A covey of birds wheeled up, a black cloud rolling feverishly across the sunrise. Her hand found the tree, and she wondered if she imagined the trembling of the trunk and the shuddering branches. Or perhaps she was doing it somehow, her vibrating body shaking everything around her, with no control over the damage being done. Touch something and it falls apart. That had to be the worst superpower. The thought made her giggle, and even she could hear the hysteria in the sound. She was losing it.
She felt a shove from behind, but no one had shoved her. There was no one there, and that was when she figured out it was the earth jolting under her feet in a hard push, a pause, and then a shaking—like one of those funhouse platforms that jiggled and twisted until your knees buckled.
Another earthquake.
No, not again.
When had the last one been? Just a few days ago? It had begun when she was hiking. She’d tripped on a trail that ran along a sheer drop of fifty feet and almost fallen over the edge. The rush of panic and adrenaline had kept her frozen on that cliff, imagining the plummet she’d barely avoided, seeing herself hurtling through the air and slamming onto the rocks below. Even now the thought made her palms itch. She’d taken two steps from the edge, and that was when the earthquake had started. She’d watched as rocks tumbled down the face of the bluff.
Just like I would have.
That night was the closest she’d come to tapping out, crouched in her shelter, unable to stop picturing what might have happened. Sleepless and alone in the dark, she imagined that the shaking earth had set loose a legion of monsters slouching through the desolate woods, calling her name over and over.
Cam hugged the tree, eyes squeezed shut.
River’s hands landed on either side of her, his body sheltering her from falling branches.
“Don’t move,” he said. “It’s safest to stay put.”
The knobby bark scraped Cam’s cheek. “I know.”
She was from California, after all. That stuff about doorways was nonsense. Get down, avoid buildings and overpasses—easy enough in the middle of nowhere—and stay put.
A rumble worked its way from the ground up through the trunk. The only other sound was River’s breath and the rustle of leaves, as if they were agitated by a furious wind.
“It’s just like the last one,” she said.
She felt River’s nod, a quick tip of his head brushing her hair. He stood close, and she let his nearness distract her, breathing in his smell of minty pine and ocean. It wasn’t fair that he smelled good, out here of all places, where they were all filthy and unkempt.
The earthquake went on and on. The tree shook, and leaves tumbled at her feet.
“You want me to distract you?” River said.
“I’m fine.”
“You seem kind of freaked out.”
“I’m not,” Cam said, even though it was obvious she was. “Why, you want to do more card tricks for me?”
“Would it help?”
“No,” she said, then after a moment, “How’d you change that card in your hand?”
He smirked. “Magic.”
She rolled her eyes. “I bet you’re a big hit with the seven-to-ten-year-old crowd.”
River seemed like he was about to respond with an equally wry comment when his head jerked up. “Liza! Get down!” he called.
Liza was running, stumbling like a drunk, her Skym speeding along behind. Where did she think she was going? She should lie flat.
“Damn it,” River muttered into Cam’s neck. And then, “You all right?”
“Sure,” she said, surprised at the steadiness of her voice, because she didn’t feel very all right. River’s efforts at distraction had actually been working, but then a rush of cool air replaced the warmth of his body. He went to Liza, who’d fallen and was clutching her leg.
Of course she’d fallen. That’s why you don’t run, Liza!
Cam mentally shushed herself for sounding like a schoolteacher.
Cam’s fingers were raw from digging her nails into the wood. Her heart pounded against her rib cage as if it were a seesawing pendulum.
I hate earthquakes.
With River gone, her earlier dread came rushing back. What if the producers never answered? What if they never got home?
What if we’re stuck and the world keeps shaking apart?
Cam tried thinking of River near her at the tree, but it wouldn’t work. The pounding was in her ears now, and the oxygen seemed to be pulsing, like it was alive and closing her in.
Her camera broke into its separate pieces and circled. She didn’t want to be seen like this, like she was looking for attention, like she was helpless, a burden out here, they couldn’t see her like this, and—
What if we’re stuck?
Trip was next to her, leaning on the same tree for balance. He held something in front of her, inviting her to take it. A white pill, pinched between his finger and thumb. One of his plane pills.
“Here,” he said.
Cam worried she’d drop it because she was jittering as badly as the ground. Before she could take the pill from him, however, River knocked Trip’s hand away.
“What are you doing?”
“They’re for anxiety, panic attacks. It’ll help.”
River cast him a scornful look. “I’m sorry, I missed the part where you have a medical degree.” He knelt next to Cam, his hand resting on her shoulder. “Look at me.” She looked up, held his eyes, but he blurred before her. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. “Breathe with me, okay?”
“I’m familiar with how to breathe,” Cam said, but in an awkward, breathless rhythm that belied the words themselves.
“Thought a reminder might be useful.” River took a deep breath, acting it out for her, then exhaled. He waited for her to follow along.
He breathed with her until her chest stopped aching and the flaring, bright energy faded.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the shaking stopped.
“Better?” River asked.
“I’d have survived.”
“Well, thanks for humoring me, then.”
“The pill would’ve worked,” Trip said.
River looked up at him, “You’re not a doctor. You can’t just hand out prescription drugs. It’s dangerous.”
Trip shrugged. “So are panic attacks and earthquakes in the middle of nowhere.”
River shook his head, and Cam wanted to tell them both to shut the hell up.
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” she said. “How’s Liza?”
“She’ll be fine,” River said. “She cut her leg.”
He helped Cam to her feet, but she dropped his hand as soon as she was up, pretending her legs weren’t made of jelly.
Liza sat next to the fire. She flinched as River rolled up her pant leg to reveal a long, shallow scrape, and she whimpered dramatically at the sight of blood.
River ripped strips of cloth from a shirt he pulled from his pack. Cam stood by, feeling useless, Trip next to her, hands in his pockets, looking as helpless and edgy as she felt.
“I was in my shelter when the last one hit,” Trip said. “I guess I didn’t build it so great, because it came down on top of me.”
“You’re still alive,” Cam said. “That’s good.”