Fire & Flood (27 page)

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Authors: Victoria Scott

BOOK: Fire & Flood
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I’ve almost gone into cardiac arrest by the time I near the top of the formation. Heights have never been an issue for me. But I guess that was before I decided to go rock climbing with no training, little sleep, and severe dehydration.

Running my hands over the ledge, I grab hold of a fist-sized stone and flip myself over the side. Then I lie on my back and wheeze like a pack-a-day smoker. I decide I might take up smoking after this thing is over. And any other recreational drug that’ll help me forget the things I’ve seen. On second thought, drugs make you ugly. Scratch that. I pledge to get weekly massages instead.

After catching my breath, I get to my feet and realize the formation isn’t all that wide. It’s maybe five football fields long, but only about thirty feet across. Overhead, the sky is a crisp shade of blue. And from here, the sun seems even bigger, like it’s preparing to swallow me whole. I smell fresh soil and the faint scent of metal. It’s refreshing, considering the only thing I’ve smelled in days is BO. Plenty of it mine. Superhot.

Carefully, I cross the distance to the other side of the formation, and look out across the desert. A tidal wave of excitement rushes through my body. There, on the horizon, is base camp. Torches are lit in a circle and small huts dot the interior. My eyes widen when I notice green grass growing within and around the camp. But that can’t be possible unless …

And then I spot it.

Water.

A thin stream runs between the huts and past the circle of torches. My throat tightens just thinking about having a taste. For
the past twenty-four hours, it’s felt like I’ve had cotton balls shoved into my mouth. And now I see so much
water
.

I’m so close,
I realize.
Maybe a half-hour walk. Fifteen minutes if I run.

Stepping closer to the ledge, I look again. Just as I suspected, I don’t see anyone walking around the camp. Sure, there could be people inside the huts. But something tells me there aren’t. Glancing down the side of the cliff, I wonder how quickly I could make it down.

I could win this leg.

I’m so close, I can taste it.

My heart sinks when I remember the promise I made Harper. I have to free her Pandora. And I will.

But then I will grab Madox and
run
.

Spinning around, I scour the formation, searching for RX-13. It doesn’t take long to find her. The rope that was tied around her left leg is tangled in some foliage growing between the stones. When the eagle spots me, she squawks and beats her wings.

“It’s okay, girl,” I say, bending over the Pandora. “I’m going to cut you loose.”

“No, you’re not,” a voice says from behind me. I bolt upright and goose bumps race along my arms. It’s him.

I reach for the blade in my back pocket, then slowly turn around.

Titus stands twenty feet away, his hair matted with blood, face swollen and bruised. “We’re going to need that Pandora.”

I back up so that I’m blocking Harper’s eagle. My mind spins with surprise, but one thing remains clear — I can’t let him hurt RX-13. Though if it comes down to me against him, I’m not sure what I’ll do. He’s hurt, but so am I. And he easily has eighty pounds on me.

“Back away from her.” Titus tips the point of his knife toward himself. “We don’t want to hurt her quite yet. Unless you’re eager to get on with it.”

“What are you talking about?” I snarl. There’s no use pretending anymore. I hate Titus. And it’s high time he realizes that.

“Well, we each have to kill a Pandora that isn’t our own. So I’m going to kill that bird. And you’re going to kill mine.” He points over his shoulder, and I spot his bear on all fours some distance away.

AK-7 jerks his head like this is the first he’s hearing of this plan. Pain and anger fill the animal’s dark eyes, but mostly, the bear looks defeated.

“I’ve gotta tell ya, I’ve had nothing but good luck since that dick sucker punched me last night.” Titus squares his shoulders. “You know I could’ve taken him, right? I mean, if he’d fought fair?” He shakes his head. “Anyway, once my boys — sorry, my
ex
-boys — distracted Guy, I headed toward these rocks. And when I got here last night, I heard that bird making a racket. So I waited until morning so I could see, and I crawled my ass up here. And there” — he gestures toward RX-13 — “was a Pandora just waitin’ to be killed.”

Titus bites his bottom lip to hide a smile. “But you know what? Things just got better from there. Because right as I was about to slice that yappy bird’s head off, I saw your bitch friend beneath that tree. And
then
I look out across the desert, and you know who I saw?” He nods his head toward me and mouths the word
you
. “I couldn’t believe you were coming to find me.”

I toss the knife in my hand and catch it so that the blade faces downward. “I wasn’t coming to find you, Titus. I’d rather leap off the side of this thing than be anywhere near you.”

He tilts his head and shrugs. “That’s always an option.”

Titus strides toward me, his arms outstretched like he’s going to give me a hug. It’s a show of safety, but I don’t miss the knife still gripped in his palm. I take another step back and hear RX-13 shriek behind me. Without thinking, I glance over my shoulder to see what’s happened.

