Page 22

chapter twenty-one

Emily

The sheriff lived on a tree-lined street about a fifteen-minute walk from the downtown area. We followed him up the path toward the white Craftsman-style house with smoke trailing from the chimney, and for a moment, the sight of that house looked so normal that I was able to pretend the world hadn’t completely fallen apart around us.

Had it really been four days since we’d survived a terrifying plane crash? Four days since we started off through the wilderness with a handful of supplies and no knowledge of what lay beyond the field where we’d landed in a fiery heap of steel? I was both shocked by the thought of all we’d made it through since then, and grateful that we’d arrived here, even if here was temporary. Night was coming, and I was exhausted out of my mind, and yet afraid I wouldn’t be able to rest. Worried that the dull fogginess I felt was shock at witnessing a point-blank murder an hour before. Or had it been two? I had no concept of time, and reality was a strange ebb and flow that seemed drawn in harsh, black lines one minute, and wavery, blurred paint strokes the next.

The sheriff had used a walkie-talkie to call his teenage daughter and let her know we were coming, and though I was grateful to be given refuge even for one night, it felt odd to be staying in a stranger’s home.

Before the sheriff could unlock the door, a pretty teenager with long, dark hair pulled it open, stepping forward immediately and wrapping her arms around him. “Hi,” she said, stepping back and standing aside to look at the rest of us. “Come in. I’m Katelyn.”

“Hi, Katelyn. I’m Emily,” I said as I entered the home.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. I could see that they were slightly swollen as though she’d been crying. “Oh my goodness. Nova. Wait, you’re Nova.”

I smiled as Charlie and Tuck stepped inside and the sheriff closed the door. “I am,” I said. Although I currently felt about a million miles away from Nova. Right now, I didn’t even really feel like Emily. Rather, I felt like I was waiting for someone to introduce me to myself. Charlie had offered me a role, hadn’t he? He’d told me the part I could play if I was willing. Damsel in distress with him as my hero in a world where a comet had hit the earth and dissolved most of humankind. And I wanted to play that part, to pretend . I did, because I really had no clue who to be. And yet, as much as I wanted to reject the reality of our current circumstances, I apparently wasn’t talented enough to make believe this into a fantasy.

“And you’re Charlie Cannon. Oh my God. Dad! You didn’t tell me you were bringing Charlie Cannon and Nova home.” She gave a small laugh and brought a hand to her mouth for a moment. “Hi. Are you part of their security?” she asked Tuck as she lowered her arm.

“No,” he murmured, but didn’t follow that up with any thing. I’d noticed he’d been extra quiet as we’d walked here, his expression more troubled than it’d been thus far. And I wondered if that was because of the murder we witnessed, or the fact that this outage might extend way farther than we’d originally thought. But of course, I knew very well Tuck would be stingy with his thoughts even if I asked and so I didn’t.

“Well, um, can I take your coats?” Katelyn asked. She gave me another nervous glance. “The last couple of days have been crazy and now this. I wish I could get a selfie. Will you autograph something for me before you leave?”

“So, you’re really celebrities, then?” Sheriff Goodfellow asked as we took off our jackets and gave them to Katelyn, who hung them on a nearby coatrack. Tuck set his duffel bag by the door.

“Don’t mind my dad,” Katelyn said, gesturing for us to follow her past a living room off the entryway where a crackling fire was jumping in the hearth. I thought I saw movement from the couch, but it wasn’t facing us, so I didn’t know for sure. “He doesn’t get out much. Or if he does, it’s in the middle of the wilderness to hunt elk.” She looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes but then gave her dad an affectionate smile.

I glanced at Charlie to see he suddenly looked almost relieved. Because he’d been recognized. I could see that the reminder of Charlie’s stardom had done the opposite for him. It had reaffirmed his identity.

Why didn’t it do that for me?

I needed some solid footing. I wanted solid footing. Something to cling to in this new world of uncertainty. And yet, the mention of Nova had made me feel even more lost.

Katelyn craned her neck as we walked by, obviously getting a look at what had to be a person sleeping on the sofa. The boy with the broken arm, I assumed.

