Break The Ice (12 page)

“Hi there. Find everything alright?”

“Yes, thank you.” I place the shirt on the table, and she scans it in.

Her brow creases. “Damn computer.” She scans it three more times before she slaps the monitor. “That’s what I thought. It’s three fourteen.”

I slide my wallet out and check inside. To my surprise, there’s cash. Two ones left over from Ted and an extra I forgot about. I pull the bills out and dig around the corners for anything else. And, of course, I find nothing. I close my eyes and accidentally groan out loud.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll find fourteen cents laying around.”

“You’re awesome,” I say, blushing a little.

“You look like you could use a break. Had a rough day? Or a few,” she says.

I rub my palm across the blood on my shirt. Not as much as I thought. The amount of sweat I’ve accumulated since buying the shirt three days ago has collected in various circles around my chest. “A few,” I say, faking a smile.

She pops the sensor off the tag and hands me the shirt. “Take better care of this one.”

I nod and head straight for the changing room, eager to throw away the mess I’m wearing. It sticks to my skin when I pull it off. The new shirt fits snug but comfortable. Clean for the first time in days, an oddly foreign feeling.

Outside the changing room is a tall mirror, the only one I’ve seen in the store. I look at my reflection and grimace. The shirt makes my neck seem twice as long as usual. I should have picked something with a collar.

“That’s really nice.”

I look next to my reflection. Kaitlyn’s face pokes over my shoulder. She’s standing behind me, on her toes, trying to see the mirror. She has on a yellow and orange sun dress that stops below her knees.

Say something, Sam. Don’t just stare at her. Anything will work. “Isn’t this the men’s changing room?” Anything but that.

She rolls her eyes. “Nobody else is here.”

“What happened to the jeans?” I say, trying to cover up my embarrassment.

“You think that’d work better? I saw this hanging up and couldn’t resist.” She turns back to her dressing room, two doors down from mine.

“It’s great,” I say a little too late.

She’s already back inside the room, door closed. Her feet step around the sandals she’s been wearing since Orange Cone. In the blink of an eye, the yellow dress falls to the floor, covering the sandals.

My body goes rigid. I have to leave. Or at least turn around. If anybody walks in and sees me staring at a dressing room, it will be worse than any fight against the Sunjin. I turn my back to the door but don’t make it a single step before Kaitlyn says my name.

“Sam? You still out there?”

“Uhh, yeah.”

“Do you see the shirt hanging on that green bin? I left it out there.”

I walk over to the large, green dumpster-like bin. More clothes are piled up inside than I own. Hanging from the side is a yellow tank top. “I see it.”

“Well can you grab it for me?” She laughs behind the closed door.

Shirt in hand, I approach the changing room. Unlike every other one ever built, these don’t have any room above the door. It’s either go under or open the door.

“What are you doing? I can see your feet. Toss it underneath.”

I have to get on a knee in order to bend far enough down.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you something you won’t share with the others?”

My throat tightens a little. I cough to loosen it up. “Of course.”

“I don’t trust Dan. I don’t know why, there’s something about him that I don’t like.”

“The others seem to like him a lot,” I say.

The door opens, and she stands in front of me, dress slung over her arm, wearing the yellow tank top and a pair of jean shorts. “Exactly. The way they’re acting seems stupid. Nobody is that charismatic without some sort of secret.”

I pull my eyes away from her neckline. It’s much tanner than I first realized. How much time does she spend outside? “I’ll…keep my eyes open,” I say, distracted.

“I know, that’s why I told you.” She stands in front of the mirror one more time. “Much more practical than a dress.” Turning to the side, she looks at the mirror from top to bottom. “Not as fun, but oh well. Let’s go find the others.”

Mel and Ted stand by the register I checked out at. In front of them, Dan talks to the cashier. “Ah, here they come. Toss whatever you’re getting on the pile, it’s on me.”

“I can pay for my own clothes,” Kaitlyn says. I nudge her elbow and she adds, “But thanks.”

Dan’s smile doesn’t waver. “I insist, really.”

