Chapter VXII

WHEN HER FINGERTIPS HIT the dirt part of the tunnel that told her she was halfway through, she instantly noticed how much colder and wetter the dirt felt against her palms. Ignoring the water that seeped into her clothes as she crawled, she pressed on eager to be free of the walls closing in around her.

A rush of cold filled the tunnel as she neared the exit. She stopped briefly, remembering that Timothy was behind her. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and she was consumed by an overwhelming fear. Her fingers reached for the brush that covered the hole and she paused. Her hand trembled at the thought of leaving the protection of the cave, but...she really did need to pee.

She swallowed back her fear, and shoved the brush aside. She hoisted herself out of the hole with a grunt, and rapidly climbed to her feet, gritting her teeth from at the lingering ache in her side. Frantically, she swung her head from side to side searching for any signs of a predator. Her wounded knee burned from the crawl and gave a sharp sting from the dirt that had buried its way into the now-shallow-cut. No matter what David said, he would never convince her that that frost wasn't magic.

Panting, she spun in a circle, jumping at the smallest sounds. A white cloud became visible in front of her eyes with each breath she heaved, and after the adrenaline settled in, her eyes darted to the ground to find it covered in a thin layer of white. Her jaw dropped, staring awestruck at the surrounding forest. "Snow," she breathed.

She cautiously crouched, surprised her body wasn't giving her more of a fit, and picked up the frosty substance. Drawing it close to her face, she gazed curiously at the snow, feeling her palm burn from the cold. Tipping her hand, the snow slid back to the earth and she found the tips of green bristles protruding through the white. She looked up and noticed the branches draped low, weighed down by the snow that littered the forest in its majestic white.

Her ears piqued when dead silence met her ears. She craned her neck to the side and discovered that the waterfall, once gushing from the large rocky mountainside, was now frozen solid.

Many a times she had dreamed of snow, but there was only one place in the whole world where snow covered the ground—unless you wanted to hike thousands of miles up a mountain—and that was the city of Neoplin—or as many people called it—the Snow City. She had tried on several occasions to get her mother to go their during one of their moves so she could see the snow, but conditions there in the Slums were hardly suitable for living. Certainly not suitable for young children.

Staring into the frozen woods, nausea boiled in the pit of her stomach. She struggled to breathe as the cold air constricted her lungs. Shivering, she briskly ran her hands up and down her arms, thankful that her jacket collected most of the water from the damp ground, but her pants did her no favors. Although thin, she was surprised at how warm the jacket really was, but she knew it wouldn't keep her warm for long.

Michelle could've mentioned the sudden drop in temperature.

"Boo!"

Joey's heart lurched as she squealed. Flinging herself around, she smacked Timothy in the arm with the back of her hand. "Quit that!"

Timothy smirked and rubbed his bicep. "Sorry, you seemed like you were having a moment and I couldn't resist."

She huffed and rolled her eyes, forcing out a cloud of her breath. Her heart pounded so loudly, that was all she could hear thumping in her ears.

"Come on, let's hurry." Timothy worked around here and started his descent.

Lowering herself to the ground, she climbed down the snow covered slope. Her feet slipped occasionally on the wet grooves, but she descended a lot quicker this time than she had earlier. And without injury.

Once she reached the ground, she eyed Timothy, but he just raised a brow in question. "What?" she asked.

"So, what did you really want to leave the hideout for?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest with a swoosh of nylon.

"What?" She was shocked by his question. "I told you up there. I have to pee."

"Liar," he stated a matter of factly, the corner of his mouth rising in a 'tisk.'

She pulled back offended, but the look of certainty in his eyes made her question. "Wait...do you...?" Her mouth dropped. "Your second ability is being able to tell when someone's lying."

He touched the tip of his nose to indicate that she was spot on.

She started walking, her boots crunching in the stone. "I just...needed some air." She eyed him from the corner of her eye and found his brow cocked with suspicion. An uneasy grin quirked her mouth. "Can you just pretend that's a good enough answer?"

Timothy shrugged dramatically. "Alright! Secrets are yours to be kept if you wish."

They walked along in silence through the cold and snowy forest until a twig snapped. Startled, Joey bumped against Timothy, nearly knocking him off his feet. "Sorry!" She stiffened, and hugged herself drawing her arms tight against her body.

"You okay?" he asked, his brow dipping with concern.

"Yeah, sorry." She released a heavy sigh, loosening her grip but keeping her arms crossed. "Guess I'm just a little jumpy."

"You sure that's all?" he pressed as they continued their walk through the freezing cold. She arched a brow at him. He averted his gaze, folding his hands behind his back as he shoved some snow aside with his shoe. "You just seemed scared is all."

