Solstice

by P. J. Hoover

  “Where are we going?” I ask once Chloe’s swiped her FON and sat down next to me. Aside from her cryptic exploring talk, I’m not sure what Chloe has in mind.

  “The Greenbelt.”

  I don’t even try to keep the smile off my face. My mom’s never let me go to the Greenbelt before. She tells me it’s a breeding ground for vagrants and criminals, but all the kids at school go there on the weekends since it’s fresh water and hasn’t yet run dry.

  “How was your date?” Chloe asks.

  My date. “Which one?” I say, deciding to stall a bit.

  Chloe rolls her eyes. “Puh-lease, Piper. You only had the date of the century.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Tell me about Reese. I want to hear everything.”

  And I want to tell her everything—eventually. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

  “You better,” Chloe says.

  The ride takes forever because for some reason everyone in Austin is riding the shuttle today. Or at least it seems that way. Randy’s sister gets off at her elementary school, and I relax when I see hundreds of kids there, too, waiting to go inside. They let all the younger kids go to school on weekends during heat advisories to take advantage of the air conditioning. The thermometer on the side of the school reads one hundred and seventeen in bright red numbers. Four degrees more than when we left. I push away thoughts of the heat bubble and try to focus on our day.

  When we get off the shuttle at our stop, the change is immediate. The shuttle has eco friendly A/C, which may not be the greatest, but outside we’re now at the mercy of the atmosphere.

  “Maybe we should—” I start.

  Chloe puts her hand up. “Don’t even say it.” And like she’s trying to make a point, she takes the herbal heat suppressor out of her pocket and smashes it under her foot.

  Sweat trickles through my thick hair and runs down my neck. “Aren’t you hot?” I say.

  She kicks at the dirt with her toes. “I feel great. Like today’s the start of a whole new future.”

  And despite the heat, her enthusiasm infects me.

  We make our way down a rocky path until I can’t see the road anymore. Ahead of us is the Greenbelt complete with trees and rocks and a trickle of water—fresh and clear—and we take off our shoes and dip our feet in. It’s still early, and though I’m looking around for either vagrants or criminals, I don’t see either. No one is around besides the two of us. Chloe and me.

  I look at Chloe, and Tanni’s words hit me in the head causing the bump there to throb. Chloe will die. I push the words out of my mind, but they’re persistent.

  “What?” Chloe’s looking at me. She still has a smile, but only half-sized.

  I’m not about to tell her about Tanni’s prediction, so I smile in return. “Nothing.”

  “No really. You’ve been looking at me funny all week.”

  Have I been that transparent?

  “You’re imagining things.” I reach up to her arm and feel her tattoo. “I’m just excited we got these.” But I pull my hands back when I touch her. With the temperature as high as it is, Chloe’s skin should be burning, but it feels cool.

  “Yeah. I can’t believe you really did it,” she says.

  My mouth falls open. “You thought I’d chicken out?”

  “Let’s face it, it’s really the only rebellious thing you’ve done since I’ve known you.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I think about Reese and Shayne and the mixed-up night before. Will Chloe be mad I kissed Reese? I’ll figure out a way to bring it up slowly and then I’ll tell her I have no interest I him.

  “So what gives? Why are you looking at me so funny?”

  I’m not going to tell her about Tanni. But still…

  “Do you believe in fate, Chloe?” As I say it, the heat seems to press down on me.

  She kicks the water with her foot. “Like whether we were fated to be friends?”

  “Kind of.” I splash some water across onto the rocks, watching it dry almost as soon as it hits. I see a tiny pool of fish, swimming circles and trying to reach the next part of the creek. So many fish have died off; only the tiniest ones still live here.

  Chloe rubs my tattoo, and again, I’m struck by how cold she is. Like her body isn’t processing the heat at all. She’s not even sweating. “Yeah. I think we were destined to be friends,” she says. “I felt that way from the first day we met.”

