Indelible (42 page)

Then she said something in Guarani that I didn’t understand. Her voice held a soothing quality. She dropped her arms and stopped speaking.

“It’s done.”

I wasn’t sure what I expected, maybe a sonic boom or a magical wall to show before disintegrating, but nothing happened. The leaves sort of rustled and the air seemed fresher, but that was it. The man beside me grabbed hold of my arm, holding me tight.

“Are you finished,” Mr. Crosby asked above his colleagues’ whispers of, “Did it work?”

“Yes,” she said.

“You’re lying,” he accused in a cold voice. “You forgot the key ingredient.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something move. My head spun toward it, as the man holding me dragged me over to the X and raised a knife. Its blade caught the moonlight and the sharp edge glinted before it dropped, slicing through my sweatshirt and skin. On reflex I pulled my arm away from him, a spray of blood flinging into the air. I screamed at the burning in my arm. My fingers covered the wound, warm, sticky blood puddling under them.

I spun around, my eyes passing Vovó’s shocked face, past Steve and Cherie being held by two men apiece, past Brent, held by four, past Mr. Crosby, whose eyes were filled with triumph, and back to where my blood had fallen.

On the red-splattered X a speck of light appeared, raising a few inches off the ground. Then, like an ignited gasoline trail, the speck of light took off, wrapping all around campus and returning to where we stood in a matter of seconds. The glowing strip extended high until it stretched over our heads in a blinding, glowing dome above us. And with an ear-cracking explosion, the white light exploded into a shower of sparks. The force of the blast knocked all of us off our feet, and I slammed into the ground as the earth groaned and shook.

Panicked screams filled the night and footsteps pounded near us. The people at the party must have seen and felt the barrier’s destruction too. I sat dazed, blood leaking down my arm.

Brent and Crosby were the first on their feet. Crosby yanked me up, my body pressed into his. Brent stood, his feet spread shoulder-width apart and his fingers moving, red sparks forming between his fingers. Vovó sat up holding her head. Cherie and Steve were still flat on their backs, eyes closed.

“Let her go.” Brent’s brown eyes were hard and cold.

A gust of air pushed Crosby and me back. Crosby circled his free arm around my throat securing me in a chokehold. I struggled, kicking my legs, scratching at the arm around my neck but I couldn’t make him budge or throw him off balance. His other hand held a gun. He pointed it at Brent.

Winds whipped around us, thunder rumbled in the air, Brent’s fingertips started to glow red. Then the cold metal of the gun pressed against my temple. The storm stopped and Brent held up his hands. “Don’t hurt her.”

“D-d-don’t shoot anyone!” Bryan Pendrell yelled. “Are you i-i-insane? The b-b-barrier is down and w-w-we have the j-j-journals!” Mr. Crosby didn’t move. Bryan Pendrell screamed,” I order you to r-r-r-release her!”

“I don’t take orders,” Mr. Crosby said in a lethal voice. With that he turned the gun on Bryan Pendrell. His leather-gloved hands pulled the trigger. The bullet left the chamber in a screeching blaze. Vomit rose in my throat as the bullet tore through Bryan’s chest. Bryan’s howl of pain cut through the night. The sulfuric smell of gunpowder invaded my nose. I gagged as blood blossomed on Bryan Pendrell’s white dress shirt.

Mr. Crosby swung the gun back to my temple. He was going to kill me too. I kicked and flailed my arms but it didn’t help. He held me too tight to break free. With one hand I grabbed the wrist that wrapped around my throat. He was too strong and my fingers did nothing but annoy him. My eyes found Brent’s. Brent who held the power to control the weather. . . in a moment of clear thought I remembered I had my own set of skills. I wrapped my hand around Mr. Crosby’s wrist at my throat.

My hand started tingling, my spirit hand leaving my skin. I concentrated on it, guiding it through his skin, inside him until I grabbed his ghostly wrist. I yanked hard. The sound of bones crunching slipped past my ears. He let out a scream as his wrist jerked at a horrible angle. My other hand knocked his gun arm aside. He dropped the weapon as he cradled his arm to his chest and sank to his knees. I kicked him in the groin as I disentangled myself from him and scooted away, grabbing the gun.

