No Shelter Trilogy (Omnibus, Books 1-3) Page 10

  “Did you sleep?” I ask her.

  “Yes, Nada, I slept. What kind of question is that?” she replies with a roll of her eyes as she gathers her hair into a ponytail.

  She may appear broken, but her attitude is fully intact.

  “It’s the kind of question someone asks out of concern,” I reply, as I pull on my boots. “No need to be a jerk.”

  I stand from the floor and stalk off into the warehouse.

  Mary calls out after me, “I thought you liked jerks!”

  Daedric watches me as I approach the fire. “Where’s your jacket?”

  “Inside,” I reply, as I take a seat next to him on a spare tractor tire.

  He slips out of his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. “Don’t let her get to you,” he whispers. “She’s dealing with her own stuff. It has nothing to do with you.”

  I shrug out of Daedric’s jacket and hand it to him as I stand. “I don’t care what Mary thinks of me,” I say, shivering more with each steamy breath. “It’s what I think of me that makes me want to disappear.”

  “Would that make you feel better about yourself?”

  I leave the warehouse without answering Daedric’s question. My feet sink into the fresh snow and soon I’m up to my thighs in it. The tractor outside the warehouse is covered in at least four feet of it. The cold penetrates down to my nerves like a shock of electricity. I draw in a deep breath and the cold air makes my throat and chest ache.

  It doesn’t take long before Daedric catches up with me. He helps me into my coat and wraps his scarf around my head and neck.

  “You can’t hunt in these conditions,” he shouts over the whistling of the wind.

  “We don’t have any food!” I reply.

  “We’ll have to wait it out!”

  I follow him back inside though every molecule in my body wants to be carried away with the snow.

  I crawl into the corner of the office and hug my knees tightly. Mary is testing the tips of her three knives for sharpness. She sets aside the small switchblade for sharpening and moves on to the medium one with the ivory handle. She runs her finger over the tip and doesn’t flinch when the knife pierces her skin. She wipes the blood off the blade and puts it away before she moves on to the machete.

  My stomach growls and I pull Daedric’s scarf further down to hide my face. I close my eyes and hope I’ll fall asleep before I begin to feel faint.

  Daedric shakes my arm to wake me. “Nada, we have to go,” he says. “There’s a break in the storm. If we hurry we can make it to the next campsite.”

  Mary is already packed and standing in the doorway. She’s wearing both her boots and her crutch is lying on the floor. If she’s in any kind of pain it doesn’t show.

  The campground is a grueling four-miles away over what should be an easy forest trail. It takes two hours to get from the warehouse to the campground. When we arrive, we find a fireplace inside an old gift shop and immediately change out of our wet pants and boots. The shelves in the shop are stripped bare and the floor is littered with dirt and pine needles, but a fire inside an insulated building is exactly what we need.

  I want to let my boots dry by the fire, but we don’t have time. I slip on my hunting gloves and set off for the woods. An hour later, my feet are frozen as I make it back to the gift shop empty-handed.

  The sun hasn’t even gone down, but I have to let my boots dry by the fire or risk frostbite. Daedric takes an old wooden chair apart for firewood. He throws the splintered pieces of wood into the grate one by one and I watch the embers explode with each impact.

  The hope is draining from my limbs and evaporating into the chimney. We’re not going to make it.

  Daedric looks at me the way Isaac used to look at me. He knows what I’m thinking.

  Mary comes out of the restroom and lays her wet pants over a shelf to dry. She sets her boots next to the fire and sits next to me.

  No one speaks. Maybe they’re both thinking what I’m thinking. We have to conserve whatever energy we have left.

  I reach for my sleeping bag in defeat when the sound of someone shouting outside the gift shop stops me. Daedric stands and Mary pulls out a knife as we listen.

  The shouting comes again. “Over here!” someone shouts.

  My heart is beating out of my chest.

  “Did you hear that?” I whisper to Mary.

  Her face is twisted in a mixture of rage and confusion. She heard it, too. She heard Isaac.