  I felt that way, too. On my first day of public school after being homeschooled my entire life, I was sure I’d talk to no one the entire day. In fact, I vowed I wouldn’t. Since my best friend Charlotte had died in sixth grade, I kept my distance from people.

  I decided I wouldn’t make friends, and my mom would be happy. And if my mom was happy then I could keep this small semblance of freedom. But no sooner had I found a seat on the shuttle than Chloe plunked herself next to me.

  “You aren’t going to hog the whole seat, are you?” Chloe asked.

  I shook my head, and down she sat.

  I did my best to keep my mouth shut, but Chloe had been persistent.

  “Are you new?” she asked.

  I nodded, still trying to keep my vow of silence.

  “So where did you move from?” she asked.

  “Chicago,” I finally said, thinking I could end the conversation even though this girl seemed kind of cool. “Homeschooled.”

  “Wow. Your whole life?”

  “Yeah. Even before that when I lived in Virginia,” I said.

  Chloe offered me a Life Saver then, giving me my choice of colors. I reached for the one on the top, trying to be polite.

  She scrunched up her nose. “You really like the green ones?”

  I hated the green ones. They reminded me of fish scales. “No, but that’s okay.”

  She grabbed the green Life Saver out of my fingers and pitched it out the shuttle window, which shocked me since littering was way illegal. “Pick your favorite color,” she said.

  I took a red one. And we’d been friends ever since.

  Movement off in the tall trees catches my eye. I look through the barren trunks but see nothing. Not even leaves rustling. I slowly realize the whole world is still. And hot.

  “How about death?” I say. My chest tightens even as the words come out. But I can’t stop myself now. “Do you believe fate determines ahead of time when someone will die?”

  Chloe turns my way, and our eyes meet. She stares at me, not saying a word. I notice her orange bandana holding back her hair, matching the burning sun overhead. She’s stopped smiling, and I know she’s thinking about my question.

  She stands up and moves farther down the creek. It narrows to a trickle here, hardly moving over the rocks. They say the creek’s been drying out for years, and once it stops flowing, the clean water source to Austin will be cut off. Chloe squats down and puts her hands in the water, bringing it up to her face, but instead of drinking it, she lets it slip through her fingers.

  Chloe will die.

  The light shifts, and I imagine her there, lying dead in the creek, facing downward, looking toward Hell.

  Chloe will die.

  I close my eyes and suck in a breath. I smell the earth around me—the rocks and the soil and the tree bark. And I smell something else. Pungent and odorous. The thick smell of rotting flesh.

  “I don’t know,” Chloe says.

  I’ve forgotten she hasn’t answered. I try to push the smell away. “You don’t know if you believe in fate?”

  “I don’t know if death is known ahead of time.” She reaches down again, scooping more water with her hands and letting it slip away.

  Far off, in the distance, the sirens wail. I pull out my FON and confirm the deadly temperature of one hundred and twenty-two. The heat bubble has come.

  I jump to my feet. “We need to go, Chloe. We need to get out of here.”

  The rotting smell is even stronger. I look at the trees, and this time I see a man, short and strong, and when he moves to the side, I
see wings attached to his back. White as clouds, and so long, the tips nearly touch the ground behind him.

  He ignores me. He’s looking right at Chloe.

  Chloe will die.

  The man takes a step toward Chloe. She’s looking right at him but doesn’t seem to notice he’s there. From overhead comes the thump of the disperser missile being fired. I brace myself. All I know is I need to get Chloe away from here.

  “Chloe! We need to go now!” I move to take a step toward her, but the heat presses in on me. The air’s so thick, I’m having a hard time finding oxygen.

  Chloe opens her mouth to answer me, but her words won’t come either. And for the first time, panic crosses her face.

  “Run, Chloe!” I know the man approaching her is Death. He’s coming for Chloe.

  She doesn’t move; it’s like her mind has stopped processing the world around her. The winged man takes another few steps, gliding so smoothly across the earth, it’s like he’s flying. His rotten smell permeates the air. The heat descends, and Chloe falls to the ground.

  Chloe will die. The voice in my mind chants over and over.

