Soul Catchers

by Carrie Pulkinen

  But then I do.

  A shimmery gold mist seems to fill the woman. The light brightens and dims in slow pulses, like a heartbeat. When it shines, the soul fills the body, but as it dims, it seems to hover slightly above her.

  “See how it pulses?” Liam says. “A soul connected to a healthy body vibrates. She’s slipping away, but not fast enough.”

  I close my eyes, remembering the vision I had of my mother in the woods. Her soul glowed silver, but it didn’t pulse or vibrate. Looking at the dying woman, I wonder where the spirit goes when it leaves the body. Does it go to heaven or hell? Does it wander the earth on another plane, or does it join the collective energy of the universe?

  I should’ve asked my mom when her spirit visited me, but the thought hadn’t crossed my mind at the time. Honestly, I’ve never given much thought to death until now. If there is a hell, will I be condemned there for helping this woman die? Or will I be rewarded with heaven for ending her terrible suffering?

  I have no idea what happens after death, but I do know one thing. I won’t have the blood of another human being on my hands as long as I live.

  “I can’t.” I start to get up, but Liam grabs my hand.

  “Please. Just look. Do you see where it’s connected? I can’t see it, but maybe if you show me where, then I can . . .”

  I look at the soul again, shimmering with life at times, dulling with death at others, and I do see it—a golden cord forming out of the mist and running to the woman’s heart. I don’t know how I know what it is, but I’m certain it’s the only thread keeping her body alive.

  “Can you help her?” the tall man asks.

  “Please, can you end her suffering?” a woman adds.

  A mumble of voices fills the room. “So much pain.”

  “She’s suffering.”

  “Help her.”

  All of them are asking me to end this woman’s life. I stand on shaking legs, my hand slipping out of Liam’s, and turn to face them. Their expressions run from pleading to tired to sad as their gazes implore me to do the unthinkable.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know how.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Liam

  There she goes again. Always running away.

  Mabel grabs my hand. “Go to her. There’s nothing more you can do for me. She needs you.”

  “She may need me, but she sure as heck doesn’t know it if she does.”

  Mabel smiles weakly and squeezes my hand. “Go.”

  So I go. Hopefully I won’t have to chase her through the forest again. I round the corner just in time to see her duck into my room, probably to get her backpack. I stand in the doorway and watch her sling it over her shoulder. “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

  She glares at me. “Roswell. Where else?”

  “How are you planning to get there? It’s over a thousand miles away.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And what will you do at night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I cross my arms and lean in the doorway, blocking her escape. She tries to push past me, but I don’t budge. “Seems to me like you need some help.”

  “Missy said she’d help me find my dad. I need to talk to her, and she’ll—”

  “She’ll what? She isn’t going to leave camp, she’s the leader here.” I can’t help but smile at her. The tawny glow of her skin. The stubborn set of her jaw. The way she narrows her big brown eyes at me. She’s so determined, but she has no idea how to get where she’s going.

  “Missy! There she is. Excuse me.” She steps around me and runs to our leader. “I have to go. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  “I know you do, dear. I have a truck you can take. It’s licensed, so you can stick to the open highways and shouldn’t have any trouble as long as you follow the speed limit.” She looks at me when she says that last part. My foot does get a little heavy sometimes when I drive. “You can get there in two days.”

  “Great.” Wren holds out her hand. “Give me the keys.”

  I laugh. “You can drive now, can you?”

  “I’m sure I can figure it out.”

  “Sure you can.” I take the keys and jingle them in her face. “But just to be safe, I think I’ll do the driving.”

  She crosses her arms. “I have to go alone.”

  “And why is that?”

  Her fingernails make indentions on her arms as she shifts from foot to foot and stares at the ground. “Because I’m already responsible for three people’s deaths. I don’t want to be responsible for yours too.”

  “I’m not going to die. Makka and me are buddies.”

  “Yeah?” She raises her gaze. “And the scar on your face is proof of that.”

