Chapter 1 – ELLIE #2
They scatter like leaves in the wind, leaving me alone with the scary, silent giant who just saved Sparkles.
I sit in the dirt, my knee throbbing and bloody, and stare up at him.
He's so tall I have to crane my neck back to see his face.
At least, the part of it that isn't hidden beneath his shaggy dark hair and the bandana.
For a long time, we just look at each other. Then he crouches down—even crouching, he's still taller than me sitting—and gently picks up Sparkles. His hands are huge but careful as he brushes the dirt from her pink fur and holds her out to me.
"Thank you," I whisper, taking Sparkles back and hugging her tight. My voice comes out shaky with leftover fear and relief. "I'm Ellie. What's your name?"
He just stares at me, silent as a rock.
I tilt my head, studying his face. The scars look old, like they've been there a long time. I wonder what happened to his face, and what's hiding underneath the bandana, but Mom taught me it's rude to ask about things like that. To talk about things people can't help.
"You don't talk much, do you?" I say, then feel stupid. Maybe he can't talk at all. "That's okay. Sometimes I talk too much. Mom says I talk enough for everyone in the whole world. But my friends at my old school don't mind. Usually."
I pause, suddenly homesick for those friends I'll probably never see again.
"I just moved here with my Mom because my Dad's real family found out about us, and they were mad." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I don't know how we're a fake family, because I think we're real, but Mom cries when I ask questions about it, so I don't."
Tank's expression doesn't change, but something changes in his eyes. Like he understands about families that don't make sense.
"Can you not talk, or do you just not want to?" I ask gently.
He holds up one finger.
The first one.
"Oh," I say, understanding. "So you can't talk. That's okay. I bet you're a good listener."
He nods once, then stands and motions for me to follow him. I try to get up, but my knee buckles and I wince. The scrape is deeper than I thought, blood seeping through the dirt caked on my skin.
Before I can try again, Tank reaches down and scoops me up in his arms as easily as Dad does. I squeak in surprise, Sparkles clutched against my chest.
"You're really strong," I tell him. "And huge." I study his face as he carries me through the trailer park. "You're tall enough to be a teenager, but I don't think you are. Are you?"
He shakes his head.
I guess I just need to ask questions he can answer like that.
"Are you… twelve?"
Another shake.
"Eleven?"
Another.
"Ten?"
This time, he nods.
I grin.
"Knew it!" I kick my feet excitedly because I guessed right, and he grunts, so I try to hold still.
"I'll be nine in three and a half weeks.
Then we'll only be a year apart!" I pause, taking in how much bigger he is.
"That's a whole lot of growing in a year.
I think you're gonna be even taller than my Dad. "
He doesn't respond, but he squeezes me a little closer. I've never been carried by anyone except Mom and Dad, but Tank's arms feel safe just like theirs. He's so strong, I think he could keep the whole world from hurting me.
We walk past trailers that look just like mine, small and worn and tired.
Most are nicer, though. Some even have little gardens in the front, bright flowers fighting against the dust and heat.
Others have broken cars and piles of junk.
It's like a whole different world from my old neighborhood, but Tank moves through it like he belongs here completely.
I want to ask which one he lives in, and for how long, but I decide maybe I've asked him too many questions. Mom says some people need some space in their brain between questions, and Tank seems so serious. He might be one of them.
Tank stops in front of a weathered RV that's as big as some of the trailers and just as beat up. Voices drift from the inside, boys arguing about something that sounds important to them. They're using words I'm definitely not allowed to use.
"Dude, you're cheating!"
"I'm not cheating, you just suck at this game."
"Bullshit! There's no way you got that combo fair and square."
"Maybe you should learn the controls before you start accusing people of—"
Tank pushes open the RV door and steps inside, still carrying me. The arguing stops immediately as three boys turn to stare at us.
At me.
The first one I notice has glasses and green eyes and serious brown hair. He looks up from his handheld video game and raises an eyebrow. "Looks like Tank brought home another baby bird," he mutters.
So Tank really is his name. It fits him even better now that I've seen how he moves, like he could knock down walls if he wanted to.
The second boy is pretty in a way that reminds me of fairy tale princes. His blond hair touches his shoulders and catches the dusty light streaming through the RV's metal windows, and when he grins at me and his blue eyes light up, it's like sunshine breaking through clouds.
"Hey," he says.