I half crawled to my grandma’s side, and I felt the air shift as the men projected. The nature of the battle had just changed. Brent and I shared a look. He gave me a small nod before he projected. I followed, leaving my bleeding body. Vovó, despite not being able to project, was still moving, still in the battle. She dug her fingers into the ground and started murmuring words under her breath.

By the time I got to my feet, Brent had already summoned a windstorm that sent half the Clutch to the ground. He raised his hands, waving them in the air and the moon disappeared behind a sheath of clouds. Lightning lit up the sky.

The chants of four of the Clutch members carried over the tempest. Their linked hands glowed and the man in the center started to shine.

Brent lifted his hands to the sky again and thunder roared. Between his fingers a ball of elements formed and circled between his hands. He dropped one hand and pointed it to the shining man. It soared toward him and smacked the man in the chest. He toppled over and Brent sent another ball at the rest of the link, who fell over like dominoes. More chanting surrounded us as another link of members formed. Brent raised his hands again just as DJ tackled him.

DJ’s eyes were glassy, unfocused as he pummeled at Brent. Brent slugged him in the jaw and pushed him off. Brent sprang to his feet and gathered another ball of elements and sent it at the new chain. The first group was back on their feet and a third formed.

A beefy member of the Clutch ran toward Brent. He made to punch him but Brent raised his hand and the man flew back. Another man went for him.

I looked around trying to figure out a way to help. On the ground lay fallen oranges about the size of golf balls. I concentrated on one and sent it to the unoccupied body of the man lunging at Brent. It hit him square in the forehead, knocking him back and his spirit form fell, too. I sent another one flying. It hit its mark. I was about to do another when I was tackled.

I ate dirt but managed to flip over before DJ pinned me down.

“Stop!” I shouted at him. But he didn’t listen, his eyes still unseeing as he slapped me hard across my face. Brent cursed loudly, a bolt of lightning illuminating the sky. The smell of burning surrounded us.

DJ held me down. I bucked under him and raked my fingers across his cheek, drawing blue spirit fluid. He grabbed both wrists and gathered them above my head in one hand while his other hand reached for my throat. Before his fingers cinched closed he released me and grabbed his left arm with a howl of pain.

What happened?

He rolled off of me, his eyes glaring to my right. I turned my head to see Vovó barefoot, her toes buried in the ground.

“Move away from her or I’ll do it again,” she threatened. She twirled her hands and a tree branch near his body creaked and swung down onto his arm with a sickening thud.

DJ’s scream turned into a banshee’s howl before he reconnected with his body.

I sat up and the world turned. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to stand, but a dainty hand appeared in front of my face. Sophia.

She gave me a wicked grin as she helped me to my feet. Then she spun around and leapt on the man in the center of one of the Clutch’s lines. Christopher came from the other side and tackled another. I gathered whatever stray wind I could find and sent it toward the Clutch.

The members’ spirits were still in their line but their bodies had plants entwining around their ankles, crawling up their legs. The vines squeezed their middles and covered their faces. Their spirit forms started gasping for air, but still they chanted.

Brent kept up his storm, directing balls of energy and fending off attacks. For everyone we knocked down another one stood up. Vovó shook, I felt faint and Brent panted. I pushed my wind-blown hair out of my face, fighting back tears and exhaustion. It wasn’t going to end. There were too many of them, and we were tiring.

“Yara, reconnect!” My grandma directed.

I did, just as Vovó lifted her raw and bloody fingers toward my body and grabbed around my arm, around my cut. Our blood touched and I screamed in pain as something sparked inside of me like a firecracker bursting out from my heart, out of my fingers, my toes and my mouth. I felt different; a new power coursed through my veins.

“Stop! Get back in your bodies.” Vovó commanded. Without thought, my voice had spoken the same words she had decreed. Everything stopped—the fighting, the chanting, the storm. Even the Clutch stood in place. “Stop! Turn yourselves in.”

They all reconnected, even Brent, who dropped to his knees then fell forward onto all fours, breathing in ragged gasps.

Most of the men’s eyes looked dazed as they reconnected, and the plants binding their feet loosened before they turned and left the groves. All but Mr. Crosby. He still cradled his broken wrist and refused to move.

“Leave us alone.” She repeated. Her body trembled, and plants, weeds, and trees all followed her movement.