“Come on, Kait,” Ted says. “Let the guy help out. After all, we’re currently freelancing, and I doubt Sam plans to pay us.”

Kaitlyn sighs and rips the price tags off her clothes. She hands them to Dan who has a hard time pulling them from her grip.

Dan looks over her shoulder at me. “What about you?”

“I already paid. Thanks though.”

I follow Kaitlyn out of the store. Before we hit the exit, the others fall in behind us. They talk to each other, but I don’t pay attention to the conversation. We’re out the door and halfway down the block when I catch up to Kaitlyn’s side. “Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “The bus station? Can you think of a better way to get to Salt Lake?”

I can’t. “Not short of walking there ourselves, but we don’t have that kind of time.”

“What’s the rush?” Dan says from the back.

“We were supposed to be there by two today. If we don’t get there fast, I’m worried the others will leave.”

“Where are they going to go?” Mel says. “It’s not like they’re going to join the other side if you’re late.”

“Why take the risk?” I say. Leaning towards Kaitlyn, I say, “Think we can find it by sheer luck?”

She flashes me her phone. “We’re only two blocks away.”

I tune the others out during the next ten minutes of walking. Ted keeps bringing up weird topics he couldn’t possibly care about. The comments about politics I handled, but when he mentioned hair products, I had to stop listening.

“There it is,” Kaitlyn says, pointing to a tiny bench.

“Are you sure?” Ted says. “It doesn’t look like much.”

“Read the sign,” she says.

UTA–Utah Transit Authority. The small picture of a bus helps.

“We don’t even know when it’ll arrive,” Ted says.

“I have the schedule on my phone,” Kaitlyn says. “They pick up at this spot every thirty minutes.”

I sit on the curb, letting Kaitlyn and Mel take the bench. Ted squeezes on the edge while Dan stands next to him. Ted taps his foot on the ground for ten straight minutes before saying, “This is turning into a horribly boring trip.”

Absent mindedly, my hand rubs the spot on my arm where the Sunjin burned it. I still can’t figure out why it didn’t leave any welts. “Speak for yourself,” I finally say.

As if our words triggered some cosmic alarm, a blue SUV races past us. Three police cruisers follow close, their lights spinning but sirens disabled. The SUV turns right, sliding across the intersection and slamming into the traffic light.

The cruisers stop ten feet from the SUV. Two officers slide out of each, shielding themselves with the door but aiming their weapons through open windows.

I’m on my feet, trying to get a better look at what’s happening, when a truck flies down the road. The driver slams on the brakes in front of us, tires screeching to a halt. Its front end nudges the farthest back cruiser, but the cops don’t pay it any attention.

“What’s happening up there?” A family of three approaches the bus stop. The father holds his little girl’s hand. She’s blowing bubbles with a small plastic wand.

“Not sure,” I say. “Can’t really see anything.”

Still stopped behind the cops, the black truck’s reverse lights blink on. It pulls back and stops five feet from the curb. All four doors pop open and two men jump out from the front seats. One heads straight for the family, the other towards me.

Back under the traffic light, the SUV’s engine grinds. It sputters to a stop three times before roaring to life. The front tires spin against the sidewalk, sending smoke streams spiraling into the sky. Whoever drives the SUV rocks the thing back and forth until the tires gain some traction. A high pitched squeal carries them around the corner.

The cops yell to one another before jumping in their cruisers and chasing after it. They don’t even glance at the truck that hit one of their cars.

I’m paying attention to the pursuit when the man from the pickup truck steps past me. He reaches for Kaitlyn, forcing a scream out of her. Snapping out of my trance, I spin around.

Kaitlyn takes a step back and bumps into the bench. Instead of moving around it, she steps forward and jabs with her right hand. Her clenched fist hits the man’s throat, stopping him in his tracks.

I step forward and wrap my arm under his chest, pushing upwards. His feet lift off the ground and I drive him two feet back. Even though his eyes hide behind a pair of sunglasses, an unusual warmth burns through his shirt. Sunjin.

He takes another step forward, but I block his path to the others. I have at least eight inches on the guy, and he knows it. He stops moving and looks to the side, smirking.