I saw a family photo on the wall, including an older woman who was obviously their mom. But she didn’t appear to be here. Was she gone somewhere? Or were she and the sheriff divorced?

We followed Katelyn and the sheriff into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Dad’s going to grill some dinner out back,” she said, nodding toward the window where I could see the side of a barbecue. “We’re trying to conserve the gas, but we also need to eat the meat we have before the last of the ice melts and it spoils.”

“We really appreciate the hospitality.” I smiled. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“People have to come together in a time like this,” Katelyn said.

“It seems like your town is doing that,” I said.

“We are. But Silver Creek is small.” She glanced at her dad worriedly. “It’s the bigger towns that might be scarier.”

There was a stilted moment that I didn’t really understand as her gaze hung on her dad before he looked away. “Tuck has a little medical training and is going to take a look at Brent’s arm,” he said. The sheriff cleared his throat and clapped Tuck on the back. “I appreciate you being willing, but like I said, if it’s above your training level, you tell us truthfully.”

“Yes, sir,” Tuck said. “I will.”

I leaned against the counter, wincing when it made contact with the back of my hip, where I hadn’t had the chance to change my wound dressing since the day before, causing it to split. Great. Back to square one. The flash of Tuck’s warm hands on my skin several days before came back, but I pressed my hip against the counter again so the pain would move my mind away from that particular memory.

There was a soft cry from the direction of the living room, and Katelyn started moving toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured. “Dad, will you get out some Tylenol and a glass of water?” she asked, hurrying out of the room.

“Dammit to hell,” the sheriff muttered, rifling through a cabinet behind him and pulling out a bottle of Tylenol.

I looked over at Tuck as he watched the sheriff shake a couple pills into his hand. I felt a burst of sympathy. It must be miserable to watch your child—and your little brother—in pain and not be able to do anything.

“If you’re ready to take a look at that arm, now seems like a good time,” the sheriff said to Tuck.

If Tuck was nervous, he didn’t show it. And why he wouldn’t be nervous, I didn’t know. It’d been ages since he’d set a bone. And like he’d admitted to the sheriff, those had all been animal bones. But Tuck nodded. “Absolutely.”

Charlie made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like pessimism put to sound. And though I saw a muscle in Tuck’s jaw tighten, he didn’t look Charlie’s way, nor did he address him.

“Thanks. Follow me.”

Tuck and the sheriff left the room. I glanced at Charlie, and he rolled his eyes. “He’s a doctor now because he watched a vet a few times? What could possibly go wrong?” he murmured once they’d left the kitchen. “Seriously? The sheriff is a lunatic if he’s going to let some stranger who used to live on a farm touch his kid.”

I was a little skeptical as well. I’d lived with farm animals too, and I remembered the vet being called out now and again to set a fracture or…whatever, but I sure as heck couldn’t have performed one of the procedures myself. Then again, Tuck had always been much more interested in that sort of thing than me. I stood, gesturing for Charlie to come with me as we joined the rest of them in the living room.

The young boy was lying on the couch, his face contorted in a grimace as his sister supported him so he could sit up slightly and take the pills with a sip of water. His eyes widened when he saw Charlie. “Professor Tecton.”

Charlie’s grin was instantaneous. “At your service.” He looked at the sheriff, who was staring blankly. “I can create earthquakes. Or…you know, the character can.”

“Brent,” the sheriff said, ignoring Charlie and placing his hand on Tuck’s shoulder, “this is Tuck Mattice. He’s going to take a look at your arm and see if there’s anything he might do to ease your pain.” Katelyn gave her younger brother a reassuring smile, and Brent leaned his head back on the propped-up pillows. She smoothed his hair away from his face and then stood straight and reached for a short stool just behind her. She pulled it next to the couch and gestured for Tuck to take a seat.

“Thank you,” Tuck said as he sat down. Charlie and I moved just a bit closer so we could see over the couch, but still stood in the doorway. The sheriff and Katelyn moved behind Tuck as they observed.

“I’m going to press very gently on your arm,” Tuck said. “It might hurt just a little, but I’m going to try to feel what’s happening with your bones.” The boy nodded and held his arm toward Tuck, who took a minute to remove the sling it was in. “Are you able to bend it?” Tuck asked.

