Protecting the Flame Page 19

  She held herself still a moment, getting her bearings. Her cheek still ached, and her mouth tasted of dead blood. Her brain was fuzzy, and her lashes were crusted with salt and sleep. The only truly pointed sensation was the sharp beaky feeling in the pit of her gut as if she’d swallowed a giant parrot that was trying to gnaw its way out through her belly button.

  Starving. On the other hand, what was new? Since they’d crashed she’d been either puking her guts out or trying to pretend three mouthfuls felt like thirty. She was going to have to talk to Will tomorrow about scouting more, maybe figuring out if there was any game up here or a lake or something. She doubted they’d find anything. Except for the wolves and that mountain lion’s prints, she’d seen no other animal trails, which wasn’t surprising. In winter, animals kept to the lower elevations where they had a better chance of finding food. The only reason predators were skulking around up here was because they were potential prey. God, Hunter was, for sure; she’d caught a whiff of what smelled like rotting meat when she’d helped him wash his face this morning. Plus, there were bodies to scavenge with the promise of more to come.

  What time was it, anyway? She raised an arm to squint at her watch. Almost nine. They’d slept for nearly six hours.

  Moving in slow motion, she disentangled herself, freezing when Mattie let out a soft moan. When the girl’s breathing evened out again, she slid away, forked hair from her face then patted around her parka until she found the pocket where she’d shoved in her flashlight. As she pulled it out, something tumbled onto the sleeping bag with a muted but brassy tickle.

  Mattie’s voice, still half-asleep: “What was that?”

  The kid had radar. “Something I found in the…” She almost said pilot’s pocket but caught herself, certain that if no one had told Mattie about her grandfather, they’d not elaborated about Burke either. “In the snow. Near the wreck. It’s an old-fashioned pocket watch. See?”

  “A watch?” Mattie’s tone held only a smidgeon of interest, but she sat up, sweeping hair from her face. Her cheeks were creased from the sleeping bag. She scrubbed her eyes with the ball of a fist. “How do you know it’s old-fashioned?”

  “Because it takes a special key to wind it. See?” Opening the back, she inserted the slim watch key into the hole in the case and gave it a twist and then another. The movement made the plane-shaped fob and the other silver key clash together. “Why don’t you try it? A couple twists is all you need.”

  Mattie gave the key a few dispirited turns, withdrew it, and then held it to an ear. “Okay, so it’s ticking.” Turning it over, she frowned how at the dial. “It’s the wrong time.”

  “That’s because you need the key to move the hands.” She showed the girl how to slot the key over the center peg. “And see, now, when you turn it, the hands move. Why don’t you set it for nine-ten while I see what we’ve got for food.”

  “Not much.” Mattie worked the key with all the enthusiasm of the condemned. “I counted. We have to do something, Emma. Like, hurray, there was a drone, but it’s been hours, and there’s nothing. We can’t wait around for someone to rescue us. I don’t get that anyway. The drone doesn’t make sense.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said, reaching for the pack of their provisions. “The only thing I can figure is we’re someplace that takes a long time to get to.”

  “No.” Mattie gave an emphatic shake of her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Because now that we’ve seen the drone, we can’t leave, can we? Or we shouldn’t? It’s almost like it was a tease. Like, ha-ha, sit tight, we’ll be back soonest.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think,” she began—and then stopped. Wait, she’s right. She and Will hadn’t thought of that either.

  “It’s weird. If you see something that says, oh, rescue’s on the way, you’re not going to wander off even to look for food. You’re going to wait for rescue to get here, but if you have no idea when rescue might show up…”

  “You could be waiting a long time.” They stared at one another, and then Emma ventured, “Checking us out?”

  “Or waiting for us to get weaker or seeing how many of us are left? Or all three?” Mattie nodded. “Doesn’t it feel like that to you?”

  It did. Any of what Mattie had suggested was possible. But why?

  “Do you think Hunter knows?”

  I always knew this business would come back to bite us if we stayed in too long. She’d found it curious when Hunter said it then; she really wondered now. “I don’t know. He might. I would have to ask him.”