Following his eye line, I spot the second man waving a gun at the family. He’s ushering them to the truck.

Dan blocks the way, but he keeps backing up, edging closer to the open door. Whenever he steps forward, the gunman points his pistol at the little girl.

The guy in front of me runs to the side, away from me but straight at Dan’s blind spot. He grabs hold and tosses him into the open door. Together, the two men herd the family inside and slam the door.

Not sure how to respond, I run after the truck. My fingers graze the truck bed, but I can’t get a grip. The front doors slam shut but the truck is already moving. It speeds off after the cops.

I’m left standing in the road, staring after it, unable to move. A horn blares behind me, and I jump forward. A large, gray bus approaches. Kaitlyn has to run out into the street and grab my hand, pulling me back to the sidewalk.

“On the bus,” she says. “Everybody, get on the bus.”

“What about–” Ted starts, but Kaitlyn pushes him through the open door.

“No time, get on that bus.”

I look back at the traffic light one more time, trying to remember every detail about the men who might kill Dan.

My mind races through everything that took place. SUV. Cops. Truck. Kidnapping. I run through the entire scenario a dozen times before the bus even shifts into drive. There has to be an explanation, a clue about why two Sunjin abducted Dan and that family. I can’t find anything.

“We have to call the police,” Mel says. “If we’re not going after him, we have to call somebody.”

“And tell them what?” Kaitlyn says. She’s sitting in the back seat beside me, leaning into the aisle. She kneads her temples with one knuckle at first, then two.

“I don’t know,” Mel says a little too loud. She takes a deep breath before whispering, “We can’t let someone who believed our story get killed though.”

“Or that innocent bystanding family,” Ted says.

Kaitlyn looks at Mel. “Nobody said anything about getting killed. They went out of their way to grab him. It must be for a reason.”

“Or they were lunatics going after anybody they could grab,” Ted says.

Nobody talks for a few seconds. They’re all staring at me. “What? I have no idea what just happened. Or why. The only thing I know is that we need to get to Salt Lake. Soon.”

“That’s all you can think about right now?” Mel says.

If two Sunjin took Dan, the best way to get him back would still be neutralizing the threat. “The faster we get there, the faster we take out the Sunjin. If we miss this chance, the Sunjin will win.” The words sound harsh as I speak them, but I need to finish what Tinjo gave me. For mom, and now for Dan.

“Well I don’t want any part of it.” Mel tries to get out of her seat, but Ted stops her.

“What do you expect to do?” he says. “Get off the bus and run out into the street, shouting his name?”

“No, I’m going to find the closest police station and file an abduction sighting like a normal person.”

Ted looks at me, then at Kaitlyn. His stare lingers on her for a few extra seconds before he says, “Not alone you’re not.” He hits the button marked
Press to Stop
. Seconds later, the driver pulls off to the side.

Mel steps over Ted and hurries up the aisle.

“Keep your phone on,” Ted says. “I’ll call when we find something and we’ll meet up later.” He jumps out of his seat and runs to catch up with Mel. Once he reaches her, they walk away together, not even looking back as the bus pulls away.

“We have to stop them,” I say.

“We only have a few hours to make it forty miles. We don’t have time to go back,” Kaitlyn says.

I tear my eyes away from the window to face her. “You want to leave them?”

“I want to prevent any more towns from being destroyed. In order to do that, we need to stick with Tinjo’s plan. Remember?” She sinks back into her seat.

I can tell it’s eating her up inside, but I’m the one who brought that up a minute ago. She’s only keeping me on track. “Yeah,” I say. “I remember.”

The bus rumbles beneath me before I open my eyes. It’s steady. Soothing. There’s a gentle pressure against my shoulder. I try to look without turning my head too far. Kaitlyn fell asleep, her head leaning on me. I want to lift my hand and rub my tired eyes, but something holds me back. Her fingers interlace with mine.

I can’t help but grin. I check outside the window. Buildings have replaced the trees, mostly storefronts and shops. That’s a good sign. If we’re not in the city, we ought to be close.