A snort escaped her lips. "Is that not normal? We are in the Dome."

Timothy rolled his eyes and lowered his hands to his side. "No, not like that. Like..." He trailed off and eyed her, glancing over her body before looking back at the snow. "Like you were afraid to touch me or something."

Her eyes widened in shock. "No, that's not—" He cut her off when he shot her a glare. Right. Complete honesty. She sucked in a breath, the cold air piercing her lungs, and she restarted, "It's not that I'm afraid to touch you. It's what I'm afraid you'll—" She suddenly stopped, unable to form the words needed, and her stomach churned. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm... I'm afraid..."

"You're afraid that your ability will hurt me," he finished. A small grin tugged at her lips. He splayed his arms to the side and a smile stretched from ear to ear. "Hey, you saw what happened with David's powers." He tapped his chest. "Clearly, I'm a natural." Her grin slowly vanished along with his. "No, that's not it, is it?"

"Partially," she admitted. Staring down at her boots as they sunk through the snow, she continued softly, "I...have a second ability too." She met his gaze as he listened attentively. "It's that ability that makes me afraid." She squeezed her triceps. "It's why I don't want to accidentally give you my powers."

Timothy snorted. "Well, you don't need to worry about that. I have to take your power if I want it. A bump on the shoulder isn't going to transfer anything." He stopped walking, and she turned to face him. His blue eyes sparkled from the snow. "And I would never take them without permission." He looked up as if he was thinking. "Well, unless your one of my best friends like Skipper or Chase." A chuckle slipped through her closed lips before she even released it was gone. "Does that make you feel better?"

Her shoulders, along with her face, relaxed and she nodded. "I'm sorry. I should've trusted you more."

He waved her off. "Eh, no sweat. You barely know me after all." He glanced off and through the forest before pointing off to the side with his thumb. "Uhh, I don't know about you, but I wasn't lying when I said I needed to pee so..." He took a sideways step. "Just stay here so you don't get lost."

She watched him disappear into the woods, concealed by the cover of night. Come to think of it. Maybe she wasn't lying after all.

She walked a few paces into the brush to relieve herself, and as she finished zipping, her heart stopped and her face flushed. She jumped in place when a whispered voice floated past her ears; too soft to hear what it had to say.

Stumbling from the brush, she rotated in a circle about three times unable to locate where the voice was coming from. A few seconds dragged on before it returned, now louder and easy to make out.

It was calling her name.

Joey.

Her heart pounded rapidly against her breasts, and it became hard to breathe. Again, it came.

Joey.

"Timothy?" She was now panting. "Is that you? Is this some trick?"

Joey.

There was no way it was Timothy. The voice was far too deep and raspy to be the voice of a sixteen year old boy. She strained her ears to listen closely, and she waited for her name to flutter through once more with the breeze.

Joey.

Her eyes popped open in realization, but she shook her head. "Dad?" she mouthed. It spoke again, and there was no mistaken that the voice belonged to her dad. Even after all these years, his tone stayed distinct in her memory. She felt tears well on the bottom of her eyelids.

Joey.

She jerked her head forward, her eyes popping open, and it came again.

Joey.

"Dad?" she called a little louder. It was then she was struck with the memory of Michelle's words that had spoken mere hours ago. Agcorp is always playing tricks on us to lure us from our hiding. So no matter what you hear, no matter what you think you hear, you stay inside. Those worse faltered her steps, but when her fathers returned she narrowed her eyes in determination. Clenching her hands into fists, she tightened her jaw. "Alright, Claire," she said, lowly. "I'll play your game."

A strange pull tugged at what felt like had to be her soul, and she shifted her body towards the right in the direction she felt the pull the strongest.

Bumps traced her skin as she shivered from the cold. With one hand clutched around the two sides of her jacket, keeping the material wrapped tightly around her neck, she summoned a surge of energy to the palm of her free hand and within seconds a dagger appeared; its orange glow lit up her surroundings making the pathway clear.

The whispers continued.

Joey.

She clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to keep from running towards the voice. She had to find Timothy. She jogged back to the spot she had left him, and found him leaning against the frosty bark with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

"Had to go after all, huh?" He smirked. His eyes settled on the dagger in her hand and he pointed. "That's cool!"

"Did you hear something?" she asked, ignoring his moment of awestruck.

Timothy arched a brow and cocked his head, listening to the sounds of nature. He shook his head. "Nothing. Which we should take as a good sign and head back."

"Thought you weren't scared of the dark?" she teased.

"Fear it and respect it are two totally different things," he defended.

Joey.

She gasped, clenching the invisible leather hilt tighter, and she looked up through the trees for the voice that beckoned.

