SKIPPING TIME

Chapter 10

Jess woke to Cacee struggling in his arms.

"Jess," she whispered, pushing against him. "Where are we? Jess, wake up. You're holding me too tight. You're hurting me."

He immediately loosened his grip

"Jess, are you awake?"

Cacee sounded wrong. Her voice had an edge of fear he didn't like. His eyes might as well have been painted shut with some kind of sandy glue. He pried them apart and peered up at a grayish-blue sky. Something seemed wrong about that but he couldn't remember what. A mixture of pain, nausea and exhaustion made it hard to think. 

Cace lay on top of him, her head on his shoulder, her body sprawled across his comfortingly. Her arm was flung to the side, the only part of her not securely on him. Despite the panic in her voice, she was quiet again.

His ears picked out the incessant honking of horns, the screech of brakes, the muffled stomping of a thousand footfalls. Fear worked loose the blankness swaddling his mind, and questions began occurring to him. Where was he? Why couldn't he remember coming here? Had he zoned out again? He whispered Cacee's name and her slight weight shifted as she lifted her head.

"Jess?" Her voice sounded wobbly. Thick smears of dirt and dried blood camouflaged her china-doll features. Flashes started invading his mind. Chloe. Police. Cacee. Wind. Fear. Pain. The images fell faster and faster, like dominoes toppling into a pattern of memory. He managed to croak, "Do you know what happened?"

"I think I passed out?" Cacee sounded weak and hoarse.

He nodded, unsure how to describe what happened to him. It seemed impossible to believe he'd just been fourteen again, much less to explain that to Cace. And then he remembered that it hadn't just been the two of them in the woods. "Shane!" Although he tried to shout, his voice came out a whisper.

Cacee said quickly, "He's fine. He's tired, but nothing is broken." She pointed.

He turned his head, and saw that the arm Cacee hadn't rested on him laid on her pup, who'd curled up by his side. Relief made him weak again but he moved his arm so he could scratch Shane's head. Shane nuzzled into his hand as Cacee sat up slowly, her head turning this way and that. He tried to sit up as well but a coughing fit seized him. Shane seemed to think he needed his face washed while he hacked up a lung and the small pup hopped up on his chest and began fervently licking him. His choking fit died almost immediately, and he turned his head from the enthusiastic application of dog spit, smiling a little despite everything. "Down, Shane." Shane got in two more fast licks before scrambling off him.

Jess put his hand out to Cacee. "Help me up?"

She nodded, grabbed his hand and pulled. It was harder than he'd hoped to get into a sitting position, but a relief to have his back off the scalding asphalt. Cacee shrugged her backpack off her shoulder. Somehow, it had made the trip here with them. But where was here?

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. They were in an alleyway, bordered by walls of decaying bricks. Clumps of colorful graffiti only drew more attention to the dismal monotony of their surroundings. The smell of a city assaulted him, a pungent perfume of garbage, exhaust fumes and too many bodies.

For the first time, his head cleared of the fogginess he'd felt since waking. He was abruptly aware of how his mouth felt like he'd swallowed a sandstorm, the way his T-shirt stuck to his body, the soaking wet heat of his hair. The sun glared like it wanted to roast him alive. It wasn't early-spring hot. It was summer hot. Burning, oppressive, breathing-volcanic-ash kind of hot.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to alleviate the throbbing pain. How had they gotten to a city? How long had they lain in this alleyway, unconscious? Long enough for it to change from night to day. Most importantly, what city were they in? Philly would be the closest to them but—at only a three hour drive—that wouldn't explain the change in temperature. No. They were further away than Philly. Just how much further, he didn't even want to know.