The Essential Elements: Boxed Set

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The Essential Elements: Boxed Set Page 35

by Elle Middaugh


  “Okay.” I swallowed hard. For some reason, I almost felt like crying. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, kiddo. As soon as you get a chance, you can collect the rest of your things from Marge’s.”

  “The rest?”

  “Yeah. When I retired, the movers brought everything from the old house to the new. Most of your stuff is already in a room upstairs, except what you took to Marge’s.”

  “Awesome.” That would make going out later much easier. “Actually, I’m pretty sure the duffle bag I dropped on the porch had what was left at Aunt Marge’s in it.”

  “Good deal.”

  I looked a block ahead and saw a small pizza shop. The red, yellow, and mint green paint on the storefront was shiny and bold; it looked more vintage than obnoxious, though.

  “How about Mama Sofia’s?” I asked. I’d never been there, but I knew it was a favorite hangout for Holden and the old crew, so I trusted that it was good.

  Dad shook his head. “Closed. New daylight hours only.”

  My brows squashed disagreeably. “Because of us?”

  “Yep. I don’t know if they’re too scared or just too prejudiced, but they refuse to serve Elementals.”

  “How can they even tell the difference?” Because, seriously, if we weren’t out blasting power from our palms, then how?

  Dad smiled. “The curfew helps.”

  “So if we came out during the day—and really, what’s stopping us?—they would think we were normal? Just like that, we could go back into secretly living amongst them?”

  He smiled wryly and shook his head. “No. There’s also the beautiful factor.”

  He was right. I thought it might’ve been physically impossible for an Elemental to not be attractive. It was a defining characteristic that categorized all Elementals and set us apart. I supposed it made us seem almost alien, possessed with otherworldly beauty.

  “What if we wore a disguise?”

  Dad’s disbelieving eyebrows rose a few notches.

  “A disguise? Really?”

  “Well!” I protested. “Like, just some makeup to create some flaws or something.”

  “Maybe…but what’s the point anymore? We’ve already been outed, might as well ride this train to the final station.”

  I raised a brow of my own as we continued walking.

  “You sure you aren’t related to Aunt Marge by more than marriage?”

  He gave me a perplexed look but I shooed it away with my hand. I didn’t feel like getting into the many muddled folk sayings of Aunt Marge—though that had definitely sounded like one.

  “Anyway,” I said, annoyance creeping into my voice. “Are any of these places actually open anymore? I am ridiculously hungry.”

  “None of the old venues, no—well, except for Billy’s Bar & Burgers, oddly enough, but that’s all the way across town. Luckily, a bunch of new shops opened up after the rebuild, catering to Elementals only.”

  My head fell back and I stared at the dusky sky, frustrated. More segregation.

  “We’re no better than they are, if that’s the case.”

  “Hey,” Dad said, putting up a white flag in the form of both hands. “I don’t make the rules, I enforce them—or at least, I used to.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Of course, if Curwen gets his way, I will be making the rules.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Val, language. I’m still your father, you know.”

  “Sorry. But seriously, what does that mean?”

  Dad pointed a few yards ahead of us, temporarily postponing the conversation.

  “If you still want pizza, Mario’s is fantastic.”

  “Sounds great, but don’t change the subject.”

  I was being a little brash, but the hunger combined with the discrimination and bigotry was doing me in. My awful attitude needed to stop, though—even I was getting tired of myself at times.

  “Why was Curwen at the house today?” I asked, more politely this time.

  “Same reason he came around the first three times—he wants me to join his campaign. He thinks having the support and cooperation of a respectable military man will help sway some of the masses in our favor.”

  I didn’t miss the fact that he said ‘our’.

  “So you’re a Modernist?”

  His face scrunched and reluctance peeked through the creases.

  “I guess so. I mean, I never really identified with any political party before. I just sort of did my civic duty and tried to mind my own business, but I guess the fact that I consider joining the navy and protecting human life a duty conclusively points to Modernism, huh?”