  “If he’d even tell you.”

  “The guy’s trapped, and he needs us. I think he’d tell us.”

  “Unless he’s worried it will only make you mad and then you’ll leave him.” Then Mattie said, without a hint of irony, “It’s something Scott would do.”

  This girl was way too grown-up for her own good.

  After a moment’s silence, Mattie prodded, “We have to do something to get ready.”

  “Whatever we do depends on what we find out.”

  “Then we need to think of all the possibilities and plan for them.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as, I don’t know…leave? We would have to think about that no matter what, right?” Leaning against a pack, Mattie let the watch dangle like a mesmerist trying to hypnotize a volunteer. The fob and keys tinkled. “Come on, Emma, I’m only twelve, and I know we’re in big trouble, drone or no drone or maybe because of the drone.”

  Now she felt like the slow student. “If they’re not here to rescue us.”

  “Especially if they’re not. It’s been five days and now, with Scott and Hunter, we don’t have enough food to last even another two. That means tomorrow has to be about making a plan, finding food, and maybe getting out of here, except how is that supposed to work? What about my mom? Yeah, we can dribble water into her mouth and she swallows and pees and she pooped, but that’s all she does. What about if Will and Scott can’t get Hunter out by tomorrow? Or what if they do? Will said the guy’s feet are toast and probably most of his legs from the knees down. That means if we leave, we have to carry him and my mom. How do we do that?”

  “We have the raft.”

  “Which means we’ll be really slow unless we split up, like…you know…an advance scout to go hunting and the rest of us catching up. They did it in wagon trains.”

  Everything Mattie said made sense…but there was the drone. How did they dare to leave now that they’d seen it and vice versa? “It’s like the Kobayashi Maru.” She waved away the girl’s frown. “Never mind. I still have to talk to Will tonight. We’ll think of something.”

  “But what if we can’t?”

  “I don’t know. Panic?”

  “Ha-ha. Bet next you’re going to tell me to look on the bright side of life.”

  “Never.” Although a line from Monty Python did flit through her mind. “So,” she said, inserting a note of cheer she did not feel, “what’ll it be? Chili mac or beef ravioli?”

  “Which tastes better?”

  “From my experience? Chili mac.” Although she was hungry enough to eat the packaging.

  “Uhm…chili mac, I guess. Say, Emma?” Mattie was studying the silver key. “What does this key open?”

  Peering through the gloom, she shrugged. “Beats me.” Then it hit her how dark it was. “Mattie, when was the last time you fed the signal fire?”

  “Oh, crap. Right before you came.” Clambering to her feet, Mattie cupped her hands and peered through Will’s window. “Crap. It’s burned down to almost nothing. I see a couple of coals, but…crap.” The girl whirled from the window. “I can’t believe I’m so stupid.”

  “Relax, even it’s out, we can start it again in the morning, Mattie. No big deal.”

  “Yes, it is.” Sweeping up a boot, Mattie jammed in a foot and began to furiously lace up. “It was my only job, the only thing Will asked me to do and I blew it. I was supposed to keep the flame going.”

&
nbsp; She heard the ghost of Earl’s words in the girl’s own. “And you will. We will. I can come help if you want. It’s late. We always bank the fire now anyway.”

  “Oh. yeah.” Mattie paused, her left boot only half-laced. “I guess that’s right. You know what would be really good? If we could figure out a way to carry the fire with us so we don’t have to keep starting from scratch or for when we run out of matches or lighters or whatever. Native Americans know how. So do Eskimos. I read it in a book.”

  “Did the book have instructions?” She reached for her own boots. It occurred to her that Will might know how to do this, too, but it might be important to let Mattie try first.

  “Sort of?” Mattie finished lacing up but much more slowly as she thought about it. “You would need air. That is, for the embers you’d carry? Can’t smother them, but it would be the same as banking a fire. You know, using ash and punk wood to protect the ember and not kill it. I have to think about it.”

  “You do that, then. Now, come on.” She held out a hand. “Let’s go keep that flame alive.”

