Akasha 4 - Earth (31 page)

"Shawn could be there," Micah said,
laying his hand on my arm. "Let me go."

"No. They know me there – besides, who
do you think is more recognizable. You or me?" I smiled, pulling on
the strings to tighten his hood.

He didn't respond. I think he was
still too tired to argue. One Less headquarters had set up shop in
what used to be a deli on the ground floor of a thirty-floor
building. It was inconspicuous, other than the large blankets
covering the windows, but it made me wonder if Shawn stayed in one
of the offices above it. I would have if I were running the
show.

Micah and I knelt behind a planter,
surveying those coming and going. Every time the door opened, we
scanned the inside.

"I think it's clear…" I said, standing
up from my crouch.

"Wait – we need to be
sure."

"We don't have all day; we've already
lost enough time," I snapped back at him.

He turned his gaze to me and my cheeks
heated.

"Sorry," I mumbled. He was right, I
couldn't go charging in there and chance Shawn. There had to be
another way.

It hit me. "Duh." I smacked my palm
into my forehead. I closed my eyes, tapping into the atmosphere and
the electrical signals around me. I waded through the information,
eliminating the plants we hid behind, then the stray cats stalking
the gardens. I ignored the low, steady buzz the earth beneath us
gave off and focused in on the Elementals walking
around.

"What are you doing?" asked
Micah.

"Shh," I barely responded. This had
been so much easier without him next to me, giving off his own,
distinct signal.

Inside, I counted them out. Plenty of
Fires, Shawn was always big on the Fires. No Earths; they would all
be in the gardens. Three Waters, two Airs…

"And a partridge in a pear tree." I
opened my eyes to find Micah looking at me, one eyebrow
raised.

"He's in there," I said. "Three floors
up and moving."

"How do you know?"

"New trick. He gives off a signal
similar to yours."

Micah didn't ask any more
questions.

"Look – why don't you find Clay? I
might need his help," I told him.

Micah shook his head. "I'm staying
with you."

I sighed. "I'll blend in with that
work group until I see Shawn leave. I'll be fine."

He continued to stare me down. His eye
tricks had little effect on me anymore. I turned and walked toward
a group chopping up furniture for the fires. I picked up an axe,
glancing at the sweaty men and women swinging their sharp blades at
a large couch.

I turned toward a lone armchair.
Sunlight glinted off my axe, and at an angle, I could see Micah's
reflection. He still stood where I left him.

I grimaced, readjusted my grip on the
handle, and raised the axe. I pulled, using my hips to drive it
down. It went straight through the seat, hitting the cold asphalt
below. I smiled. This was going to be therapeutic. I pulled my
blade out of the punctured fabric, metal, and wood, glancing behind
my shoulder. Micah was no longer there.

Now I can
concentrate.

I closed my eyes, reaching out for
Shawn again. He was in between the second and third floors,
descending. I swung the axe again, aiming at an arm. The axe didn't
go all the way through this time, but the footrest popped out,
startling me. I jumped back, laughing.

Shawn was on the second
floor.

I swung again, blade swiveling on a
level, horizontal plane. The top half of the backrest toppled to
the ground. I bounced it off the top of my toes, then kicked it
away.

Shawn was close to the ground floor.
Time to blend in.

The backrest landed at the feet of a
group of people; all of whom were staring at me. Shawn was on the
ground floor now, walking toward the door.

Shit.

I shrugged. "It's just…it's fun." I
decided to go with the truth.

There were a few smiles and a few eye
rolls but everyone turned back to their work.

I ducked behind what was left of my
armchair, feigning an untied boot just as David walked out. I
peered out from the faux-leather seat. Shawn walked into the
sunlight, shielding his eyes. The hand he held up was heavily
bandaged. My eyes flit down to his other bandaged hand, then over
to the sheathed Athame hanging from his belt.

He stopped to monitor the plants
growing from the beds in front of the building. Then he said
something to David and walked off. David almost tripped trying to
keep up, writing all along in that notebook.

Once they rounded the corner, I stood,
tapping my lower lip.

I took in a deep breath, and let it
out slow. I walked around the armchair and sat, propping my feet up
on the extended footrest. People were looking at me again but I
didn't care. I sank into the chair, head falling back with nothing
to catch it. Today, the sun was spectacular.

* * *

"Clay," Micah hissed.

The shorter man didn’t
turn.

Micah raised his voice,
"Clay!"

Clay looked, his beard catching on the
barbed wire he was unraveling. "Dag nabbit!"

Micah waited patiently for
Clay to untangle himself. Micah squinted.
Is that hair…coming out of his ears?

Clay stood. "Not safe to talk here –
let's go get some lunch."

"No time to eat."

"Hmpf," Clay guffawed. "There is
always time to—"

"Kait—" Micah cleared his
throat. "
Lucy
is
back at camp."

"Is the girl crazy?"

Micah's step faltered. "In the literal
sense – yes. I think she’s headed that way."

"Well, nothing beats crazy." Clay
gestured to a group of One Less. "Like more crazy."

Micah furrowed his eyebrow.

"What I mean to say," Clay continued,
"is what I've witnessed being with One Less the past couple of
years – well, it's just gonna take a madman to take them down."
Clay lowered his voice, "Or a madwoman."

Micah put his hand on Clay's shoulder.
"I know it's been rough, but you've been invaluable for us. Thanks
for sticking with it."

They turned off the mall toward the
headquarters building.

"Don't thank me 'til it's over," Clay
said. "Let's just hope you guys have a plan."

"We do…" Micah trailed off and the men
stopped walking.