Brent shook his head. “No.”

Then Tuck held the boy’s forearm, his gaze shifting away as he used his hands to assess, moving his fingers around the elbow area. His hands were large, but seemingly very gentle as his thumbs pressed here and there. Brent’s expression was pained, though he didn’t pull away.

I had this sudden flash of Tuck hunkered down next to one of the vets on our farm as the man checked one of the goat’s legs. I had no recollection of how the animal had been injured or what the treatment had been, but that was because I hadn’t been watching the vet—I’d been watching Tuck, taking advantage of him being so focused on something that I could let my eyes linger on him to my heart’s content. Tuck had asked question after question, wanting to understand, wanting to help. And I’d been glad for the chance to watch him, but also, unreasonably jealous of that damn injured goat he’d been so interested in.

The memory hurt in some way I couldn’t exactly explain, an old scar suddenly pulled tight.

“When you fell, did you catch yourself with your hands?”

“I… I think so. Yes.”

Tuck set Brent’s arm gently back onto his chest and turned to the sheriff. “His arm isn’t broken, it’s just dislocated. You can feel where his elbow is out of alignment if you’d like.”

“You’re sure?”

“Very. Listen, like I said, I’m not a doctor.” His eyes moved away for a brief moment. “My training is limited. But I do know that if the bone isn’t set right, it won’t heal properly, and it will continue to cause pain. Getting it back in place should reduce the pain almost immediately. And then it will heal correctly so that he has full use.”

Katelyn’s eyes widened, and she looked up at her father before addressing Tuck. “Can you do it?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

The sheriff gave a reluctant nod. “Brent,” he said, “are you willing to let Tuck try to align your bone? It might hurt for a few minutes.”

“Only a few minutes?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” Tuck said. “I’ll try to be as quick as I possibly can. You’re going to have to be brave though, okay?”

“I can be brave.”

“Great.” Tuck turned toward Katelyn. “Do you have more gauze?”

“Yes. I picked up what supplies I could from the drugstore. I even got some plaster cloth.”

Tuck met my eyes, and I startled slightly as though I’d grown invisible for a few minutes there and suddenly reappeared under his gaze. “Emily, will you go grab the supplies? And a bowl of water?”

“The supplies are in the bathroom,” Katelyn said. “The sec ond door on the right. And the kitchen sink is filled with clean water.”

I blinked, the words registering as my feet moved. “I…sure. Okay.” I walked quickly to the bathroom and opened a few cabinets and found the unopened supplies and gathered them and then returned to the living room. I walked to where Tuck was and placed the supplies at the end of the couch.

“Thank you,” he murmured distractedly. He had picked up Brent’s arm again and was using his thumbs to press into his flesh. I stood straight and headed for the kitchen to get the water. Charlie wasn’t standing where he had been, and when I turned out of the living room, I collided with him, the bowl of water he was carrying splashing over my shirt as I let out a small screech and the bowl clattered loudly to the floor. Behind me, I heard Brent let out a yelp and when I whipped my head around, Tuck shot us a glare, pulled in a deep breath, and focused back on what he was doing.

I cringed. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” I said as I bent and picked up the bowl. God, I felt like a clown. Katelyn had looked starstruck when Charlie and I entered the house. But in reality? We were mostly useless. Recognizable faces and nothing more. Tuck should have gotten the celebrity treatment. He’d recalled setting a few animal bones and now was currently attempting to fix their family member’s injured arm. Not only that, but he seemed confident that he could do it.

Charlie bent too. “Sorry about that.”

“It was just an accident,” I said in a hushed whisper. “You get a towel and clean this up and I’ll get another bowl of water.” He gave me an annoyed look that he quickly covered with a small smile before standing and heading for the bathroom.

When I came back in the living room with the water a minute later, Charlie was mopping up the mess and Tuck was seated just behind Brent on the couch, as he held Brent’s arm straight. I watched as Tuck put his own elbow in the bend in the boy’s inner arm and gripped his hand. Then he used his other hand to hold Brent’s wrist and made a quick movement that caused Brent to cry out as the clear sound of a bone popping into place met my ears. Katelyn gasped and the sheriff gave a small jerk as Tuck let go of Brent’s arm and scooted back onto the stool. “That should do it,” he said. “Try to bend it and see how it feels.”

