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Chapter no 20

Crave by Tracy Wolff

โ€ŒWe Came, We Fought,โ€Œ

I Froze

โ€œJaxon Vega, huh?โ€ Flint asks as the cold slaps me in the face for the second time today.

โ€œDonโ€™t start,โ€ I say, giving him the side eye.

โ€œIโ€™m not,โ€ he answers, holding both hands up in mock surrender. โ€œI swear.โ€ Heโ€™s silent for a minute or so as the three of us concentrate on trudging through the snow toward everyone else. And can I just say that Iโ€™m pretty sure Macy undersold the crowd when she said fifty people. Even in the weird civil twilight that surrounds us on all sides, it looks more like a hundred, maybe even the whole damn schoolโ€”minus Jaxon and his friends, of course.

On the plus side, at least theyโ€™re all wearing hats and scarves and coatsโ€ฆwhich Iโ€™m taking to mean that not everyone in this place is an actual alien. Thankfully.

โ€œI just didnโ€™t know โ€˜screwed-up and obnoxiousโ€™ was your type, thatโ€™s all.โ€

I shoot him a glare. โ€œI thought you werenโ€™t starting.โ€ โ€œIโ€™m not. Iโ€™m just looking out for you. Jaxon isโ€”โ€ โ€œNotย screwed up.โ€

He laughs. โ€œI notice you didnโ€™t even try to say he wasnโ€™t obnoxious, though, did you? And no offense, Grace, but youโ€™re new here. You have no idea just how fucked-up he

is.โ€

โ€œAnd you do?โ€

โ€œYeah. And so does Macy. Right, Mace?โ€

Macy doesnโ€™t answer, just keeps walking and pretends like she doesnโ€™t hear him. Iโ€™m beginning to wish I could do the same.

โ€œAll right, all right, I get it.โ€ Flint shakes his head. โ€œI wonโ€™t say anything else against the Chosen One. Except tell you to be careful.โ€

โ€œWeโ€™re friends, Flint.โ€

โ€œYeah, well, take it from someone who knows. Jaxon doesnโ€™t have friends.โ€

I want to ask him what he means by that, considering Jaxonโ€™s got the Order, and they seem pretty damn close to me, but weโ€™ve reached the first row of trees, where the others are gathered. Plus, Iโ€™m the one who just said I didnโ€™t want to talk about Jaxon. If I start asking questions, that gives Flint carte blanche to say whatever he wants, and that doesnโ€™t seem fair, since Jaxon isnโ€™t around to defend himself.

Flint walks into the middle of the group like he owns the place. Then again, judging from the way the others respond to him, maybe he does. Itโ€™s not that they all come to attention, necessarily. Itโ€™s just obvious that they all really want him to notice themโ€ฆand they all really want to hear what he has to say.

I canโ€™t help wondering what that kind of popularity is like. I donโ€™t want itโ€”would probably melt under the pressure of it in less than twenty-four hours. But I do wonder what it feels like. And how Flint feels about it.

I donโ€™t have long to dwell on my thoughts, though, because Flint gets started giving a quick rundown of the rulesโ€”starting with one that sounds an awful lot likeย there are no rules, except itโ€™s followed by the one that says if you get hit by five snowballs, youโ€™re outโ€”and then disperses the crowd. As the five-minute countdown starts, he grabs Macyโ€™s and my hands and starts running with us toward a large thicket of evergreen and aspen trees several hundred yards away.

โ€œWeโ€™ve got two minutes to find a good spot,โ€ he says. โ€œAnother two and a half to get things together. Then itโ€™s open season.โ€

โ€œBut if everyone finds a spot, who will we have to throw snoโ€”โ€

โ€œThey wonโ€™t,โ€ Flint and Macy interrupt me at the exact same time.

โ€œDonโ€™t worry,โ€ Flint tells me as we finally reach the trees. โ€œThere will be plenty of people to wage war on.โ€

Wage war? I can barely breathe. Itโ€™s a combination of the high altitude and cold air, I know, but I canโ€™t help feeling self-conscious about the way Iโ€™m huffing and puffing. Especially since he and Macy both sound like they just finished a leisurely garden stroll.

โ€œSo what do we do now?โ€ I ask, even though itโ€™s fairly obvious, considering Flint is already scooping up snow and making it into balls.

โ€œBuild up our arsenal.โ€ He gives me a wicked grin. โ€œJust because I think Jaxon is a jackass doesnโ€™t mean the guy doesnโ€™t know strategy.โ€

We spend the next couple of minutes making as many

snowballs as we possibly can. I half expect Macy and Flint to outpace me here, too, but it turns out all those years of making pastries and patting dough into balls with my mother paid off, because I am anย excellentย snowball maker. Totally kick-ass. And Iโ€™m twice as fast as they are.

