit attacks. Browning wasn’t so lucky. They lived ten miles past White Rock, on the flat plains. Their city walls and their own guard weren’t enough to protect them. Bandits didn’t farm, so when they got hungry, they attacked towns for food.

  I heard snow crunch behind me and turned to see Aaren, in actual sunlight for the first time since the Harvest Festival.

  “Do you think there’ll be enough snow to build a fort?” he asked.

  I grinned. His voice was still weak, but at least he had enough energy to stand up—I hadn’t seen that since before the accident. It made my heart feel lighter than it had in weeks. “There’s no way your mom will give you permission.”

  His parents had let me see him the night he was injured, but he wasn’t awake. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that I actually saw him with his eyes open. The first two weeks after his injury, he could barely move. Every free moment I had, I sat on the edge of his bed, told him about school, and read him chapters from our science book. He was too exhausted to even hold the book himself. I was surprised he was able to come today.

  He shook his head. “There may have to be sneaking involved.”

  He was teasing, of course, or he wouldn’t have said it with my parents right next to us. Besides, there was no way he could build a fort. He probably couldn’t even make a snowball—there was still a fear the wound would reopen with any movement.

  “I’m glad you got to come see your brothers off,” I said. “I didn’t think your mom would let you out of bed.”

  “I had to say goodbye.” He bit his lip and looked to where his brothers, Travin and Cole, tightened tarps over a wagon.

  “You’re going to miss them.”

  He nodded.

  I was going to miss them, too. They’d lived next to me all my life. They’d teased me and protected me almost as much as I guessed real brothers would.

  We watched the preparations in silence. This year we had more guards going to Browning to help than ever before. When the people from Browning had traveled home from the Harvest Festival, they were attacked, and the bandits took the food and supplies we’d traded with them. When we got word, panic spread through White Rock. Things were getting worse and everyone felt it. Several people from White Rock volunteered to be guards as their splits through the winter, so the number of guards going grew from eighteen to thirty.

  Thirty guards, and they probably wouldn’t all make it back home.

  My dad told me that anyone who was a bandit could live in a town instead—there were more than enough towns that took in strangers—but they were the ones who didn’t want the responsibility or the work that came with joi
ning a settlement. They just wanted to take what they needed. Before the bombs, there was a central government. Kind of like we have now in White Rock, but it was everywhere—even in areas where there were no towns, like on the plains where the bandits roamed. He said there were police officers, which I thought must be kind of like guards, and they’d stop people from stealing. But since we didn’t have any police or guards on the plains, there was no one to stop the bandits.

  Aaren’s mom was loading medical supplies into a wagon when my mom noticed a tear run down her cheek. This was the first year her two oldest sons were joining the guard. “I’ll be right back,” my mom said, then rushed to Dr. Grenwood.

  While they made last-minute checks on the wagons, I kicked at the ground. The snow was packed hard here, about ten inches deep, but with the strong winds on the plains, the guards said the drifts were more than three feet high at the other end of the tunnel. With the snowstorm that was just starting and the strong winds expected to follow it, they figured the snow would be over six feet high—and completely impassable—in just two days’ time. It seemed the spring and summer rain we should have gotten earlier had decided to all come now.

  I looked toward the tunnel and noticed Brock standing by himself in the crowd, watching the guards work. It took me a while to figure out what was different about his facial expressions. Everyone else was sad the guard members were leaving, but Brock looked like he wanted to join them.

  Stott, the Captain of the Away Guard, walked up to my dad. “Are you sure we can’t take any more guns?”

  My dad looked to the east, as if he could see through the mountains, and shook his head. “If we’re going to keep sending this many guards to Browning, we’ll have to make a trek to the gunsmith at Wilson’s Hollow before long. No town has been willing to trade for guns at any price lately. Is everything loaded?” Stott nodded, and my dad turned to me. “Time to say goodbye.”

  As I walked toward the guard members, I saw Mr. Williams from the mines tie down a tarp that covered an open-topped wagon. He looked terrible. His eyes were red and puffy, his face was blotchy, and he focused on the knots like he was trying to turn off the world. But the strangest thing was that his dog Sandy wasn’t at his heels. Something was definitely wrong.