Fractured Light (24 page)

“Full of something,” I agreed.

He laughed. “Maybe you should join the football game over there, burn off whatever you’re full of.”

I glanced toward the lake. Several cars were parked in a big circle with their lights turned on, facing the center. The dark silhouettes of students moved within the light as they played with a glow-in-the-dark football.

“Go join them, Llona,” Mr. Steele said. He was suddenly standing right behind me. I jumped. “They could use someone with your skills.”

I turned around. “My skills?”

“I’ve watched you play basketball. You’re very good.”

My face reddened. Gratefully my back was turned to the fire so he didn’t notice.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Christian walking toward us. To avoid another lecture, I quickly said, “Thanks, Mr. Steele. I think I will.” I hurried away, glancing back a few times to make sure Christian wasn’t following me.

I walked between two parked trucks, and just before I had the chance to ask if I could join the game, Mike called, “If you’re thinking of playing, don’t. We already have enough players.”

Adam moved out of a headlight next to me. “We could use one.”

“Yeah,” May added. “You can be on our team, the winning team.”

“Whatever. You’re winning streak is over.” Mike tossed the ball to a teammate across the field.

Even though car headlights were turned on, the darkness swallowed most of their light before it could make an impact on the game. Playing football in the dark was like nothing I’d ever done before. It gave me the ability to hide much of my speed and agility. This turned out to be very important, especially because I was playing against Mike and loved showing him up. He was the quarterback for the other team, and it was just too easy to intercept almost every throw he tossed. His frustration was my elation. By my sixth pick, he became so upset he turned and tossed the football as hard as he could toward the lake. It landed on the ice and continued to slide away from us.

“Way to go, Mike!” someone yelled.

“Anyone bring another ball?” another asked.

I squinted my eyes into the darkness. The ball wasn’t too far away. I could see it’s glow partially concealed by a chunk of ice.

Behind me, another person said. “That’s all we had.”

“Nice, Mike. Way to ruin the game.”

I turned to the group and said, “I’ll get it.”

“I don’t think it’s safe,” May said.

“Of course it is,” Mike blurted. “The ice is frozen over. Let her get it.”

“If it’s so safe, why don’t you get it?” May snapped.

“Llona thinks she’s all that. She can do it.”

“I got it,” I called and jogged to the edge of the lake.

I carefully stepped onto the ice. It groaned once but held. I stomped hard just to be sure. It remained solid. I proceeded slowly, but after several steps and no more creaks or groans, I became more confident and ended up running and then sliding several times toward the ball. Laughter erupted behind me. In a matter of seconds, I reached the ball. “Got it!”

I moved to take a step when I heard the sound of glasses clanking together. I looked around to see where the sound could be coming from. After a few seconds, the clinking changed into sort of a tearing. I wasn’t nervous until I felt the ice beneath me begin to shake.

“You going to throw it back or what?” Mike yelled.

I held completely still, afraid of what was about to happen.

“What’s wrong?” May called.

“The ice,” I whispered back as loud as I could. “It’s cracking!”

“What?”

I looked down at my feet and slowly tried to slide one foot forward. Another tearing sound. I immediately thought of what Sophie had taught me—think light-footed, think airy. I tried holding my breath, but just like with Sophie, the ice beneath my feet began to melt, further weakening it. Water pooled around the soles of my shoes. Cursed Light!

Maybe I could jump, I thought. I had enough Light coursing through me that I could probably make it. I crouched low. As I did so, I noticed Christian running up the shore toward May. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he looked frazzled.

Placing my hand on the cold ice, I prepared to spring forward. Just as I was about to push up on my legs, the ice gave way, and I no longer had any ground beneath me to push off on. Instead of going up like I’d intended, I fell into the cold water and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

W
HEN
I
WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD
, I
DISCOVERED ROLY POLY
bugs. I loved the fact that when I’d touch one, the bug would roll into a tight shell as a way to protect itself. I would find and gather as many of those bugs as I could until I’d have enough to play marbles with their hard, circular bodies. The instant one of the bugs began to relax from its shell, I’d touch it again and flick it into the other rolled-up bugs. I played this for almost an hour before my mom caught me and gave me a lecture about being kind to all creatures, especially those smaller than me.

I’d forgotten all about the bugs until I felt the frigid ice water touch my skin. The Light within me retreated as quickly as a touched roly poly bug, leaving me to struggle on my own.

“Struggle” is too positive a word. I did manage to break the surface and gasp for air. I even managed to reach out to Christian, who I saw army-crawling on the ice toward me, but that was it. It was like the cold had seized up my body like an engine in water. And what little current there was sucked me under. The last thing I heard before I felt my head sink below the dark water’s edge was Christian yelling my name.

My body floated slowly beneath the ice, carried by the gentle flow of water. I attempted to claw at it, searching for any weaknesses, but my hand could barely open, let alone close down upon anything solid. The tips of my fingers simply grazed the slippery ice.

I should’ve tried harder, but suddenly all I could focus on was the color of my nails. They were rapidly changing to a grayish blue color that looked familiar. Then I remembered. They were the same color as my father’s when I was asked to identify him at the morgue.

