Page 15 of Elemental Hunger


  I edged out of the boxcar and adjusted my foot along the track. I pressed into the boxcar, clinging to the slats to keep myself from falling. I inched along, aware that Adam and Isaiah were waiting for me. With only two feet to go, I slipped.

  My heart leaped to my throat, and I stifled a curse. My fingers scrabbled for hold and found it on a crooked corner of wood. I paused, breathing hard and leaning into the car as much as possible.

  “Just a little further,” Hanai said.

  The track beneath my feet shifted as someone joined me. I didn’t turn my head to look, pressed as I was into the boxcar. I shuffled, shuffled and then threw my hand toward Hanai’s. He grabbed me, providing some steadiness, and I jumped toward the ladder.

  “I hate this,” I muttered to myself as Hanai pulled his legs onto the roof. I followed him up the ladder, and only had to jump a few inches to reach the top, where I hauled myself up.

  Breathing hard, I managed to calm my pulse as I flattened myself next to Hanai, whose normally bronze face had turned pale. “I’m not feeling as good as I thought,” he said. I knew exactly what he meant, and I hadn’t been sick for days.

  When Adam and Isaiah joined us, we slithered toward the end of the car. Hanai balanced on the balls of his feet and stepped across the gap between boxcars. I followed him, lying down and shimmying forward again.

  The steel beneath my hands felt like ice, cold and slippery. I tried to keep my breath from billowing out in white clouds, but it was impossible.

  We formed a single-file line, stomach-crawling and then stepping across gaps until the train lurched forward again. I fell hard, tasting blood when my chin hit the metal. I stifled a whimper and a curse and kept moving as the train eased into the warehouse. I followed Hanai across three more boxcars, feeling a sense of dread the further into the building we went.

  “No more cars,” Adam said.

  I peered over his shoulder. The next car had no roof. Instead, a heaping pile of wheat filled the hopper.

  “In we go,” Adam said, sounding every bit as tired as I felt. “Wheat, Isaiah. Go through, man.” He stepped into the grain and started to wade across the car. He pushed the kernels to the sides with his arms, literally swimming through.

  Isaiah stepped off next, sinking to his waist as the kernels slid to the side to make room for him. When he was halfway across, Hanai muttered, “Magic alive,” and plunged into the hopper. He struggled there for a few heartbeats before gaining forward momentum, scooping the wheat out of his way with cupped hands.

  I perched on the lip of the car, placing my feet on the kernels to test stability. They shifted, but held. Instead of jumping in with both feet—like a blazing boy—I knelt, slowly. The grain groaned, but didn’t swallow me up to my waist.

  I looked up to see Adam watching me, a strange glint—respect, maybe?—in his eyes. I crawled across the sea of gold without getting so much as a single kernel in my shoes.

  “Atta girl,” Adam murmured. He turned. “Crawl, Isaiah. Then we don’t have to swim.”

  “Most excellent, Gabbers.”

  We must’ve looked like ants crawling over a golden picnic blanket. Still, after seven hoppers, I’d had enough.

  “Can’t we get down?” I asked, eyeing the ladder on the end of the car.

  “Too many eyes,” Adam whispered, following Hanai and Isaiah into yet another mass of wheat.

  “Where are we going anyway?” My arms burned and my eyes felt like I’d rubbed sand in them.

  Adam turned back to answer, but someone spoke before he could.

  “She’s here. Alex can feel the girl’s power.”

  “I don’t see how, Felix,” a man argued. “The guards said none of the passengers reported anything. All the cars were searched. There was no one Elemental.”

  I flattened myself on top of the wheat, alone with only the pounding of my pulse.

  “Search the boxcars again. Unload this wheat while I find the foreman. She’s here,” Felix said. Heavy footsteps moved away, and I was thankful Felix would never lower himself enough to unload a train.

  A beep sounded and a mechanical voice said, “Backing up.” In the next moment, the train lurched into motion.

