The Fault In Reality

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Darkness is swarming, humming, buzzing in my vision. I'm dreaming of a wire being yanked into the small of my back, and an invisible sprite brushing a broom over my face. Then the darkness is split with tiny pinpricks of light, millions of them. The pinpricks blossom and sharpen, and a faint outline of the world solidifies behind a haze of white.

The wire in my dream is unsurprisingly not a wire at all, but merely my back twisted painfully from its sudden impact with the ground. As for the broom, I pin it under influence of Devany's nuzzling nose. The sprite, I suppose, is nothing more than further evidence of my fevered imagination. The screen of hazy white begins to recede.

"Era? Era, can you hear me?"

Slowly, as though I'm moving through thick water, I turn my head and zero in on Jack's worried face. I watch as his brow unfurrows and his lips relax into a relieved smile. He says, into the cellphone at his ear,

"Yes, she's just regained consciousness ... no, only a minute or two. She's got blood on her shirt but I don't think it's hers."

I play around with the muscles in my face for a bit, trying to figure out how to get my mouth to open. Eventually I manage to mumble something incoherent and confused. Jack covers his phone with a large, square hand and looks me right in the eye.

"Era," he says seriously, "where is Chase? What's happened to him?"

I'm listening to his words, but they're not making any sense. Chase... Chase... my head jerks up with the realization. I scrabble to my feet. Devany shies away from my sudden movement. He curls his lip, ears quirked at opposites. Confusion rings his eyes in white. No doubt my fainting, falling, and waking are utterly alien to him.

The sound of a siren approaches, and soon after a scarlet firetruck rolls up the drive. Jack turns and waves his arms through the air, so that the two men in neon vests and yellowed helmets who have just emerged hurry over.

Devany is quivering, muscles coiled and ready to bolt. I take hold of his reins and run a hand down his neck. My fingers come away damp with his sweat. The wail of an ambulance is careening somewhere further down the road, growing ever louder. My panicked mind goes to Chase, lying somewhere helpless in the forest, and I know there's no time to waste.

The adrenaline stirring my blood helps fuel the jump I make. It's a long way from the ground to Devany's high withers, but my wobbly legs don't fail me once on horseback. Automatically my calves hook over his spine, and the next moment I'm settled with the reins in my hands.

"Era?" Jack is looking up at me. It's clear he's more than a little zoned out. Confusion knits his brow into a work of wrinkles.

The two firefighters reach us, and amidst my panic I take a moment to sympathize with how strange the situation must seem from their perspective. A boy in some kind of mysterious danger... a girl with bloodied clothes, sitting on the back of a big nervous horse. And Jack, an unexplained outsider, who's no better informed than them themselves.

I study the two firefighters, trying to decide which one looks more useful. After a brief moment of hesitation, I offer my arm to the taller of the two: a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair.

"Where's the kid?" he asks, eyeing my arm dubiously.

"In the forest, bleeding heavily on the trail. You can't drive there, but he needs help as soon as possible. Either you run at the speed Usain Bolt or you ride with me."

I'm surprised by my own words, but fear has a way of putting things into raw perspective. Pleases and thank-yous will do little other than waste time right now. I can tell the firefighter is scared, that he's probably never been asked to do this kind of thing before. But I admire his courage when he takes my hand and pulls himself up behind me.