Merritts of Writing 3

Chapter 7

Jam

As the first born child of the Sky family my role as a big brother is to watch over and protect my younger siblings. The day the canisters fell, I was only able to save one.

Since then I’ve dedicated my life to ensuring my two surviving younger sisters remained safe. I’ve put my life in danger many times to see that they came to no harm. This time was no different. Only it was.

I’d succeeded in saving Emmalee, but only barely. Would I be there the next time she or Angie needed me? I had a strong feeling…I would not.

HOURS LATER

I don’t know how long I was out. The half dazed state I’d been in since Donahue had stuck a hypodermic needle into my ass, before cutting me open and attempting to repair the damage that the Prayers’ spikes had done to my internal organs, hadn’t faded much.

I can’t say if I slept. Perhaps I dozed. Mostly I’d lay half awake, listening.

I couldn’t move. Not a muscle. I hoped for my sake that it was the heavy-duty tranks Donahue had pumped into my body. I couldn’t be sure.

The only thing I did feel was the unpleasant sensation of Stevron’s blood intermingling with my own every time he sat down to give me another one of his ‘treatments’. I really couldn’t complain for his blood was what was keeping me alive. For now.

My only consolation was that the uncomfortable coldness, like the icy itchy tingle of frostbite, that I felt travelling through my veins indicated that whatever magic power he carried in his blood was working. I didn’t know how to thank the guy enough.

My sister Emmalee, in the bed next to me, had finally quieted. The poor kid had cried herself to sleep. I hadn’t wanted to hear her tearful conversation with my other sister Angie. I hadn’t much choice.

Em was mad. More than mad, she was furious, for not being told the truth. I was as much to blame as my sister Angie and our father. None of us had wanted to tell Em that both Angie and I were dying. That at the rate we were ageing, neither of us had many more years in us.

Em’s fury toward Carter was something I didn’t quite understand. She blamed him. For what I couldn’t tell you. It was strong. A force of pure hatred I’d never witnessed in my youngest sister before. Surely she couldn’t be that angry for Carter not telling her who he was? There had to be more. I just couldn’t figure out what.

No one had ever expected Em to regain her sight. Therefore telling her who Carter was served no purpose.

To our knowledge she’d never heard Carter speak. Her only exposure to the teenage kid, before the canisters fell, had been in the form of seeing him in glossy magazine pictures. Sometimes in the background of a viewing screen entertainment news piece.

It did bother me, however, that Carter must have known when he decided to have Em break the fyre eggs that she’d recognize him once she’d seen his face. That she’d blame him for what his father had done. I know I did, for a while. Until I got to know Carter better.

Therefore I had to admire Carter for what he did. He sacrificed his happiness to save myself and my sister and I was truly thankful. Angie though hadn’t eased Em’s sense of betrayal. In fact she had agreed that Carter had been wrong in lying to her. That made me angry.

Yeah, Carter had a lot to atone for, especially where Em was concerned. Still, Angie shouldn’t have been so quick to throw Carter to the Larcore. He’d only been a kid back then…and well you couldn’t choose who your parents were.

And his family as it turned out hadn’t been the only family involved in the backstabbing plan to ruin my father’s reputation, only the most vocal and visible. Considering what happened to most of those other families once the canisters fell, I can’t say I hold much of a grudge.

If Dad hadn’t been incarcerated, then Mom would have never been forced to move us out of the city. The city was destroyed the day the canisters fell and we would have been killed if we had still lived there. And then there was the fact that Carter lost his whole family that day. What else is there to say?

When he walked back into our lives, none of us were too happy to see the kid again. To be reminded of what his family had done and what we’d lost. Only Carter wasn’t a child anymore. Sure he didn’t look much older than sixteen, but he’d matured far beyond…well any of us.

Now after having been with our family for three years, Carter’s world was crashing down around him. I felt sorry for the guy.

The smell of mint tickled my nose. Time for another ‘treatment’ already? I asked myself. It didn’t seem that long ago since the last one. Was my time coming so fast?

Stevron sat down in the chair between Em’s cot and mine. Instead of feeling the icy cold flash of Stevron’s blood coursing into my body, I heard the distinct clack of a bushberry against Stevron’s teeth as he crunched the hard orb.

I tried to open my eyes. They were heavy. I tried to move my lips. I could not.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Jam,” he said, “I’ve got bad news.”

My stomach tensed. He was going to tell me I wasn’t going to make it. That his blood was no longer healing me. No, I shook myself, Stevron wouldn’t be the one to tell me I was about to die. He’d leave that to family. My father or possibly Angie.

“Your father still hasn’t returned and we lost his homing signal about an hour ago. Carter says it could just mean that the fyre egg hatched. I’ve got to tell you, I have a bad feeling.”

So did I.

“Anyway, if he or any of his crew haven’t made it back by morning, Angie, Donahue, and me are going to head out. After what happened in the cave with the dead bodies and the Prayers we want to make sure that some form of accident hasn’t happened to them.”

Em’s voice reached my ears. “Let Carter go. Jam needs your blood.”

I heard Stevron shift in his chair. I tried to move my head. I could not. The smell of mint wafted away.

“Hey, don’t worry, Little Sis, I’ll leave a pint of my magic behind. Dirk can see that Jam gets it. I’ll be back before it runs out.”

“Promise?”

“You betcha,” Stevron assured my siser, “I promise.”