The Saving Grace of Rain

Tomas woke slowly.

The world returned in pieces.

The quiet hum of an idling engine.

Rain tapping against glass.

The faint smell of sugar.

Then he noticed the ice cream.

A paper cup sat in the console between the front seats. Vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.

“If you’re getting ice cream…” he muttered.

“…sprinkles,” Courtney finished.

Tomas opened his eyes.

She sat behind the wheel of a white Ford Taurus, watching him over her shoulder. Red rested upright in the passenger seat, his straps folded tightly across his front.

For a long moment, Tomas stared at them.

“You’re alive.”

Courtney laughed under her breath. “Pretty sure that’s your line.”

One of Red’s straps lifted.

How do you feel?

Tomas tried to sit up.

Pain pulsed through the back of his skull. His ribs tightened, and the inside of the car tilted just enough to make him close his eyes again.

“Like my sister hit me with a metal bar.”

Half sister, Red corrected.

“Thanks. That makes it better.”

I’m here to help.

Tomas opened his eyes.

“Bentley and Vette.”

Courtney’s smile faded.

“They’re gone.”

“With the money?”

“All of it.”

He lowered his head against the seat.

“So they really did it.”

“They left your bag and the armored-truck keys,” Courtney said. “They could have left you with nothing.”

“They knocked me unconscious beside two armed guards.”

“I didn’t say they treated you well.”

Tomas stared through the rain-streaked window.

For one day, he had known what it felt like to belong somewhere. Bentley and Vette had accepted him without asking who he was at school or what everyone else thought of him.

Then they had used him.

Except that wasn’t the whole truth either.

Bentley had warned him about Soren. Vette had tried to get him away from the house. They had left him a way off that road.

And when Soren hurt them, Tomas had agreed to the robbery.

Family, apparently, could save you and betray you in the same breath.

“Do you know where they went?” he asked.

“No.”

“Did you try to follow them?”

“We followed you,” Courtney said. “By the time we found the road, they were long gone.”

Red’s straps tightened.

Morons.

Tomas looked at him. “Which ones?”

All three of you.

“That’s fair.”

Something about Red seemed different.

Not the bookbag. He was still faded red canvas, scuffed corners, loose thread near one strap. But he held himself upright with a steadiness Tomas hadn’t seen before. No nervous jerking. No zipper snapping open without warning.

The pressure behind Tomas’s eyes was different too.

Quieter.

Almost peaceful.

He looked at Courtney.

“What did you do?”

She glanced at Red.

“Something I should have done sooner.”

Red unfolded one strap and pulled his zipper open.

The twelve stones rested inside him.

They were no longer pink.

Not completely.

Purple had spread across their smooth surfaces, deep and rich around the edges, while faint traces of pink remained trapped near their centers.

Tomas leaned forward despite the pain in his head.

“You’re purple.”

Closer.

“Closer to what?”

Whole.

Tomas looked at Courtney. “You fixed them?”

“No.” Her answer came quickly. “Keepers don’t fix stones.”

“What do they do?”

“Remind them.”

Courtney reached over and rested her fingers against Red’s canvas.

“There’s an ancient way a Keeper establishes a connection with the stones. No force. No commands. It takes peace, patience, and enough quiet for them to recognize what has always been there.”

“The farm,” Tomas said.

She nodded.

“Once everyone left, it was finally quiet. No ranch hands. No trucks. No one loading equipment or shouting across the house. Just Red and me.”

She is my Keeper, Red said.

Tomas stared at him.

The words hurt more than he expected.

He sat back. “So that’s it?”

Courtney frowned. “What’s it?”

“You take him home.”

Red’s zipper snapped shut.

No.

Tomas looked at him.

I recognize Courtney. That does not mean I belong to her.

“A Keeper protects the stones’ choice,” Courtney said. “She doesn’t make it for them.”

I am staying with you.

“Why?”

Red went still.

Then one strap reached across the space between the seats and curled around Tomas’s wrist.

Because you carried me when neither of us understood what I was. You came into the fire for me. You chose me when I could not remember enough to choose anyone.

Tomas swallowed.

You still have things to settle with your mother. The Collector must be defeated. And there are people in your world who have taught you to see yourself through their eyes.

“Bryce.”

Among others.

“And you’re going to help me?”

Until you no longer need me.