  That shuts me right up. It’s true, the wolf came after me, but it was a fluke—a one-time thing because of the blood moon. I’m sure it won’t happen again. “I’ll load the supplies in the truck. You go get cleaned up and meet me at the bottom in thirty minutes.”

  She opens her mouth to protest, but Missy cuts her off. “It’s the only way. You’ll need his help at night to control the wolf. Trust him. He has experience.”

  She narrows her eyes and stares at me like she’s sizing me up. “No cages?”

  “No cages. I promise. But are you opposed to chains?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wren

  Missy shows me to a makeshift shower room at the back of the settlement. Large wooden barrels full of rainwater are connected by tubes to showerheads hanging from a post. Mismatched shower curtains divide the structure into four separate stalls. I peel off my dirty clothes and step under a nozzle, turning a knob to release the water. Icy rain pelts my skin, and I squeal.

  “Sorry, hon. I forgot to tell you we don’t have hot water here.”

  “Thanks.” I wash quickly and turn off the nozzle as soon as the last bit of grime runs off my skin. Missy hands me a set of clean clothes and a hairbrush, and I’m dressed and ready to go in record time.

  Liam is still loading the truck when I arrive. He stops and puts his hands on his hips, looking me up and down with the biggest grin on his face. “Nice outfit.”

  We’re wearing the same dark-green T-shirt and jeans.

  “It looks better on me.” I attempt to flip my hair for emphasis, but my hand just flies through the empty air. I’m not used to having short hair, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Seth would have made fun of my ridiculous attempt to be sassy.

  Luckily, Liam ignores it, although he does stare at me a bit longer than I’m comfortable with. Butterflies flit in my stomach as he holds me with his green-gold gaze until he finally shakes his head and gestures to the supplies. “Water, food, some clean clothes, my rifle. I think that about does it. Got anything to contribute?”

  I unzip my backpack and pull out the knife.

  He whistles. “Not bad. What else do you got?”

  I reach in and pull out the gun. The metal is cold against my skin, and my stomach turns at the sight of it.

  He raises his eyebrows. “Where’d you get that? Steal it from an enforcer?”

  “Your dad.”

  He blinks at me. “You’re a little feisty now that you’re all cleaned up and rested. I like it.”

  “No, seriously. I got it from your dad before he helped me escape.”

  “Oh, well, okay then. You must have nine rounds if there’s one in the chamber. Missy, do you have any more ammo for this?”

  “I think so.” Missy lopes back into the camp while he lifts a three-foot-long plastic storage bin into the back of the truck.

  My palms slicken under the weight of the gun. “There are eight bullets, I think. I had to shoot him with one.”

  The bin slips from his grasp and lands on his foot. He hops on one leg and fails miserably at holding in a groan. “You shot my dad?”

  “He made me do it. He said it was the only way they’d believe I escaped on my own.” I expect him to be mad or at least a little upset, but h
is mouth turns up into a huge grin.

  “I wish I could’ve been there to see that. Where’d you hit him? Shoulder?”

  “In the leg.”

  He slaps his hand on the side of the truck and laughs. “Ha! Classic. He deserved it.”

  “He let me go. He took that bullet for me so I could get away. How can you say he deserved it?”

  His expression goes serious. “You don’t know him like I do.” He turns his back to finish loading the truck, and the conversation is over.

  Missy returns with a box of bullets and puts them into my backpack. I hold the gun away from my body, offering it to her. “I’d really rather not. I’ve shot enough people already.”

  She pushes it back toward me. “You may need to shoot something else. Keep it.”

  I sigh and drop the gun into my bag. The silver of my amulet glints in the light, and I quickly zip the bag shut. Guilt has kept me from telling anyone about the necklace. It’s possible Missy or someone else at the camp could remove the enchantment so I could actually wear the coral stone, but having a constant reminder of my mom’s death hanging around my neck doesn’t sound like a good idea.

