Earth(52)

Sheri nodded. I recognized her as an admin worker. She helped predict weather patterns. "What kind of ink can we slap on you today?" she asked.

I sat on the cot, meeting their eyes. "I don't care. Just keep them where people are most likely to see them. Arms, face, neck. Maybe shoulders. That tree looks nice." I gestured to the tattoo on Layla's upper left arm.

They both exchanged glances. "Let's take a look." Layla reached for my hands, surveying several small scars up my arms. "We can cover these up, if you like."

I nodded, and removed my shirt, baring my shoulder. "What about this one?"

They peered at my back. "That one looks too fresh."

I snorted. It was a couple of years old, at least.

"We don't want to mess with it too much, but we'll see what we can do."

Erika was still at the tent flap. "Can I straighten up your hair a little? You are uneven in the back."

"Sure."

The tattoo artists set up a makeshift table, preparing their ink and needles. The tattoo guns were altered to run on battery power. Thank goodness they still had batteries for them. Erika began snipping away at my hair.

"Do you know someone named Sabrina?" I asked her.

"You have some sort of medical problem?"

"More like a power problem."

Erika turned my head. "That's what she is good at. I'll see if I can get her here today – you'll probably be at the mercy of these needles until dusk at least. Your debt is starting to stack up, you know."

"I know." I sighed.

"What’s your power anyway?" She turned my head the other way.

I froze – I hadn't though this one through yet. I very well couldn't say all of them. Hello red flag. No matter what I chose, they may be able to detect their own element within me. I could always play dumb if it came to that.

"Guess," I said.

"Well, she ain't an Air." Sheri glanced at me. Layla agreed.

One down, three to choose from.

Erika wasn't offering any information.

"What are you?" I asked.

"Fire." She snipped at my hair again.

Earth or Water, which one? I went with the former. "I am Earth."

"That probably explains it," Erika said.

"What?" I asked.

"That I can't detect your magic. I usually can, no matter what the element. But Earths are tricky. They operate on a lower frequency."

I thought of Susan's words, 'Earths rarely know they possess the ability themselves.' Still – all of them should've been able to detect their own elements within me. Probably another side effect of my concussion. I wondered what else my injury was shielding me from.

"Ok, ready?" Layla turned on the ominous tattoo gun in her hand. "Back or front first?"

I lay down on my stomach. "Back."

She started in right between my shoulder blades while Sheri extended my left arm for an ink bracelet on my wrist. I turned away. A few sharp stings here and there, and my bones felt like they were vibrating, but the pain wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected.

Erika finished cutting my hair and went to collecting the rest. She came around to the front of the table, opened my hand, and placed a small braided section of my locks in it. It was tied together on both ends with a thin ribbon.

"What's this for?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know – your hair seemed significant to you, so I thought you might want to keep a bit." She turned, exiting the tent. I was left to the mercy of the tattooists.

I closed my fist around the hair.

An hour later, Layla moved on to my shoulder blades. Here, the pain was worse. It was four men, pulling at each limb while Shawn carved his symbol into me all over again. It was his knife piercing my skin, leaking its poison into my body. I needed more of a distraction than my own thoughts – or my own hair.

"So – how's the weather been?" I asked Sheri. She moved from one wrist to my other.

"Weird." She pulled the gun away, blotting blood away from my wrist. The pile of reddened rags in front of me was growing.

"How so?"

"There is a derecho coming." She put the gun back to my arm.

I looked away. "A derecho? Sounds like a cowboy thing, or something."

"It is a huge, drawn-out line of thunderstorms. This one's going to have hurricane-force winds."

"Will the camp be safe?"

"Probably not – we'll need to move out soon."

I need to warn Susan and Alex.

"How much time do we have?" I asked.

"Not even a day – we'll probably leave this afternoon."

I wondered what that meant for the prisoners; and for Marissa. I closed my eyes and reached out, searching for Clay. He was standing with someone – an Earth. Her heartbeat was racing; his was slow and steady.