The Union

by T. H. Hernandez

  He sits quietly, watching me as I share the events from my kidnapping up until they found me in the desert.

  “Tell me again what they said about Bryce.”

  “Uhh…‘he’s sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,’ something like that.” I shake my head. “Like Bryce was butting into Walker’s business. At the time, I didn’t understand what that meant, but now…Do you think Bryce is a smuggler?”

  He stares at the ground for several long moments before lifting his head to meet my gaze. “Maybe. If products are going into the Union, they need people on the inside. Bryce could be smuggling into the Union or even out of it. Or a little of both. Anything’s possible.”

  “What do you think they wanted with me?”

  “I don’t know. Kidnapping a Uni seems extreme if he wasn’t living up to his end of the bargain. That’s a big risk. Why not just take him out?”

  “Yesterday, what did you mean when you said ‘it’ happened before?”

  “The Union coming out here to retrieve one of their people.”

  “When?”

  “A couple years ago. A Uni kid was found out here. A Teen. A family stumbled across him and nursed him back to health. He said he ran away from an abusive home.” He blows out a slow breath. “The kid’s family had government connections and sent a search party into the Ruins for him.”

  He pauses for a long time but, there must to be more to the story. “And?” I prod.

  “They found him. The family had two boys of their own. The search party killed both parents in front of all three boys, and said the same would happen to the other boys if the Uni kid talked about where he’d been or what he’d seen out here.”

  My stomach rolls at this latest revelation. “What happened to the other boys?” I whisper.

  “We found them on our way to the Summer Festival not long after. They’ve been living with us ever since.”

  Will and Ben.

  “Time’s up,” Cyrus says, holding out a hand to help me back to the stream as if he didn’t just tell me a horrific tale about two people I love.

  We rinse my hair and climb back up to the hideaway where Cyrus hands me a set of clean clothes from the house along with a couple of books. He drops a light kiss on my lips before going to check the snares.

  While he’s gone, I change and toss my dirty clothes into the bag to go back to the house. I pick up a book and sit on the bench to read, but I can’t focus. All I can think about is Will and Ben. I don’t understand how my government could do this. Does my uncle know?

  Something about all of this isn’t sitting right with me. The Union doesn’t kill people. Maybe the smugglers were behind it. I mean, they have a vested interest in keeping the Ruins a secret, because if Unionites found out, they’d demand something be done. That would make smuggling irrelevant. But if everyone in the Union knew, that would mean people demanding action, the Union opening itself to everyone in the Ruins, the end to our way of life. Maybe they don’t want anyone to know either.

  Cyrus whistles as he approaches and his face lights up when he spots me, making my heart do somersaults in my chest. He sets down the rabbits he’s holding and takes my hand, pulling me off the bench.

  “I didn’t think it was possible, but you may be even more beautiful as a blonde.” He kisses me deeply, stealing my breath, then releases me and gets to work on dinner as if he didn’t just plunder my senses.

  After dinner, we sit beside a fire outside the hideaway. Cyrus wraps his arms around me, tugging me against his chest, and we talk late into the night. During a lull in the conversation, my thoughts return to yesterday morning again.

  “You said you weren’t going to send me back to the Union, but I heard you say you’d talk to me right after Draya said I had to go.”

  He sighs, his hot breath fanning across my now mostly bare neck causing me to shiver despite the warm night. “Marcus said you had a right to know how much danger we’re in. That I had to let you make your decision based on all the facts. I was afraid you might leave once you knew.” Then he kisses the back of my head and tells me the plan he and Lucien came up with. It’s just crazy enough, it might actually work.

  27

  Crazy Plans

  Last night’s conversation is front and center when I wake from a fitful sleep. My brain is like a blender of whirling thoughts, too jumbled to put any of it in perspective. I hobble over to the ladder and climb up to find Cyrus at the table nursing a thermos of tea.

  He hands me a second thermos and brushes his lips against mine. “How’s the ankle this morning?”

  “Better, I should be able to walk more today.”

  “Good.” He pauses, his features pulled tight. “Before we do this, I want to make sure it’s what you want. There’s no point in going through with this if you’re leaving.”

