House Of Dragons Page 23

  For some reason I didn't mind that Tracy had joined Kathy in referring to me as a "little girl," and I started briefly explaining to a now-rapt audience around the campfire what had happened at those Olympics.

  In short, during the long program warm-up on the ice with the last group of skaters of the evening, I'd had a collision with a Canadian skater named Kayla. Later, endlessly replaying the collision in slow motion, most commentators came to the conclusion that it had been her fault. I was never quite sure whose fault it had been, but I never cared. Sometimes collisions just happened, and because Kayla was a very sweet girl and a friend, I had zero suspicions that she'd in any way crashed into me on purpose.

  When we'd both tumbled to the ice, one of Kayla's freshly-sharpened skate blades had somehow slashed me across my left thigh, immediately opening a wound that had poured blood. The packed stadium had issued a collective gasp, followed by some sort of collective ooh sound that I'd always distinctly remembered, which had alerted me to the fact that someone had been seriously injured even a second before I felt pain and saw my freely-bleeding leg.

  Medics had rushed onto the ice and had whisked me away to some medical facility room right in the stadium. There, with Sandor pacing and Marta bawling her eyes out, I'd received eighteen stitches to close the deep gash in my thigh. I'd also passed out, having made the huge mistake of glancing down while the doctor was doing the stitching. Being exceptionally squeamish, I should have known better, particularly since I'd already been nauseated just from seeing all my own blood on the ice.

  Sandor and Marta left it completely up to me whether I would go back out and skate, but I didn't even have to think about it. As the reigning United States senior national champion, and having placed second at Worlds the year before, with a Russian skater who had since retired taking first, I was predicted to win the Olympic gold, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers. Also, I was currently tied for first place after the previous evening's short program.

  So, within ten minutes of having my leg stitched up and coming out of my faint, I took to the ice to near-deafening applause, despite the fact that my injured leg was still partially numb from the shot the doctor had given me before stitching me up, and despite the fact that I felt so lightheaded and shaky that even walking to the edge of the rink with my skate guards on had been a challenge.

  Everything had happened so fast that I hadn't even had time to possibly find an alternate costume. The one I was wearing, which was pale pink with pearly beads on the bodice, had smudges of blood all over it, as did the bandage around my thigh, though I'd hardly even noticed, far too focused on my long program and what I needed to do, which was skate the best I ever had in my life.

  Not having a single fall, I skated reasonably well considering the circumstances, especially compared to Kayla, who, before me, had finished her program with no fewer than five complete wipe-outs, bursting into tears the moment the music ended.

  However, I certainly didn't skate the best I ever had in my life. A fairly large stumble, a tiny stumble, a clear wobble, and a pair of two-footed landings made it so that the gold wasn't to be mine that night.

  Four years later, I'd went back to get it, but still recovering from flu and pneumonia that had recently put me in the hospital for three days, I'd only placed fourth. Before the Bloodsucker apocalypse had hit, I'd been thinking that my third Olympics was going to be the charm in my quest for gold.

  Telling just the very brief gist of my saga around the campfire, I really didn't go into too many details, feeling slightly self-conscious and strangely embarrassed for some reason.

  I supposed that in light of everything in the world having gone to hell, and with millions of people having lost their lives by way of becoming Huskers, and with us survivors having to struggle just to stay alive, the idea of someone striving so hard for an Olympic medal almost seemed silly to me in the present.

  Tracy didn't seem to think so, hanging on my every word with her chin propped on her fist, and several other people around the fire asked questions and expressed admiration here and there. Kathy, who was sitting with her husbands' arms around her shoulders, was not one of them.

  When I'd finished speaking, Nick commented that I was obviously "a very brave and tenacious woman," which made my face burst into flames for some reason. I murmured my thanks and then effectively changed the subject by asking Elisa if she'd mind if I had another cup of the tea she'd made, to which she said of course she wouldn't mind at all, before getting up to pour it for me with a smile.

  A while later, after numerous small tents had been pitched, Tracy and I went right to sleep in one together. Or at least, she went right to sleep, with a little smile on her face, too, I saw by the light of a flashlight while I was rifling around for a lip balm in my backpack. I took a little longer to fall into slumber, though.

  Thoroughly irritating me, I kept seeing images of Nick and Blaine in my mind, their faces, their very well-developed muscles, and how they'd both looked fighting the Huskers in their respective animal forms. I kept recalling some of the things they'd said to me, too, things like what Nick had said in response to my brief Olympic story, and what Blaine had said to me earlier in the truck, after appraising my body with a clearly admiring once-over.

  Feeling like I should be focused on my sisters and a possible escape-from-Helena plan, I just did not want to be having these thoughts about Nick and Blaine, and I didn't even know why I was, except that a few things that Tracy had said had possibly gotten my mental wheels turning somewhere in the very back of my mind.

  Truthfully, even though I wasn't very sexually experienced at all, I'd always fantasized about sharing a bed with not just one, but two men. I didn't know why the mere idea had always turned me on, but it always had and still definitely did, and more than a little bit.

