Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) (26 page)

Something hit him hard from behind.

Hugh went down, the boulder falling out of his arms. His body careened into a pile of leaves. The boulder slammed down on his leg with a sickening crack. Pain like white lightening shot up his leg and speared through his whole body. He cried out, arching his back, reaching for his leg which was now buried under six feet of solid rock.

The beast stalked out of the shadows.

Throbbing pain like ten foot waves crashed over him until he felt he would drown. He shook his head and swiveled his neck to stare the thing in the face. God, it was horrible, the knobby, angled skull, the matted mane around its head reeking of animal waste. Its red eyes slitted to half-moons as if sensing a meal. Then it slowly opened its mouth and flashed rows and rows of dripping fangs.

Hugh pushed on the boulder with his ebbing strength. Pain shot through his body, turning the world gray. He slapped his face. He could not pass out with this thing hovering over him. He slapped once more, clearing his vision, and pushed his hands against solid rock.

The boulder rocked forward and another crunch rocketed up his mangled leg. Pain exploded in his brain like a bomb. He fell back, fighting to stay conscious. He was pinned. Finished.

A low, rumbling growl rolled over Hugh, sending pin-pricks of fear down his limbs. The beast stood over him and spread its claws.

I'm dead
he thought. He swung his fists wildly a couple of times, but it was no use. The beast was out of range. When it opened its mouth again, revealing razor sharp teeth curling outward like scimitars, it seemed to be smiling.

The pain began turning to a warm numbness that radiated up Hugh's body. His head throbbed as though his heart had replaced his brain. He shook the drowsiness away. He flashed his teeth at the beast in challenge. “What're you going to do, kill me?! Well, then kill me!”

The beast hovered above for a moment. Then it bolted away through the shadows.

CHAPTER THIR
TY-EIGHT —  CECE

Friday 6:46 a.m.

Cece woke to someone pounding on the front door.

Her eyes flew open, a wide panic stretching over her body. Morning light filtered in from Travis's smoke-glazed kitchen window. Her eyes locked on the front door. The knuckles sounded again. Harder.

Travis skidded out of his bedroom, tugging on a pair of jeans. He shot a terrified glance at Cece, waved at her to stay out of sight and peered out the peephole. 

“
Oh shit,” he said. “Get in my room.” He reached down and unlocked the door.

Cece stood upright, dragging the blanket with her. She was in a tank top and jean shorts. She had no idea where her shoes were. If it was the cops, she was done for. She scrambled toward Travis's bedroom as the door flew open.

Michelle burst through the entryway. “I wanted to talk to you before work. I need to know…” She stopped, eyes locked on Cece halfway in the bedroom, a blanket around her waist. Shock flashed on Michelle's face as if someone had just tossed a bucket of water at her. Her fists balled up. Her cheeks reddened.

“
You
slept
with her?” she screamed. She whirled on Travis. “You took
me
out to a movie and then you came back and had sex with
her
?”

Travis shook his head, holding his palms up in defense. “No, no, no. Cece just crashed here.”

Michelle folded her arms across her chest and flashed a set of white teeth. “Spare me.” She shot a venomous glance at Cece. “I knew you were trash,” she said, “but I didn't know you were a whore, too.”

Cece took a step forward. “You can't call me that!”

“I just did.” Michelle narrowed her eyes. “You know, my daddy really hates shoplifting.” Michelle paused, studying Cece's face. “He prosecutes those criminals to the full extent of the law.”

Cece dropped her jaw. “You!” she said, as the realization crested over her like a cold wave. “You heard me talking to my mother at Lizzy's. You knew she'd shoplifted.” Her blood began to boil. “You turned her in and used your dad's connections to lock her up.”

Michelle shrugged, smirking.

Cece strode up and slapped her face.

Michelle staggered back, clutching her cheek. Then she lunged for Cece, hands clawed. “Bitch, I'll kill you!”

The girls grappled, stumbling around Travis's apartment, knocking over the coffee table with a crash. Cece grabbed a fistful of blond ponytail and yanked. Michelle yowled like a cat and dug fingernails into Cece's arm.