It’s a terrible move.

Titus crosses the distance between us. He grabs me around the middle and shoves his knife against my neck. “Always worried about those damn animals,” he growls, thrusting me against him. He looks me up and down, then meets my eyes. “It’s your Achilles’ heel, sweetheart. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get in our way. We’re partners, see? Now give me your knife.”

Gritting my teeth, I let him steal the blade from my hand. As soon as I release it, he spins me in front of him and presses his own knife against my back. Flashbacks of last night torture me. I can’t believe I’m in the exact same position again, Titus behind me with a weapon to my body. Again.

He shoves me toward AK-7 but keeps an arm around my waist. “Let’s get this over with.” Seeing us coming, the bear lifts his head. The creature’s ears perk, and he starts backing up. But Titus just moves faster and yells out, “Stop moving, AK-7. You stand still.”

Titus pushes me so I’m inches away from the bear. I can feel the grizzly’s breath hot against my face. The Pandora searches my face, then glances at Titus nervously. My head jerks back suddenly and I feel Titus’s hand beneath my neck. He presses his mouth against my cheek and says, “I’m going to help you win, Tella.” Then he slips a knife into my hand and closes my fist around it. “I want you to plunge this into my Pandora’s heart.”

AK-7 jerks backward, and Titus pushes me forward to match his steps. Then he slides the other knife up my back and presses it against the base of my scalp. “Kill my Pandora, or I’ll kill you.”

Ten minutes ago, I had thought I could win. That I could make it to base camp first. But now I realize it wouldn’t have mattered. I hadn’t killed a Pandora. And I’m not sure I can now. Or ever.

Titus guides my hand toward his Pandora, and the bear drops down on his haunches, like he’s already given up. I stifle a sob and look at the great beast before me. If Titus broke an animal this powerful, then how do I stand a chance against him? Feeling him behind me, I know my only chance to escape is to do as he says.

I don’t want to hurt AK-7, but this moment will last only minutes, maybe seconds. And I have to kill a Pandora if I want to continue the race. What if this is the only chance I get? What if saving the grizzly means killing my brother?

I move the knife slowly toward the bear. His eyes widen when he realizes I’m going to do it. But that doesn’t stop me. I move the knife closer — my hand shaking — and the bear groans deep in his throat. That doesn’t stop me, either. But when I spot the open wounds along the animal’s stomach — I freeze. Pus and blood ooze over his muzzle, and I imagine the things Titus has done to this creature. The animal who has protected him. The animal who didn’t ask to be born into this. Finally, I think of Cody, imagine he is here telling me what to do.

I raise the knife in my hand.

The Pandora closes his eyes.

And I drive the blade straight into Titus’s thigh.

The scream that erupts from him rattles me to my core. I feel him drop to the ground, and I don’t hesitate. I spin around and race toward the eagle. It takes longer than expected, but I’m finally able to pull her leg from the rope. The moment RX-13 is free, she spreads her wings and soars into the sky. She releases a wild call and dives down the side of the formation. Running to the ledge, I search for Harper.

She’s there! Oh my God. I can see her!

“Harper,” I scream.

She whips her head in my direction, and when she sees her eagle, she offers her uninjured arm as a perch. The Pandora lands gracefully. I expect her to ask me what’s happening. To say she heard someone scream. But she doesn’t. She just looks at me for a moment, glances at base camp — and starts racing toward it.

“Harper, no!” I yell in a panic. “I need help. Titus is up here.”

She stops dead and whirls around. Though she’s already far away, I can see how her head falls to one side like she’s in pain. Tilting her chin up, she calls out, “It’s my daughter, Tella. My
daughter
.” And then she’s gone.

My mind reels. Harper has a daughter. I never imagined — knowing her only as a fierce teenage beauty — that it was possible. But of course it is. It explains why she was so weird around Jaxon and Olivia. And around Caroline and Dink. They reminded her of her own child. I hate her for leaving me, but I can’t pretend to understand how she must feel.

Watching her sprint toward base camp, I wonder if she’ll be able to get in. Has she killed a Pandora? Then I remember something Titus said while debating rescuing Nick from the quicksand:
He let your little friend with the bird kill his Pandora.

My friend with the bird — Harper.

Harper killed Nick’s Pandora.

And now she’s eligible to win. But where is Madox? I start to search for him, but I hear something behind me that demands my attention. I spin on the balls of my feet and find Titus standing inches away. He’s pressing down on his bleeding thigh with one hand and pointing his blade toward me with the other.

“I’m going to kill you,” he says. And I can tell from the fury contorting his face that he may be right.

That I may die today.

My first instinct is to move away from the ledge. Falling would be worse than facing Titus. I manage to take a few steps toward the middle before his open palm whips across my face.

