I broke the surface of the wheat, gasping for breath. Sand-like particles filled my lungs and stung my eyes. I scrambled, desperate to go up instead of down. The walls of the car sloped inward. The kernels rushed down, taking me with them. They banked in the center of the hopper, sliding away quicker on the two ends. I determined that there were two slots, maybe long enough to fit someone my height. No way Isaiah would fit his broad shoulders through either one.
I grappled my way through the kernels to the front of the hopper. I had no way of knowing what lay beneath the train, or where the others were, or if Felix had returned with the foreman.
The pinging grew louder. The wheat flowed faster. I covered my face with my hands as the slot became visible.
I banged my elbow as I fell through the bottom of the car. My feet jammed on the middle bar and my shoulders landed on the grate beneath the train as I exited head first. I tasted my own blood again and looked beyond the slats in the grate to find an endless sea of grain in a warehouse under the train tracks.
Wheat rained down on me as I pulled my feet through. I rolled away from the side of the train where Felix had been talking. At least I tried. The flaps of the hopper blocked me and I had to scoot to the middle to slide around them.
Under the train, I could barely lift my head off the metal grate. All I could see: Cement.
I breathed through my nose, the chaff from the wheat lodging in the back of my throat. I gagged and hit my back on the rough underbelly of the train.
I tried to hold back the surge of panic. My fire crept upward in response to my fear. A beep sounded, seemingly next to me. I sucked in a breath and held it.
"I'm just closing the chutes now. Be there in a minute." The man cranked something, and I clapped my hands over my ears as the deafening squeal of metal on metal screamed six inches above my head.
The flaps clanked shut, and the man moved to the next car. I couldn't stay under the train forever; it would move soon. Still, I hesitated. What if Felix waited on this side of the train? What if the foreman had an office over here? When the chutes on the next hopper cranked, I rolled out from under the train.
A small table stood nearby, with an empty chair next to it. Beyond that stretched a vacant warehouse. I didn't see anyone, so I stumbled past the table, heading for a dark doorway to my left. I ducked into the shadows and pressed my back against the wall.
Breathing hard, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Just as I was about to get up, someone called, "Twelve hoppers unloaded, sir."
"Good," Felix said. "Search the cars again." He sounded so bossy, like I'd find him sitting in a chair, delivering commands and expecting them to be followed.
"Hello, Felix," another man said, his footsteps growing louder and louder.
I dodged behind a desk as he came in. When I sensed the firemaking Element in him, I buried my own spark deep inside, praying he didn't have the ability to sense it. He moved to the desk and picked something up.
"Rev, you see anyone new in line today?" Felix asked, following the man into the room. The nearness of his voice made me freeze.
"Nobody special," Rev responded. "You looking for someone specific?"
"A Firemaker. You see one, you send them to me."
"And you'll be...."
"Available via radio. Call me immediately if you find a Firemaker—or any Elemental." Felix marched out, leaving no room for negotiation. Above me, papers rustled and then Rev left the room.
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Elemental Hunger
Teen FictionSixteen-year-old Gabriella Kilpatrick can shoot fire from her hands, which would be great if she didn't get blamed for a blazing inferno that kills 17 schoolmates. When Gabby is commanded to Manifest her Element, everyone knows what she is: a geneti...