But it's the third boy who makes me pause. He's clearly their leader. I can tell by the way the others look at him, waiting for his reaction. He has dark brown hair, a few shades lighter than Tank's, and his gray eyes are wild and sharp, studying me like I'm a puzzle. Then, they get narrow.
"There are no girls allowed in the fortress," he says in a voice that sounds like that barking dog earlier, angry and sharp.
Tank just stares at him, silent as always. But something weird happens. It's like they're having a whole conversation inside their heads.
Maybe they're brothers.
They do look kind of alike, even if Tank is so much bigger, and I can't see much of his face. Maybe they're telepathic twins, like on that cartoon that used to come on before breakfast where one of them took all the nutrients in the womb.
The gray-eyed boy's scowl deepens and his voice gets frustrated. "Tank, we talked about this. The rules exist for a reason. You let one girl in, then they all come swarming, like ants."
"We let Jinx in and he's practically a girl," the boy with the glasses says, gesturing to the blond boy.
Jinx sticks up his middle finger but doesn't really look that upset about it.
Tank doesn't move, doesn't blink. Just keeps staring with those dark, serious eyes.
"Fine," the leader grumbles, throwing his hands up. "But she's your responsibility. She'd better not break anything or tell on us." He disappears toward the back of the RV, muttering under his breath.
"I'm not a tattletale," I say firmly, even though I don't know what it is I'd have to tell on them about anyway.
Tank gently sets me down on a leather couch that's stained and wrinkled, but surprisingly comfortable. The three boys crowd around, and I feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.
"So what happened to you, little bird?" the boy with glasses asks. His voice is dry and matter-of-fact, like he's used to seeing injured people. He glances at my bloody knee.
"I got pushed," I mumble, suddenly embarrassed. "On the playground."
"Let me guess," he continues, not looking up from cleaning his glasses. "Curly red hair, thinks she runs this place, travels with three zombies who do whatever she says?"
I freeze. "Zombies?"
"Brain-dead posers who wander around, following the dread witch and doing her bidding," the gray-eyed boy says dramatically as he comes back with a first aid kit that looks way too professional for kids to have. It's even red plastic with a white cross on the front.
"AKA, Sheri Woods," the pretty blond boy—Jinx—adds with a roll of his eyes. I doubt that's his real name any more than Tank is my hero's real name, but it somehow fits him just as well.
"I'm not allowed to watch zombie movies," I admit, which makes the gray-eyed boy snort.
"Course you're not, Princess. Probably not allowed to do anything fun." He kneels in front of me and opens the kit.
Princess?
That's what the kids on the playground called me, too. But somehow, it doesn't sound mean coming from him.
"I'm Kade," he continues, popping open the kit. "The smart-ass with glasses is Cyrus, the pretty boy is Jinx, and you've already met Tank." He gestures to each of them in turn. "In case you haven't noticed, Tank doesn't talk."
"I know," I say, smiling up at Tank. "He can't. But that's okay."
The other boys exchange a look that I don't understand. Like I've said something surprising.
"How'd you figure that out so fast?" Cyrus asks, sounding curious.
"I asked if he couldn't talk or didn't want to, and he held up one finger. That meant the first thing I said." I shrug. "It's not hard to figure out if you pay attention."
Kade grunts and pulls out a bottle of something that smells sharp and stingy. "Well, this is gonna burn like hell, so you'd better not cry like a baby. There's no crying allowed in the fortress."
I straighten my spine. "I'm not a baby," I say, but my fingers tighten a little bit on Sparkles.
"We'll see." He grins, but it's not mean like the playground kids. It's challenging, like he's testing me to see if I deserve to be in a cool place like this.
When he pours the medicine on my scraped knee, it burns like fire. My eyes water and I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, but I don't cry. I won't.
Kade's grin widens. "Not bad, Princess. Sorry we don't have any pink bandages."
"That's okay," I say, watching him stick a plain white bandage on my knee. He smooths the edges down carefully. I flex my knee and it doesn't hurt as much. "Thank you."
"So, what happened, exactly?" Jinx asks, settling cross-legged on the floor beside the couch. Up close, he really does look like a prince from one of my books. His eyes are big and blue like the sky on a clear day and his hair looks gold in the right light.
"I just wanted to use the swings," I mumble. "But they said I couldn't. Then they pushed me and tried to kill my unicorn."