  None of us is wearing boots, but I don’t care. I rush outside and listen again. I race around to the other side of the gift shop and still nothing. I dart around another corner and there he is at the top of a steep incline behind the shop. He has his back to me, but I know it’s him.

  I start toward him but Daedric pulls me back.

  “What are you doing?” he whispers. “You don’t know who that is.”

  I don’t know if the snow on my bare feet hurts. I can’t feel anything.

  He reaches down and pulls someone up the hillside. They’re laughing as they turn around and finally I see his face. He spots Daedric and I right away, as does the girl standing next to him. He walks toward us taking long strides until he’s just a few yards away.

  Isaac is a different person. His brown hair is roughly cut, but it still dangles around his face deepening the shadows in his hollow cheeks. A two-inch scar cuts across his right eyebrow. His gray eyes are locked on mine searching for some sign of recognition.

  He’s not Isaac anymore. Tears stream down my face as he steps toward me.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he says, with a weak smile.

  “Don’t do that,” I say.

  “Do what?”

  “Pretend everything’s okay.”

  His smile falls and his eyes follow it down as it hits the ground. The Guardians have broken him. I want to touch him to make sure he’s real, but I’m afraid he’ll disappear like a wisp of a memory of a forgotten dream.

  He holds out his hand and I step forward. I grasp his hand and he pulls me into his arms.

  “Where are your shoes?” he whispers in my ear, but I don’t answer as I bury my face into his shirt. He smells like the forest.

  Without another word, he scoops me into his arms and follows Daedric into the gift shop. I don’t know how he has the strength to carry me.

  “Put me down,” I say, as we enter the shop, but he doesn’t listen.

  Over his shoulder I see her enter the shop behind us—the girl traveling with Isaac. She’s beautiful.

  Isaac sets me on the floor next to the fire and Mary gawks at him. She’s still holding her knife in her fist. Isaac glances at the shirt wrapped around her arm.

  “Hey,” he says as he walks toward her.

  She takes a step back and Isaac tilts his head.

  “Come on, Mary. It’s me.”

  She drops the knife and throws her arms around his neck. Her sobs rattle inside me and I bury my face in my knees.

  “Hey,” Isaac says with a chuckle. “I’m okay. I swear.”

  But there’s something different about his voice. The tone is deeper, but the volume is quieter.

  “Nada?” he says and I wipe my face as I look up. “This is Qiana.”

  Qiana?

  “She was a prisoner,” he continues as he motions for her to take a seat. “They set us free a week ago.”

  “Hi,” she says with a smile and I can’t help but notice her perfectly white teeth. Isaac has been out of the Salton Sea for a week and he’s gaunt with hunger, but she doesn’t appear to be starving.

  “Why did they set you free?” I ask. “How did you make it all the way here? Are they coming after you?”

  Isaac looks at Qiana before he answers. “They’re not coming after me. They set me free.”

  “What about the secret?” I whisper.

  Isaac grabs my boots off the hearth and sets them next to me. “Come outside with me. We need to talk.”

  Daedric watches as I slip my feet into m
y boots. Isaac grabs my hand and pulls me outside. I fight the urge to look over my shoulder. I don’t want to see Daedric’s face.

  Isaac leads me into the forest, holding my hand firmly as if he’s afraid the wind will carry me away. My boots are still wet and the snow is seeping into my socks. Isaac stops next to a log and brushes the snow off the top. He picks me up and stands me on top of it.

  “There,” he says, as he looks me over.

  I’m a few inches taller than him up here. He holds my hands so I don’t fall as he stares at every inch of my face.

  He shakes his head. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

  “Isaac? What happened to you?”

  He looks away. “I don’t know where to start.”

  I put my hand under his chin and tilt his face up. “Just tell me you’re going to stay.”

  He smiles and this time it’s a real smile. “You came back for me.”

  “Of course I did.”

  He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my chest. I breathe the scent of his hair and my mind overflows with memories of all the times I fell asleep in his arms.