โ€œComing up on five minutes,โ€ Macy says, her phone ringing with a fifteen-second warning.

โ€œMove, move, move,โ€ Flint calls out, even as he shoos me behind the closest tree.

Just in time, too, because as soon as Macyโ€™s phone screeches out the five-minute mark, all hell breaks loose.

People drop from the trees all around us, snowballs flying fast and furious in every direction. Others run by at breakneck speeds, lobbing them kamikaze-style at anyone within range.

One snowball whizzes right past my ear, and I breathe a sigh of relief until another one slams into my sideโ€”even with the tree, and Flint, for cover.

โ€œThatโ€™s one,โ€ I hiss, jerking to the right to avoid another snowball flying straight at me. It hits Flint in the shoulder instead, and he mutters a low curse.

โ€œAre we going to hide back here all day?โ€ Macy demands from where sheโ€™s crouched at the base of a nearby tree. โ€œOr are we going to get in this thing?โ€

โ€œBy all means,โ€ Flint says, gesturing for her to go first.

She rolls her eyes at him, but it takes her only a few seconds to scoop snow into a couple of giant snowballs. Then sheโ€™s letting her snowballs fly with a giant war whoop that practically shakes the snow off the nearby branches, before running toward our arsenal to reload.

I follow her into the fray, a snowball clutched in my gloved hands as I wait for a perfect opportunity to use it.

The opportunity presents itself when one of the large guys from Flintโ€™s group comes barreling toward me, snowballs hidden in the bottom of the jacket heโ€™s turned into a carrying pouch. He sends them flying at me, one after another, but I manage to dodge them all. Then I throw my snowball as hard as I can, straight at him. It hits him in his very surprised face.

Weโ€™ve built up about a hundred snowballs in our arsenal, and we use them all as more and more people pour through the forest, looking for a place to hide as they catch their breath and try to make a few extra snowballs of their own.

Iโ€™m a little surprised at how close-knit the groups areโ€”and how alliances transcend snowball teams and seem to revert back to the factions I noticed at the party yesterday. Even though members of Flintโ€™s clique are divided into duos and trios, they all seem to come together and watch one anotherโ€™s backs when someone from one of the other factionsโ€”whether itโ€™s the slender group dressed in bright jewel tones or the more muscular group that Marc and Quinn are currently fighting withโ€”threatens one of them.

I also notice that one group is missingโ€”Jaxonโ€™s. Not just

the Order, which is definitely not here, but the whole black- clothed designer faction that presided over the party with such obvious disdain. Guess Jaxon was right when he said Flint didnโ€™t want him here. Part of me wants to try to figure out what is up with that, but right now Iโ€™m too busy dodging snowball volleys to do more than give it a passing thought.

Itโ€™s total guerrilla warfare out hereโ€”fast and brutal and

winner takes all. Itโ€™s also the most fun Iโ€™ve had since my parents died, and probably even longer than that.

We exhaust our supply of snowballs pretty quickly, and then weโ€™re just like everyone else, running through the trees, trying to find cover as we fling snow at whoeverโ€™s within reach.

I laugh like a hyena the whole time. Macy and Flint look bemused at first, but soon theyโ€™re laughing with meโ€” especially when one or the other of us gets hit.

Itโ€™s after an ambush that leads to Macy getting her fourth hit and Flint and me getting our third ones that we decide to get serious. We find the biggest two trees we can to hide behind, and we drop to our knees, packing snowballs as quickly as possible. After weโ€™ve got about thirty made, Flint yanks off his hat and scarf and starts piling them inside.

โ€œWhat are you doing?โ€ I demand. โ€œYouโ€™re going to freeze to death out here.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m fine,โ€ he tells me as he turns his scarf into a kind of carrying pack. โ€œThis is our chance to win.โ€

โ€œHow?โ€ I ask. Thereโ€™s chaos all around us, and though the others havenโ€™t found our hiding spot yet, itโ€™s only a matter of timeโ€”probably a minute or twoโ€”before they do. And while weโ€™ve got ammunition, thereโ€™s also a lot fewer of us than there is of them.

โ€œBy climbing the trees,โ€ Macy tells me.

Before I can express my utter incredulity at the thought of climbing one of the gigantic, leafless aspensโ€”the lowest branches are more than fifteen feet off the groundโ€”she runs straight at the trunk of the closest tree, then jumps and kicks out hard enough to send herself soaring up several

feet at an angle, arms extended, to grab the branch of a neighboring tree. She hangs there for a few seconds, swinging back and forth to gain momentum, then thrusts herself up and onto a nearby branch.

