A Whisper in the Flame (The Ragers Series Book 1) Page 13

  “Look, I can see why you want to be with your family, but you should know; they could just as well kill you before you ever get to see your dad.”

  “I have to take that chance. My mom thought that we could do something to help end all of this. And I at least have to try,” I tell him, a slight cry in my voice.

  Jake nodes his head, thinking quietly and keeping whatever doubts he has to himself.

  "Hey, look, I'm sorry I was such a jerk about everything earlier,” he tells me when he finally speaks again. “And there really is no rush. As long as you pull your own weight around here, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Maybe we can help you with some of the information you need about the base.”

  We walk down the hall to Jamie and Kye talking in the kitchen next to a fully cooked dinner. They stop talking when they see us, trying to read the expressions on our faces.

  "So, she stays?" Jamie asks with an air of excitement.

  "She stays." Jake laughs to Jamie's squeal of delight.

  "Yay! Don't worry, Emma. You're with us now.

  Chapter 21

  I can see little fragments of light trying to peek in through the cracks in between the window and the curtains in our room. The little wisps of sun draw me out of my sleep as the night turns into morning. I stare up at the ceiling while Jamie rattles lightly beside me in her sleep, and for a moment, I allow myself to feel at peace.

  I know I have a million and one things to think about and do. A million questions that I need answered by Jake and Kye, but at this moment the only thing I want is to be here. Soak it in for a bit. To go from being completely alone and talking to yourself for a month to being in a house with three other people; it feels weird and comforting all at the same time.

  The time will come when I can't put it off anymore. When I need to set my mind back on getting onto the base, finding my father, and figuring out how to make the cure. I know I should be focusing on it now, but I'm not there yet.

  With everything that has happened over the last few months, I honestly don't know that I could even make it on base. Also, how would I react when I see Dad again? Would I be too emotional and cry the minute I see him, giving away our connection? I’m not entirely sure anyone should know we are related.

  No. I need to be here right now. At least for a month or so to get my bearings back. I maneuver to the end of the bed as quietly as possible as to not disturb Jamie and tip toe out of the room to the bathroom. Jamie's already washed and folded my clothes and a few towels, so I jump in the shower for a quick wash before dressing in my old familiar clothes.

  This is the outfit I wore when Mom died, I think as I look into the small bathroom mirror. It's hard to not feel completely lost every time I think about her. I'm not sure if I will ever get past that feeling.

  "Emma, you okay in there?" Jamie knocks on the door.

  "I'm sorry," I whisper, opening the door. "Did I wake you?"

  "No, no. I thought I'd check in on you."

  "Thanks. I'm fine, sorry. Just standing here thinking."

  Without hesitating, Jamie pulls me into a hug. We stand there for a minute and when we come apart, we both have tears in our eyes.

  "I'm sorry, I thought we both could use a good friend hug." We both laugh lightly, wiping at our eyes to clear away any remaining drops. "Hey, can you help me get my garden transplanted?"

  "Yeah, of course. I don't think I noticed a garden outside yesterday. That's really great that you have one started."

  "Actually, it's not outside yet. I've got some seeds started but they are all sitting in the kitchen windowsill. I have the perfect spot for them though! We're going to take them out by the river."

  "Oh, man, I didn't realize you have a river nearby."

  "It's not far behind our house actually. There's an old path that my dad and his buddies used all the time when they were out here regularly. It's more of a stream off the river though."

  "Well, I'm here to help, so show me the way boss!"

  Within a few minutes we've said goodbye to the guys and make our way outside. Jamie has me carry three different cups with little plants sticking above the soil. She carries a pail and a mini shovel in one hand and a fourth plant in the other.

  The path to the river is wide and well-traveled as Jamie said it would be. The terrain is mostly flat and lined with trees and bushes. Here and there grass has poked its head above the dirt and tree limbs hang low, needing to be trimmed back. As we get closer to the river, the trees space out more, stopping all together about five feet from the edge of the gully. On the other side of the small hill is a rocky sand shore and a river under half the width of mine back home.

