Phoenix: Book One of The Stardust Series (4 page)

Flames licked the
walls, devouring the house and all our possessions. From within came the
crackle and hiss of items as they caved under the extreme temperature. My
throat burned, and I fought to suppress a cough. There was no point trying to
stem the flow of sweat, my skin first hot and then almost burning as I neared
the blaze.
I have to find Dad
, I repeated over and over to push myself
forward.

Suddenly, I was slapped
by a wave of heat. I stopped in my tracks, unable to force myself forward. The
house and landscape blurred, and a vision of a car on fire appeared in front of
my eyes. I could feel my hand reaching out in front of me; I stretched as far
as possible but could never quite reach what I wanted. I felt small and
helpless and wanted to cry out.

I gasped for air,
choking against the oppressive heat. Sinking into an unknown abyss, I screamed
for help, but no sound came out of my mouth. Colors swirled in front of my eyes
before darkness enveloped me.

Mad for Plaid

A car slammed into
the truck from behind. Dad looked over at me and shouted, “Hang on, Haley!” I
gripped the seat with both hands as he sped up, practically flying around the
curves of the two-lane mountain road.

My body jerked
forward when the truck took another hit, this time careening off the edge of
the road into a deep ditch. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground outside
of the truck as it was engulfed in flames. I could see both of my parents
trapped in the truck, screaming for me to help them.

Mom? How did she get
in there? I tried with everything I had to reach them, but my body was somehow
frozen, unable to do anything but watch while they both disappeared behind the
flames.

I could feel myself
drifting in and out of consciousness. Thoughts and images streaked through my
mind, blurring what was real, what was imagined. I thought I felt hands
comforting me at some point. At another, someone gently washed my face. Later,
or was it earlier, I sensed it was dark, and I could hear several male voices,
faint but nearby.

I tried to force myself
to snap out of it, to wake up.
Whose voice is that? How close are they?
Images
spun in my head and a wave of confusion washed over me, overpowering me. I was
sinking back into darkness.

*  *  *

I lay in bed with my
eyes closed, my eyelids heavy. I felt groggy and disoriented. My body ached and
felt wrung out.
Maybe I’m getting sick
.

Inhaling deeply, I
noticed scents that were unfamiliar. Even in my bewildered state, I recognized
the smell of sheets that were clean but had laid unused in a drawer. Dirt,
campfire, and something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on mixed in the
air.

Why does it smell
like coffee? Dad hates coffee
.

My skin felt grimy,
covered in a film of sweat and dirt. I pried my gritty eyes open and tried to
make sense of what was going on. I was in an unfamiliar bed and could just make
out the room with only a sliver of moonlight streaming through the uncovered
window. From what little I could see, I was in a small bedroom with just a
dresser, nightstand, and lamp.

There were two doors,
and a sliver of light shone from under the one directly in front of me.

The scent of smoke
lingered in the air, and my memory flooded with images of the house fire. I
broke out in a cold sweat and my hands started shaking. I had no idea where I
was and whether my dad had even made it out of the house okay.

Deciding to
investigate, I pushed back the covers and quietly moved to the edge of the bed.
I placed my right foot on the ground but immediately pulled it back when pain
shot up from my ankle. Glancing down, I was surprised to find an ace bandage
wrapped around my obviously swollen ankle.

Certain I wouldn’t be
able to get to the door without making noise, I moved back to the center of the
bed and considered my options. I didn’t appear to be in any imminent danger,
but there was really no way of knowing who was in the other room. It looked
like I might be able to escape out the window, but I wasn’t sure whether I
could do so quietly, especially with my injury.

I groaned inwardly as
the aches all over my body became more and more evident. My head was pounding,
and my ankle was throbbing. My knees and palms were scraped and sore, and my
throat was burning.

I heard a door close
and then someone moving around in the kitchen. Knowing that I was unlikely to
escape in this state even if I tried, I decided to get back under the covers
and feign sleep. Hopefully whoever was out there would continue to leave me
alone while they thought I was sleeping.

As I lay there, my
throat began to feel even more parched. I fought the urge to cough, but it
became too difficult to suppress, and I eventually gave in. And what started
out as a quiet cough quickly turned into loud hacking.
Great. There went
that plan.