  “Shut up!” I can’t take it. I need to reach Chloe before Death does. I suck in the hot air and begin to run. But the winged man is already there, by her side, and he’s grabbed her wrist.

  Her face tightens, and the color drains out. I’ve almost reached her when I stop in the wet bed of the creek and see Shayne. I don’t wonder why he’s here; right now, I don’t care.

  “Help me!”

  He hears me. I know he does. The winged man shimmers and begins to fade. Chloe’s fading, too. I cross the distance and break their arms apart. The man fights me but lets go with a glance over my shoulder. And then he stands there watching. I manage to get my hands under Chloe’s armpits and drag her from the water. She’s pale and cold, but she’s still breathing. My face is covered in tears, but I don’t take the time to wipe them away as I sink down next to her.

  “I can’t.” Shayne says, standing next to the winged man.

  I look up, meeting his eyes.

  “Can’t what?” I say.

  “I can’t help you. She’s supposed to die.”

  “No! She’s not. She’s alive.” Chloe has to be alive. I know it. Why did she have to ignore the heat advisory anyway?

  He shakes his head and places a hand on her limp chest. “She shouldn’t be.” Under his palm, I see her chest rise and fall, erratic. She’s not breathing enough. And she’s pale. Way too pale.

  I stand and punch at him with my fists, but he catches them.

  “She can’t die.”

  Shayne lets me cry. He doesn’t argue with anything I’m saying. He doesn’t try to explain.

  The breath is moving in and out of her body. It’s shallow but still there. And the man with wings has vanished.

  “She’s alive,” I say.

  Shayne reaches out and wipes my face. His fingers come back covered with dirt that’s mixed with my tears. “She has to die, Piper. It’s the way things are.”

  I shake my head and try to stay my tears, try to look fierce. “I won’t let her die.”

  Shayne doesn’t speak. He looks to Chloe, pale on the ground, but breathing. I bite my lip to keep from saying anything, trying to piece out why Shayne is even here. Why would he be here anyway?

  It’s only after we stand there in our silent deadlock for over a minute that Shayne finally responds. “If you had a choice, would you want her to live?”

  It has to be one of the stupidest questions I’ve ever heard. “Of course.”

  Shayne looks to the trees and seems to consider something.

  “I would always want her to live,” I say again just in case he didn’t hear me the first time.

  He turns back my way and nods. “Will you come with me somewhere? Please?”

  On the ground, Chloe’s stopped breathing, and I’m about to say something when I notice everything else has stopped too. Not even the water is moving. Every single drop is frozen in time. The fish I saw swimming earlier are still. It’s like the entire world hibernates. I squat down to Chloe.

  “She’ll be fine.” He knows what I’m thinking.

  “I should get her to a hospital. She could have heat stroke.”

  Shayne shakes his head. “I swear, she’ll be fine.”

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “She’ll stay just like this until we get back. No one will bother her. I promise.”

  “What if she wakes—?”

  “Seriously, Piper. Trust me. Just this once.” His voice is layered with frustration, and his eyes plead with me.

  I want to trust him. And I want Chloe to live. And if one is tied to the other, I’m willing to take the chance. Somehow Tanni and the winged man of death and Shayne being here now are all linked.

  I move into Shayne’s outstretched arms, and he wraps them around me and fills me with hints of a courage that wasn’t there seconds ago.

  “It’ll be okay,” he says. “Right?”

  Maybe there is still some fear in my eyes. “Right.” Even I hear my voice shake.

  “Good.”

  We don’t walk like I think we will. Instead, we start sinking into the ground. I clench my fingers into Shayne’s sides because the movement is so sudden.

  “It’s okay,” he says again. “Remember?”

  I can’t answer because, in the next second, I’m swallowed by the earth. But instead of dirt and grit, I’m in a silvery void of flowing liquid mercury which seeps into my mouth and ears and nose.

  I’m going to drown.

  I hold my breath, sure the liquid will kill me, and in seconds, my lungs feel like they will collapse. I try to hold out a little longer. Maybe the silver fluid will be over soon. But the seconds pass, and I can’t stand it anymore.