Brent was quiet for a minute, his eyes closed, pained expression slowly smoothing out. Then he lifted his arm gently and bent it up and then down. “Better,” he said.

Katelyn let out a small sob and brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, Tuck. That’s it? It’s all fixed?”

“Yes, that’s it. But I’d like to put a cast on him, so he won’t knock it out of alignment again before it mends itself. I don’t know that that’s what’s typically done to be honest, but you have the materials, and it certainly can’t hurt.”

I walked carefully and purposefully over to Tuck and set the bowl of water on the coffee table that was pulled away from the couch to make room.

Tuck wrapped a piece of gauze around Brent’s arm. He was efficient and calm. “Do you want to wet the strips of plaster cloth and hand them to me?”

My breath hitched, nerves fluttering. But I nodded as I knelt, making a point not to grimace at the pull of the wound on my hip. That was nothing compared to the pain this little boy had been enduring for days. Plus, I could at least try to make up for being a klutz earlier and causing Tuck to lose his focus. He finished with the gauze and then reached his hand out for the first piece of plaster cloth. I dipped it in the water, squeezed lightly, and then handed it to him. “This might not be the prettiest cast,” he murmured as he began laying the pieces on Brent’s arm. “But it’ll do the job.”

Brent’s eyes had drifted closed, and he was breathing evenly as though he was beginning to drift to sleep. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Dad,” Brent said, his words slurring. The poor kid probably hadn’t slept well in days. Tuck and I worked quietly, getting into a rhythm. Dip. Squeeze. Hand over. “Put a piece over the edge of this one, would you?” Tuck murmured, inclining his head toward a strip he’d just placed down. I nodded and leaned closer to him, reaching my arm across his to lay the strip on Brent’s arm. I felt the heat of Tuck’s body and smelled the scent of his skin, my heart rate jumping as my hand jerked slightly and my fingernail scraped across Brent’s exposed hand. The boy startled, his eyes flying open as I dropped the piece of material and withdrew my hand quickly. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

Tuck sighed and rearranged the strip himself. Brent’s eyes drifted shut again, but I cringed as I saw that one of my intact nails had drawn a small bit of blood right above his thumb. Mostly, they were ragged and broken from all our hardships. Once these nails had been the height of fashion, and now they not only looked awful, but they also seemed ridiculous. Because they were the fingernails of someone who was expected to do very little, physically speaking. And doing very little was currently not much of an option.

Tuck lay Brent’s arm gently on the now-open sling across his chest. “It’ll dry quickly,” he whispered, standing and stretching his neck. I picked up the bowl of water and stood too as Katelyn stepped toward Tuck and threw her arms around him. “Thank you. We got so lucky that you’re here.” For a moment Tuck looked stiff and awkward, but then relaxed, accepting the physical gratitude. And I couldn’t help wondering just how long it’d been since he’d received an embrace of gratitude. Or an embrace of any kind, truth be told.

“I’m glad I could help,” he said when she stepped away. “It’s funny what hangs around in the cobwebs of your mind.” He smiled, and it was sweet and slightly bashful. My heart gave a strange bump, and I turned away to go dispose of the water, careful to avoid Charlie, who was leaning against the doorway looking bored.

Behind me, I heard Brent let out a soft snore. He was sleeping deeply and peacefully. And now he could heal.

* * *

We ate dinner with Katelyn and Brent while the sheriff went out to check on the men who’d taken first shift at the roads leading into their town and to stop in at the community center. The grilled chicken, canned green beans, and store-bought rolls were one of the most delicious meals I’d ever eaten, and that was saying something considering I’d eaten in some of the finest restaurants in America, if not the world. We’d been existing on snack food since we walked out of that field, and while I was grateful for what we’d managed to find, the small amount of it had ensured we were practically starving. Less than a week, and food had taken on a whole new meaning. I didn’t want to think about where we’d get our meals from here on out because I was well aware that “practically starving,” was very different than actually starving. The truth was, I didn’t want to think about a lot of things and thus far, that’d been somewhat easy as the goal had been simply to find civilization and figure out a way back home.