There, off to the side of a working
party was Kaitlyn, sprawled out in a beat up armchair. Her arms
behind her head, eyes closed, in plain view of headquarters – not
to mention the entire street.

"Is that part of the plan?" Clay
asked, arms crossed.

Micah didn't answer. He walked toward
Kaitlyn, his shadow falling over her, blocking out the
sun.

She opened one eye, looking up at him
– then over at Clay.

"What are you doing?" Micah
asked.

"Working party," Kaitlyn answered,
closing her eyes again.

The group nearby was disassembling a
couch with their axes. They were glancing her way, whispering.
Micah was positive he heard the phrase 'wild dog'.

If Kaitlyn is going to
develop eccentric characteristics – fine. Time to put them to good
use.

"Come on, then. I have an idea." Micah
held out his hand.

Kaitlyn stretched, yawned, and sat up.
She picked up the axe leaning against the armchair and slammed the
handle inside a gaping hole. The footrest snapped back into place.
Kaitlyn stood, swinging the axe to rest on her shoulder.

As the trio walked away, someone from
the working party – a tall male – stepped forward and cleared his
throat. "Excuse me, miss."

Kaitlyn paused.

Micah looked at her out of the corner
of his eye. Her lips were moving, counting to three. Micah smiled –
if there was anything Kaitlyn could do well, it was
drama.

She finally turned, staring down the
man.

He flinched and took a step back. "You
know – that’s ok. Keep it."

Kaitlyn nodded once and left the area.
"What?" she asked Clay as soon as they were out of earshot of the
working group. "I like the axe."

He snorted, "Your wrist is
bleeding."

Kaitlyn looked down at the seeping
bandages. "Totally worth it."

"So what's the plan?" Clay
asked.

"We've gotta shake things up a bit—"
Kaitlyn started.

"
After
we get new bandages," Micah
interrupted.

"Okay." Kaitlyn winked up at him.
"First aid first – then the show."

* * *

Sue, the town healer, unwrapped my
bandaged wrist and asked, "How long ago did this
happen?"

"Um, maybe a week."

"Your wrist isn't healing nearly as
quickly as it should be." Sue got up from her seat at the table and
began running her finger over the line of jars behind her. Clay and
Micah stood behind me, patiently waiting.

I glanced at Clay, and whispered, "Why
didn't we go to the One Less medics?"

Clay mouthed a word.

I rolled my eyes. "I can't read lips
through all that hair."

He cleared his throat, leaned in, and
hissed in my ear, "Shawn."

"Oh…" I glanced at Micah for
confirmation. Micah held up one hand, pointing to his palm.
Right. Shawn must've been getting treatments for his
hands.

Outside the camp, Sue had taken up
residence in a small coffee shop on the mall. The hand-painted sign
out front read, 'Alternative Medicine'.

I narrowed my eyes at the lady, still
scanning her shelves. Thanks to Shawn, I was stuck with her and her
jars, and her—

A fat, white feline jumped on the
table.

"Cat!" I jumped back.

Two heavy hands gripped my shoulders,
holding me in place. Micah and Clay pushed me forward, back to the
table.

"Geez," I huffed, pushing hair out of
my face. "I'm not going to bolt."

"Hmm," mumbled Clay.

Suddenly I felt
claustrophobic.

The cat turned to me, blinked once,
then jumped off the table. She made herself comfortable on top of a
stack of books in the corner.

"Abby likes you," Sue said, sitting
back down at the table across from me and placing a jar filled with
reddish-orange flowers, soaking in a liquid, in between
us.

I read the label out loud, "Calendula.
What is that?"

"Marigolds in olive oil. One of my
most effective home remedies. It's an anti-inflammatory, and an
antiviral. Helps with cuts, scrapes, chapped or
chafed skin…"

She drifted off as her cat meowed at
her. "Ok, ok." She smiled at me. "Abby is telling me to shut
up."

Sue unscrewed the lid and dipped a
thick cloth into the jar. She spread the healing ointment across my
wounds while my eyes scanned some of her other jars. White willow,
cayenne, rosemary, plus an entire shelf of peppermint.

"Do many people come to see you?" I
asked.

She shook her head. "Not yet, though
as the manufactured medicine runs out, there'll be more and more."
She made one last pat on my wrist with her herb-infused rag and
said, "There. Now – do you want me to take a look at this?" She
turned over my hand, displaying a burned palm. "I've got an aloe
plant."

"No thanks." That wound was at least
healing faster than the scar at my shoulder.

She rewrapped my wrist. "Well, at
least take a leaf with you – in case it gets worse. Or if it
happens again." She winked at me, then walked over to a potted
plant behind Micah. Snipping off one of the thick, fleshy leaves,
she wrapped it in bandages, too.

She stood to hand it to me, but
hesitated. Instead she turned to Micah and said, "A few drops of
the oil a couple times a day should do it."

I huffed, sinking down in my seat and
crossing my arms.

The door to the shop swung open. "Sue!
We've got more burns. Bad ones! Some kid passed out over a cooking
fire."

Sue brushed past me, the entire aloe
vera plant already in one arm. She stopped to scoop up her cat in
the other arm. As she bustled out the door, the cat turned to meow
at me once before they disappeared.

"Look, here." Clay walked toward a
barrel full of rolled maps and pulled one out, unfurling it on the
table in front of me.

"That's not ours – maybe we shouldn't
be messing with it." I kept my hands off, lest someone fingerprint
the crime.

Clay made a pointed glance at the axe
leaning against my side.

"They said I could keep it," my
argument was not very compelling. I cleared my throat and pointed
to the map in front of me. "Why do we need a map of the
world?"