  “More…a little more,” the man said, his voice coming from directly behind me now. The train stopped, but I didn’t dare move. A loud clanking noise echoed through the murky building. I clapped my hands over my ears and still the screeching didn’t fade.

  More footsteps. Another clanking shriek. This time, I heard a faint rushing, like water falling over a slope.

  More footsteps, then another metallic banshee was released. The noise grew louder, more pronounced. I heard the pinging of the wheat on something metal. I figured out what was happening just as the footsteps stopped.

  I reached for the lip of the hopper as the deafening clank sounded. I missed the edge and slid further into the wheat. It buried me as it rushed out of the bottom of the car.

  Life inside the hopper: No air, no sound, no time. Only darkness and wheat—tons and tons of wheat.

  In my ears.

  My shirt.

  My nose.

  I broke the surface of the wheat, gasping for breath. Sand-like particles filled my lungs and stung my eyes. I scrambled, desperate to go up instead of down. The walls of the car sloped inward. The kernels rushed down, taking me with them. They banked in the center of the hopper, sliding away quicker on the two ends. I determined that there were two slots, maybe long enough to fit someone my height. No way Isaiah would fit his broad shoulders through either one.

  I grappled my way through the kernels to the front of the hopper. I had no way of knowing what lay beneath the train, or where the others were, or if Felix had returned with the foreman.

  The pinging grew louder. The wheat flowed faster. I covered my face with my hands as the slot became visible.

  I banged my elbow as I fell through the bottom of the car. My feet jammed on the middle bar and my shoulders landed on the grate beneath the train as I exited head first. I tasted my own blood again and looked beyond the slats in the grate to find an endless sea of grain in a warehouse under the train tracks.

  Wheat rained down on me as I pulled my feet through. I rolled away from the side of the train where Felix had been talking. At least I tried. The flaps of the hopper blocked me and I had to scoot to the middle to slide around them.

  Under the train, I could barely lift my head off the metal grate. All I could see: Cement.

  I breathed through my nose, the chaff from the wheat lodging in the back of my throat. I gagged and hit my back on the rough underbelly of the train.

  I tried to hold back the surge of panic. My fire crept upward in response to my fear. A beep sounded, seemingly next to me. I sucked in a breath and held it.

  “I’m just closing the chutes now. Be there in a minute.” The man cranked something, and I clapped my hands over my ears as the deafening squeal of metal on metal screamed six inches above my head.

  The flaps clanked shut, and the man moved to the next car. I couldn’t stay under the train forever; it would move soon. Still, I hesitated. What if Felix waited on this side of the train? What if the foreman had an office over here? When the chutes on the next hopper cranked, I rolled out from under the train.

  A small table stood nearby, with an empty chair next to it. Beyond that stretched a vacant warehouse. I didn’t see anyone, so I stumbled past the table, heading for a dark doorway to my left. I ducked into the shadows and pressed my back against the wall.

  Breathing hard, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Just as I was about to get up, someone called, “Twelve hoppers unloaded, sir.”

  “Good,” Felix said. “Search the cars again.” He sounded so bossy, like I’d find him sitting in a chair, delivering commands and expecting them to be followed.

  “Hello, Felix,” another man said, his footsteps growing louder and louder.

  I dodged behind a desk as he came in. When I sensed the firemaking Ele
ment in him, I buried my own spark deep inside, praying he didn’t have the ability to sense it. He moved to the desk and picked something up.

  “Rev, you see anyone new in line today?” Felix asked, following the man into the room. The nearness of his voice made me freeze.

  “Nobody special,” Rev responded. “You looking for someone specific?”

  “A Firemaker. You see one, you send them to me.”

  “And you’ll be….”

  “Available via radio. Call me immediately if you find a Firemaker—or any Elemental.” Felix marched out, leaving no room for negotiation. Above me, papers rustled and then Rev left the room.

  I couldn’t move. The train pulled out, and still I cowered under the desk. Finally, I crept toward the door. The sun had fully risen, and the front of the building blazed with natural light. The rest of the warehouse appeared abandoned, the empty train track running down the center. I strode toward the light, thinking if I could just make it there, I could find somewhere to hide, somewhere to make a plan to find the others. Just as I stepped into the sunlight, someone spoke.