I’m dying, I thought. This sure was unexpected and not at all how I envisioned my death. I was supposed to die gardening in a flowerbed as a hundred-year-old woman, not as a seventeen-year-old trapped in a lake beneath inches of ice.

After a moment my hands were no longer able to move, and I became like a statue, completely still, arms outstretched. I thought a death like this would be painful, but when my lungs began to burn and I instinctively took a breath, I suffered very little. There was only the initial terror of feeling the icy water slide down my lungs, but after a few short seconds, all I felt was peace. Even my mind was completely calm. And for the first time I realized how beautiful it was underwater.

The light from the full moon just barely lit up my watery grave, giving the water a dark, mystical look. It wasn’t such a bad place to die after all, I decided. The color of the water was a starry, navy blue, reminding me of the comforter on my bed at home. And the occasional fish I passed seemed to be hanging from the ice like a mobile above a baby’s crib. I tried to smile but my face was frozen.

Suddenly I stopped drifting. Barely still able to move my head, I turned slightly to see a fallen tree on the bottom of the lake. Its branches had captured me in its grip. Just as well. It might be easier for them to find my body this way.

I waited patiently for my eyes to close and for darkness to claim me, but it didn’t come as quickly as I expected. Why was it taking so long? I thought once water filled your lungs that was it. The end. Roll the credits. At least that’s how the movies always portrayed it.

While I waited for death to overcome me, I began to hum a song I’d listened to earlier that day. It seemed appropriate for the moment, and it also helped me to pass the time.

I was only a few bars into the song when two shadows appeared above me on the ice. One of them pounded hard against the frozen surface. Probably Christian, but I couldn’t be sure. Just before my eyes closed, I saw the second figure bend down and smash through the ice with one blow.

Moments later, I had the sensation of being lifted and then dragged, yet I couldn’t feel anything. Several seconds after, chaotic, muffled voices began speaking all at once. I tried to make sense of their words, but my mind-numbing nausea made me feel like I’d been riding a roller coaster for hours on end. Maybe if I could throw up, I’d feel better, but I couldn’t even open my eyes, let alone stimulate regurgitation.

This new sensation was worse than being underwater. At least when I was trapped in the water I could see. Extreme panic set in as I tried to see or feel anything. I half wondered if I was dead. Why else would I not be able to open my eyes or feel myself breathing? I attempted to quiet my mind so I could try and make sense of what everyone around me was saying.

Suddenly a bright flash of red tore through my brain. This is it! I’m going mad. My body was gone and soon my mind would be too. I longed for the peace that the underwater prison had given me, for I felt none of that now. Only chaos.

But then I heard it.

As clear as a town’s siren at noon. Christian’s voice somehow broke through the madness. “Llona! You’ve got to hold on. Do you understand?”

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t understand, but I still couldn’t move or do much of anything.

“I can’t find a pulse.” That was May’s voice.

A whisper in my ear, “Llona. I know you’re in there. Just hang on.” Christian again.

“How soon until the ambulance arrives?” a female voice asked.

“Not soon enough. We need to take her to the hospital now!” This from the unmistakable Mr. Steele.

Again the female voice, “I don’t think it’s safe to move her. We should wait.”

“She hasn’t broken anything. She’s only frozen,” snapped Mr. Steele.

“He’s right,” Christian said, and I felt my body being lifted again. “Let’s take my car. She can lie in the back.”

“I’m coming with you!” May called.

“I’ll drive,” Mr. Steele added.

I heard the back door of Christian’s SUV open. My body was hoisted up and then laid carefully down. The car started.

“I hope you don’t mind if I break any speed limits,” Mr. Steele said. I’d never heard his normally cool and confident voice so anxious before.

“I don’t care. Just get us there fast,” Christian said.

I still couldn’t feel anything. Shouldn’t I at least feel myself breathing? I heard what sounded like fabric tearing.

“What are you doing?” May asked.

“I’m taking off her wet clothes. I need to get her body warm,” Christian said.

“At least leave her bra and underwear on,” May suggested, for which I was very grateful.

“I will. I’m just trying to save her life, May.”

“Do you have to be undressed too?” May asked again.

“She needs body heat. Now will you lay off?”

May sniffled.

“What are you doing?” Christian said.

“I want to hold her hand,” May said.

“Hang on!” I heard Mr. Steele yell. We must have swerved sharply because I heard May grunt and something like metal crash nearby.

Christian whispered again, “You’ve got to hold on, Llona. Please. You’re too strong to go out like this.” He paused when his voice began to quiver. After a deep breath, he continued, “I never told you, but the first time I saw you, I thought I was looking at an angel. You were walking to school wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. You’d taken off your hat when you thought no one was looking and your hair fell down your back like wings unfolding. I think this was one of the rare times I saw you as your true self.”

If I could talk, I would’ve been speechless.

“Do you feel a pulse?” May asked.

“Um, I think so,” Christian said, but the way he said it made me nervous. His tone was that of a grown-up telling a child a cut isn’t that bad when in actuality, a bone is sticking out their flesh.

“We’re almost there,” Mr. Steele called back.

“Come on, Llona. Don’t let go of your Light,” Christian breathed into my ear.