  Liam opens the passenger door for me. “We’d better get going. Only eight hours of daylight left.”

  We climb in the truck and bounce down the winding mountain trail, narrowly missing trees as we turn. Liam powers on the radio and flips through the channels until he settles on a classic-rock station and sighs. “I sure do miss my MP3s.”

  “You can’t swipe an old iPod from an empty house on one of your raids?”

  “Nowhere to charge it. We barely get enough solar energy to power our lights up in the mountain. Too many trees. And no, we can’t put the solar panels above the trees because the drones could spot us from the sky. Every one of us has the Sense, so we’re all marked for death if they ever find us.”

  Drones. I’ve been so concerned with getting away from the enforcers on the ground I forgot they could be watching us from above. Feeling suddenly exposed, I lean my head against the window and stare up to the sky. Only small shards of blue peek through the thick canopy. There’s no way a drone could spot us down here. I hope.

  He pulls up to the highway and parks between two firs. “These trees’ll hide us from the road. Wait here.” Before I can protest, he slips out the door and jogs to the highway. He looks to the left, then the right, and jumps behind a tree as a white Toyota speeds by. His chest heaves with breath as he mouths a count of ten before slipping from behind the tree and examining the highway again.

  Seemingly satisfied, he races back to the truck, slams on the gas, and peels out, tires squealing and fishtailing as we enter the road.

  I clutch the door handle with one hand and the dashboard with the other, bracing myself against the jostling vehicle. “That was subtle.”

  He glances at me, then focuses on the road. “If someone saw us entering the highway from the woods, they’d report us. Can’t be too careful, can we?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Don’t worry. This truck is fully registered. There’s no reason for us to draw attention while we’re on the approved highways.”

  “But what if we do? What do we do if we get pulled over or get in an accident or something? What’s the plan?”

  He shrugs. “Run.”

  “Run? That’s it? That’s the plan?”

  He takes a deep breath and lets out a cynical laugh. “I’m dead; you’re a fugitive. We both have the Sense, and neither of us is very good at hiding it. What other choice do we have?”

  I stare straight ahead without answering. What choice do we have? If we get caught, we’re dead. I’m sure by now reports that I’m the wolf have spread. My picture is probably all over the news channel in every community within a thousand miles of New Portland. Liam’s right. We can’t get caught.

  He cuts a sideways glance at me and opens the latch on the back window, sliding it open. “Hey, can you get me a bottle of water from the bin back there? I’m parched.” He smacks his lips to emphasize his dry mouth.

  I turn to reach through the window, but the container is near the back of the truck. I’d have to climb through the glass to get to it. “I can’t reach. You’ll have to pull over if you want one.”

  One corner of his mouth turns up in a grin. “Nope. Can’t pull over here. Use your telekinesis. It’ll be real quick. No one’s around to see.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No. We’ll get in a wreck or something. I’ll find some way to screw things up.” I turn around and cross my arms. I got lucky with the door to the hidey-hole. Twice. And luck has never been good to me. There’s no way I’ll chance using my powers again.

  “Please, do it one time. If something bad happens, I promise I won’t ask again.”

  He’s not going to give up. “What if the truck flips over and we both die?”

  “We’ve got to die sometime. Just give it a try.”

  “Fine.” I get on my knees and stick my arm out the window. With a flick of my wrist, the hinged lid flips open. Huh. Look at that. I think about the water, and all the containers vibrate in the chest. If I’m not careful, I’ll send the whole lot of them crashing into the back window. I take a deep breath and focus on one plastic bottle. My face scrunches in concentration, and I glance at Liam to be sure he’s not laughing at me. His eyes are trained on the road. I push out my energy, and a bottle flies into my hand. Just like that. Like it was easy. I stare at it for a minute before I hand it to him.

  “See? I told you you could do it.” He barely finishes the sentence when we hear a loud crack from the bed of the truck. He glances in the mirror, and I turn around in time to see the container’s lid rip off and slam into the tailgate.