  We reached Mario’s and Dad held open the glass front door for me to enter.

  It was so new it practically sparkled in there, but it was still rather plain. Six small wooden tables took up most of the front, each with a dim overhead light dangling a few feet from the tabletop. A busy kitchen full of bustling employees occupied the back, and all that separated them was a long white countertop and an illuminated overhead menu.

  Pizza sauce scented the air in an almost visible cloud of flavor, and the red walls only added to the effect. Checkered floors polished off the setting, giving the space a sort of retro feel while simultaneously achieving that stereotypical pizza-place atmosphere.

  “Welcome to Mario’s Pizzeria, what can I get for ya?” said a familiar voice.

  I subconsciously reached my hand to my shoulder and found, beneath my jacket, the scar of the bullet wound I’d suffered months ago.

  “Kale?” I asked.

  His grin was almost shy. “Hey Val, nice to see you again.”

  “Yeah, you too…”

  It really was nice to see him. He’d saved my life, kept me from bleeding out when I’d been shot. It didn’t even matter that he had been ordered to do so; he was still a hero to me. A hero working at a pizzeria…somehow it seemed appropriate. Unlikeliness was a pretty important characteristic for heroes, I thought.

  Kale glanced between my father and me. “Do you two need a minute to look over our menu?”

  I shook my head. “No, not me.”

  “Nope,” Dad agreed. “I’m ordering a meat-lovers stromboli.”

  “All right,” Kale said with a smile as he jotted it down. “Val?”

  I huffed humorously. “Well, I thought we were sharing a pizza…but I’ll take a calzone instead.”

  “Sorry!” Dad apologized, nearly laughing. “I just couldn’t resist when I smelled that summer sausage and fresh-baked bread.”

  Kale laughed, continuing to act like nothing more than our server.

  “For here or to go?” he asked. “The wait for a table is looking like fifteen minutes, and that’s about how long your food is gonna take.”

  Dad shrugged. “Let’s get it to go.”

  Kale rang up our order, Dad paid, and fifteen minutes later, we had our food in a white takeout bag. Fifteen seconds after that, we were strolling down the road toward the nearest little riverside park.

  Darkness had finally settled in, arc lights joining in with the backdrop of stars.

  There was no one else around. It might have been because of the cold, but I had a feeling it was because of the current state of the world. How quickly things had gotten shot all to hell. One minute, Elementals were striving to become more equal to humans and the next, humans were treating Elementals like plague-ridden mutants to be avoided at all costs. To me, that little flip-flop of events didn’t seem quite fair.

  We sat at a picnic table that had been composed of decaying wood and chipping paint but now was cold metal and hard green plastic. I unrolled the top of my dinner bag, the steam making it look like a tiny white chimney.

  As I chewed on my calzone, I wondered why Kale had acted so reserved, completely passing over any hint of what had happened that infamous day so many months ago. It seemed odd, but then again, I didn’t think anyone was very anxious to rehash those events.

  Plus, I
had an annoying habit of overanalyzing things. That was probably what I was doing—again. I needed to try to work on that.

  I paused. Huh, constructive self-criticism was in interesting addition to my normal stream of consciousness—was that me growing up and becoming more of an adult? Finally realizing some of my flaws and shortcomings so I might try to create something better of myself? I didn’t even know where the internal change of direction had come from. Usually, I nitpicked external situations; now I was nitpicking my inner self.

  “What are you thinking?” Dad asked, knocking me back to the present.

  My head shook subconsciously. “Nothing, really. Just trying to figure out all this change, trying to make sense of it, somehow.”

  “It’s not easy,” he agreed. “And it’s only gonna get harder.”

  I stared at him with wide doe eyes, silently pleading for some sort of direction.

  “What should I do?” I asked. “Should I live my life as best I can and try to ignore the evil going on all around me? Or should I make it my life’s work to try to change that evil into good? Is it even worth it to try?”