The blow makes everything disappear. Sound. Smell. My vision. It’s all gone. All that’s left are the rocks digging into my cheek. And then everything comes back
louder
. Titus screaming. Titus reeking.

Titus standing over me with two knives in his hands.

I scramble for my blade like I can’t accept that he has them both. Harper would never have been beaten this easily. But she’s gone. And so is Guy. And everyone else along with them. Now it’s just me and him. I have no chance, I realize. I’m not a skilled fighter. I’m not an analytical whiz who can outsmart my opponent. At least not when they’re hovering over me. I’m just a girl who loves purple and Greek food and mani-pedis and singing out of tune. A girl who would give almost anything to be away from here and magically back in Boston, hanging out with her best friend, Hannah. I’m just a girl who thought she could save her brother.

Titus raises his boot into the air — the same one he killed Nick with — and brings it down on my ankle. I scream in agony as my foot twists in an unnatural direction. But my cries don’t stop him. He only swings his boot out and slams it into my ribs.

I have to get away from him!

Turning onto my stomach, I rise up and try to crawl, my damaged ankle dragging behind me. Something crashes into my butt and I sprawl out onto my belly.

Faster, Tella!

Adrenaline kicks in, the desire to survive despite all odds. I spin around and bring myself to my feet. Pain rips through my body
and nearly blinds me. I don’t have much time to think before I feel Titus’s fist connect with my jaw.

For some reason, after all the ways he’s hurt me, I still can’t believe he punched me.
Punched
me. I always wondered what it would feel like. To get socked in the face. And now I know. Something about this makes me laugh.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Titus pauses. It must intrigue him, hearing someone laugh while they’re down. I smile up at him from my stone grave, knowing my teeth are laced with blood.

“You’re just so pathetic.” I laugh until my sides ache. Until tears fill my eyes.

And then I lunge at his legs and bite into flesh.

Titus howls and brings his elbow down onto the back of my neck. I don’t care about the pain anymore, though. I’m hysterical with adrenaline. Drunk with it. I spring to my feet and hold up my fists.

Titus eyes me. “God, you
are
amazing, Tella. A girl filled with surprises. If only you’d been smarter about your alliances.” My heart kicks faster as he raises the blade in his right hand. I don’t know where the other one went. I guess it’s in his back pocket. If I can get to it, then perhaps I stand a chance.

Mad with fear, I dive toward him, my hand seeking the second knife.

Then I stop dead.

I glance down.

I found a knife!

It’s right here — buried in my abdomen.

Titus pulls the blade out slowly and I slump to the ground. Amazingly, I don’t feel a thing. I just stare at the wound and back at him with the wonder of a small child. The muscles in my face relax, and my whole body goes numb.

I know I should lie still and not move an inch; it’ll keep the blood in longer. But I also know it’s over for me. And though I’ve never thought about my death before — not
really
— I know I want to die on my feet.

I struggle to stand and Titus takes a few steps back, like he can’t believe his eyes. Then his face changes, twists with a sinister shadow.

“Your will to survive was cool at first, baby,” he says. “But now it’s getting irritating.” He tosses his bloodied blade to the ground. “As much as I’m starting to hate you, I’m not sure I can kill you myself. But I can let gravity do that for me.”

I stumble backward, but pause as a thought occurs to me. I don’t want to fall to my death. But maybe if he shoves me off the ledge, I can take him along. Give the other Contenders a chance to finish the race without him … out there.

Titus rushes toward me. But before he can cross the distance between us, something blocks his path.

His claws are four inches long.

He weighs over eight hundred pounds.

And he’s moving toward Titus, a terrible growl building in his throat.

“AK-7, stand down,” he says, trying to step around the bear. But the bear cuts him off. “I said, get the
fuck
out of my way.”

The grizzly bear rises up on his hind legs. His back swells. And he releases a roar that makes my blood run cold.

He’s protecting me,
I realize.
AK-7 is protecting me.

I can hardly make out Titus behind the beast, but I can see his face — and the moment he understands. He reaches behind his back and withdraws the last knife. The other is still on the ground, too far away for either of us to reach it.

“Come on, then!” Titus screams. “Come at me!”

The bear lands on all fours and races in his direction. And even though Titus is insane, he does something that surprises me still — he runs
toward
the bear. At the last second, before they collide, Titus lays himself out like he’s diving for home base. He slides beneath the bear’s legs and comes out the other side — directly in front of me. Bolting to his feet, his thigh gushing blood, he grabs me by the neck and drags me toward the ledge.