  He takes a step back, still holding my hands, and looks me in the eye. “I didn’t crack,” he says proudly. “They tried to break me, but they couldn’t.”

  “You’re different,” I whisper, as if it’s a secret.

  He shakes his head. “I’m still me. I’m just older.”

  “You’re twenty.”

  “I’m getting old,” he says, as he holds his hand against mine palm-to-palm. The tips of his fingers curl over mine.

  Isaac’s birthday is November 12th. I don’t know how I remember that. I can hardly remember my birthday is December 17th. If his just passed, mine must be coming up soon. I’m going to be eighteen.

  “Eighteen’s a big one,” Isaac says, as if he can read my mind. “We should celebrate now.”

  “How? Should we stick a candle in a big nothing cake with nothing-flavored frosting?”

  “Mmm… Nada-flavored frosting?” Isaac says with a clever smile.

  I punch his arm. “Ew! Shut up!”

  “Come on. You practically handed me that one.”

  “So who’s this Qiana girl?”

  Isaac sighs as if this is a subject we’ve discussed a million times. “She was a prisoner and they let her out at the same time as me. I felt bad for her so I let her tag along. She hardly remembers her own name. She has amnesia.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Well… You got lucky. A girl with amnesia who looks like a supermodel.”

  “She’s not that pretty.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “You’re prettier. No, you’re not pretty. You’re beautiful.”

  “Oh, please,” I say. “Tell me you haven’t taken advantage of her amnesia.”

  “Come on, Nada. I’m not that slimy.”

  I don’t respond. I don’t know how to respond. Mary’s remark about me liking jerks plays inside my mind. Daedric’s not a jerk. She was referring to Isaac when she made that comment. Isaac may have been a jerk to Mary, but he was never anything but loving and protective to me.

  “I missed you,” I whisper.

  Isaac’s eyes are filled with a hardness that wasn’t there eleven weeks ago. “Even with Mr. Hahvuhd Yahd around?”

  “His accent is gone.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” he says, poking me in the belly. “Are you two… you know?”

  I’m silent for a moment as I try to conjure a tactful response. “Daedric has taken care of us.”

  “Especially you?”

  “Isaac,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Daedric and I… we fell in love.”

  Isaac’s face changes. His slick confidence morphs into the same gaunt darkness I saw a few moments ago behind the gift shop and the first day I saw him at Whitmore High School two and a half years ago.

  He gives a curt nod then he picks me up by the waist and sets me on the snow. “It’s freezing out here,” he says, as he sets off toward the gift shop.

  CHAPTER 7

  When I enter the gift shop behind Isaac, Daedric is sitting on a chair next to the fireplace poking the fire, as usual. The way the firelight reflects on his blonde hair makes him appear angelic.

  I stroll up to him and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Hey.”

  His eyes light up. “Hey.”

  Isaac takes a seat between Mary and Qiana and peels off his boots. I do the same and set mine next to the fire. I unroll my sleeping bag next to Daedric’s chair and throw Daedric’s bag to Isaac.

  “You two can use this one,” I say.

  Qiana’s perfect features become even more beautiful when she smiles. “Thank you,” she says genuinely. “We’ve been sleeping on the ground.”

  “Thanks,” Isaac mutters.

  He rolls the sleeping bag out on the wooden floor as far from mine as he can without being too far from the fire.

  “Go ahead and get in,” Isaac says to Qiana. “I’ll be right back.”

  Isaac walks to the opposite end of the gift shop and gazes out the window. Mary rolls out her sleeping bag before she joins him.

  Daedric slides in next to me in the sleeping bag and props his head up on his hand so we can both watch the fire. His hand glides softly over my stomach and goose bumps sprout over my entire body. He kisses the sensitive spot behind my ear and my body tenses. His hand moves up my belly, stopping just short of my chest.

  I turn my head around and he kisses me so tenderly I want to cry. I draw my face away suddenly.

  “You okay?” he whispers.

