Rachel Caine: Thin Air

And then the underbrush parted, shedding snow, and a small woman pitched face-forward into the drift. Her skin was a sickly white, and her hair was matted and tangled with leaves and twigs and…was that blood? And she was definitely underdressed for the weather in a hot-pink sweater and blue jeans…

It was the girl who’d attacked us before. Cherise. She wasn’t looking so tough anymore. In fact, she wasn’t looking good at all, and as I hesitated, staring at her, she moaned and rolled over on her side and pulled her knees in toward her chest. Her half-frozen hair, now caked with snow, was covering her face, but I could see that her eyes were open.

She blinked slowly. “Jo?” she whispered. “Jo, help. Please help me.”

I wanted to. She looked pathetic, and she looked desperately in need…but I couldn’t forget how she’d been earlier, when not even bullets could stop her. She certainly didn’t look invulnerable anymore, though; she looked like she was in deep trouble.

The kind of trouble that kills you.

“Cherise,” I said, testing out the name. She was either nodding or shuddering with the cold. I didn’t come closer, but I slowly crouched down, at least indicating a willingness to hang around. “What happened?”

Lag time. A long, unresponsive second of it.

“D-d-d-d-don’t know.” Her teeth were chattering like castanets, and her lips were an eerie shade of blue in her pale, pale face. Her eyes were huge, and they were the color of her lips. “Kevin…I remember Kevin was…he was trying to…”

“Was trying to what?”

“Jo, I’m so cold, please !” She didn’t seem to have heard me at all. Her voice was faint. Her shuddering was lessening, and I wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. “Kevin was trying to show me how to fight the fire.”

“What fire?”

Another lag, as if she had to wait for the words to circle the globe a couple of times before comprehending. “The one…” Cherise seemed confused by the question. “You know the one. The one they sent him to fight.”

“They, who?”

She just stopped talking. Blinked at me, like she had no idea why I was being so cruel to her. And honestly, I was starting to wonder about that myself. She looked so helpless, so fragile, that I couldn’t just leave her there. Not like some little match girl in the snow.

I looked around for Lewis, but he was a no-show, the fickle bastard. I could have used his ruthless practicality right now. Granted, he probably would have filled the poor kid full of bullet holes, but at least then she wouldn’t have been my problem.

No sign of him. No sign of David, either. Just me, Cherise, and the falling snow.

“Hold on,” I said. I might have sounded angry, but the truth was that I was scared. My heart was pounding hard, and I wished to hell that I knew the rules of this world, which didn’t seem to be the world I expected. Or knew. Or had known. Or maybe I was just going crazy; that would explain a lot.

I shook that idea off and focused back on Cherise. “Can you get up?” I asked her. She nodded, or at least that was what I took the convulsive jerk of her head to be, and tried. She managed to get to her hands and knees, but seemed stuck at that point, trembling like some poor wounded bird. I stood up, reached down for her, then hesitated. If this was a trap…

Then you’ll at least die with good intentions.

I sucked down a deep, cold breath, grabbed Cherise under her arm, and hauled her upright. It didn’t take much effort, as small as she was. The fuzzy pink sweater rode up, revealing a tattoo on the small of her back. Some kind of little gray alien dude waving hello. That implied a sense of humor. Maybe she wasn’t a bad kid, after all.

And maybe you’re crazy , part of my brain reminded me. I didn’t like that part. I wished to hell it would shut up.

I half dragged Cherise through the snow to the tent. She seemed barely capable of staying on her feet, even with me taking most of her weight, and I was glad I hadn’t hesitated about it too much longer. She was hardly breathing.

Getting her through the narrow tent opening was an engineering problem, but I managed, and soon I had her settled, wrapped in two thermal blankets, with heat packs warming her core temperature. In the light of the battery-powered lantern, Cherise looked ghostly, like the living dead. Which, I thought, might not be far from the case.

She didn’t say anything for a long time, and I didn’t, either. I couldn’t think what questions to ask, and obviously she wasn’t compos mentis enough to be coming up with conversation on her own. When she finally did speak, it wasn’t anything I expected her to say.

She asked, “Where’s Imara? I thought she’d be with you.”

Imara. I suddenly felt short of breath and I wished David were here. No, I didn’t wish that, because I didn’t want to think about what he’d be feeling at the sound of that name. This was all hard. It was hard not knowing, but it seemed to get worse the more I found out. Maybe ignorance really was bliss.

Cherise was shaking again, but I figured that was good; shaking meant her body was trying to warm itself, which meant she was coming out of shutdown mode. “Imara? Is she okay?”

I remembered the agony in David’s eyes, and again I just knew there was something there it would be better if I never had to face. “Where’s Kevin?” I asked instead, because I figured that if he’d recovered from whatever crazy spell he’d been under, he was in the same boat as Cherise…freezing to death out there.

Cherise seemed to try to remember. One second. Two. Two and a half, and then I saw comprehension flood her expression. Then get driven out by fear. “I…I don’t know,” she said. Her voice was high-pitched with sudden panic. “Jo, we were in the forest. He was showing me…showing me how he did the fire stuff, and it was really cool, you know. He was proud of himself, and he was saying we could help people…”

I nodded. Not that I really understood. “And then what happened? Cherise, can you-”

“I don’t remember!” she said. “We were there, and everything was fine. We were doing fine, and…” Something darted through her expression like an electric shock, and her eyes widened. “There was someone else. She came out of the forest. She was…there was something…” Her voice failed, or at least her vocabulary. She shook her head, sniffled, and wiped at her nose. I dug in the backpack for a travel pack of tissues and handed one over. It took her the now-familiar couple of seconds to see what was being held in front of her face, and then she clumsily grabbed it and honked. She sniffled some more, and seemed better. “Something bad happened to us, didn’t it?”

I had no idea, but it seemed pretty likely she was right. Something very bad indeed had happened to her and Kevin. The problem was, I had no idea if it was still happening, and if it was, what that meant for my own safety.

I watched her like a hawk, but Cherise didn’t display any special powers, monomaniacal or otherwise. The lag time didn’t go away. She napped for a while, lulled by the warmth returning to her body-yeah, I knew how that felt-and when she woke up I broke off some energy bar and shared it with her, washed down with plenty of water. I noticed her fingernails. She’d been out there scraping her way through the forest, but once upon a time she’d had a nice manicure. Her skin had that well-lotioned look, too. No wrinkles. A smooth, flawless complexion. She’d had better hair days, but I had the feeling she’d clean up fine.

So what was going on with her? What did her missing time signify, and how did that relate to my missing time, if at all? And why was she Time-lag Girl?