  The forest starts up again immediately on the other side, with huge moss trees hanging over the edge, drooping its coverings off of grand branches. A light breeze carries the scent of fish and sun-baked algae, reminding me of home.

  "We'll plant the garden up here. It's the perfect mixture of sun and shade." Jamie gets down on her knees, using the shovel to dig up the earth. She hums happily to herself as she digs and twists the dirt to create a bed.

  While she digs, I place my cups down beside her and look down the river, pouting my lips. Something tugs in my stomach and I can feel envy burn inside. Not only did Jamie's family find each other, but now they have this beautiful little piece of paradise at their fingertips. No Ragers, no destroyed town to remind them of all that's been lost. A sweet, peaceful sanctuary.

  I walk along the gully's edge for a bit, watching the ripple of the river. A bush rises up ahead with little pods throughout the briar. My hand grazes through, wondering what type of berries will grow.

  "Emma," Jamie calls, "do you mind helping me for a second?"

  "Sorry, didn't mean to walk off. Hey? Do you know what is growing in the bushes over there?"

  "Hopefully, blueberries and blackberries. When we used to come here as kids, Jake and I always brought buckets with us to collect the berries. We'd have competitions to see who could find the most. Dad would always end up telling us to hush up because we were scaring away the fish," she laughs. "Mind going down and getting water?" She hands me the pail.

  "You got it."

  My feet slip a little down the side of the hill as I climb to the sand and rocks along the bank. Dipping the pail below the surface, I feel the cool water ebb along my fingertips. I catch Jamie watching me out of the corner of her eyes, so I rise up, bringing the full bucket back to her.

  "The river is still a bit too cool now but, in another month or so it will be warm enough to swim in. The fish are starting to come back too; we’ve been able to catch a few here and there. We'll get to have nice fish dinners every once in a while," she tells me as I climb up the small ridge.

  "Oh, man, I bet it's super nice to swim in."

  "It is amazing! We'll have to go in once it warms up."

  I want to tell her that I may not even be here then, but I don't. It's hard to know what the future holds when you don't have a clue how to obtain your goals. Of course, I could also be keeping my mouth shut because she makes me feel like I'm part of the group, like I belong. I haven't felt that way in a while. I'm not sure I can let go of it so soon.

  "What are you planting, anyways?" I ask instead.

  "I've got some collard greens here, kale, lettuce and carrots," she motions to each of her small plots. "We could be eating some fresh collards and lettuce in as little as four weeks since I started them inside. The carrots will take the longest to grow. They won't be ready until the summer. Well, if they make it at all. I should have started them earlier in the season. I've got some tomatoes I'm going to start in the house soon too. They'll come out here next month."

  "How'd you learn so much about gardening?"

  "My mom," she smiles, I can see her blue eyes brighten in a memory. Her hand across her head, "She used to have a fresh garden back at home. She loved it. I loved sitting out with her, listening to her talk about the plants and the seasons, and how to care for each one
so they could grow healthy and provide food."

  "She sounds like she was a real lovely person."

  "She was incredible."

  Jamie hums to herself softly, returning to her work.

  All I can think of is how much my mom would have liked Jamie. How we both would probably have liked her mom. It seems to be a reoccurring theme with the women in my life. From my mom and grandmother, to Lauren and now Jamie.

  Incredible women raise incredible women.

  Chapter 22

  “What are they doing out there?” I ask, watching Jake and Kye through the rising steam. Water simmers in the large metal pot, taking its sweet time to turn into a bubbling boil.

  The steam climbs out the half-open kitchen window, climbing out the crooked frame to excuse itself from the heat.

  I gave up on trying to open the rusted, cracked thing once the evaporated water started burning the backs of my arms, cascading red puffy skin and irritation bumps down to my elbow.

