Drown: YA science fantasy short story (The Great Keeper) Read online

  Adelaide Walsh

  Drown

  A short story of

  The Great Keeper Series

  Copyright © 2017 by Adelaide Walsh

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Contents

  About the book

  Drown

  Conclusion

  Bonus: Other books by Adelaide Walsh

  About the book

  Drown is a young adult short story, part of Adelaide Walsh’s The Great Keeper series. It takes place between the events of Shake and Freeze, and before the subscriber-exclusive Christmas Eve Frenzy story.

  RUNNING FROM BEING grounded? Check.

  Meeting the cool boyfriend disregarding the parents' forbiddance? Check.

  Understanding what your destiny is for the first time?..

  Using your supernatural powers to the scale you have never thought you were capable of?..

  Double-check!

  Young Dana Reeves has never thought that her sweet and long-awaited meeting with John would be interrupted by Nature's plea for justice...

  But there she is, in the dark, scary woods, facing the old enemy of her parents... Who is engaged in activities against all Nature's laws.

  With the adults being busy in their Keepers deals, Dana has to decide whether she is willing to step up and take the responsibility...

  To become the real Great Keeper.

  Drown

  Dana was sitting at her window, reading Victor’s book and thinking about the world.

  It was raining hard outside, the sky alive with the ponderous thunder of an agitated world. Flashes of lightning illuminated the black letters and the faded green cover of the volume in her lap, a copy of the world’s moral code. Her parents had the original copy, the one with bent yellow pages and Victor’s handwriting in the margins, the scrawling of a scholar desperately unlocking Nature’s best-kept secrets. Everyone else had printed copies, textbooks that varied in content with the age of their intended reader. All the secrets in this book belonged to Water, and everything it had taught Victor about itself.

  Victor. The world had been eager to share with him then, but now... Now something was different. Now something was changing. They could all feel it, a tension in the air, a coldness in the water, a dull thrumming in the earth. The world was ill at ease, and so were those who borrowed its power.

  Her parents were out in the world, searching for the source of the unrest, carrying with them legions of Keepers. Hunting for whatever it was that had the sea, earth, and sky in such an uproar. Whatever it was, it was dark, it was dangerous, and it was fast gaining power.

  Not that Dana could do anything about it. She was grounded. Again.

  She had taken to sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with a very special someone. Not that she would have to sneak out, if her parents would let her do anything. Some old friend of theirs, a scientist named Tomb, or Timber, or something to that effect, had promised them not long ago that he would destroy them, whatever that was supposed to mean. It didn’t matter that she could turn a river into a spear and gut somebody with it; her parents were scared for her. Which was infuriating enough on its own, but on top of that, they were also adamant that she was not old enough to date.

  She didn’t let that stop her, though. She and John found ways. It wasn’t exactly moral to use Nature’s displeasure as a chance to sneak out, but she’d scoured Victor’s book cover to cover and couldn’t find anything specifically that said that it was. Therefore, she decided to take her wins where she could get them. Her parents were looking for a war and her friends were locked in their houses, waiting out a storm that never seemed to end.

  Dana closed the book and pushed back her hair, raven black against the porcelain white skin. Longer than she would have liked, but she hadn’t gotten around to cutting it yet. The dull yellow glow of the lamp by her bed turned it a strange grey when the shadows hit it right. John said he liked it long, but she always wondered if he was just saying that to make her feel better.

  “Any second now,” she whispered to herself, tossing the book to the foot of the bed. She closed her eyes and listened to the lightning and the thunder, feeling the vibrations of the rainwater against the window, the clouds, as they condensed and fell and seeped through the mud and dust and rock into the groundwater. It was an old exercise, merging with a storm, but it was one of the only amusing things she could find to do when she was grounded. The rain was at its most tempestuous during a storm, it’s most aggressive and distant, but becoming one with the rain made her feel ever so slightly less alone.

  Then something broke through the thunder: a tap, a clink as something hit the window. Dana opened her eyes and stared at the shadows beyond the glass, waiting. It might have been hail, but if it wasn’t...

  Something else hit the glass, and she saw it this time: a little grey rock, one of a thousand lying idle in her mother’s garden.

  Dana smiled. John.

  She went to the window and flung it open, letting in a whirl of cold wind and icy rain. The storm howled and spit, but she could hear John loud and clear, guiding his own vibrations through the air.

  “Are you ready!” he shouted.

  Dana answered by throwing herself out the window, waving her hands in small circles. The rain curled around her, forming a freezing slide beneath her that deposited her roughly on the soaked grass. She stumbled, falling hard into John’s arms.

  Gotta work on that, she thought, dazed. However, she had not broken any bones, so it was better than last time.

  “You okay?” asked John.

  Dana nodded. “Yeah. Totally.” She rose up on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his cheek, slick with rain. He smelled like the forest, like mud and dirt and rotting leaves.

  “How long do we have?” said John.

