SILVERBONE: The Blood Medallion (Book One)

Chapter Two

All I recollected next was being dragged out of the fire by the same boy who helped me with my sister. I coughed up the smoke in my lungs as the boy shook me to be sure I was aware of my surroundings.

I croaked, “Katie…”

“It’s okay,” the boy propped me up against his torso after he collapsed on the ground with me. “She’s alive. Someone called an ambulance.”

My gaze found cousin Laura holding up Katie’s head while she pressed a shirt over her bleeding cranium. I relaxed and returned my attention to the kid next to me.

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” He smiled kindly at me. “I’m just glad everyone’s okay. That was so crazy, what just happened.” He added with thought, “It’s Gennifer Marshel, right?”

I nodded then inquired, “You know Katie?”

“Oh, yeah,” he replied bashfully. “I’m Laura’s ex, so that’s how I was introduced to your sister, and we’re in the same grade.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”

He chuckled, embarrassed. “Probably because we dated in middle school, so I guess it doesn’t count. Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m talking about this right now. Bad timing.” He nodded at the decimated barn.

I shrugged, supposing it was better than sitting in silence. “Can we go closer to Katie? I want to be sure she’s okay.”

He helped me stand and said, “I’m Wes, by the way.”

I smiled at him, relieved by the benignity after our recent trauma. “It’s nice to meet you. If only we met under better circumstances, but I’m so thankful for you. I really can’t thank you enough.”

He might have been blushing, but the soot streaking his face prevented any pigment from poking through. He replied, “You’re welcome.”

Katie regained consciousness after we sat with her, and at first, she seemed very confused, but after informing her what happened, she slowly settled. In the remaining ten minutes awaiting help, the fire crackled at the remnants of the decayed barn. Smoke blocked the starlight, leaving us in an ominous, vast darkness. Sirens blared as ambulances and fire engines pulled up. Paramedics took up the wounded and implored that we contacted our parents. As the flames were quenched, I called Mom. After confused inquiries and hysterics, Mom indicated that she and Dad were on their way. The floodlights from the trucks illuminated the dark, steamy mush pile surrounded by fire fighters like lightning bugs in a dark field. My pulse elevated again even in the safe calmness. A feeling pulled me. I stepped forward. Again. And again. I blinked, and I was in front of what used to be the barn. A glimmer of crimson romanced my attention. Lying half submerged in the rubble was the medallion necklace, though then I realized there was a ruby in the center of the black circle. An image resurrected.

The man in the mask.

It happened.

It was real.

“Miss, you need to step back,” ordered a fireman.

I swooped up the necklace and shoved it into my pocket before returning to Wes and my sister. As I scampered over to them, Wes gave me a concerned look and asked, “Are you okay?”

I dismissed his question by asking my own. “When you pulled me out of the fire, did you see anyone else inside?”

His expression fell. “Did we forget someone?”

“No, not like that…” I started, but considered that if he had to ask that, then chances were he didn’t see my strange encounter. “Nevermind,” I said. “The smoke must’ve been messing with my head.”

He studied me to be sure, but he bought my excuse because he didn’t press any further. Regardless of the lack of witnesses, I trusted myself enough to know I saw something. My hand slipped into my pocket, feeling the smooth edges of the medallion. Somehow I felt close to it, and maybe it was that feeling that was helping me not to freak out about my unusual confrontation. It felt too real to be my imagination, and perhaps taking the necklace wasn’t the safest option because it warranted the return of the man in the mask to take back his property. Nonetheless, I was going to keep it. Again with my damned curiosity.

“Gennifer!”

Mom’s voice squealed over the pandemonium. Right as I faced her, she tackled me with boney fingers squeezing my arms. Dad was shortly behind her, and he demanded, “Where’s Katie?”

“She was just taken to the hospital a couple minutes ago,” I replied.

Dad shot me an accusing glare. Even after receiving that look for fourteen years, I never got used to it. In a matter of seconds, the three of us were in Dad’s Ford truck on the way to see Katie. No matter how dire the circumstances were, Dad was never hesitant to lecture.

“What the hell were you thinking going to this place?”

It wasn’t ever “you girls”, it was always “you”. I answered, “It’s like a party for seniors before they start the school year. I knew Katie was going, so I asked to come along.”

Dad muttered incoherently, probably something about it being my fault; that was usually how it was, anyway. Mom broke the unnerving silence with, “Next time, just tell us where you are going, honey. We won’t be mad at you.”

In the hospital, we lounged in the waiting room where more parents and kids relied on doctors to check their vitals. We were told that Katie had a minor concussion, and we would be able to see her after she was stitched up. Dad paced while Mom sat with me, and we preoccupied ourselves with our phones.

A notification from Instagram alerted me that I had a new message. Wes started following me and sent me his number along with a text saying: if u need 2 talk im here.

A boy never reached out to me before. Although my unnerving encounter with Peter still swirled sickeningly in my gut, Wes’ kindness stirred me. I checked his profile to see what he looked like when he wasn’t covered in soot. According to pictures displaying him on hikes, playing sports, and hanging out with friends, he was pale and had green eyes like me, and he had auburn hair, though it leaned more red than brown. I checked his Facebook as well to see his relationship status. Single. That wasn’t too important at the moment, but admittingly, I was starving to know what it was like to be in a romantic relationship. I suppose I just always wanted to be desperately loved by someone.

I recorded his number then contemplated what to text him.

What do you text a boy?

Am I thinking too hard about this?

What if I say something wrong, and he abandons me?

Why is that even important to me?

Finally, I texted him. Hey its Gennifer thnx 4 ur help.

“Do you need to be seen?” A nurse sauntered over to us, her attention more on me. “Were you in the fire, too?”

“She’s fine. She doesn’t need a doctor. She’s not the one with a concussion,” Dad blurted.

The nurse reacted unsure to my father’s abrasive remark and looked at me curiously for an explanation. I chewed on my bottom lip, embarrassed that anyone had to endure Dad’s insociable curtness.

I lied, “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

“Well, let’s get you checked up just in case,” the nurse insisted.

Dad scoffed quietly.

My cheeks burned to the mortification, but thankfully the nurse didn’t seem to hear, and she led me back to get my vitals checked. When I returned to my seat, a notification chimed on my phone, so I immediately checked, expecting Wes’ reply, but it was just an email. Since it was something to do, I clicked on it to read.

Gennifer Silverbone,

This is a friendly reminder that Blackstone classes will be starting next month. Please refer to your acceptance letter for what you must bring. For any questions, please use this email.

Thank you.

I deleted the message.

Wrong Gennifer.