The bus runs over a deep pothole, throwing us forward. I extend both hands, stopping myself and Kaitlyn before we smack our heads on the next seat. She jolts awake and pulls her hand away from me to steady herself. After a second, when she notices where she’s been laying her head, she wipes off my shoulder. “Sorry,” she says. “I drool sometimes.”

Don’t be. I don’t mind. Smile. “It’s okay.” Now I want to slam my head into the seat.

“Are we in Salt Lake yet?”

I flash her a confused glance. “What?”

“I asked the driver when you fell asleep. This is one of the buses that make the drive up there daily.”

A loud crackling breaks through the intercom above us. “Last stop, Salt Lake City.”

“Lucky us,” I say.

“It’s about time we found some.” She gets to her feet, waiting for me to step into the aisle.

I let her out first, pausing at the very front while she steps off. “Can you tell me where the train station is?” I say to the driver before following.

He finishes a sip of coffee and points out the windshield. “Two blocks up, two blocks over. Keep an eye out for the sign.”

“Thanks.” I hurry down the stairs after Kaitlyn.

She’s standing on the sidewalk, gazing up at the buildings. Her feet move with a subtle agility, spinning her around so that she can take in the entire panoramic scene. After half a dozen rotations, she stops, grabbing my shoulder for balance, and laughing.

“Not used to the city?” I say.

“Never been to one. Lake Shore born, raised, and probably would have died if you hadn’t pulled me out for this suicide mission.”

“I’m jealous,” I say, accidentally out loud. To cover it up, I add, “Too many people for my taste.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she says, nudging my side. “Where are we going now?”

“I figured we’d try the train station first. That’s where we’d have gotten off originally, so there might be some hints.”

She checks the time on her phone. “We’re only a half hour late. Everyone should still be there.”

“Are there any messages from the others?” I say.

She shakes her head. “Nothing yet. You worried?”

“Aren’t you? We left them in a random town without anything.”

“I’m sure if they were in trouble, they’d call. My battery still has seventy percent. Nothing to worry about.”

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, mind racing. Kaitlyn’s soft hand squeezes mine. Like magic, a sense of ease courses through me. “Alright,” I say. I open my eyes, and she’s staring up at me. “Alright. I’m okay. Let’s go find our army.”

“He said two up and two over, right?” Kaitlyn says.

I nod, staring into the crowd in front of us. “That’s what he told me.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I can’t tell.” Even though I tower over the crowd, I can’t see around the apartment complex.

“Put me on your shoulders. I’ll be able to get a better view.”

“What? Why don’t we push through the crowd?”

She scrunches her face. “You’re no fun.”

I don’t want to tell her I’ve never had someone stand on my shoulders before, that I don’t want my knees to give out or anything else embarrassing. “Stay close behind me.” I push through the crowd, muttering apologies along the way. “Excuse me. Sorry. Ouch, sorry.” Halfway through, the scene opens up. Fire trucks line the street, police cruisers form a barricade.

“What do you see?” Kaitlyn says.

“Ambulances. Two of them. No, more.” Five. Six…and that’s as far as I can see.

“What do you think happened?” she says.

A middle aged woman blocking my path turns around. She looks at Kaitlyn and me before saying, “Someone burned down the rec center. With people still inside.”

“A lot of people,” a man next to her adds.

“Thanks,” I say. Grabbing Kaitlyn’s hand, I pull her with me, fighting against the crowd in order to reach the side. It thins out the closer we get until I pop out onto a sidewalk.

“You don’t think…?” she says.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“The train station is right over there.” She points with her free hand.

Realizing I’m still holding onto her other one, I let go. She doesn’t say anything about it. “It’d make sense for us to go straight there. Do you still have your ticket?”

She shakes her head.

“Neither do I.”

“How can we find out?”

There’s only one way I can think of. I don’t like it, but without any guidance from Tinjo, we’re on our own to find the people he provided. “We’ll have to go inside.”

Kaitlyn doesn’t flinch. She expected me to say that. “Any ideas to get around the police?”

“They won’t appreciate us walking past them.”