  Dad blew out a deep breath and pushed the rest of his stromboli aside. His fingers laced atop the table.

  “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but I’ll tell you what I think. Should you live your life to the fullest? Absolutely, no contest. Should you ignore the evil around you? No, I wouldn’t ignore it. Given what you are, there’s a good chance it’ll come looking for you regardless.”

  He licked his lips and paused before continuing. I stayed silent.

  “Striving to make the world a better place…it’s a noble endeavor, but a very difficult one. Is it worth it to try? I think if your heart’s in it, if it’s something you feel strongly about and it’s something honorable and good, then it’s always worth it to try. I can’t guarantee you’ll succeed, and many times it might feel like all you’re doing is trudging uphill through two feet of shit and a thunderstorm. It might even be like that for the rest of your life, but if you care, truly and passionately, then no matter what happens in the end, you’ll be glad you did it.”

  The sound of a pin dropping would have seemed as loud as shattering glass. There were no words in my head or my mouth, just a vast emptiness as I tried to absorb and process what he’d just said.

  Unfortunately, there was no time.

  My cellphone rang—Sienna, meaning Holden must’ve finally gotten out of work. I’d have to rush home and get ready like I should have done a long time ago.

  Before I could even say hello, however, she cut me off.

  “Change of plans. There’s been a bit of a…complication.”

  Chapter Six

  Billy’s was on fire.

  Sienna had sent me a picture message just seconds after demanding that I meet her at her house ASAP and then hanging up on me.

  I could barely breathe.

  Without a word, I flipped my phone around and showed the picture to Dad. He sprang up like a snake had struck him. “I’m going over there. You get home where it’s safe.”

  “I’m going to Sienna’s,” I said in a rush. “You think this was, like, a hate crime?”

  “I’m certainly not going to assume it was an accident. Now go!” Before waiting to see if I was even going to move, he was sprinting down the street into the night.

  I shook my head to clear the daze, untangled my legs from the picnic table, and tore off in the other direction. After a quick pit stop at home to change out of my old clothes, I was soon standing at Sienna’s back door. I’d decided to just cross the river—it was much faster that way, and inconsequential to a Water Elemental, anyway.

  I knocked, but she was already waiting. The door swung open quickly and she yanked me inside.

  “Geez, Val,” she hissed. “Quit dicking around!” She bolted the door behind me.

  “Chill out, Sienna,” Holden muttered from somewhere in the shadows.

  “Hi Valerie,” Jay added, but I couldn’t see him either. I tried to at least find the shine of their eyes, but the darkness was far too thick.

  “Hi guys,” I replied timidly. “Why are we hiding in the dark?”

  Holden sighed. “It was Sienna’s idea. She feels safer this way.”

  “You’re that worried?” I asked her.

  “Um, yeah! Did you not see the picture I sent you? The tension has finally snapped the line. The dam has broken, the violence has started, and it’s not going to stop. We need to come up with a game plan, or maybe an escape plan.”

  “Sienna,” Holden stressed as he defiantly turned on a lamp and crossed his arms. “You’re taking this too far. I am heavily involved in the campaign, remember? And I can assure you, human-Elemental relations aren’t that bad. It was probably an accident.”

  “But—” Sienna protested.

  Holden cut her off. “Worst-case scenario, even if it was intentional, it was an isolated incident. There won’t be riots in the streets, or burning buildings, or random killings—because I know that’s where your mind is headed. It’s not gonna happen. If it ever does get to that point, it’ll take months if not years of buildup.”

  That was enough to make me feel much better, but not Sienna. She curled up on the couch and stared at her cousin. I sat at the other end, silently weighing the ripening tension between them. A small whirlwind began funneling in the center of the living room, picking up dust and dirt that I never would have guessed was there.

  “Don’t you watch television or movies?” she asked him. “Or read books for fuck’s sake? So many times I’ve seen hidden sects of rebels that creep out of the woodwork and absolutely annihilate the enemy, because the enemy—that’s us, by the way—is caught with their damn pants down.”

