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POV: Bella Swan (Age 8)
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I was already tired when we got off the plane, but the air in Phoenix felt even heavier than I remembered. Hot and sticky, like wet blankets in your lungs.
The nice lady from the airline walked with me the whole way, holding my hand like she was my aunt or something. She had a big pin that said unaccompanied minor in red letters.
I wanted to tell her I was fine and didn't need help, but Mom said it was the rule. And rules were rules, you can't break them even if it's annoying. Even if you were almost nine and had flown four times before.
"There she is!" Mom waved both hands over her head, even though I saw her right away.
I dragged my little purple suitcase behind me and ran the last few steps into her hug.
Her arms wrapped tight around me, squeezing me against her soft shirt that smelled like vanilla and peppermint gum.
"I missed you so, so much," she said into my hair.
"I missed you too."
She pulled back and looked at me with a smile.
"You got taller," she said, ruffling my hair. "I leave you for the summer and now you're almost up to my shoulder!"
I rolled my eyes, but smiled. "You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
"By the way did the flight lady treat you okay? They better have let you sit by the window, I paid extra for that."
"She was nice. She gave me apple juice."
"Of course she did." Mom winked, even though her eyes looked a little wet. "My brave girl."
I hadn't seen her in two whole months. That was the longest we'd ever been apart.
She gave me another tight hug and kissed my forehead before taking my suitcase.
We didn't talk much on the walk to the car. Mom was busy telling me about this yoga retreat she tried, and how she dropped a candle on her foot doing a pose called the flaming pigeon, and how she's thinking of joining a salsa class even though she has two left feet…
I didn't say much. I just listened. That's usually what I do. I watch and listen and think a lot. Sometimes, Mom says I think too much for someone my age.
And when I do talk, I usually mean it. I don't like to strecth my words more than necessary. Mom says I take after dad in that part
"I had fun with Dad," I told her as she started the car. "We went fishing. And he made spaghetti, three times."
She smiled at my raised fingers, then reached over and squeezed my knee. "That's good. I'm glad."
By the time we were out of the airport parking lot, the sky had gone really dark. Not nighttime dark. Stormy dark. Thick, gray clouds were sitting over the city like giant dirty pillows, and wind was blowing the palm trees around like they were dancing too fast.
I'd never seen Phoenix like this. It looks like mean sky of Forks when rare rainstorms terrorise the town.
"Where did this come from?" Mom muttered, leaning forward a little to squint through the windshield. "Rain's not even in the forecast."
But five minutes later, it came pouring down.
And not soft little rain either. Big rain. Like buckets being dumped over the car again and again. The windshield wipers were going really fast, but it still looked like we were underwater.
The sky flashed a little, and thunder followed right after loud enough to make me flinch.
"I don't like this," I said softly even Forks rain rainstorms are this mean and scary.
Mom didn't answer me right away. She turned down the radio and gripped the wheel with both hands.
"It's okay, baby. Just a surprise storm. We'll be home soon."
But her voice was tight. Like she was trying to sound calm even though she wasn't.
We were driving slower now. I could barely see anything out the window just streetlights blurred like ghosts and the road shining from the water. Everything outside looked like a dream. Or a nightmare.
I started counting the seconds between lightning and thunder to distract myself. One… two… three… Boom.
That's when it happened.
Mom gasped, slammed her foot down, and yelled a bad word.
There was a shape in the road. A person crossing the road.
And then- THUMP!!!
The car bounced like we'd hit a big dog or something worse.
My whole body jerked forward against the seatbelt. Everything was loud. Then really quiet. Mom's hand was frozen on the steering wheel. Her face had gone white.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "No. No, no, no."
"Did you-" My throat felt tight. "Did you hit someone?"
She didn't answer.
I unbuckled and opened the door without thinking. Rain splashed up my legs, cold and heavy, soaking into my shoes in seconds.
"Bella! Wait!!!" Mom's shout reached but I was already out, running around the front of the car.
And there he was. A boy. Lying on the wet road. Face down, not moving. My heart jumped into my throat.
"You killed him," I said. My voice broke. "You killed him, Mom!"
Mom rushed over, dropping to her knees beside the boy. "No Bella, don't say that! I didn't see him I- he came out of nowhere!" Mom frantically checked him for injuries fortunately he wasn't bleeding.
That was the weirdest thing. No cuts, no bruises, no scrapes. Just… wet. Like a doll someone dropped in a puddle.
"Is he- is he dead?"
"No," Mom said quickly. She leaned down, pressing two fingers to his neck. "He has a pulse. He's breathing. Thank God."
I looked closer. He didn't look normal.
His skin was really pale, even in the dark. Almost silver-looking. His lips were kind of palish, but not like sick people. Just… different.
"How is he not hurt?" I whispered.
Mom didn't answer. Her hands hovered, shaking. "We need to get him out of the rain."
"Can we take him home?"
"What? No, Bella he could have internal injuries, we should-" Mom tried to deny but then the boy groaned.
I jumped back, heart racing.
"He's awake!"
He wasn't. Not really. His eyes stayed shut, and he didn't move much. But his mouth opened slightly, and I heard him say something. Or try to.
Mom bent down closer. "Hey… hey, can you hear me?"
The boy didn't answer. But he wasn't dead. That made me feel better. Only a little.
After a moment of silence we eventually decided to take him home since mom didn't want to answer the cops question and the nearest hospital was much farther than our house, and in this rain after this incident mom didn't wanted to drive more.
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POV: Atlas
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I had been running for days.
No food. No sleep. Just instinct. Just fear.
The trees blurred. The sky bled into the earth. Time was a noose tightening around my ribs.
They were still hunting. I could feel them. Somewhere in the dark.
I couldn't stop. Not even for a second.
The moment I stopped, I'd be dead.
Or worse caught. My speed once faster than any known car was slower than a 400 pound unhealthy fat man.
Every muscle in my body ached. My legs burned. My lungs were molten knives. The rain soaked through to the soul.
I couldn't tell if I was bleeding or just breaking down.
Then lights suddenly blinded me as screeching roar sounded. Something big hit, something with enough impact to knock me down. The world went white. I didn't even feel pain. Just light. And then cold pavement.
I blinked once, barely seeing the world tilt sideways.
Then a face. Two faces. A woman. Wide-eyed. Frantic. Her voice a warble underwater. And beside her a little girl. Brown eyes. Dark hair. She looked like someone who still believed in kindness.
Even as the night swallowed me, I saw her. The last thing before the dark took me completely.
And somehow… in that moment… I finally felt safe again.
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