  Chapter 5

  The fire was mostly out, and if it had been up to her, she’d have started over fresh in the morning. But she kept it zipped and only held the flashlight, moving it whenever Mattie said so the girl could see what she was doing. As Mattie fussed, she threw a quick look at their wood supply sheltered under its lean-to of Visqueen. If they did leave here, they would have to start all over, every day: a shelter, a fire, a woodpile, food, water. Worse, much of what they’d already managed…the lean-to, the wood pile, this signal fire, even their stupid latrine…all that would be left in their rear view. They could pack out a lot but not everything, especially if they were also taking out Rachel and Hunter on the raft or whatever half-assed stretcher they could rig. Maybe both would fit on the raft and maybe not, but no matter what, that was a two-person operation and heaven help them when it got to a rock scramble or steep downhill.

  So, maybe only one of us should go. Dropping to her belly, she followed Mattie and wriggled back into their shelter. But go for what? To hunt? She thought again of the drone. Or not wait and get the hell out of Dodge?

  As she shucked her boots, she looked over at Mattie who’d gone to check on her mother. “Still in the mood for chili mac?”

  “Yeah.” Mattie was studying her mother by flashlight. “What time is it anyway?”

  “Late. Past ten. How’s your mom?”

  “The same, although…”

  She stilled, her fingers poised to rip open the MRE’s pouch. “Although what?”

  “I think.” Mattie pulled her head over a shoulder to look back at Emma. “I think she’s dreaming.”

  “Really?” Abandoning the pouch, she scuttled down and wedged herself next to the girl. “Show me.”

  “Watch her eyeballs…there.” Mattie pointed. “See? They’re rolling.”

  The girl was right. Emma’s gaze sharpened on the woman’s face. Rachel’s nostrils flared at irregular intervals, and the tiny muscles along her mouth twitched. Her breathing had become more irregular, too, and Emma thought back to her grandmother’s mouser, Timmy. Whenever Timmy’s whiskers would quiver and his paws twitch, Sarah quipped, Got himself another critter.

  “Dreaming,” Mattie said slowly, “is good. Right?”

  Dreaming was normal. Did people in comas dream? Will would know. “I know people dream at different times of night.”

  “And lots of the time right before they wake up.” Mattie’s tone was tentative. “I read that in a book. I think we need to ask Will. Aren’t you supposed to talk to him anyway?”

  “Yes, but this isn’t an emergency. Come on. We need to eat.” She set about preparing their meal, ripping open the MRE’s plastic pouch then pulling out packets and the flameless heater. (MREs were never amazing, but choking them down cold only added insult to injury.)

  As she poured water into the flameless heater, Mattie asked, “Can we light candles now?”

  “Sure. This will take about ten minutes. Why don’t you set them up?” After slipping in the pouch of chili mac, she propped the heater on a boot near the entrance where there was a draft, started the timer on her watch then scooted back to where Mattie was screwing candles into the travel menorah. “You want to do the honors?”

  “Yeah.” After touching the tip of the burning shamash to each candle in turn, Mattie screwed the shamash back into place. “Yehi ’or.”

  “Yehi ’or.” She caught Mattie giving her a look. “What?”

  “Why don’t you ever say the blessings? The Hebrew ones on the back of the box?” Mattie hesitated then added, “Will did. He didn’t even have to look. He knew them by heart. I asked Will if he knew why you won’t, and he said he didn’t, but that I should ask you. So, you know, I’m asking.”

  Well, that answered the question about whether Will was Jewish. “Your grandfather and I had this same talk, more or less. I don’t believe in any of that, Mattie. They’d be only words, and I don’t see the point in saying thanks to something I don’t believe in.”

  “You don’t believe in God at all?” When she shook her head, the girl asked, “Do you believe in miracles?”

  “I believe there are things we think are miracles because we can’t explain them.” She cocked her head. “You know science, Mattie, and math. What do you believe?”