  From inside the tent, I could hear Nick and Blaine's deep voices somewhere nearby as they pitched additional tents, and just hearing them talk pushed me from irritated to angry for some reason. Pretty much just because it was hard not to stop thinking about them while having to listen to their voices, Nick's so rich and clear, and Blaine's gravelly in some oddly appealing sort of way.

  Once all tents were pitched and all had fallen silent, except for the occasional footfalls of whoever had taken the night's first guard patrol shift, I was finally able to quiet my mind, at least somewhat. However, it was probably an hour before I was finally able to fall into any kind of a real deep sleep.

  The following morning, I shared some of my grooming items with Tracy so that she could get washed up, too. Then once we were both dressed, the two of us had a seat on one of the logs around the fire pit, where everyone else had already gathered with mugs of coffee that Kathy had made.

  She handed me my mug with a cheerless good morning. Since she possibly seemed to have some sort of a problem with me, I figured I was probably lucky that she'd said good morning to me at all, cheerlessly or not.

  Tracy and I asked Elisa if we could give her a hand with the kettle of oatmeal she was stirring above the fire, but when she smilingly said she had it all under control and just wanted us to enjoy our coffee, we set about doing just that while everyone else continued on with their various conversations around us.

  After telling me that she'd slept like a baby and asking me how I'd slept, Tracy lowered her voice a notch. "I just wanted to say sorry if I made you feel in any way weird last night when I was so on cloud nine about having been rescued, and you seemed to be still trying to adjust. I didn't mean to make it seem like I thought you were odd for not being happy or something.

  “I tend to adjust to new situations really quickly, but I know not everyone does. If you were feeling overwhelmed or something, I didn't mean to add to that, if I did, with being so wound-up how I sometimes get when I'm really happy."

  Giving Tracy a little smile, I thought what a sweet friend I'd found in her. "Don't feel sorry about anything. If I was seeming troubled last night, it had nothing to d
o with you. See, I just don't consider myself to have been 'rescued' like you do."

  "Well, what do you mean?"

  "Well, I see myself as having been abducted at worst, and temporarily thrown way, way off course, at best."

  Blowing on the surface of her coffee, Tracy frowned. "Well, what do you mean?"

  I sighed quietly, taking a quick look around to make sure everyone else was still engrossed in their own conversations, which they seemed to be. "See...I don't want to be trapped in Helena. I'm trying to get somewhere, and have been for almost two years. Please don't tell anyone this, but I have two sisters who survived the virus, too, and I need to get to them. They're down in Nashville, which was where I was headed before...well, before a couple of really crazy things happened yesterday."

  Wearing a look of dawning understanding, Tracy moved her head in a single slow nod. "Oh...now I understand why you don't really seem thrilled last night. And don't worry...your secret's safe with...." She suddenly paused, frowning. "Wait...Nashville?"

  Horrifying me, because I still didn't want Nick and Blaine to know exactly where I was headed, Tracy had said Nashville fairly loudly, causing everyone to suddenly stop their conversations and look at us. And before I could think of some story or cover for why Nashville had come up in Tracy's and my conversation, she looked at me, frowning hard, and spoke again.

  "But Kathy told me yesterday that Nashville was...." With her pale skin inexplicably turning bright red, Tracy suddenly swallowed and shifted her gaze from my face to Kathy's across the log circle. "What you told me about Nashville, Kathy...that was right...right?"

  "Yes, it was. Why?"

  "Well, because Eva just said...well...." With her face reddening even further, Tracy swallowed again and returned her gaze to my face. "I'm sorry. I'm just being weird. There's nothing wrong with Nashville. Well, something might be wrong with it, but it may be best to just kind of ease you-"

  "Ease me into what? What are you talking about? What's wrong with Nashville?"

  Scarlet-faced, Tracy winced. "I'm so sorry."

  Something about the look in her eyes made me think that she was sorry for more than just her gaffe in letting the entire group know that we were discussing Nashville.

  With my heartbeat hammering in my ears, I forced myself to ask Tracy a couple more questions, though not sure at all that I wanted to know the answers. "What's wrong with Nashville, Tracy? Did something happen to the city?"

  Before she could answer, Kathy did. And even though I had strong suspicions that something cataclysmic had happened in Nashville, even beyond the virus, nothing could have prepared me for what she said.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Nashville was leveled by an atomic bomb about a week after the virus hit. No one survived." Pausing, Kathy sighed quietly. "The virus was particularly bad there, hardly leaving anyone alive, and the government thought they could contain the spread to other cities by blowing up the whole city.”

  When I'd spoken to Jessica on the phone, it had been just about a week after the virus had hit. I recalled how our conversation had been cut short by the phone service suddenly going out, and I wondered if she and Ebony had died right then. Right at that second, before I'd even left my apartment, before I'd even taken a single step in my nearly two-year journey to reunite with them.