Travis yanked Michelle back, dragging the girls apart. “Stop it. Stop.” He held Michelle in his arms as she thrashed and lunged for Cece. “Ladies, let's not fight. At least, not without the jello.”

The joke fell flat as the two girls shot eye-daggers at each other.

Michelle ran a trembling hand over her destroyed ponytail. “You dirty, trailer-trash bitch. If you lay another finger on me—”

Cece raised a fist. “Come here and I'll hit you again.”

Michelle ripped her cellphone out of her pocket and began punching numbers. “Let's see what the police have to say about this.”

“
Michelle, stop!” Travis scrambled for the phone in Michelle's hands. Cece didn't have time to watch. She grabbed her shoes, shouldered past them and sprinted out the door.

She took the apartment stairs two at a time. She stumbled once, wrenching her sore ankle, which instantly began throbbing again. She gritted her teeth and ran.
Hugh,
she thought. She had to find him. Would he be waiting for her in the shadows like he always was?

She skidded around the side of the apartment complex, dodging a broken beer bottle. The alleyway between two buildings was thick with morning shadow. She turned in. It would give her cover from the road while she thought. She pressed her back to the warm brick and turned her eyes to the clouds. How could she find Hugh? He said he'd be waiting at the trailer park, but she couldn't go back there. Fer. She dug in her pocket for her cellphone, but her hand came up empty. It must've slipped out of her pocket when she was sleeping on the couch.

“Dammit,” she whispered, flicking her eyes to the street. The alleyway opened up to the parking lot and after that the main road. The forest waited on the other side. She could run across and into tree cover. From there, she'd circle back to the trailer park and hope Hugh would find her. It was her only shot.

A shape streaked down from the sky and landed in front of her, sending the trash skittering in all directions.
Hugh!
Her heart soared. The boy uncurled himself and lifted his head.

Not Hugh. Nomad. Though similar in appearance and build, Nomad's expression was fused with sarcasm and shifting eyes, much different than Hugh's beautiful, wide open smile. All good feelings drained away. She stepped back, clutching the brick, her heart pounding.

Nomad smiled smugly at her. He tossed back a lock of dark hair and raised an eyebrow. “Whoa, mama, could you use a shower.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to tremble. “What do you want, Nomad?” Her eyes flicked to the road. Clearly he could fly like Hugh. Did he have other powers as well? Could she make it across the street before he pounced?

Nomad took a step closer. He was wearing jeans, brand new sneakers and a Pacer's t-shirt with crisp lines from where it had been folded and sitting in a store window. He closed the gap between them, his eyes still on her. She shivered and shot a glance to the sky.

“
Your boy isn't coming.” Nomad followed her eyes up to the clouds. “Busy. Sorry. Maybe later you two can rendezvous. That's what you lovers say, right? A little
rendezvous
.” He threw on a French accent and twiddled his fingers.

“
If you touch him, I'll—”

“
Oh, Cece— Mind if I call you Cece?” he asked, digging a bag of sunflower seeds out of his pocket. She watched as he pried open the bag with his teeth and tipped a large portion of seeds into his mouth. He paused, crunching, and offered her the bag. “Want some?” She shook her head. Nomad shrugged and continued. “Cece, listen, I wanna help you out here. You've got spunk. It's kinda cute.” Shells rained from his teeth as he spoke, a few curling on his chin like fingernail clippings. “But all this
sass
,” he waved his hand in the air, “is gonna get you killed, honey lamb.” He spit a few seeds to the pavement. When he raised his eyes again, there were darker, colder. “I want you to understand,” he stepped closer and grabbed her wrist. She struggled back, but his grip was iron, his hand a vice. He stared into her eyes. She could smell the wind on him and something else. Something animal. He gripped her harder. She winced. “He's got you thinking you're special,” Nomad said, revealing perfect, white teeth. “But you're not. You're a complication. An annoyance. And hanging around us is going to get you killed.” He squeezed harder. Pain flared up her arm.

“
Stop!” she said, scrambling back, her shoes scuffing into the brick. 