AK-7 roars again, but stops when Titus jabs his knife under my chin. My feet all but dangle off the side of the formation, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

This is it,
I think. My last thought isn’t of my brother. Or my mom or dad. It’s of Guy. The way his face changes when he smiles. The way he never cracks his damn thumbs. I think about his love of newspapers, how he likes the way the pages sound in his hands. And I admit, for the first time, that when he said that, I imagined one day we’d sit at a breakfast table together — me in my leopard-print slippers and Guy crinkling his beloved paper. That we’d be together. Away from the race and the fear of losing those we love.

A breeze blows across my face and I snap my eyes open, expecting to be falling. To be one heartbeat shy of death.

But I’m not falling.

And when I realize what I’m seeing, my whole body shakes with excitement.

It’s RX-13, flying three feet away, her wings beating the hot desert air. But then I realize I’m not quite right. And I laugh aloud again when I notice the burning green eyes.

My little Madox.

I clamp a hand over my wound, suddenly fighting to stay alive. At that exact moment, Titus slams his hand over my mouth.

“Don’t think because Green Eyes came back, you’re going to live,” Titus snarls. “Then again, maybe you will. Let’s see! Why
don’t you give him a command? Tell him to save you. And if he does, we’ll all live happily ever after.” Titus roars with laughter and presses his hand down harder. “Go ahead, tell him what you need.”

Titus doesn’t know Madox can’t understand me. That he’s
never
understood. But then again, that’s not exactly true. More than anyone, my fox has gotten me. He always knew what I needed without my saying a word. With only a thought, it seems.

Something boils deep within me. It splits me in half, mends me back together. A calm slides over my body, and for the first time in days, I think clearly. I look at Madox, and I speak directly to him — using only my mind.

Tear his eyes out.

Madox screeches and dives toward Titus’s face, talons outstretched.

Behind me, my captor screams with pain. The knife beneath my chin drops away and I twist around. Madox is beating his wings and tearing at Titus’s face. It’s like my Pandora had the same idea — to blind him — but was waiting for me to
think
the order. I wonder quickly how many other times he’s waited for orders I never gave.

After Madox swoops away, I gasp with horror. Titus’s hands cover his eyes, but I can still see the bright red blood dripping down his cheeks like wet fingers. He teeters toward the edge, and without thinking, I reach out to keep him from falling — then stop myself. But can I really let him fall? And if I do, is it me who kills him?

Titus steps closer and closer to the edge, growling in anguish like a monster. I cover my mouth as hot tears sting my eyes.
He’s going to fall.
He’s
going to fall to his death
.
Not me.

Titus’s foot hits the ledge and his arms pinwheel. He knows he’s going down. I can see it in the way his mouth forms a perfect circle.

But then he stops. Manages to right himself.

And he takes a step toward me, his arms outstretched, eyes bursting with red flesh and blood. Suddenly, I’m not afraid of him falling. I’m afraid of him
living
.

No sooner than I think this — Titus flies off the side of the ledge.

His body plummets to the earth.

Seconds later, I hear a sickening, wet thud. AK-7 stands where Titus once did, looking down over the ledge. The grizzly shoved him off. And now the creature gazes at me with fear, backing away, afraid I’m going to hurt him for what he did. But all I want to do is throw my arms around his neck.

So I do.

The animal grunts when I fall against him. His muscles tense against my embrace, but then the creature relaxes and nudges his head into my side. Seconds later, I feel a second head nudging my other side. When I turn, I see Madox dressed as a twin bear. He must think this is what I want. I laugh and hug my Pandora, overwhelmed with love for these animals who have saved me.

Pulling away, I press down on my stomach. I can’t inspect the wound again. I’m afraid I’ll faint if I do. I also know I don’t want to look at Titus’s body, but that I must. Stepping toward the side, I glance over. One look is all it takes. He’s facedown on the ground, his head turned to the side. A stream of blood flows from his open mouth and from his leg.

He’s dead.

I step back and — after suffering a wave of dizziness — nearly tumble over the side myself. Touching a sticky hand to my forehead, I realize I have to get to base camp. Titus stabbed me only minutes ago, but already I feel light-headed and weak. He must not have hit a major organ or whatever. Otherwise, I’d already be toast.

Adding to my wooziness are raw nerves. My stomach twists when I think about saving Cody. With my injury, I don’t have much choice but to seek medical attention. But I pray Guy gets to base camp soon. And that he’ll help me find a way to continue the race without having to harm a Pandora. I have to believe it isn’t over. Not when I chose to do what I believe is right.

I look at the Pandoras.
My
Pandoras.

“Can you climb down?” I ask AK-7.

Can you climb down?
I think to KD-8.

Both bears flex their paws and their mammoth nails begin to grow until they’re nearly a foot long. I’m guessing the talons can be used for climbing almost any surface.

“Of course you have Wolverine claws. Of course.” I shake my head and move away from the ledge Titus fell from. When I find a place that seems easy to descend, I nod at the bears. Then I swing my leg over the side.

What goes up

I think
.

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