  “Are you here for day work?” The voice: Felix’s.

  I stopped, nearly tripping over the air. Without turning around I said, “Yes, sir.” The sound scratched in my throat. I suppressed the cough threatening to explode out. I pulled my hood up.

  He stepped in front of me, the weight of his stare heavy. I didn’t dare move around him, but I didn’t want him scrutinizing me either. I kept my eyes trained on the ground. Finally, he said, “Go to your left and around the orchard until you see a man wearing a blue hat. Hurry up, or the jobs will be gone.”

  I didn’t give him any more time to discover who I was. “Thank you, sir.” I forced myself to walk to the corner of the building.

  Then I ran. I didn’t go around the orchard, but directly into it. See, I needed to find my Council. My stomach rumbled. Finding food and staying alive also topped my list.

  Once in the thick of the orchard, I felt safe enough to stop. I climbed a tree, plucking an unripe apple on the way up. As I gnawed through it, I scanned my surroundings. The man in the blue hat stood on the edge of the trees. Every few seconds he’d point into the orchard and two people would tromp forward. By the time I finished my almost-apple, the line of day-workers had dwindled. I hadn’t seen anyone from my Council.

  Beyond the orchard, a dirt road led into the city. Buildings towered. Houses squatted. Smoke rose from chimneys. The street leading into Gregorio lay empty. Morning sunlight highlighted the dust particles hanging in the air.

  My presence on the road would be noticed.

  Best thing to do: Wait for quitting time and join the day workers when they headed back into the city. Beyond that, I couldn’t think. If Hanai and Isaiah had stayed with Adam, he’d find them somewhere safe to lay low. I had no idea where Cat might be, if she was still here in Gregorio or not.

  I leaned into the branches of the apple tree. I closed my eyes as my thoughts chased each other, over and around the conversations on the train, who might’ve started the fire at school, where Cat might be, and what Felix meant by Alex can feel the girl.

  I could only come up with one explanation: She knew. The Supremist could sense Firemakers and she knew I was a female Firemaker. I wondered how long she’d known. Long enough to frame me for arson? How far would she go to exterminate me? How much time did she have before a revolution began?

  A haunting melody floated on the wind, interrupting my circulating questions. The music called on the water, urging it to douse the leaves in the trees.

  I smiled. Such a beautiful song. I opened my eyes just as a spray of liquid rained down. I sputtered, wiping the Elemental-influenced water out of my eyes.

  The song began again, just to my left. I almost fell out of the tree when I saw the singer. Her once-golden hair hung in strings. Her once-full cheeks looked waxy and pale. Her blue eyes had lost their life, but beauty still clung to her eyelashes, to her cheekbones, to her delicate footfalls. She wore little more than rags, her once-purple dress mangy and ripped.

  A Watermaiden. Not Cat, but maybe she could tell me where to find my friend.

  At the sound of her voice, water bubbled from the ground, flooding around the trunk of the tree. She smiled as she sang, and a microburst of droplets exploded in the budding branches.

  Halfway through her next melody, I dropped to the ground. She cut off mid-note and turned to look at me.

  I deliberately stood with my feet shoulder-width apart, trying to remember what Adam did with his hands. How Hanai radiated that power from his shoulders. Nothing came. Being a boy was blazing hard work.

  The Watermaiden stood with both feet tucked neatly together—the way I usually did—and a glint of fear in her expression.

  I held up both hands so she’d know I meant her no harm, then offered her a green apple. She eyed it with the gaze of someone who hadn’t eaten for a while. She licked her full lips before looking back at me.

  “You’re not supposed to pick the fruit,” she said.

  “Well, you’re not supposed to use your Element for profit.”

  Her rosy cheeks paled. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “What are you going to do about it?”

  I took a step forward. “Nothing.”