  Jake is hovering over two crates of items I can’t make out. He’s got a blanket spread out on the grass and what looks like various metal parts in piles. Kye is standing beside him, peering down into a book, a baffled expression covering his bronze face.

  Jamie comes up beside me, stretching above the counter on the balls of her feet and peeping through the window to get a better view.

  “Oh, that!” she laughs, pushing herself back off the counter. “I don’t know why they keep doing this to themselves. Anytime one of us comes back with supplies, they start searching through all of the parts we have. They’ve been trying to find whatever missing pieces they need for the old four-wheeler.”

  “Four-wheeler? Where’s that at?”

  “Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t have seen it yet. It’s tucked away in the tree line. They push it out every so often and try to tinker with it.”

  “They can’t figure it out?” I ask.

  “Not for the life of them. They get so grumpy about it too. Big babies. There’s one part that is just broke and they can’t figure out how to fix it nor can they find a new one anywhere. Sucks, because it would be super helpful.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  With the water boiled, I turn off the burner and push the pots onto the unused spots, wanting to give them time to cool before I dump the contents into the pitchers, with the help of Jamie, for drinking.

  “Hey guys,” I say, hopping down the stairs with two glasses of iced water in my hands. “I brought you a drink.”

  “Thanks!” Kye says, taking his cup enthusiastically.

  “Thank you.” Jake takes the offered cup and drinks for a bit before digging back into the pile.

  “What are you looking for?” I ask, peering from the pile to the manual Kye holds in his hands.

  “We need some O-rings to fit around the gaskets for the four-wheeler. We were able to find those, but the rings that were in the box don’t fit it,” Kye tells me. “We just have to keep comparing sizes until we find the right ones,” he says, holding a small piece next to a ring that is way too big for it.

  “Is that the last part you need to get it running?”

  “No,” Jake sighs, “we need a new cam chain, too. I think that might be the last of it.”

  “Can I take a look?” I ask.

  “Yeah, sure. Do you know anything about four-wheelers?” Jake asks, leading me towards the tree line.

  “Not really. My brother helped my Granddad rebuild one a few years back though. Granddad and I mostly just watched, but it was really cool seeing it all come together.”

  The black and orange four-wheeler sits just inside the forest’s edge. It’s a wide, two-seater, but the seat barely lays on top of the body. Jake and Kye lift the seat off and out the way.

  “See,” Kye points to the loose sitting piston. “This is what we are trying to replace now. This one is all rusted out and burnt up. We had to pry the O-ring off, they already disintegrated.”

  “Oi, and I can definitely see that the timing belt needs replacing,” I say, dragging my finger across the damaged camshaft connecting the turning gears.

  “Hey! You do know a bit about it, don’t you?” Kye looks impressed.

  I smile a bit, blush building into my cheeks.

  “Yeah, we need to find another outdoor sports store or auto parts store that we can find these pieces. The closest one that I think would have the parts we need is a few hours away. A year and a half ago, that would have been no problem to get to. Now…” Jake trails off.

  “Hey, well, while you’re there, make sure you get supplies for an oil change. You’ll want to make sure you change it after doing all this work, so you flush all the dirt and debris out.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t have thought about that.” Kye rubs his hard jaw line, a smile lifting the corner of his eyes. “I’m going to need you to stop now, Emma. I have to offer more than humor here, but you are stealing my thunder right now.”

  “Don’t worry, Kye, I think the sweet, sweet love you offer Jamie is enough to supplement the humor and get you by.”

  Jake’s eyes roll into the back of his head and Kye and I laugh.

  “Right again, Emma. I might have to go offer some of that up to her now,” he says, winking at me before slinking off towards the house.

  “Gross, please, stop.” Jake squeezes his eyes shut, trying to dissolve whatever image just came to his mind. “You had to egg him on, didn’t you?”

