Fire & Flood (19 page)

Guy guides me to the ground and we sit side by side.

“You didn’t really answer my question,” Harper says, flashing a grin.

“Jeez.” I cover my face.

“No,” Guy says. I can still feel his eyes on me. “We’re not … doing it.”

Her voice changes, humor mixing with concern. “How will it work for you two? In the end?”

“Harper,” Caroline scolds. “We may be traveling together, but we’re still allowed our privacy. Let them figure it out.”

I can’t believe this is happening. That this thing between Guy and me is public knowledge. Surely, they’ve seen the way we paired off at base camp. But maybe they thought it was a strategy thing. I guess I always figured the same. Even now Guy doesn’t say what’s on his mind. He’s only hugged me. And kissed me the once.

Uncovering my face, I meet Guy’s stare. He’s close enough so that I can feel the warmth rolling off his body. I wish he were closer. I wish his hands were still on me, his arms still wrapped around my waist. But I’m slowly growing accustomed to his sudden bursts of affection. He reaches over and runs his fingers along my feather. He narrows his eyes as he inspects it, then lets it drop against my shoulder.

“Where’d you get that thing?” Harper says, obviously still watching us. “I never asked.”

I grasp it in my palm. “I’m not sure. My mother gave it to me before I left. Said it was her mother’s.”

“Maybe her mom competed in the Brimstone Bleed.”

Even though the desert night is quickly becoming too cold for comfort, my skin flushes with heat. I’ve secretly wondered the
same thing. If my mom knew what she was doing when she gave me the feather. If she knew details about the race but told me nothing.

Except that I have her eyes.

Whatever that means.

Guy mentioned that our families may have known, but if they’d told us, there would have been consequences. I wonder about those consequences. I want to ask him, but I’m afraid he won’t say anything in front of the others, so I decide to wait until we’re alone.

“We need to find something to cover the ground,” Guy says. I realize he kind of interrupted Harper and wonder if he did it on purpose.

“What’s the plan, Stan?” Jaxon asks.

“I think we need to use these bushes.” Guy glances at the arm he was rubbing the leaf against, and seems satisfied. “They’re all over the place. Why don’t you, Dink, and I go collect them and the girls can ensure the fire stays lit.”

“Oh yeah. That’s all we’re good for,” Harper says. “Why don’t we watch the sand while we’re at it? Make sure it doesn’t blow away.”

Guy turns and looks at her, exasperated. “You want to come? You’re more than welcome.”

She looks past him and into the dark mouth of the desert and hesitates. “I’ll watch the sand.”

“Thought so.” He stands and offers Dink a hand.

“Why does Dink have to go?” Caroline asks, reaching out to the boy as Guy pulls him up.

Guy doesn’t answer for a long moment, and I can’t see what look he’s giving her. “You know,” he says, finally.

I glance at Harper, my face scrunched with confusion. She shrugs.

After they leave, I ask Caroline, “What did Guy mean? When he said,
you know
?”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head like she
doesn’t
know, but I can tell she’s lying. I add Dink to my list of things to ask Guy about tonight.

Nearly an hour later, the boys come back with armfuls of small branches and leaves. They spread them out for us. It isn’t enough to stretch out on, so we all curl up in balls. It feels like I’m sleeping on bones and needles. Overall, a pleasant experience.

“This is terrible,” Jaxon says. “I want one of those number beds old people sleep on.”

“I want my pillow-top mattress,” Caroline adds.

Olivia, who has hardly said anything today, shifts on her twig pallet. “I want a water bed. And then I want to suck every droplet out of that bastard.”

Harper and I look at each other, our eyes wide. Then we burst out laughing.

Guy sits up and opens his canteen. He takes a long pull of water and then lies back down. When he realizes we’re staring at him, he says, “It’s not like you need my permission.”

We all move at once, bolting upward and reaching for our canteens. I tip my bottle back and close my eyes against the goose bumps rolling across my skin. It’s like heaven in my mouth. Once again, I attempt to give Madox, who’s sleeping nearby, some water. He turns his head away.

I decide to treat the water I’d reserved for him as an unexpected gift and rub it over my face. The sensation is amazing, and I feel like maybe I could walk through the desert for another two hours if need be. No sooner do I think this than I feel myself lying back and my eyes closing. Harper is rattling off the keep-watch shifts, but I can barely make out what she’s saying. It’s like the words are coming from behind a wall.

I have to wake up when it’s Guy’s turn,
I tell myself. I need to ask him what else he knows about the race. And about Dink. And if he’s being generous with the convo, maybe about that sexalicious tattoo on his back.

Someone takes my hand in theirs, and though I want so badly to open my eyes and find out who it is, I tumble into sleep.

The next morning, I wake to Madox licking my face. I have to admit, with my skin feeling like crispified meat loaf, it isn’t the worst sensation in the world. Without opening my eyes, I turn my cheek and allow him access to the other side. My mind is still hazy with sleep, so I don’t think to check if someone is watching — until now.

My eyes snap open.

I find Olivia looking at me with sheer disgust dripping from her face.

I push Madox away gently and pull myself up. She’s the only one awake. I’m thankful for that, at least.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I say.

“That makes it sound so much worse,” she responds, shaking her head. Her elephant is sleeping next to her, its legs folded beneath it. It sounds like it’s snoring.

I glance down at Madox, whose body is writhing with excitement. He’s thrilled that I’m awake, and I love him so much for that, it nearly hurts. Looking back at Olivia, I try again.