  I nod. “My birthday’s coming up.”

  “When?” he says, as he kisses the tip of my nose.

  “I don’t know… one… two… maybe three weeks,” I say.

  He kisses the top of my cheek and brushes my hair away as he moves his way down to my jaw.

  “What do you want for your birthday?” he whispers, and his breath against my neck sends a shiver through me.

  “Nothing.”

  “You already have that.”

  “Exactly.”

  In the morning, the storm has picked up again. Isaac refuses to look at me as we sit around the fire drinking hot tea.

  I set my steel mug on the wooden floor and pull my gloves out of my backpack. “I’m going hunting.”

  Qiana stares at my gloves with a perplexed expression. “Your gloves… I’ve seen those before.”

  Isaac laughs out loud. “Qiana, you’ve never seen Nada before yesterday.”

  Qiana shakes her head. “No, I’ve seen those before,” she says. “I have a memory of them hanging somewhere. They were dripping… I think I made those gloves.”

  Isaac’s face is incredulous, but his left eyebrow is twitching.

  “What is she talking about?” I ask Isaac.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe she used to make gloves for a living.”

  Qiana closes her eyes and tears squeeze through her eyelashes. “Why?” she says.

  I hold my hands out in front of me and examine the gloves. I see the puncture mark from the Kingsnake and countless scratches from birds, squirrels, and foxes. The brown leather is soft but rugged and fits me perfectly all the way up to my elbows. I’ve never seen a pair of gloves like these. It’s odd that Qiana would remember these particular gloves. Isaac’s not telling me the truth about her.

  “You can’t hunt in this storm,” Daedric says, as he pulls his jacket on. He’s already preparing to go after me.

  I yank the gloves off and throw them on top of my backpack. Daedric looks surprised I’ve listened to him.

  “What are we going to eat?” I say. “We haven’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours.”

  Isaac reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and tosses something to me. I catch it in my hand and my jaw nearly hits the floor.

  “Happy birthday,” he says.

  I haven’t had chocolate since be
fore the storm—almost three years.

  “How did you get this?” I ask.

  “I stole it on my way out of the Salton Sea.”

  I can smell the chocolate through the foil wrapper. “Thank you,” I say.

  I divide the chocolate into five pieces, but Isaac doesn’t want his.

  “You have to eat,” I insist. “We don’t know when this storm’s going to let up.”

  Isaac finally looks me in the eye. “It’s never going to let up, Nada.”

  I fling Isaac’s chocolate at him and leave the gift shop.

  Daedric stops me on the front steps of the shop. “I’m not letting you go out there.”

  “I’m not going out there,” I say. “I just don’t feel like being inside right now.”

  Isaac is lying to me.

  I want to speak these words aloud. I want to scream them, but I don’t want to give Daedric another reason to hate Isaac.

  The snow swirls around us sticking to my hair and eyelashes. Daedric holds my face and wipes the snow from my eyes.

  “When is your birthday?” I ask him.

  “Every day’s my birthday when I’m with you.”

  “Ugh…” I groan, shaking my head as I step away from him.

  That’s the kind of thing I’d expect Isaac to say.

  “What?” Daedric says with a chuckle. “I was just kidding. My birthday’s March 23rd.”

  “And you’re going to be…?”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me toward him. “Eighteen.”

  My eyes widen. “I’m older than you?”

  He shrugs. “Women live longer than men. Maybe we’ll die at the same time.”

  “We’ll be lucky if we survive another three months,” I say, trying to blink away the fresh snow on my lashes.

  He plants a kiss on both my eyelids and the warmth of his lips melts the snow.

  “Then we’d better make the most of it,” he says, as he pulls me inside the gift shop.

  Isaac is whispering in Qiana’s ear and Mary doesn’t look pleased. I take a seat next to Mary in front of the fire.

  “Can you braid my hair and wrap it around my head the way those medieval princesses used to wear it?” I ask her. “I want to hide this mess under my beanie so it doesn’t get in the way when I hunt.”