A few moments later, I
heard footsteps coming toward me and then a soft knock at the door. Too
frightened to respond, I pushed my back against the headboard and pulled the
covers up to my chin. The knob twisted and the latch was released. My heart was
pounding so loud it sounded like a freight train.

The door slowly creaked
open, and the room was suddenly filled with light from the hall. I could see
only the outline of a very tall man as he cautiously walked into the room. A
smooth baritone voice said, “Don’t worry; I’m not going to hurt you.”

The stranger walked to
the bedside table and turned on the lamp before stepping back away from the
bed. I stared at his dark blue jeans and green plaid socks while I attempted to
get my nerves under control.
Surely a guy wearing plaid socks can’t be that
bad, right?

Unable to stall any
longer, I finally lifted my head up, and then up some more, to look him in the
eye. It took everything in me not to audibly gasp when I saw all of him for the
first time. He was incredibly handsome and so tall. My pulse started racing,
and I felt myself getting nervous for an entirely new reason.

He had chestnut brown
hair that was short on the sides but longer on top and styled to look just a
little messy. Behind stylish glasses with black plastic frames, his dark brown
eyes appeared concerned and maybe even a little amused. Probably because I was
hiding under the blanket like a three-year-old.

I finally gained the
courage to ask him who he was, but before I could get the words out, I started
coughing again. He handed me a glass of water that he must have brought in the
room with him. I accepted the glass but stared down at it with doubt.
I’m
guessing the rule against accepting candy from strangers also applies to
drinks. What if he’s trying to poison me?

Apparently reading my
mind, he chuckled and said, “I promise that it’s just water. Do you want me to
take a drink first to prove it’s okay?” I saw a slight smirk on his face and
blushed.

The stranger smiled
reassuringly and held out a hand as if to take the glass of water before I
started coughing again. Struggling to catch my breath, I lifted the glass to my
lips. The cool water splashed down my throat refreshing me.

“Thank you.” I had so
many questions running through my head, I didn’t even know where to start. As
the silence became oppressive, I finally asked, “I don’t mean to be rude, but
who are you and how did I get here? Where am I?”

He moved farther away
from me and leaned against the wall, making it easier for me to look up at him.
“My name is Ethan. But, the rest is a little more difficult. I know you have
questions, but for now just know that I want to help you, I promise. Why don’t
you take a shower and get cleaned up, and I’ll make breakfast. I’m sure you’re
hungry.”

My smoke-scented hair
and rumbling stomach couldn’t argue with his suggestion. I felt so dirty; if he
told me I had to use the garden hose to get clean I would have, gladly. But my
head still needed a few answers. “My dad . . . ” I couldn’t
finish my thought, choked up by the possibility that something horrible
happened to him.

Ethan’s expression
turned serious. “What do you remember about what happened?”

Flashes of the night
before raced through my mind. It all seemed like a blur now. “Not much. There
was an explosion, and I ran toward my house, looking for my dad. I fell and
twisted my ankle but got up and kept running. And that’s all I remember.” I
didn’t know if I really wanted to hear the answer or not, but I went ahead and
asked, “Do you know what happened to my dad?”

Ethan sighed. “As far
as I know, he’s okay. He got away from the house after the explosion, but I
don’t know where he is now.”

I sat there in silence,
relieved that maybe Dad was okay. But, I still had no idea what to do next.
There was no way of knowing whether I could trust this man, regardless of how
nice he seemed. Suddenly remembering the cell phone in my satchel, I asked, “Do
you have my bag? I need to call him.” My throat was still raw and dry.

Ethan nodded and left
the room. A moment later he returned; my bag looked dirty but mostly intact. I
dug around until I found the phone and cringed when I saw the cracked screen.
That’s
not a good sign
. When I couldn’t even get the phone to turn on, I gave up.
Clearly my cell phone wouldn’t be of any use.

Before I could ask,
Ethan pulled a phone from his pocket and handed it to me. “Here, try calling
your dad on this. I’ll give you some privacy.” I watched him leave the room and
shut the door softly behind him.