“I was half asleep,” I say. “I would never make him —”

Olivia smiles, and I realize she’s messing with me. “Sorry, I got bored keeping watch all alone. Humiliating you is the most fun I’ve had all morning.”

I breathe out and kind of half laugh. “I thought you were serious.”

“Nope.”

I survey our campsite and spot Jaxon spread out on his twig bed. His left hand twitches. “I would’ve thought Harper would assign you two to keep watch together.”

“She did.”

“Oh.” I fight the urge to smile, but lose the battle. The corner of my mouth tugs upward and Olivia matches the gesture.

“You’re all right, Tella.” Olivia stands up and walks over to Jaxon. As she nears him, I think about what a grown-up thing that is to say.
You’re all right.
The chubby girl squats down and gets close to Jaxon’s ear. She fills her lungs, opens her mouth, and yells, “Heeeeeey, Jaxon.”

He doesn’t move.

Olivia looks at me. “I think he’s dead.”

“I assure you, I’m not,” Jaxon mumbles.

The girl smiles and slaps him on the back. “Up and at ’em.”

Jaxon lies still, but the rest of the Contenders begin dusting themselves off and putting their clothes back on. When Guy glances at me, I silently kick myself for sleeping through my shift. I know Harper must have assigned us to keep watch together, and I know he didn’t wake me — as usual. I had so many questions to ask. Questions that’ll have to wait another day.

When Guy takes a pull on his canteen, we all do the same. There’s hardly any water left in my chrome bottle, and I assume from the concerned looks on the other Contenders’ faces that I’m not alone in this predicament.

“We should keep heading east,” Guy says. His voice is rough from sleep, and I have a strange urge to lay a kiss on his throat. “Harper, you want to continue leading?”

Harper avoids his gaze and instead stares at her Pandora, who’s flapping the dust from her wings. She couldn’t send a clearer sign; she’s too tired from yesterday to lead today.

“No, I want to lead,” I say. “It’s my turn.” As soon as I speak the
words, I regret them. My skin is raw and blistering, and my legs are sore from trudging through the sand. I’d actually rather pour the remaining water from my canteen into the wind than lead this group. But I don’t want Harper to be embarrassed.

Harper shrugs. “Fine. Whatever.”

Before we head out, RX-13 and Jaxon’s Pandora, Z-54, hunt for food. They return with bitter green fruit and we force it down. Guy says it’s good they found this, that the fruit is mostly water and will help quench our thirst. I seriously doubt that.

Just as it did yesterday, the sun beats down with a vengeance. It’s like it has a personal vendetta against human beings and wants nothing more than to fry our asses like bacon. Which I could totally go for about now. And pancakes. Powdered sugar, blueberries, syrup — the works. Ugh. My skin feels like it’s on fire, and every breath I take burns my throat. The Pandoras hike alongside us, and I can tell that even though they were designed for this race, they’re struggling in these conditions.

Z-54, the sleek-bodied cheetah, strides along in front of me. The design of his body allows him an ease of movement the rest of us don’t have. Every so often, it’s like the animal catches himself and slows to match our pace. And each time he turns his head, I see his mouth hanging open, panting in the sweltering sun. I follow his paw marks in the sand, leading our group across the desert dunes, thankful for the guide.

After three hours of hiking, I hear something drop behind me. Turning around, I notice Dink slumped into the sand. All of our faces are coated in sweat and grit. But his looks different, almost swollen. “He needs water,” Caroline says, flustered. She pulls the canteen from across his shoulders and opens it. Holding the bottle to his lips, she tips it upward. He doesn’t react, and I soon learn why.

There’s nothing left inside.

“Oh my God. I knew this would happen.” Caroline looks at me — brow furrowed — as if I have the answers. “How are we supposed to survive out here?”

Olivia drops down and covers her face, like she’s been fighting the urge all morning. I glance at Guy, who looks every bit as concerned as Caroline does. I give him a look that says,
What are we going to do?

He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. “We need to find a body of water.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jaxon says, kneeling to rub Olivia’s back. “But that doesn’t exist in the desert.”

“Actually, in many deserts, it does.” Guy massages the back of his neck. “Some deserts have streams running through them, and others lie adjacent to oceans or snow-capped mountains.”

“But an ocean won’t help us,” Harper says.

“No.” Guy looks at me. “But a stream or snow will.”

I can’t fathom being anywhere near snow. It doesn’t seem possible. Jaxon stands and squints up at the sky. “Maybe we should travel at night,” he says. “It wouldn’t be as hot.”

It seems like a brilliant plan, but Guy shakes his head. “That’s what’s easiest, so it’s what other Contenders will do. We need to travel during the day if we want to circumvent … conflict. Also, too many predators come out at night. We won’t be able to avoid them if we can’t see.”

Jaxon’s face drops with defeat. “Then what are we going to do? We’ll die in this heat, or we’ll die from predators. How do these pricks expect us to live?”

“Guys,” Caroline says, her voice cracking. “We have to give Dink our water or he’s not going to —” She stops and weeps into her hands. Her back convulses, but when she pulls her palms away, they’re dry. We can’t even cry anymore, we’re so dehydrated.

Olivia flops onto her back and squeezes her eyes shut. “I finished my water, too,” she says in almost a whisper. “And I don’t think I can survive this day without more.”

Olivia’s Pandora — which she told me this morning is named EV-0 — startles like it heard and understood her. In a flash, the elephant stomps away from Olivia and rears its head back. The Pandora raises its trunk into the air and then drives it into the sand. Madox barks and jumps in circles as the elephant blows through its trunk and sand showers the air. The Pandora blows again and again, and more and more sand sprays up, creating a cloud of yellow.