  I take a breath.

  Instead of gagging me, the liquid fills my lungs, and they expand and contract as if with normal air. And in that moment, I finally believe Shayne. It will be okay.

  I shut my eyes and hold tight onto Shayne, and we seem to float in nothingness. Nowhere on Earth. Like a world all its own. Again I breathe in, searching for a taste in the silvery liquid, but it’s like formless ether, liquid and gas and nothing all at the same time. Though we are floating, a current pulls on us, downward and upward, right and left. Pulling us toward our destination. When I feel cool air on my face again, I dare to open my eyes.

  We’re in a cavern made of rust-colored rocks. Silver fluid trickles down the walls and pools on the hard-packed dirt floor. Light seems to come from the pools of silver and casts all kinds of weird shadows on the walls and ceiling above. Next to us is an underground river, and it’s so dark, the water looks black. But it’s bubbling, and voices come from it.

  The hum of voices is freaking me out, but Shayne hardly glances at the water. He pulls a large gold coin from his pocket and spins it around on his fingers. It flashes in the dim silver light of the cavern, and I see a boat coming across the river toward us.

  I haven’t moved, and I realize I’m gripping Shayne’s arms so hard my fingers hurt. So I loosen my grip and grab his hand instead. “Where are we?” Unlike our hot Earth above, there’s a breeze blowing through the cavern that smells of burning sweetness and cools the temperature down way below ninety.

  He turns to me as the boat pulls up to the dock. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?”

  I have, but I don’t want to say it. And he doesn’t press me. I can’t believe it, because it can’t possibly be true. Because if it is true, does that mean I am dead in place of Chloe?

  The boat’s tied up now, and a man jumps out onto the long dock extending into the river and walks toward us. The black water behind him seems to extend forever.

  “You have company.”

  Shayne nods, and with his lips pressed together, he looks as nervous as I am. “She said she wanted to come.”

  The man lifts a thick hairy eyebrow. “Let’s hope so.”

>   Shayne looks toward me, and I nod. My hand hurts from grabbing his so hard, but I’m not letting go. The water’s still bubbling, and the voices sound more like cries. I swear I see things swimming around out there in the black water. Things with horrible faces and sharp teeth.

  Shayne flips the gold coin off his thumb with his finger, and the man catches it.

  “Really. You know it’s not necessary.” But the man pockets it anyway.

  “I don’t ever want anyone to say I don’t pay my fare,” Shayne says.

  The man’s face cracks into a broad smile. “No one would ever say anything of the sort.” His skin looks as thick as leather, and his smile lines are so pronounced, they look sculpted. And his hair’s mostly missing with the exception of a few tufts above his ears and his giant, bushy eyebrows. The smile makes me think if I weren’t around, the man would be tempted to muss up the top of Shayne’s hair or cuff his shoulder or something equally as endearing.

  “That’s what you say. But not everyone agrees.” Shayne begins to walk toward the dock, and since I’m holding his hand, I follow, trying to take in my situation without totally freaking myself out.

  The man talks about the boat as we walk, like it’s a favorite family member, and he’s so friendly, I can’t help but feel I’ve known him my whole life.

  “My name’s Piper.” I figure I better go ahead and introduce myself if Shayne’s not going to. The dark walls of the cavern shift and flicker around me, and the water’s still moving. But the darkness wraps around me and cools my skin from the world above.

  The man stops walking. “Piper.” He presses his lips together. “It’s a good name.”

  “What’s yours?”

  The man looks to Shayne, who I see gives a small nod.

  “Charon. I’m Charon.”

  My breath catches. I’ve studied enough mythology in my life to know who Charon is. He’s the ferryman. I turn to Shayne. “Then that means…”

  His eyes meet mine, and I see the red specks in his brown irises again, but now they’re flickering. “You’re in Hell.”

  I ask the question that has to follow. “And you are…”

  “Hades. Lord of the Underworld.”