CHAPTER SIX

Alone

I clutched Thunderbolts reins with sweaty palms as he pounded the earth. The sun set in a bright fire bath on the horizon, and I raced to meet it, as if catching the brilliant gold could somehow take back time.

The scent of his mane mingled with the freshly cut grass of our pasture. I drew in a long breath, filling my lungs. We rode so hard that I lost myself in the rhythm of his hoofbeats, as if our bodies melded into one and nothing else existed. Freedom and exhilaration washed over me like spring rain.

“Come on, Thunderbolt, faster!” I nudged my heels in his flanks.

Thunderbolt whinnied and bolted ahead. The rhythm stuttered like a weakening heartbeat. Had he missed a step?

I tumbled forward into a heap of arms and legs. I braced myself to be buried underneath his weight, or trampled by his hooves. The air whooshed over my head as he leapt over me, racing toward the setting sun.

“Thunderbolt, wait for me.”

When I scrambled to stand, pain shot down my leg. Somehow, a cast had formed around it, weighing me down. A nurse stood beside me, as if she worked in the meadow every day.

“We’ve got to get you to the recovery room.” She bent down and lifted me onto a rolling bed. All I cared about was Thunderbolt getting away.

I pointed. “Over there. We have to go after him. There’s no fence and he could run away.”

“Yes, my dear.” She pushed the bed forward.

The grass made it bumpy and slow. “Hurry up.”

“There’s no rush, dear. You’ll be woken in due time.”

Woken? Was I asleep? Was this a dream?

When we got to the edge of the meadow, the sun had set. Twilight hung over me in a cold haze. I shivered, clutching my shoulders. I scanned the horizon and saw a black rump sticking out of a cluster of trees. “Over there.”

As she pushed me forward, her face turned into Mom’s perfect fox-like features. A swirl of emotion threatened to crumple me, and I couldn’t figure out why I needed her so badly. Wouldn’t I see her at dinner?

“Mom, we have to get Thunderbolt.”

“Yes, Jennifer. We’re almost there.”

His black hide glistened in the moonlight. She was right.

“Thunderbolt, over here.” I clicked my tongue. He always came when I made that noise, because I had treats.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, but they were empty. When had I used all the treats?

I whistled, and Thunderbolt didn’t move.

Mom seemed oblivious. “Who knows, they might wake you up in a year.”

“What?” I reached out and touched Thunderbolt’s hide. The fur was cold and coarse. My heart raced, and I swallowed a rising current of dread. I leaned over so far I almost fell off the bed and stretched my arms. My fingers caught around the saddle. I yanked him out of the trees and screamed.

A stuffed horse fell on the grass below my bed. His glass eyes stared at me as if asking why I abandoned him. I rubbed the hand that had touched his hide on my good leg to wipe away the feeling of his fake skin, but the feeling of the dead hair kept coming back and my spine tingled.

“Mom, how could you let me sleep for so long?”

When I turned around, she was gone.

I awoke shivering and reached for my sheets. My hands groped in the dark and closed on air. Had I kicked them off? Why was my pillow stuck down?

My eyes adjusted to the green light of the heart monitor, and my horrible day rushed back like a slap in the face. I relived the horrors of learning everyone I knew was dead. It left me with an emptiness so large it could eat me alive. I wanted to squirm it off, but it clung to me like mold.

I cried until I had no tears left and my stomach muscles hurt from sobbing. I felt so alone that I could have been the last person alive on Earth. Curling up into a fetal position, I wanted to feel Mom’s arms around me, hear the sound of Dad’s voice. All those times Timmy wanted me to play cars with him on the floor and I said no hurt like stabs in my heart. I was too interested in my stuff, the latest gossip in school, and shopping. How could I have been so distracted?

In the middle of the night in my futuristic hospital room, I finally realized what was important in life. Not some school dance, my gym grade, or the latest accessory from Abercrombie. When everything was stripped away, family and the people you cared about were all that mattered. Too bad I realized it too late.

“Wake me up.” I cried out loud to whoever would listen. “Get me out of here.”

No one answered. Only the beeping of the heart monitor, and it always said the same thing. The emptiness was so complete that I could have died right there and not cared. But that’s not what my family would have wanted. They invested all of their money and hopes on this project, and it worked.

To fight the depression, I had to keep going. I owed it to them.

They’d want me to give this new world a chance. If anything, I couldn’t let the thousands of dollars Dad had paid for me to have this second chance go to waste. Besides, I couldn’t lie in BMC forever. I hated hospitals. Anything would be better than this, even if I had to put up with people I didn’t know, people who looked like they’d stolen my family’s faces right off them.

I reached around the bed for the button to hail the nurse, but the sleek chrome had no panels.

“Damn. Stupid futuristic bed.”

How did they call people on Star Trek? I cleared my throat. “Computer, get me the nurse.” I felt like the biggest geek ever, but after a second, the wall on my left flicked on like a giant TV. I jerked back, expecting something to explode. An older woman’s face peered at me.

“Yes?”

Um. Do I just talk to the wall?

The older woman tilted her head. “You hailed?”

My voice came out as a mouse shriek. “Yes.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“No.”

It took me a moment to remember the weird names of my new legal guardians. “Call Valex and Len Streetwater. I don’t need to talk to the counselors. I’m ready to go home.”