  Holden groaned and dragged a hand down his face as he plopped into a chair.

  “Oh, Sienna…”

  “You know it’s true!” she continued determinedly. “I don’t want to be that asshole mooning the world when I get stabbed in the back, okay? So let’s figure something the hell out.”

  I chuckled, but then a fire truck went blazing by, complete with flashing lights and howling sirens, and I remembered why we were there and not out dancing our worries away. It was sobering.

  Holden’s cellphone rang, and I was pretty sure we all knew exactly who it was and exactly what he wanted.

  “Yes sir?” he said by way of greeting. “Of course. I’ll be right there.” A tired smile spread his lips into a thin line. “I gotta go, guys. Dad needs me down at Billy’s.”

  “Of course he does,” Sienna muttered, crossing her arms. Dust resettled on the floor as her blustery little whirlwind died out.

  “Sorry, but you know how it is.” It was probably like this often, I guessed. He slipped back into his coat and adjusted the collar. “Maybe next time I’ll actually get to hang out.”

  Once he left and shut the door behind him, the room fell silent. A clock clicked steadily in the background, slowly ticking our lives away. What had become of them, anyway, our lives? What were we even doing anymore?

  My blonde hair slid silkily across my face as a breeze began funneling through the room. Nervousness radiated off of Sienna in literal miniature gusts. Losing her parents and everything that had happened thereafter must’ve affected her even more than I’d originally assumed.

  There was a heavy sigh from Jay. With his back against the wall and his hands dangling from his knees, he sat casually on the wood floor.

  “You seem like you need a stiff drink, Sienna,” he said.

  She laughed almost crazily, squelching the wind at the same time.

  “You know, that sounds like a great idea! Where could we go to get such a drink? Hmm…” She tapped her chin theatrically. “Oh, that’s right, Billy’s is on fire!”

  “I know of a few other places…” Jay muttered, his tone somewhere between dejected and devious.

  There was a daring glint in his eye that caught me off guard. My initial thought was, Is he not st
ill mourning Charlene? But then, I knew I of all people should understand that everyone copes in their own way. Many people do experience a rush of wildness, a euphoric high before the inevitable tailspin into depression. Maybe that was what was happening with Jay? I’d have to keep a close eye on him to make sure he survived the crash.

  Sienna rose up from the cushions, her excitement almost somber compared to her prior panic.

  “Well, let’s go then.”

  Her eagerness wasn’t misunderstood. We were all stressed—some of us more so than others—and it wasn’t that we’d just suddenly forgotten about it. I knew there was a subtle undertone to her words, a painful hidden meaning for us all: Let’s forget, for just a few hours, how truly awful this life has become.

  So we tried.

  A half hour later we arrived in Northland, home of our football rivals, the Wildcats. Jay pulled over outside an old cinderblock building at the edge of town. A few windows were smashed out, but no light shone from beyond the jagged glass. Boards were nailed across the front door, as was a Do Not Enter sign. Weeds surrounded the place like a moat, and the tarmac drive was crumbling away from years of Pennsylvania weather.

  Hand on the steering wheel, Jay nodded at the decrepit sight. “This used to be a cheese factory.”

  “Cheese?” I asked doubtfully from the backseat. I’d never heard of any local cheese distributors—I got my cheese from the supercenter like most people did.

  He chuckled. “Yes, cheese, but now it’s nothing…except after dark.”

  Jay pulled his truck around back and aimed the headlights at what looked like an abandoned mine shaft. As the wheels rolled us closer to the cavern, unease began spreading through my veins like ice—actual ice. I could feel the temperature in the cab dropping as the glimmering frost crystals slowly spread up my arm. Quickly, I reined it in, but not quickly enough to go unnoticed.

  “You all right, Val?” Jay asked knowingly, our eyes meeting in the rearview mirror. “We’re just gonna park in here so nobody sees the truck, then we’ll walk back over to the old factory. The club is underneath.”

 

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