  Dana shrugged. “Mom and Dad haven’t been back for days.”

  “So, you don’t know?”

  “I think we’ll be fine,” she said. “I haven’t heard from them since yesterday. They’re a couple days past the woods.”

  John nodded. He was a handsome young man, with dark brown hair only just shedding the blond tinge of summer, plastered to his forehead by the rain. He was taller than Dana by a full head, something he never let her forget. He smiled and pulled her close, kissing her softly. “Then let’s go.”

  Dana nodded, and together they jumped the fence.

  The storm didn’t let up – if anything, it grew more intense as they walked – but Dana knew Water well enough to persuade it to fall away from her. Occasionally she could get it away from John as well, but his element was Fire, and he hadn’t quite figured out how to get along with the other elements. Fire Keepers were always that way, always slightly behind Nature’s learning curve, but they made up for it with incredible strength in their own element.

  The land beyond the fence was flat for all of ten meters – then it fell to trees, tall birches and cottonwoods with wet orange leaves clinging to their bone-white branches. It was Victor’s forest, the rising, swirling landscape where Dana’s parents had first learned the ways of Old Nature, where Adele had woken Water and Antoine had summoned Fire. Where the elements rose again from their long slumber, to dance with those willing to keep up. It was a sacred place, in theory.

  In
practice, it was a perfect place to hide. Especially in the rain.

  The trees were tangled, the grass long and tall, the ground itself twisting and bending in on itself, forming concaves, ravines, and hills enough to make a maze of the whole place. Dana and John knew every leaf, root, and branch like the backs of their hands. There were caves and overhangs, the cliff where Victor had laid down to die, the clearing where her mother had commanded the rain so many years ago. Adele always said it had been easy, that it took her only a few seconds to meld with her element before it did what she asked. Dana tried not to find that discouraging; she was having enough trouble being aware of the rain, let alone keeping her and John dry.

  “Have they found anything?” asked John as they walked, sinking ankle-deep into mud with every stride; he asked every night, and every night Dana had the same answer.

  “No,” she said, for what must have been the hundredth time. “Nothing.” If anything, it felt like her parents were getting farther away from the problem. The longer they were gone, the worse the weather became, and now even the Earth was getting involved – the most patient of all the elements. If Earth was joining the cacophony, they should be more than worried. They should be afraid.

  John squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly. “They’ll figure it out,” he said. “They always do.”

  Dana smiled, ducking under a low-hanging black branch. It’s never been this bad before, she thought, listening to the thunder, louder with every passing second. She didn’t say it out loud, though. It wouldn’t have done any good.

  At the very least, the longer Nature was out of balance, the longer her parents would be away. And the more time she would be able to spend with John, which was better than nothing.

  Better than Nature being at peace? She was reasonably certain Victor wouldn’t have approved of that. Her parents always said he was a sweet old man, and a spectacular teacher. She wondered what he would think of Nature’s current distemper. He would probably blame us, she thought, for not being able to figure out what’s causing it. There had been whispers in the beginning that maybe a Keeper had killed someone, but no one was dead. Nobody had misused their powers either, not on any scale that would warrant this kind of bad weather; so it was anyone’s guess why it was happening.

  “Hey,” said John, stopping. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

  Dana realized she was almost hyperventilating and took a deep, slow breath, sighing. “Yeah, I know.” She touched his face, running her thumb across his wet cheek.

  “They’ll figure this out,” said John.

  Dana looked up at the rain. It felt angry against her skin, tense, brittle like ice. “Or it’ll keep raining until everybody drowns.”

  John shrugged. “Either or.”

  Dana smiled, and he kissed her again. “Wouldn’t be so bad,” he said, “dying with you.”

  Dana opened her mouth to reply – something snarky, like how they both had too much homework to worry about dying just then – when something in the storm changed. The rain still fell, the air was still cold, but now...

  “Do you feel that?” Dana said, stepping away.

  “Feel what?” replied John.

  The feeling grew stronger, a tension in her lungs, a sudden desperate need to run, a sound like water rushing in her ears, the echo of a waterfall in a cave... Where is it coming from? Then the rain changed direction, the wind carrying it into her face, dragging her to the left. It wants me to go somewhere. But why?

  “Dana?” said John.

  “Come on,” said Dana, and she started to run.

  The ground was slick with mud, precarious, but they both kept their footing, following the twisting wind, vaulting over roots and ducking under branches, darting around sharp-leafed holly bushes and overgrown patches of weeds.

  “Dana!” John shouted over the rising wind, “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know!” Dana called back. The rain was even colder now, and coming down harder, sharper, tiny stingers falling like arrows from the black sky. Liquid urgency hurled itself against her chest, spurring her forward faster, faster, faster. Where are we going? Where are you trying to take me?

  The rain couldn’t answer, but it didn’t have to. A moment later, the trees broke before them, and Dana slammed face-first into a wire-mesh fence.