“
But, doll face, if I stop, you'll never learn.” He pouted his lower lip. “It's like a wild dog, yeah? Get bitten once and you won't put your hands near its mouth again.”

She shook her head back and forth, the brick scraping against her skull. Her fingers were blue. Her arm was speckled red.

He smiled then, unable to control himself. “It's for your own good.” Then he wrenched her hand back, way, way too far. 

There was a sickening pop. Cece gasped. White hot pain snapped from her wrist to her brain, blocking out all thought. Her knees sagged. Pain pulsed into her head. She slumped down the wall.

“See,” Nomad said, as he wrapped his arms around her chest and pulled her upright.  “Now you know we bite. Even Hugh. He'll bite when the time comes.”

Her body sagged against Nomad's as her mind floated somewhere out of reach, out of the pain that
throbbed, throbbed, throbbed
at the back of her mind. Suddenly, she felt a searing heat on her skin. Her eye's snapped open to see Nomad burning a shape into the brick with…his eyes?! Oh God, she was going to die.

Nomad pushed up, lifting Cece with him. Her sneakers scraped against the pavement, then paddled through open air. They took off, shooting into the sky.

CHAPTER THIR
TY-NINE — HUGH

Friday 7:01 a.m.

Hugh hobbled toward the apartments in the dim morning light as his leg stitched itself back together. The pain was awful, but he kept himself occupied by following the scent of strawberry shampoo. It was faint, but when he honed his mind, the scent was there like a thin ribbon drawing him to her. He glanced around at the apartments: the busted front windows, the spray-painted dumpster. A baby cried in an upstairs window and someone was either vacuuming or drying their hair. The rest of the windows were shut or humming with AC units. A willowy old man sat on a stoop three buildings down, puffing on a cigarette. Hugh smelled burnt bacon, motor oil and garbage. What was Cece doing in this seedy complex? 

Her scent led to a door propped open with a rock. Hugh lumbered up the rickety stairs, pain spiking at every step, but it was duller now. His broken foot seemed to be totally healed, and the shin, too. His femur still felt brittle as glass, but he focused on her scent, the strawberry smell close now, sending tingles up his spine. He found the door and knocked, not sure what to expect.

A boy flung the door open. As soon as he saw him, his face fell. Hugh recognized him now, Travis from the ice cream shop. He looked awful, hair disheveled, pants sagging over dirty boxers, a red welt forming on one cheek. 

“
What you want?” Travis asked, glaring at Hugh. Then, slowly, his face morphed into a look of panic, his jaw dropping. “You … you're the psycho dude!” He shoved the door closed.

Hugh thrust his foot in the gap, the door slamming against his toes and jangling open. Then he shouldered into the door, helping it snap back. Travis stumbled backwards, skidding to his butt on the dirty carpet.

“Where is she?” Hugh said, striding in, looking around. Some of the anger from the forest had followed him. If this boy had done anything to her... He shook his head, trying to clear the anger away. If he didn't calm down, he could hurt someone. Bad. “Where is she?” he repeated.

Travis jumped up, the veins on his neck pulsing. “I'm not gonna tell you.” His wide eyes flicked toward a cellphone on the coffee table.

Hugh shook his head, striding forward, arms flexed. Travis backed up, his eyes widening. Hugh towered over him, eyes slitted. “You're not going to call anyone.” Realizing fear would get him nowhere, he took a deep breath and lightened his tone. “Look, I'm not here to hurt her. I'm here to protect her. She's in danger.”

“
Yeah, from you!” Travis shouted. He balled up his fist, reached back and socked Hugh in the face.

It felt like a child's punch, but anger burst from Hugh's chest anyway. Before he knew it, he had his hands around Travis's scrawny neck and was lifting him into the air.

Travis's legs wheeled, one bare foot catching Hugh in the stomach. His hands circled Hugh's wrists, scratching and clawing. His eyes bulged behind the clump of greasy blond hair that had fallen over his eyes. None of it stopped Hugh. Anger vined through his brain, snaked through his synapses, blocked out thought. He slammed Travis into the wall, the drywall denting. This boy wanted Cece. Hugh wanted to smash. To tear.