  “Not sorry,” I say, smiling as Jake reaches towards the belt. The tree tattoo on his arm shows the raised mark of a scar underneath its trunk. “What’s the story with your tattoo,” I ask, reaching my hand to graze the raised part under my finger pads. His forearm muscles tighten under my fingers and I pull back.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, suddenly conscious of my crossing some unspoken boundary.

  “No, it’s okay,” he says, releasing the tension in his arms. “Old habit, hard to break. I got it when I was younger, trying to cook food for my sister. It’s not really a good memory. I didn’t want anyone to feel reminded of it anymore, so I covered it with a good memory. Being here, in the woods.”

  I can tell there is more to the story, but I don’t ask, not wanting to bring up more bad memories. Just below the sleeve of his left arm, I see another tattoo on his biceps.

  “And what’s this one?” I ask, pointing to it.

  He tilts his head to it, lifting his blue shirt sleeve to reveal the second tattoo in its entirety. He turns his shoulder to me, stepping closer to give me a better look.

  “The mountains; adventure. It’s where I felt the most connected to myself and who I wanted to be.”

  “May I? I ask, stopping myself from touching it before he gives me permission.

  “Go for it.”

  My arms lightly brush around the small bevels of his skin beneath the edges of the tattoo. My fingers circle the black compass and the mountains in the upper right-hand side of it. Near the bottom left side is a black bird with its wings spread out, flying.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say in awe. I’ve never quite had the nerve to get something permanent inked onto my own skin, but the perfection of the shading and colorization on his skin makes me appreciate the artwork more deeply.

  “Thank you. Do you have any?”

  “Oh, no, no. I was never that courageous. I’m not sure I could manage it.”

  “Hey, dude, look,” Kye interrupts, excitement causing his voice to have a sort of sing song quality about it as he walks back into the forest line. “I think we have it.” He holds up the piston and two O-rings that do seem to fit perfectly around it.

  I watch the guys fidgeting with the piece for a few moments while they work to replace the part on the engine. They work well together, like a finely oiled machine. When Kye moves in, working to unscrew and detach the old part completely, Jake moves out. When Jake moves in to put the new piece in, Kye moves out. They don’t dance around each other, they dance with each other in melodic, smooth movements. They b
oth have more grace to their movements than most men will ever possess.

  “How long have you guys known each other?” I ask, still marveling at their teamwork.

  “Ugh, what, since we were, like, twelve?” Jake asks Kye, still bending into the ATV.

  “Yup, we’ve been friends for nearly nine years now. Listen,” Kye turns to me. He swings the wrench around in his hands as he talks, “growing up as a Japanese American kid in a small southern town: it’s not easy. Especially because I was a pretty short kid at the time. Not quite the handsome specimen you see before yourself today.” He draws himself up, pulling his shoulders back and pushing out his chest.

  “You’re like a fine wine,” Jake says in mock admiration, straightening himself up to clap Kye on the back, “you just get better with age.”

  “Thanks, man,” Kye says, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “But in all seriousness, Jake, he’s always been pretty badass. One day these kids were picking on me and trying to hook me up to the flag out in front of the school. They said maybe it would make me more American.”

  “Ugh! Kids can be so cruel.” I say in lamentation.

  “Luckily for me, good ole Jakey was there to stop them. He marched right up to the little gang leader and cracked him in the nose.”

  “I’ll be honest, I had never punched anybody in my entire life before that.”

  “Yep, and the surprise in your face when that kid fell… it told the other kids you had no clue what you were doing either, so they dropped me and went for you instead.”

  “Luckily for me,” Jake echoes Kye, and I can clearly see their genuine admiration for each other, “good ole Kye here just needed someone to stand up for him to realize it was okay to do the same. He turned out to be a lot more of a fighter than they thought.”

  “You see, growing up with a Japanese father turned out to be a good thing for me. He taught me Jiu-Jitsu. Together, we handed those jerks their asses.”

  “And then we were handed a month’s worth of detentions.”

  “Best friends ever since, still kicking ass together to this day,” Kye laughs.