  Surprisingly, I didn't feel much of anything. So, it turned out they were dead. So, it turned out that my journey of nearly two years had all been for nothing. That was life. Sometimes, skating collisions happened. Sometimes, people died during an apocalypse and their loved ones didn't even know it. Contrary to feeling any sort of strong emotion, I just felt the distinct lack of it, and if my chest had been hollowed out and filled with air.

  With my heartbeat now having slowed, I stood, still holding my coffee mug, and just kind of addressed the group at large. "I'm going to go finish my coffee in my tent right now. Please don't anyone follow me."

  Accidentally dumping her coffee in the dirt, Tracy leaped up. "No, I'll go with you. I'll just sit with you in case you-"

  "No, Tracy, please. I just...I just need to go sit in the tent by myself now. Someone just please let me know when it's time to tear the tents down and leave. I'll go to Helena now, and I won't ever try to escape. I have nowhere else to go now. Nowhere else I need to get to."

  Leaving numerous expressions of surprise and confusion in my wake, I began walking over to the tents, almost immediately hearing Tracy burst into tears, choking out a few sobs before speaking.

  "It was her sisters...she thought they were still alive down in Nashville. She's been trying to get to them for almost two years."

  My knee-jerk reaction was to backtrack and comfort crying Tracy, telling her that it was all fine, that I really felt nothing. However, by the time she'd finished speaking, I was already nearly to the tents, and my legs were suddenly feeling leaden, like maybe they wouldn't carry me back to the log circle. I really just wanted to sit down.

  In the tent, I sipped my coffee, thinking that I really should have expected something like this. An atomic bomb hadn't specifically crossed my mind, but I'd realized full well that there were a million different ways for people to not survive an apocalypse. I'd known that Jessica and Ebony could get sick, or get murdered, or get turned into Huskers by Huskers.

  I'd known all that in my head. However, I'd never really let my heart believe that they were anything other than fine and well, surviving in Nashville somehow, maybe with the help of a group of other survivors. In order to keep going every day, in order to simply keep putting one foot in front of the other at times, I just hadn't been able to allow myself to think otherwise.

  Sometimes it had seemed similar to Olympic training to me, the way I'd kept my eyes on the prize, not allowing myself to expect anything less than gold. This time, though, I'd lost something a little more important than a golden disc.

  I couldn't believe that I hadn't heard about Nashville during my travels, but then again, I kind of could. I'd only rarely had contact with other travelers, and even then, they'd all been heading south from the north, like me, or had been traveling west to east, or east to west.

  Many of them, I hadn't told I was heading to Nashville, not fully trusting most people and not wanting to be followed. As far as the people that I had told about my ultimate destination, if any of them had heard about Nashville, they hadn't told me, and it was possible that like me, none of my fellow travelers had known. It wasn't like there had been any television, radio, or internet service at the time Nashville had been blown up.

  I should have been crying. I knew it. I felt strange that I wasn't. I felt somehow disrespectful to my sisters. But, sipping my coffee while trying to cry, I found that I just couldn't. I thought that maybe Blaine was right. Maybe I really was an ice queen, because I truly felt nothing. Nothing more than a sense of having been hollowed out inside somehow.

  I really hadn't felt much emotion since the day I'd left the ice rink back in Detroit, pretty much because I just hadn't allowed myself to. I'd known that in order for me to complete my mission to Nashville, I was going to have to be tough as nails, not breaking down and weeping every single time I missed my family. Between Huskers, dangerous men, and my ever-present tendency to become squeamish and panicky, like when I'd accidentally cut my hand with the knife, I knew I already had enough things to deal with on my journey.

  Really, one of the only times I could even remember becoming a bit emotional on my journey had been when I'd cut my hand. Although it hadn't been right then, but the day after, when Chris had given me the four-leaf-clover. And there might have been a time or two other than that, but for the most part, I'd remained stoic on my journey, not allowing myself to feel sadness and despair, even though at times, I could feel these emotions bubbling up somewhere just below the surface of my heart.

  I'd just set my empty mug on the ground when Nick came inside the tent, ducking to avoid hitting his head.

  "Hey. I know you said you want to be alone, but
I just wanted to see how you're-"

  "I'm completely fine. And thank you. I really just want to be alone for a few more minutes, though."

  "Well-"

  "Sometimes people just get slashed in the leg at the Olympics, Nick. Or thirty miles away from Nashville or however far we are. You just get stitched up and go back out on the ice. So, that's what I'm going to do. Just give me another minute, and I'll start helping to tear down all the tents."

  Nick frowned down at me, then raked a hand through his thick dark hair. "Well, if you need anything, will you please-"

  "I'll come get you. I promise. I'm perfectly fine, though, and I'm going to continue to be."

  Looking incredibly dubious, Nick raked a hand through his hair again, frowning. "Please come get me if you need anything. Really. Please."

  He then left the tent, leaving me to try to make myself cry again, but it was no use. I just couldn't. Honestly, I felt much more like laughing for some reason, because it was kind of funny how I'd wasted nearly two years of my life working toward some pointless goal that hadn't even been possible since day one.