Tomas looked at the twelve stones hidden inside the bag.

“You remember everything now?”

Not everything. More than before. I remember Courtney. I remember what the Collector is. I remember pieces of where I came from and what I can do.

“But you’re still not whole.”

Neither are you.

“Fair enough.”

Red’s strap released his wrist and moved to Tomas’s side.

Hold still.

“Why?”

The strap pressed against his ribs.

Warmth spread beneath it.

Not heat. Something deeper.

It moved through Tomas like sunlight beneath his skin, following the curve of each rib. The soreness faded. The tightness disappeared.

Then the warmth climbed through his neck and reached the injury at the back of his skull.

The throbbing softened.

The car stopped tilting.

Tomas drew a startled breath.

Red’s strap slipped away.

The bookbag sagged against the passenger seat. When his zipper opened slightly, the stones inside were dimmer than before.

“You healed me.”

Partly.

Tomas twisted in the seat. His ribs no longer hurt, but tenderness remained at the back of his head.

“You could’ve done that this whole time?”

No.

“Can you heal anyone?”

No.

“Can you fix anything?”

Also no.

Red pulled himself upright again.

Our bond gave me a path. Even then, I used some of the strength Courtney helped me recover. I cannot bring back the dead. I cannot rebuild what is completely destroyed. I cannot keep spending power I do not have.

Courtney looked pointedly at Tomas. “So please don’t treat him like an unlimited supply of wishes.”

“A talking bookbag genie.”

Red’s zipper drew into a hard line.

I can put the headache back.

Tomas settled against the seat. “You’ve made your point.”

He closed his eyes for a moment.

The silence inside his head remained.

“No pressure,” he said. “No burning.”

The headaches came from our connection fighting itself. You were pulling power through a bond neither of us understood.

“And now?”

Now we understand more.

“Very comforting.”

It should not be.

Something beyond the windshield caught Tomas’s attention.

Rain hammered the asphalt in front of the car, heavy enough to blur the gas pumps across the parking lot.

But halfway between the Taurus and the convenience store, the rain stopped.

It didn’t fade.

It ended.

A sharp line divided the parking lot. On one side, dark clouds churned overhead and water streamed across the pavement. Ten yards away, the asphalt was dry beneath a bright afternoon sun.

Tomas leaned between the front seats.

“Is that normal?”

Courtney followed his gaze.

“Not even a little.”

They climbed from the car.

Cold rain struck Tomas’s face and soaked through his shirt. Thunder rolled above them.

Red pulled himself onto Tomas’s back. His straps tightened around Tomas’s shoulders.

Tomas walked toward the edge of the storm.

One step carried him through pouring rain.

The next put him beneath clear blue sky.

He turned.

Courtney stood with one foot on either side of the boundary. Rain struck half her body while sunlight warmed the other.

“What is this?” Tomas asked.

Red shifted against his shoulders.

The Collector.

Tomas looked toward the black clouds.

“Can he control the weather?”

This is not weather.

Courtney stepped into the sunlight.

“His influence is spreading. He’s pressing his world against yours.”

“How far?”

Twin River is already beneath it.

The convenience-store door opened.

A young couple stepped outside holding the hands of a little girl. She looked five or six, with a yellow dress and a half-eaten piece of candy clutched between her fingers.

None of them glanced at the impossible wall of rain.

They walked directly into it.

The girl jerked.

Her hands flew to her throat.

She gagged.

Her parents stopped.

They didn’t scream.

They didn’t reach for her.

They simply stared as though their minds couldn’t accept what their eyes were showing them.

The girl made a desperate choking sound.

Tomas ran.

“Get her out of the rain!” Courtney shouted.

He scooped the child into his arms and carried her across the invisible boundary. The instant they reached the sunlight, the heaviness in the air vanished.

The girl was still choking.

Tomas turned her around and knelt behind her.

“Easy.”

He wrapped his arms beneath her ribs and thrust upward.

Nothing.

The girl wheezed.

Behind them, Courtney pulled the parents through the rain.

“Come on. Move.”

Tomas tried again.

The girl coughed violently. A small piece of candy shot from her mouth and bounced across the pavement.

She dragged in a ragged breath.

And suddenly Tomas was somewhere else.

Another rest stop.

Another piece of candy.

He couldn’t breathe.