"Uh," Timothy chuckled uneasily, his brow creased with concern. "You okay there?"

Joey.

"You don't hear that?" she asked again in a hushed tone. She pointed to the trees. "It's my name." She thought her heart might beat from her chest. "It's my dad."

Joey.

Again, all was silent. "I don't hear anything," Timothy admitted aggravated. He gripped her bicep trying to usher her along. "Joey, you have to be careful out here. For all we know, it's one of Agcorp's mutations. We need to get back inside."

Joey.

She ripped her arm away and stared longingly into the dark woods. "No, you're wrong! I know his voice. I know it's him!" She took off in a run, despite Timothy's protest, following the voice and wherever it lead. But the further she ran, she realized her dads voice had quieted. "Dad?" she called out, a little louder than before. The only sound that could be heard was the usual hoot of an owl or the snow crunching beneath her boots—no, not her boots. Timothy's. He was catching up to her.

"Joey, this is a bad idea!" Timothy whispered harshly. "Michelle's going to kill us!"

"I know what I'm doing," she snapped. She broke back into a steady jog until a gush of wind unexpectedly slammed into her body with a force so brutal it caused her and Timothy to stagger back. Frantically gazing around, she panted from the adrenaline, clouds of white puffing from her lips.

A strange sensation flowed through her veins and she recognized that the wind...wasn't just wind. It tugged her forward. She squeezed the hilt of her dagger, contemplating for a split second if she needed her second.

Joey.

Her face flushed as the wind picked up and blew wildly through her hair and jacket.

"What's going on?" Timothy shouted to be heard, his arm covering his face to protect him from the stirring leaves that fluttered by.

Her father's voice remained, but as she listened more closely, she noticed that he was no longer saying her name and his voice changed dramatically. She screamed and ducked, curling her arms around her head as the shouts and screams of men, women, and children bounce off the trees and fired at her from every direction. She craned her neck around to locate the source of the voices, but found nothing.

"Run, Joey! We have to move!" Timothy pleaded, pushing against her shoulder from his crouched position behind her. He was desperate to go back to the hideout, but she couldn't. Not until she figured out what her father was trying to communicate.

Springing to her feet, she continued to twirl until another gust stopped her mid-swing like a punch in the gut. She rolled through the air, and unfortunately for Timothy, he broke her fall. A loud, manly yell pierced her ears as she stared at the bark of the tree directly in front of her, the faint glow of her dagger turning the wood a soft orange.

Her brow furrowed as a dull ache filled her head from the screams echoing through her brain. They grew louder as she took a couple steps forward, raising her dagger to see more clearly in the dark. Squinting, she brushed away some kudzu that had wrapped its way around the tree, and found an engraving underneath. Whatever it was, it looked old. Like it had been there for years.

Pulling away at the vines and greenery, her blood ran cold as her eyes widened and she stared at the initials JR carved into the wood.

She cupped her free hand over an ear as the screaming grew louder and a chill raced up her spine. Neither the scream nor initials could scare her worse than the possibility that she hadn't prepared herself for.

Taking another step forward, she gently ran her fingertips along the indentions of what had to be claw marks running from the bottom of the R halfway to the ground. Her hand shook as she withdrew it, and as much as she tried to deny it, she couldn't help but think that JR stood for Jeremiah Richards. She was hearing his voice, his screams... It was the only thing that made sense.

"What is it?" Timothy asked from behind, spooking her.

She didn't think she could answer him. Gulping, she shook her head. She wouldn't believe it. There were lots of people in the world with those initials, including her entire family. Anyone could have put those there. Maybe it was someone named Joshua Rogers.

As much as she wanted that to be true, subconsciously she knew it wasn't. She collapsed to her knees, the snow immediately seeping into her pants. She didn't want to be right. She didn't want to believe that her father had perished somewhere in here years ago.

"It's my dad's initials," she found the strength to reply.

A soft hand grasped her shoulder while she stared at the initials. Without the use of her daggers, she noticed that the letters glowed in a soft magenta coloring, and she raised a brow slowly moving to her feet. Her fingers brushed against the engraving one more time, her fingers dipping with the letters, and a new spark of reassurance filled her along with an unexpected warmth. Her dad was still alive and he was out there somewhere waiting for her. Waiting to be rescued.

"I'm sorry," she yelled over the wind. "You're right. We should head back." She swiveled around, but the rush of wind immediately ceased, the feathers flittering to the ground, and not even the smallest sound could be heard.

Timothy stared at her with his brow creased, and she knew it had to be because she was staring at him with her eyes bulging from her skull frozen in a newfound fear.

In place of the shouting came a deep growl, and she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming as she stared above Timothy's head into the shadows casted by the moon at a pair of piercing green eyes.