  She studied me, a thoughtful expression on her face. I smiled, trying to ease the fear out of her eyes. “I need your help,” I said.

  She folded her arms. “My help?”

  “Yes.” I snapped my fingers, and a tiny flame erupted along my thumb and forefinger. “I’m looking for a Watermaiden. A girl by the name of Cat.”

  “Cat?”

  The way she said the name with so much familiarity made my heart jump. I held out the apple, positively grinning. “Yes, Cat. Do you know her?”

  The girl looked over her shoulder, as if Cat might materialize right there in the orchard. I glanced around too, suddenly realizing that indeed, Cat might be here.

  “How do you know her?” the Watermaiden asked.

  “She’s a friend of mine from Crylon.”

  That seemed to erase any doubts the Watermaiden had. “She’s here somewhere. Sometimes we get assigned the same section, but I was late today.”

  “But she’s here. In this orchard.” I studied the fruit trees surrounding me, desperate to hear Cat’s voice, see her face.

  “She’s here,” the Watermaiden confirmed.

  “Thank you,” I said, barely refraining from hugging the girl. I didn’t think a boy would do that to a complete stranger. I started down a line of trees.

  “This is a big orchard,” the girl called. “You might not find her.”

  “I’ll find her,” I said over my shoulder, determination landing in every footstep.

  Hours later, I hadn’t found her. The lunch bell had rung a long time ago, and the sun was dipping lower with every step I took. I couldn’t decide if I’d searched this part of the orchard yet, and with Cat moving too, I had no way of locating her.

  I’d encountered only four people in my search, and none of them knew a Cat. I didn’t dare reveal that she was a Watermaiden, and I’d moved on quickly after each visit.

  I’d climbed at least a dozen trees, searching for people from above. I set my hands and feet on another trunk and balanced in the branches as I looked for any movement.

  Nothing.

  Tired and hungry, I slumped in the nook where branch met trunk and pressed my eyes closed. My chest shuddered with the first inklings of my desperation. But I would not allow myself to dissolve into tears.

  I dropped to the ground and brushed off my pants. I looked up into the eyes of a tall man. “Hello,” I said.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “I’m looking for someone,” I said, edging around the tree as the man stepped closer. He blinked, causing me to focus on his eyes. Something wasn’t right with them. The brown color felt too light, and hinted at a shade of unnatural orange.

  “Someone who?” h
e asked, bending over and rustling through the undergrowth in the orchard. I flinched when he brought his arm up, only to find him holding a hose. Water drizzled from the end and he held it closer to the tree.

  “A girl,” I said.

  “Seen lots of girls.” The man stepped to the next tree, stretching the hose as he went.

  I breathed easier with him a few paces away. “This one will be wearing a dress. Long, dark hair.”

  He didn’t look at me as he worked. “Seen someone like her in the north tenth.”

  “Which way is north?” I asked.

  He pointed over his shoulder, back in the direction I’d come. “Thank you,” I said as I sprinted away. The man said something I didn’t hear, but I didn’t care.

  As I ran, people moved in front of me, all heading toward the center of the orchard. It must be time to go home. I pushed my legs faster, hoping to arrive before Cat joined the crowd and got lost again.

  Several yards in front of me, a girl passed through the trees. Her long, dark hair streamed from a ponytail. Her clothes hung in tatters, her once-green dress dirty and torn along the shoulder. She wore no shoes and no coat. She must have been freezing.

  “Cat!” I called.

  Miraculously, the girl stalled, swinging her head toward me. Her round cheeks and penetrating brown eyes held beauty that I knew matched the loveliness of her voice. I stopped a few feet from her, my chest heaving and a smile stretching my face.

  “Cat,” I repeated. My heart leaped to my throat at the sight of her.

  She glanced around, nothing but naked fear residing in her eyes. She shook her head and backed away slowly.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She stopped, her eyes filled with tears. “How do you know my name?”

  “You know my name too,” I said.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. After careful scrutiny of my face and body, her eyes widened. “No.” She pressed one hand over her mouth.