But now, it’d become abundantly clear that the way back home was filled with a whole slew of questions, and, if Leonard was any indication of the general philosophy out there, quite a bit of danger.

Charlie was in the kitchen happily telling Brent a story from one of the movie sets he’d been on, upbeat and animated and obviously feeling smack-dab in his comfort zone. Good. Let him have it because I had a deep feeling there wasn’t going to be a lot of comfort of any kind moving forward. At least in the immediate future.

Tuck had finished first, thanked Katelyn for the meal, and excused himself, off to who knew where. Brent had sat up eat ing, shoveling the food into his mouth as he shot questions at me and Charlie. And I couldn’t help noticing the relieved look on Katelyn’s face as she watched her younger brother, obvious that the pain he’d been in was now manageable. Because of Tuck.

I’d helped with the cleanup, and then Katelyn had asked that I follow her upstairs where she took a canvas backpack from her closet and handed that to me along with a pile of clothes with a pair of short, lace-up hiking boots sitting on top. “The boots are size eight,” she said. “Close enough? These will protect your feet better than those.” She pointed down to the canvas sneakers that a woman had died in, which were better than the threadbare slippers, but not nearly as good as a warm pair of hiking boots.

I took the items from her. “Yes. Thank you. I wear a seven and a half. These will be great. I really appreciate it.”

“There’s a thick pair of socks under the flannel shirt. The flannel is my mom’s. I don’t think she’ll mind though. She’s the most generous person I know.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she pulled in a sharp breath. “She’s going to be so mad that she wasn’t here. She likes your music too.”

“Where is she, Katelyn?” I asked quietly, apprehension causing me to go still.

“Vegas. She’s a teacher and she was invited to an aspiring educators conference.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “She was excited, but nervous. She’s never traveled much at all…and then this. We don’t even know if she’s okay.”

“Oh my God.” I set the pile of clothes down and brought my hand to my forehead. “But she wasn’t on a plane. Just at the conference?”

“Yes. She was at her hotel. My dad had just talked to her before the lights went off. He says maybe the power isn’t even out there. He says maybe she’s on her way home right now.” Katelyn swiped at her eyes. “My dad’s thrown himself into his job protecting the town. I think it’s keeping him sane. Along with Brent and everything else, it’s been a lot.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe Nova walks into my home, and I start crying like a baby about my mom.”

“Your reaction is totally normal. But you have to keep believing she’s okay. I’m doing the same with my mom too. They’re okay. They are.”

Katelyn nodded. “They are. And you’ll be okay too. It’s going to be hard but you’re Nova. You can do anything.”

I nodded and then I stepped forward and wrapped Katelyn in my arms and she hugged me back. “Everything feels so uncertain right now. But we’re going to be okay. And when this is over, I’m going to send you front row tickets to my concert.”

She let out a soggy laugh. “Okay. I’m going to start planning my outfit now.”

I smiled. And something about the offering of comfort to a girl who was younger than me, comforted me as well and boosted my confidence. Tuck was cool under pressure. He was strong and he knew things. And Charlie cared about me. But I wasn’t totally useless the way I’d thought of myself earlier. I could “adult” now and again if it was necessary. I’d become Nova. I’d risen from virtually nothing. And I was going to cling to the fact that though I was scared, I would face this challenge with grace. And I’d be proud of myself when I looked back on this traumatic time.

After a moment, we both stepped back and Katelyn walked over to her nightstand where she opened a drawer and removed something. When she held it out to me, I blinked down at it. A switchblade.

“It’s been scary at night. Everything’s totally dark and silent and I, well, I took this from my dad’s collection. He has other knives too, don’t worry. Here. You press this button,” Katelyn said, demonstrating so that the sharp blade swung out. She closed it and set it in my palm. “I’m not saying you’re going to need this, but…” She frowned, pausing for a moment. “My dad says a woman should always be prepared to protect herself.” She glanced out the window to our right where the pink sunset shone through the blinds. “Promise me you’ll use this if you need to.”