Voices of Dragons

19

The Alpine diner was more crowded than Kay thought it would be. Many people had left town entirely, other families were keeping their kids at home, and with the curfew and all the cops out, she wasn’t sure anyone would be around. But it was the usual crowd; Kay recognized most of the faces. It wasn’t like there were that many places to go in Silver River, and everyone was probably stir-crazy from worrying. From hearing the sirens, from watching for dragons, and from wondering when the rest of Silver River would burn.

She felt strange being around so many people after she’d been at home for so long. While it would have been nice to lose herself in the crowd, to be anonymous and not have anyone scrutinizing her, when she entered the diner, a momentary hush fell. Faces turned toward her, stared, and quickly looked away. A few people gave her tight-lipped, pitying smiles.

Sca

“Are you okay?” He kept his hand on her arm, holding her.

No, of course she wasn’t, on so many levels. But she couldn’t explain it all right now. She glanced away and blinked to try to keep her eyes from watering. Jon rubbed her shoulder, awkwardly, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. She wasn’t sure either. Part of her wanted to stay close to him, crying, letting him hold her. But she couldn’t afford to do that right now.

“It’s just been tough,” she said finally.

She had considered her problem: Somehow, she had to get her gear to Artegal. But a government sedan was parked outside the house all the time, which meant as soon as she lugged out her climbing gear, Branigan’s people would know she was pla

She trusted Jon. But she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t freak out when she told him. Not that she could blame him. Anyone would freak out.

The waitress came and took their orders. Jon got a hamburger; Kay wasn’t hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hungry or what that felt like. She ordered fries and a Coke just to be eating something and tried to think about how to tell Jon what she needed.

“How’s your mom?” he asked, after the silence that followed the waitress’s departure.

Upset, Kay thought. Upset about Dad, about the fact her only daughter had been consorting with dragons, about her life’s work going down the tubes. Like everything else, it was too much to explain. She shrugged instead.

“Oh my God, you guys are here!” Tam raced over to their booth from the front door. Her eyes were wide. “Are you okay?” she demanded.

Kay was going to get sick of that question. Resigned, she nodded. “About as well as can be expected.”

Tam slid into the seat across from her and gazed at Kay as if the world were ending.

“Where’s Carson?” Jon asked. Tam’s seat looked very empty without Carson squished in beside her. At that, Tam’s face scrunched up, and she started crying. Now it was Kay’s turn to hold her hand.

“His family left,” she said, sniffing around the words. “He didn’t want to go, he was going to stay behind, but they wouldn’t let him. They’re going to stay with family in Colorado until this is all over, but who knows when that’s going to be?”

Kay moved into the seat next to her and hugged her while she sobbed.

Tam went on, “I shouldn’t be this upset. It’s not like what you’re going through with your dad. It’s not like I’ll never see him again, but I just can’t stand that he’s gone!”

Kay wouldn’t miss Carson like Tam would. But looking at the empty booth, seeing Tam all by herself and not kissing her boyfriend—it was more evidence of just how far from normal everything had gotten. Kay wondered if things would ever feel normal again.

“My folks are waiting to see what happens,” Jon said. “Until there’s an official evacuation, we’re staying.”

Kay felt a lurch at the thought of Jon leaving. She wondered if he would stay, if she asked him to.

“Even if you did leave, I’m not sure anywhere’s really safe,” Kay said. Not that it would make anyone feel better.

“What does your mom say?” Tam asked, wiping her face and recovering. “Are you guys going to leave?”

“I don’t think we’ll ever leave,” she said. Everything they had was here. Everything they had left. And Artegal—she should tell them. Right now, she should tell them. But she’d been keeping the secret so long, the habit was hard to break.

They fell quiet, and then their food came. Tam only got a soda. Kay shared her fries, but none of them was really enthusiastic about eating.

Tam glanced around, then leaned in to tell Kay, “That’s so rude, how people are looking at you.”

Kay shrugged it off. “I guess I’m kind of famous because of my dad.”

Another moment of silence. Jon took her hand. “It’s still rude.”

Kay had too much on her mind to think about it. Let them stare. If her plan went off, she was going to be even more famous—even though that’s not why she was doing it.

Tam’s phone rang. It was her mother wanting her to come home. Kay couldn’t remember Tam’s mother ever calling her when they were out. Tam’s mother seemed to operate on the benign neglect theory of parenting. But now she was worried.

Tam hugged them both tightly and left.

Kay didn’t have much time left to tell Jon. It was already six. “You want to get out of here?” she asked.

Jon seemed willing to do whatever she wanted. They paid their check and left.

“What are we doing, Kay?”

She looked around, and sure enough, across the street a dark sedan was parked. She could just make out a pair of men in the front seat. They weren’t doing anything.

“You want to go for a hike somewhere? Maybe out by Red Hill?” That was a trailhead on the other side of the town from the border. If the military guys didn’t think she was ru

“It’s a little late, isn’t it?”

The sun was setting—they had another hour of twilight before the sky turned completely dark. She had a flashlight in her glove box.

“I just want to get out of town for a little while.”

He shrugged. “Your car or mine?”

“Both. Can you follow me?”

She was grateful that he wasn’t asking questions. He looked like he wanted to. As she pulled out of the Alpine parking lot, she kept an eye on the sedan. Jon followed her in his hand-me-down truck. They both turned the corner to head out of town to the highway and the Red Hill trailhead. She lost sight of the sedan, but it hadn’t immediately followed them. She breathed a sigh.

Now, they had to hurry.

Fifteen minutes later, she reached the trailhead and pulled into the farthest corner, which was sheltered by trees and mostly dark. Flashlight in hand, she opened the back of the Jeep before Jon had fully parked.

She double-checked the coils of climbing rope, the nylon straps and carabiners, her harness, and the duffel bag with her extra winter clothes and chemical hand warmers, making sure for the tenth time that everything was there.

“Kay, what’s going on?” Jon said, coming to join her. He saw the gear, and his expression became even more confused. “What are you doing? You don’t actually want to go climbing right now—”