P. Hoover - Solstice

Reese. I’d almost forgotten about him. My face burns when I think about kissing him. Was it just last night? It feels like a lifetime ago.

Shayne takes my chin in his hand. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Reese isn’t what he seems.”

It takes me a second, but then it comes together in my mind. “He’s Ares.”

Shayne nods. “The god of war. And apparently a bigger threat than I’ve estimated.” His eyes darken a final time, and the red sparks flash. “Just stay away from him.”

I nod even though part of me doesn’t want anyone—not even Shayne—telling me what to do. As long as I don’t see Reese, I should have no problem staying away from him.

Shayne puts his fingers to my lips. “And promise me you’ll always trust me.”

It’s a strange request. And my mind flashes to our conversation with Rhadam. The secrets I know Shayne’s keeping. “Of course.”

Shayne smiles. “Thank you.” He moves away from me and leaves me standing there alone.

I look back up at the packed earth above us. I know I need to go, yet I want to turn back and run to Hell. To Shayne. But Chloe needs me. And my mom needs me, stifling though she is. So I clear my mind, thinking only of my return, and soon I’m amid the swirling liquid silver, floating in it and breathing it in. I feel myself drifting back—back to the world above. I’m overwhelmed with the urge to fight against the drift, to kick my way back to Shayne and the Underworld. But I know life is waiting for me back on Earth. And so I continue on, losing myself in the cool fluid until I’m again on hard-packed ground.

The world comes alive like a nightmare. I’m back in the Greenbelt; there’s a stillness, and the sky is dead gray. And then there’s some kind of sonic boom, and the air around me starts to hum and vibrate. Just before I left, the disperser missile launched even though the council knew it was going to destroy the atmosphere. And now it’s like there’s some rebound effect going on. Some kind of switch has been flipped. A blast of cold wind slams into me, and goose bumps explode on my bare arms.

Chloe’s where I left her. Lying on the rock-covered ground. Still unconscious. I blink my eyes a few times, and the smell of the earth around me registers. What just happened?

Hell? I’ve been to Hell?

I look around, but there’s no sign of the winged man who’d come for Chloe. His putrid odor is gone. He is gone. And so is Shayne.

Shayne is the Lord of the Underworld.

Chloe breathes normally, but she’s pale. I head to the creek and grab a handful of water, holding it in my cupped hands. When I get back to her, I drop it on her face, rubbing it into her cold, white cheeks. She stirs, but doesn’t wake, so I get some more and do it again. It’s not until the third time that her eyes finally flutter open. Overhead, rain begins to fall. But it’s hard, like tiny pellets being flung from the sky.

“Piper?”

She looks right at me, though her eyes don’t see me. But she’s alive.

I take her hand. “Hi, Chloe.” I wipe the rain from her forehead and help her sit up.

She turns her head and looks toward the creek. “What happened? What am I doing here?”

“I think you collapsed from the heat.”

She shudders as another gust of cold wind hits. “It’s so cold.”

I nod, though I want to forget about the weather. I want to forget about this whole global warming disaster we live in. All I really want to do is hug Chloe. To never let her go again. But she’s still so dazed, and I don’t want to startle her. “They launched another missile.”

I don’t think she’s even close to feeling the panic that’s starting to creep through me. Something is seriously messed up with the weather. The temperature has never dropped this quickly since I’ve been alive. But it’s like Chloe doesn’t even hear me. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself, and I notice her tattoo. Fading—like mine had done in Hell. I touch it, and the ebony ink revives under my touch until it’s as dark as the day she got it. Just like mine did when Shayne touched it. I take this as a good sign.

Chloe pulls her arms closer, and her teeth begin to chatter. I realize she’s in shock.

“We need to get you home.” And like the fates are against us, the sky picks that moment to open up and begin dumping on us. Something hard hits my head and then bounces to the ground in front of me. I pick up a thick ball of ice. Hail—that’s what we learned it was called. But it hasn’t hailed since the Global Heating Crisis started.

I grab Chloe, and we make a run for the shuttle stop. She’s like a rag doll but lets me lead her. We dash under the UV covering at the shuttle stop, but it’s not UV I’m worried about right now. The hail is coming down like stones. The thermometer at the shuttle stop has dipped to fifty-four. I think there has to be a mistake. It drops as I watch to fifty-three then fifty-one. But fifty never comes because a giant piece of hail smacks into the red LEDs so hard, both Chloe and I jump. I think she’s shivering, but then I realize I am too. The world is crashing in on us.

It takes forever for a shuttle to come. When it does, the driver has his hands gripped on the steering wheel because the road is solid ice. We’re the only ones on the shuttle, and he instructs us to sit in the middle and not say a word. Chloe’s not talking because I think she must still be in shock. I’m about to ask him if we can stop at the hospital because she’s still so pale, but the driver looks like he’s seen death himself, so I keep quiet. Chloe will be fine. She’s alive.

The shuttle makes three more stops before we get to Chloe’s house. At the first stop, Randy Conner gets on. He gives us a nod and then sits behind us.

“What the hell’s up with this weather?” he says.

Chloe doesn’t even look at him. She’s pressed against me, but I turn my head to talk to him.

“The missile,” I say. “It did something to the weather.”

“You think so?” Even in a disaster, Randy’s still a sarcastic jerk.

I ignore him and turn back around. The shuttle is sliding everywhere; we can’t get around a single turn without almost running into either a tree or a brick wall. Finally, when we get to Chloe’s stop, it plows right into the UV covering at her shuttle stop, sending pieces everywhere.

I stand up to help her off, but for a second, she looks normal.

“Thanks, Piper,” she says.

“For what?” She can’t know I saved her from death.

Chloe reaches her palm up to my cheek. “For looking out for me.” And her words seem to convey something deeper, like maybe she does know what’s going on. On Monday, I’ll ask her about it. I’ll tell her about Shayne and the Underworld even though she’ll think I’m nuts. Because I feel like I have to tell someone or I’ll burst.

“You’re welcome,” I say. I’m about to ask the driver to wait while I walk her to her house, but Chloe waves me away.

“I’m fine,” she says.

“You sure?”

She nods. “Call me later.” And she walks down the steps of the shuttle and runs to her house.

The driver backs up out of the debris of the shuttle stop and starts back down the road. I go back to my seat in front of Randy and sit down.

“You think school will be canceled on Monday?” he asks.

Overhead, the hail pounds down on the roof of the shuttle like a storm of bullets. I look out the window to where the ground has already picked up a layer of whiteness. I grip the back of the seat as we slide from one side of the street to the other.