Panic clawed at his throat while the world blurred around him. Kay spun him around, dropped behind him, and wrapped her arms beneath his ribs.

“Easy,” she whispered.

One sharp thrust.

The candy flew from his mouth.

Tomas collapsed into her arms, gasping while she held him so tightly it almost hurt.

Tears streamed down her face.

“I’ve got you.”

She pulled back and held his face between her hands.

“Nobody’s ever going to hurt you. I promise.”

Then she hugged him again.

Fierce.

Protective.

“It’s you and me, kid. Against the world.”

The memory faded.

Tomas blinked.

The little girl clung to her parents. Her mother dropped to her knees, sobbing and touching her daughter’s face as though she needed to prove the child was still there.

The father seized Tomas’s hand.

“Thank you. We didn’t— She just—”

His voice trailed off.

He looked back toward the rain. Confusion tightened his face.

“I saw her,” he said. “I knew she was choking. Why didn’t I—”

“The storm wouldn’t let you understand it,” Courtney said.

The man stared at her.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No,” Courtney agreed. “It doesn’t.”

The mother pulled the girl closer.

Courtney pointed toward their car on the sunny side of the parking lot.

“You should leave.”

They hurried away with the girl between them.

Tomas watched until they were safely inside their car.

Behind him, the rain intensified.

Harder.

Louder.

Angry.

“The Collector made her choke,” Tomas said.

No.

Red shifted against his back.

The candy did that. The Collector merely convinced everyone around her that nothing was wrong.

“He would’ve let her die.”

He would have enjoyed watching them explain afterward why they did nothing.

Tomas stared into the storm.

The Collector hadn’t created Bryce.

He hadn’t made Soren cruel.

He hadn’t put Kay in trouble with Kincaid or sent Bentley and Vette racing away with stolen money.

He didn’t need to create chaos.

He only needed to find it.

Then he could make it worse.

“It’s spreading,” Tomas said.

Yes.

“Twin River is already like this?”

Worse.

“My mom is there.”

Courtney crossed her arms. “Tomas—”

“We’re going back.”

“What about Soren?”

“What about Bentley and Vette?”

“They made their choice. I don’t know where they went, and we don’t have time to search the country for them.”

“And your mother?”

Tomas looked toward the black clouds swallowing the highway.

He remembered Kay holding him at the rest stop.

Nobody’s ever going to hurt you.

It’s you and me, kid.

Against the world.

She had spent his entire life standing between him and everything dangerous.

Now she was hiding from Kincaid.

Soren knew she was vulnerable.

The Collector was closing around Twin River.

Tomas drew a slow breath.

“Now it’s my turn.”

Courtney studied him.

Then she nodded.

Tomas held out his hand. “Give me my phone.”

One of Red’s straps slid over Tomas’s shoulder.

Which one?

“My phone. How many would I—”

Red unzipped himself. The strap disappeared inside and returned holding two phones.

Tomas’s phone.

And Bryce’s burner.

Tomas stared at the second one.

Courtney lifted his phone. “You left this at the farm. I took it before we came after you.”

But Tomas was still looking at Bryce’s burner.

A plan began taking shape.

Bryce wanted the phone badly enough to threaten him.

If Tomas told him where to come and promised police would get the phone if he refused, Bryce would come.

He would have to.

Tomas took both phones.

Courtney watched his expression change.

“That smile worries me.”

“I know how to get Bryce to the final location.”

“Why would we want Bryce there?”

“Because I’m done letting him come after me whenever he feels like it. I’m going to make sure he sees what happens.”

“What happens to whom?”

“I’m still working on that part.”

Excellent plan, Red said.

Tomas slipped Bryce’s burner into his pocket.

“The police are already looking for me. Sooner or later, they’re going to catch up. When they do, Bryce and his phone will be there waiting for them.”

He looked back toward the storm.

He had run because he thought everyone would be safer without him.

He had been wrong.

“We’re going to find my mom,” he said. “We’re going to stop the Collector. Then I’m settling things with Bryce.”

He started toward the Taurus.

Courtney followed. “You realize none of that qualifies as a plan.”

“It’s more of a direction.”

The direction is toward the unnatural storm.

Tomas opened the rear door.

“That’s where home is.”

Thunder rolled across the divided sky.

Tomas climbed into the car.

“Let’s go.”