The whole thing takes about ten seconds.

โ€œDid she just do parkour against that tree?โ€ I ask Flint before turning to Macy. โ€œDid you just parkour that tree?โ€

โ€œI did,โ€ she says with a laugh, then reaches down to catch the hat full of snowballs Flint sends flying her way.

โ€œThatโ€™s freaking awesome. But if you guys expect me to be able to do that, I think weโ€™re all going to be disappointed.โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t worry, Grace,โ€ Flint tells me as he thrusts his snowball-packed scarf into my arms. โ€œJust hold on to these for me, will you?โ€

โ€œOf course. What are you going toโ€”?โ€ I let out a screech as he grabs onto me and throws me over his shoulder.

โ€œQuiet down or youโ€™re going to give away our hiding place,โ€ he tells me as he starts climbing the tree like some Alaskan version of Spider-Man, hands and feet practically sticking to the treeโ€™s bark as he carries me up the gigantic trunk. โ€œAnd donโ€™t drop the snowballs.โ€

โ€œYou should have thought of that before you decided to hang me upside down,โ€ I snark at him. But I tighten my grip on the scarf.

I donโ€™t know how heโ€™s doing it, and I wouldnโ€™t believe it if I wasnโ€™t witnessingโ€”or should I say experiencingโ€”it for myself. But thirty seconds later, Iโ€™m straddling a tree branch, snowballs in hand, as I wait to ambush the first people who come by.

Flintโ€™s on a branch several feet above mine. Itโ€™s high enough off the ground to make me whimper just looking up at him, but heโ€™s standing there with a huge grin on his face, like balancing on a snow-packed tree branch is the easiest thing in the world.

Which, to be clear, it definitely is not. And I know that because Iโ€™mย sittingย on one and I still feel like I could slip off at any second.

โ€œSomeoneโ€™s coming!โ€ Macy hisses from one tree over.

I glance down at the ground and realize sheโ€™s rightโ€” Quinn, Marc, and two other guys are heading our way. Theyโ€™re moving stealthily instead of quickly, almost like they know weโ€™re here. And maybe they doโ€”itโ€™s not like I was exactly quiet while Flint hauled me up this tree.

Either way, it doesnโ€™t matter, because all we need is for them to get a few steps closer andโ€”

Bam. Flint sends a snowball soaring straight into the leaderโ€™s chest. Macy follows up with a one-two shot to the guy in the back. Which leaves Marc and Quinn. Which Iโ€™m definitely not going to complain about. I send a volley of snowballs straight at them, one after another. I hit Marc twice and Quinn at least four times, whichโ€”if their curse- laden complaints are anything to go byโ€”knocks them completely out of the game. Something Iโ€™m also not going to complain about.

Flint is all but crowing in triumph as he dispatches a

second group that made the mistake of coming this way, and Macy takes care of a couple of loners trying to sneak in from behind us. I restock from the thick snow on the branches and wait for whoever comes next.

Turns out itโ€™s a couple of girls dressed in teal and navy outerwear, who look like theyโ€™re having about as much fun as I do at the dentist.

I think about pulling my punchesโ€”no reason to make them even more miserableโ€”but I figure itโ€™s only putting off the inevitable. The faster I knock them out of the game, the faster they can head back to the castle. And the faster we can win this thing.

I reach for my last three snowballs and am just waiting for them to come within range when a powerful wind comes up and knocks me off balance. I make a grab for the tree trunk and manage to hold on while the wind shakes the whole tree.

Flint curses and makes a grab for the trunk, too. Then calls to me, โ€œHold on, Grace! Iโ€™ll be there in a minute.โ€

โ€œJust stay there,โ€ I call back. โ€œIโ€™m fine.โ€

Then I turn to look for Macy, worried my cousin might be in worse shape than I am. But just as I turn my head to look behind me, another gust of wind hits the tree, hard. Itโ€™s an eerie sound, and as the trunk starts to sway under the windโ€™s assault, I get more nervous. Especially when another gust comes through and hits me hard enough to threaten my grip on the tree.

Above me, Flint curses again, and Macy yells, โ€œHold on, Grace! Flint, go get her!โ€

โ€œWait!โ€ I shout back to be heard over the wind. โ€œDonโ€™t!โ€

But then Macy screams, and I spin around, terrified that Iโ€™m about to see her falling to her death. At that moment, the strongest gust of wind yet hits, and I lose my grip on the tree entirely.

I scramble to find somethingโ€”anythingโ€”to hold on to, but the wind is too fierce. The branch beneath me cracks ominously.

And then, Iโ€™m falling.

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