Mr. Crosby glared at us, his eyes seething hatred as he walked away. My eyes never left him, afraid to turn my back on him. His pace picked up as he neared Brent and only because I watched him so closely did I see him flick out a knife. I wasn’t aware that I was running, that I had shoved Brent out of the way, or that I had shielded him with my own body. I wasn’t aware of anything other than burning of the knife stabbing into my shoulder. I was knocked off my feet, tripping over a stunned Brent.

It hurt. Oh, it hurt. I turned my head, pressing my cheek into the dirt and found Brent staring at me. I would have expected him to be pale or scared but his face was red, almost glowing, his brown eyes seeming to boil. The lanterns on the trees exploded, red-hot sparks falling to the ground. Several small fires sprouted among the dried twigs and leaves.

A burst of wind twirled around us and the storm clouds thickened. Thunder boomed and lightning cut across the sky. Brent threw his head back and roared, his hair falling behind him like a lion. He ripped off his sweatshirt and held it to my shoulder, wrapping me in his arms.

Beyond Brent’s shoulder I watched Steve sit up and look around in a daze. He then reached over and touched Cherie’s face.

A rustling to my left caught my attention. Mr. Crosby’s feet had sunk in a hole and he struggled against the root that had wrapped around them, chaining him to the spot. Brent gently lay me down and jumped up. He swung around and stalked toward Crosby who struggled against Vovó’s snare. A small vortex of a cyclone circulated around Crosby’s face. His hand pulled at his collar as he struggled for air. Lightning struck again, blinding me for a moment. When my vision cleared, Cherie’s face looked down at me, a trail of blood down her temple.

“What happened?” Her blue eyes widened. “Are you bleeding?”

“Go get help,” I ordered. She didn’t even argue before she hurried into the shadows and ran toward the school.

Brent’s fingers glowed red, the air stirred, branches groaned, owls took flight, and leaves fell off the trees. The wind fanned the flames where the lanterns had fallen and I could see black smoke rising, the air growing thick with it. Mr. Crosby still struggled to breathe while Brent stood before him like some Grecian god passing judgment on his subjects, powerful and full of vengeance. One second he was standing tall and the next he was on the ground.

He stiffened and began convulsing, foam oozing from his mouth like a rabid dog. The moment Brent was down, Vovó raced to him. Crosby wrenched his feet loose and disappeared into the dark. Steve dropped by Brent’s side.

It seemed like a dream: the way the storm intensified and the tower of flames reached higher into the dark night. The flames moved away from us. I dragged myself unsteadily to my feet as Vovó moved toward me.

I coughed on smoke and the heat pressed against my skin as I limped toward Brent. Vovó grabbed me, trying to hold me back, but I slapped away her hand, knowing he needed me. I coughed again.

“Yara, you’re heading toward the fire.”

“Fire?” I really looked for the first time and saw the flames around us. Orange sparks danced in the sky and the wind had shifted, sending them closer to us. Several landed next to Brent, his body crumbled on the ground, his shirt soaked in my blood. I screamed. Brent still convulsed, shaking, his skin soaked in sweat. Tendrils of flame shot up around him. Steve batted at the flames around Brent, waiting for his seizure to stop so we could carry him out.

By the time the convulsions stopped, the flames surrounded us. Steve took an arm and pulled him to his feet. I stood too, and had to grasp a tree trunk to not collapse. The smoke had rolled in and covered us in a dreary, deadly shadow. Ash fell down on us like hell’s tears.

I held onto Vovó as she grabbed Brent’s other arm, helping Steve carry Brent’s limp body. I took a step forward and tripped over something blocking the path. I couldn’t see what it was but my hands felt around the cluttered dirt floor, looking for it. My fingers skimmed across a hand and I crept under the hands and arms to a pair of limp shoulders. I searched for a pulse but I couldn’t find one. It was Bryan. I shuddered and climbed to my feet, stumbling forward, not sure which way to go when a hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back.

“Yara, we have to go,” Vovó said.

“Don’t get lost, Yara,” Steve called.

The trees started snapping and popping as the fire consumed them. My lungs felt heavy, my brain slow. My shoulder ached.

Steve stumbled and lost his hold on Brent, who fell to the ground like a rag doll. He didn’t even budge, but the ground around him singed. Steve collapsed on the ground.

“I can’t lift him.”

My knees gave way and I sank down beside him. We were going to die. My tears plunked down on my hand. The earth gobbled up the moisture.