  “Sort of the same thing, especially after my dad. But then there are times when I see something really cool, like a pretty sunset or when I finally got to see Saturn through a telescope and then I get this feeling.” Mattie pressed a bunched fist over her heart. “Right here, like something is so beautiful, so amazing my whole body fills up, and I feel like I’m going to burst. Sometimes, in the woods, if I’m walking and there’s a bird singing, I feel the same way. Really…big inside like there’s another part of me connected to something larger, and I like it. Why make us this way if there isn’t a reason for it? That’s what I don’t understand.”

  “Me neither.” Emma shrugged. “But feeling spiritual isn’t the same as believing in a god or belonging to a religion.”

  “Then why do you wear that?” Mattie pointed. “Your star.”

  Her fingers caressed the pendant. “Because it belonged to my grandmother, and I like feeling close to her. It has nothing to do with a god or religion. Religions are nothing but systems people made up to explain the world. I mean, Mattie, look around.” She gestured at the fuselage. “This is totally random. There’s no purpose here or some god’s plan. That would be like saying your dad got shot or your grandfather died for a good reason where there is none.”

  “Well…but Grampa dying means there’s a little more food.” At her expression, the girl said in a rush, “I know that sounds bad, but I bet he would’ve pretended not to be hungry so Mom and I would have more. If we hadn’t crashed, I wouldn’t have met you or Will.” Mattie thought another moment. “If my dad hadn’t died, like…would there be a Joshua now? Even if half of him is Scott?”

  Or there might well have been a Joshua that was half her dad, but she didn’t say that. And, seriously, there was a purpose to her grandfather’s death? “I guess not believing is my choice, and—” Her watch beeped, and she said, “And I think it’s time for dinner.” Slipping out the pouch of chili mac, she ripped off the top. An aroma of hot tomato sauce, spicy beef, and macaroni ballooned out on a pillow of steam.

  “Oh, wow,” Mattie sighed. “That smells so…”

  “Mmm.”

  They both froze. After a beat, Mattie said, “You didn’t…”

  “No,” Emma said, and they both turned.

  “Hey.” Rachel’s mouth moved in a weak smile. “That smells good.”

  “Oh my God,” Emma said.

  “Yeah.” Mattie’s mouth stretched in a joyous smile. “Yehi ’or.”

  Chapter 6

  “They look pretty normal,” Emma said into her handset. “One pupil’s not bigger than the other.”

  “Will,” Rachel called, “I
feel fine. Well, except for the headache.”

  Will came back through a crackle of static. “We’ll give you something for the headache, but I need Emma to finish checking you out. More importantly, how’s the baby? Is it moving?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Now sitting, Rachel put a hand to her belly. “Kicking to beat the band.”

  “He’s probably hungry,” Mattie said.

  “I know I am,” said Rachel.

  “Then, let’s get some food into you, but I want you to go slow. What you need right now are hot fluids and plenty of them. You have a couple packets of broth tonight and maybe some crackers…Emma, do we have any crackers?”

  “They were in the MRE we opened,” she said.

  “Then broth and crackers first and, if you keep that down, Rachel, I don’t see why you shouldn’t eat as much as you want. Well, can,” he amended. “Our rations are pretty tight. But we saw that drone, so…” He opted for an upbeat note. “It won’t be much longer.”

  She felt Mattie’s eyes and gave the girl a little shake of warning. Not now.

  “Is…” Rachel raised a timid hand like a kid worried about giving the wrong answer. “Is Scott there? Can I speak to him?”

  Emma thought that pause went on a beat too long. “Sure, he went to have a smoke, but let me get him. Hang on.”

  Figures. Leaving the handset with Rachel, Emma moved to the front of the shelter, lifted a small corner of their plastic sheeting to allow for ventilation, and lit Will’s small canister stove. The guy’s wife wakes up, and he wanders off to have a smoke. But she was being unfair. That might be the way Scott handled stress. Dumping a packet of chicken broth into their pot, she followed with what was left in her water bottle and stirred, listening with half an ear to one end of what sounded like a pretty stilted conversation: lots of uh-huhs and okays.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Scott?” Rachel asked. “You don’t sound good.”

  “Well, you know…hungry. Tired.” Scott coughed. “I’d be out of smokes if I hadn’t got that pack off of Burke.”