“And we’re not dressed to pretend we belong.”

Behind Kaitlyn, a small alley separates two houses. It extends for about thirty feet before a metal gate stops it. There’s a dumpster behind the gate.

“Follow me,” I say.

The opening is smaller than I expected. I barely fit through without turning to the side. Past the gate, there’s a place to turn. If we’re lucky, the branching alley might lead us right next to the rec center.

“How are we going to get over the fence?” Kaitlyn says.

There’s only one thing we can do with so little space to move around. I squat down, bracing myself against both brick walls beside me. “You’re first,” I say.

“I knew you’d like that idea sooner or later,” she says.

I’m not sure what she’s going to do next. I’m waiting for one leg at a time, but the logistics confuse me. How’s she going to get the second one up without falling backwards?

“Ready?” she says.

I doubt it. Holding onto the gate, I say, “Go ahead.”

She counts to three before her foot slips and she crashes onto my shoulders.

My fingers grip tight, and I pull forward. To keep her from falling off, or myself from collapsing, my legs push up with all their might. It’s harder than I thought it’d be, but after a few unsteady seconds, I’m standing up straight.

“I wedged myself between the walls. Lowering down didn’t work so well. Good recovery, though.”

I laugh, but it comes out shaky and out of breath. Her bare legs are sticking to my neck and making it hard to concentrate. “I didn’t think much further into this plan,” I say.

“Get me closer to the fence,” she says. “I can hop over.”

The fence shakes in front of me as Kaitlyn grabs hold and digs her feet into the tiny metal rings. She grunts and throws herself from my shoulders. Right in front of my face, she slams onto the dumpster lid. Her face is inches from mine, her breath tickling my nose.

“That works, I guess,” she says. She jumps off the dumpster and into the alley. “Now you.”

I use her original strategy and shimmy myself higher and higher. The first foot is easy, but with each increasing inch I get nervous. If I fall, I’m going to break something.

“Come straight forward, you’re over the fence,” Kaitlyn says.

“Thanks,” I say through gritted teeth.

I lean my entire body to one side so that my opposite leg can move out. In this fashion, I waddle over the fence and drop onto the dumpster. My hands are bright red from where the bricks dug into them. I try to hide it, but my arms won’t stop shaking.

“You did have a plan after we got over that, right?” she says.

There’s no way I can squeeze past her, so I point over her shoulder to where the alley opens up. “We can get to the center from over there.”

Kaitlyn backs up and pokes her head around the corner. “It’s a straight shot, but we’ll still have to cross the street somehow.”

We work our way to the edge and look out, her ducking down and me at the top.

Three cops stand fewer than fifteen feet away, their backs to us. Between the noise from the crowd and their radio chatter, no intelligible words make it across the short distance.

“See how the ambulances line up across the street?”

“Use them for cover,” Kaitlyn says.

“Go when the cops look away. Okay, on three. One. Two…”

Kaitlyn makes it halfway to the first ambulance before I say three. The cops haven’t moved, so I run after her. My footsteps echo between the two parallel trucks, but it may be my heart beating in my ears. Nobody yells for us to stop, so we make a break for the closest fire truck.

Once I’m next to the driver’s window, somebody talks inside the truck. They receive feedback on their radio before somebody answers them. The door opens, and I drop to the ground, rolling under the truck. I search the small sliver of space for Kaitlyn’s feet. She ran around the front and, when I roll out from the opposite side, she stands there to help me up.

Forty feet from the building and there’s no cover anywhere in between. Mail drop off box. Glass newspaper dispenser. A few street lamps scattered along the street.

“Any ideas?” I say.

Kaitlyn studies the layout, her eyes flicking back and forth from one end of the street to the other. “We need a distraction,” she says.

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to think clearly. Bringing them back down, I bump my elbow against the truck. Instead of metal, I hit rubber. Fire hose. Without any warning, I grab the hose and feed it under the truck, hoping it doesn’t pop out the opposite side. After a few feet, I look at Kaitlyn.

“Remember Soul Cavern?” I say.

“We’ll have to be fast.”

“Think you can do it?”