My hands shook as I
quickly dialed Dad’s cell phone number and waited anxiously for him to answer.
My heart sank when I heard, “the number you have dialed is not in service”
rather than my dad’s voice.
What now?

I nervously clutched
the blanket. Hoping I had merely dialed the wrong number, but knowing in my
heart that I hadn’t, I dialed again. Holding my breath, I prayed I would reach
Dad this time. My heart started pounding when I got the same message again.
Guessing a third attempt was futile, I sank into the bed, anxious about what to
do.

There was a light knock
on the door. I quickly deleted Dad’s phone number from the recent calls log
before cautiously responding, “Come in.”

Ethan stuck his head in
the door. “Did you reach him?”

Not wanting to give too
much away, I just shook my head. “Thanks for letting me borrow your phone.” He
walked the rest of the way into the room and took the phone from my
outstretched hand. Needing time alone with my thoughts, I said, “I guess I’ll
go ahead and take that shower now if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. The bathroom
is the first door on the right. I put a fresh towel and clothes on the counter
for you. I don’t have any clothes your size, so you’ll have to make do with
borrowing mine for now. Do you need any help walking?” he asked, glancing at my
ankle.

Heat crept up my neck.
There was no way I was going to let Ethan help me get to the bathroom. “Um, no
thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well, let me
know if you change your mind. You can join me in the kitchen when you’re
finished.” He gave me an encouraging smile before walking out of the room.

I watched until his
tall form disappeared down the hall and then stood up. I swayed, feeling unsure
on my feet and slightly dizzy, before gingerly stepping over to the window to
look outside. The sun was just starting to rise, providing enough light to get
a peek at my surroundings. Unfortunately, all I could see was dense forest, no
civilization in sight, and really no clues as to my location.

With no obvious
solutions to my current predicament, I decided I might as well take it one step
at a time. For now, I needed a shower and then food. I limped to the bathroom
and tried to ignore the sharp pain every time I put pressure on my injured
ankle. Thankfully, the bathroom was just a few steps down the hall.

Once I made it to the
bathroom, I shut and locked the door before looking around; it was tiny and
outdated but clean. A small window let light into the shower, but it was too
small to consider climbing through. The linoleum floor creaked gently
underfoot, and a row of fluffy peach towels hung behind me.

Catching a glimpse of
myself in the mirror, I gasped. I was fairly certain that I had never looked
worse in my life. Fragments of leaves and sticks were intertwined in my long
hair. Instead of its usual shine and luster, my hair was dusty and tangled. I
had streaks of dirt or soot across my cheek and forehead. My whole body was
covered in a layer of sweat and grime.

I realized for the
first time that I was wearing a men’s T-shirt but still had on the now filthy
shorts I’d been wearing yesterday. As I undressed, I forced myself not to dwell
on the fact that Ethan (or someone else) had changed my shirt. I had bigger
problems to deal with. And at least I still had my bra on. I noticed that in
addition to the bandage on my ankle, my scrapes had been cleaned and a few even
bandaged.

I turned on the faucet,
releasing the water and starting the shower. The splashing of the water against
the tub was calming. Unable to handle the stinging of hot water on my cuts, I
set the water to lukewarm and went about scrubbing myself clean. I grinned at
the only soap in the shower: apple-scented body wash. Very manly.

I squeezed shampoo onto
my hand and its scent filled the bathroom. Luxuriating in the warm water, I
gently massaged my scalp. As I attempted to wash the smoke scent out of my
hair, it suddenly occurred to me. My home for the last twelve years just went
up in smoke. Literally.

Although we didn’t own
that much, it was still a blow to realize that everything was gone. I quickly
looked down at my right hand and almost cried in relief. At least I still had
my mom’s ring. As devastating as losing the house and everything in it was, her
ring was the only possession that I genuinely treasured.

Seeing my mom’s ring
took me back to the dream that woke me up this morning. When Dad told me the
story about the car wreck that killed my mom, it didn’t totally sink in that I
was there when it happened. Even though I was only five at the time, I couldn’t
help but wonder why I didn’t remember the traumatic accident and subsequent
fire.