  I glare at him.

  He laughs. “What? You can’t blame the Sense for that. Blame yourself for not closing the lid.”

  It’s hard to argue with his logic. If I had closed the lid, it wouldn’t have flown off. But if I hadn’t used the Sense to open it in the first place, it wouldn’t have had the chance to get ripped off. I don’t know. I get so confused around Liam.

  I thought I hated him. I did hate him for the past ten years. I blamed him for everything that happened to me as a kid, but the more I get to know him, the less I feel like it was his fault. I don’t know why he set that book on fire, but I’m sure it wasn’t because he wanted to get me into trouble. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would want to hurt anyone on purpose. He’s the most compassionate person I’ve ever met.

  An old Journey song plays on the radio, and he turns it up and sings along. He’s off key and really loud, but he sings with such conviction it makes me smile. His hair looks nice short, especially since it doesn’t cover his face anymore. He has a strong jaw, full lips, and eyes so bright I’m drawn to him every time he catches my gaze. The scar is tragic, but it doesn’t make him any less good looking.

  I chew my bottom lip and stare out the window. I shouldn’t be attracted to him. Sure, he’s cute and funny, and he’s been nothing but nice to me. But he’s nice to everyone. He’s shown no indication of being interested in me. I’m sure he’s only here because Missy made him come.

  And anyway, I’m on a mission. I don’t have time to be distracted by a boy. What I need to be thinking about is what I’m going to say to my father when I find him.

  Hi, Dad. I’m your long-lost daughter. Mom said you have a cure for the wolf disease, so hand it over. Maybe I shouldn’t even tell him I’m his daughter. If Mom didn’t want him to know me, she must have had a reason. Whatever it was, I’ll have time to think about it later. I’ve never been on a road trip before, and I want to take in as much of the view as I can.

  But the low hum of the engine and gentle rocking of the cabin make my eyelids heavy. I lean my head back and close my eyes, letting the soft bump and rumble of the road lull me to sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Liam

  “Wa
ke up, Sleeping Beauty.” I nudge Wren on the shoulder, and her head rolls to the side, knocking against the window with a thud. Oops. She’s awake now.

  “Ow. What was that for?” She rubs her head, confusion clouding her face as she looks around. “Where are we?”

  Trees surround the truck, so it must be startling to her. “It’ll be dark soon. I pulled off the highway so we can set up camp.”

  “But we’re not supposed to be out here. What if we get caught?”

  I open the door and slide out of the truck. After six straight hours of driving, my legs are stiff and my back aches. My joints pop as I stretch the soreness out of my muscles. “We won’t get caught. There aren’t any cities, occupied or abandoned, for miles. Closest one with people is New Salt Lake City, and it’s not close enough to call it close. I made sure the truck’s covered. We’ll be okay. I promise.”

  She takes a deep breath and gets out of the truck too. She follows me around to the back, and I toss her a bottle of water and a sandwich. “Better eat fast. As soon as you’re done, we’ll need to get set up.” I lift the chain and collar from their box in the truck, and her eyes widen at the sight.

  “What’s that for? You don’t intend to put that thing on me, do you?”

  “It’s better than a cage, ain’t it?” I take it to the thickest, strongest tree trunk I can find and clamp it on. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little nervous about this. The last time I used the chain, Makkapitew tried to rearrange my face. But I don’t think that’ll happen again. Wren says she can’t control the beast, but she was somehow able to spare her boyfriend. Though, if the guy’s out hunting her now . . . I suppose that’s why she stopped herself from calling him that. Anyway . . . she won’t let Makka hurt me.

  I hope.

  “The chain and collar are made of iron and coated in lead, so they’re heavy. You’ll have to hold it in place until you transform.”

  “Lead,” she mumbles through the bread in her mouth. She swallows and takes a big gulp of water. “You want me to put a poisonous metal against my skin? It’s deadly.”