  John caught up with her half a second later, skidding to a halt in the deep mud. He blinked at the fence, and at the sharp florescent lights struggling to illuminate the concrete slabs below.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  Dana pulled herself to her feet, rubbing her throbbing cheek, and looked up. “Oh.”

  Before them stood a compound. A slab of concrete filled with squat white buildings and folding doors that led to underground bunkers. Men dressed in white patrolled the grounds, walking in large circles around buildings and lazily scanning the perimeter – all carrying heavy machinery, guns and tasers and electrified batons. The air that hung over the place was heavy, sterile, as though Nature’s touch had been burned away by the lights.

  “This...” John put his hand to the fence, testing its give, frowning at its steel posts. “This isn’t supposed to be here.” He looked around them, suddenly lost. “How far did we run?”

  Farther, the rain whispered, and Dana nearly screamed; she hadn’t heard its voice since the storms began. Farther than you should have gone.

  “Then why are we here?’ Dana whispered to it. Lightning tore through the sky, turning everything white.

  To see, it droned. To stop.

  “To stop what?”

  The rain did not reply, but the sky it fell from did. Thunder tumbled through the clouds, and the next lightning strike touched down not a foot from Dana and John, shattering a small green box connected to the gate. It broke free, electricity crackled through the fence, and something snapped loudly down the line.

  “What was that?” said Dana, looking at John. He frowned, taking a step towards the noise. He looked towards the gunmen warily, raising his hand. Fire crackled at his fingertips, ready to be thrown and raised into a burning pillar. But no one on the other side of the fence had heard the sound. The fire died in his hand and he pursed his lips.

  Go, the rain whispered, and Dana felt Water’s presence take its leave.

  “We have to go in,” Dana said quietly.

  “Are you crazy?” said John. “Do you see these people?” He pointed to a rather large man wielding a buzzing machine gun. “They’re armed, they are just waiting for a fight.”

  “Water said to, though.”

  John blinked. “Wait, what?”

  “Water said to.” Dana was already walking towards the snapping sound. “Don’t worry,” she said, “we just won’t fight them.”

  John caught her arm, pulling her up short. “Dana, you can’t. We are totally alone out here, if we get caught–”

  She pushed her lips into his, cutting him off. The kiss was a little clumsy, but Dana didn’t hear him complaining. She pulled back, feeling a mischievous grin form on her face. “We’ll just have to not get caught. Water said we’re here to see and stop.”

  “And stop?”

  “We wouldn’t be here if Water didn’t think we could do it,” Dana said.

  For a second, John looked like he would argue – but then he sighed, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he said. “Just... Let’s be quick, okay?’

  “Okay,” said Dana, and they started to move.

  The snapping sound was the splintering of the fence itself, metal warping until it broke, opening up a hole in a conveniently dark spot. They waited for a tall, angry looking shadow to walk around the corner before darting through, making for the flat stone wall of the nearest building.

  “Okay,” John whispered, “what are we supposed to see?”

  What are we supposed to stop? Dana thought. “I don’t know,” she whispered back. “I guess we just... Look around? Wait until we feel something bad?”

  “As though this isn’t already bad
enough?” said John. “Whoever these people are, they’re trespassing on Keeper territory. They tore up trees to put this here, they’re probably dumping waste into the water–”

  “Shh!” said Dana, clamping her hand over his mouth. A pair of armed men walked by, muttering to each other, oblivious to Dana and John.

  “Think they’re getting close?” said one.

  The other scoffed. “Doubt it. This is, what, the fifteenth person they’ve brought in?”

  “Twenty says he doesn’t make it through the night.”

  “Fifty says he doesn’t make it through the next ten minutes.”

  The other one laughed. “You’re on. But I’m not going down there to find out, okay? Temba gives me the creeps.”

  Temba, Dana thought. She’d heard that name before. Her mother had said it, or maybe it was her father. No, she thought, no, it was Nick, it was Nick Blade. But she couldn’t remember how Nick knew him.

  “Just watch the doors. If they open, he’s dead, if they don’t... He’s probably dead anyway. Just, you know, not yet.”

  They disappeared around a corner. Dana’s stomach twisted.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” said John. Dana nodded.

  “Let’s follow them,” she suggested.

  “Follow them where?” John whispered.

  “To whatever doors they’re going to watch!” said Dana. “They’re betting that someone is going to die tonight. John, this is it, this has to be what Nature’s mad about.”

  John scratched his neck, shaking his head. “if it is, then we definitely shouldn’t be here alone. We should go back–”

  “There’s nobody there to help, John,” Dana said. “Everyone is with my parents looking for this and they’re days away. Water brought us here. That has to mean something.”

  John did his best not to look uncertain, but Dana could sense the fear in him. “We’ll be okay,” she uttered. “We’ll be careful. In and out quick, I promise. Just enough to go back and tell everyone this is worth looking into. Okay?”