  This is it.

  The moment of truth.

  I always believed I’d go home someday, but he asked me to stay and I need to decide. Closing my eyes and weigh my choices. My family and friends in the Union. My life and friends here. Cyrus.

  Both sides tear at me like a cruel game of tug-of-war. In the end, one side tugs harder, yanking me over the center line. The desire to stay with him is a desperation, rivaling hunger or thirst. I open my eyes and nod.

  The creases in his forehead relax and a smile spreads from the corners of his mouth to his whole face. He stands and wraps his arms around me, lifting me off the bench with him. “Then we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

  I eat the oatmeal he brought for me and then we head out, where Cyrus teaches me how to choose appropriate sticks and carve supports for a snare. I practice setting them until I get it right. After a short break for lunch, he teaches me how to clean, load, and shoot the rifle.

  “This is a basic lever-action rifle. It’s accurate and simple to shoot. Slide the cartridges in the tube like this.” He demonstrates then lets me try. When I get the hang of loading, he shows me how to cock, aim, and fire. The intense bang startles me, the butt of the rifle kicking against my shoulder as it spits out the casing.

  I empty the gun without hitting much. He has me reload and try again, and I have a bit more success.

  “Don’t pull the trigger. You need to squeeze with a constant, increasing pressure until it fires.”

  He continues to hurl directions at me on sighting, my stance, my breathing, until I give up in frustration.

  “That’s enough for today.” He takes the rifle back from me and picks up my hand as we return to the hideaway.

  We’re both quiet as we sit beside each other on the bench, our dinner dishes scraped clean. I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them as I stare into nothingness, the consequences of putting the plan Lucien and Cyrus came up with into action wreaking havoc with my conscious.

  “What are you thinking about?” Cyrus asks.

  I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it. In desperate need of a distraction, I lean over and kiss him. My lips capture his bottom one, the stubble beneath scratching me, rough and masculine. I sigh and unwrap my arms from my legs and wrap them around him. The gentle motion of his mouth against mine slows my thoughts and heats my blood.

  He pushes me back until I’m reclined as his soft, warm kisses engulf me. I lose myself in him, in breathing him, touching him, absorbing him, until there’s no room to think about anything else. Our breaths increase as our mouths devour each other’s.

  His hands slide beneath my shirt, hot and course against bare skin, making me feel alive. I need to feel alive. He trails his lips down my neck, sending shivers of desire through me.

  I slip my hands under the hem of his shirt and run across the firm muscles of his chest. He separates from me to peel off his shirt, giving me an unobstructed view of his perfect six-pack abs v-ing into the waistband of his shorts.

  He quickly returns his mouth to mine, rolling to his side and pulling me with him so he can grasp the edge of my shirt and lift it over my head. This is the farthes
t I’ve ever gone with a guy. At nearly eighteen, I never made it past first base, but I’m completely at ease with this. At least until Cyrus’s eyes travel over my body, both heating my skin and making me blush.

  His lips crash back to mine, his hand snaking around my back to unhook my bra in one smooth, practiced move, sliding the straps down my shoulders. This is definitely not his first trip to the rodeo.

  He kisses me harder while his hands explore with gentle determination. His calloused palms against sensitive flesh causes goose bumps to rise over every inch of my skin. I’m ready to go even further, no longer worried about the consequences. If I’m old enough to make serious, life-altering decisions about my future, I’m old enough to have sex.

  Just as I decide I want more, Cyrus abruptly pulls away from me and runs a hand through his hair, making it jut out at crazy angles. His eyes smolder then his gaze falls from mine. He stands and grabs his shirt, thrusting it over his head.

  “Uh…what’s wrong?” I hate the way my voice sounds insecure and hurt and it hits me that he’s fully dressed and I’m still half-naked. I grab my top from where he discarded it and clutch it to my chest.

  His fingers rake through his hair again, leaving it even wilder. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…we can’t do this.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “God, I love you.”

  My eyes widen at his confession. I’ve had two boys tell me they love me, and both times they seemed conflicted about it. “Cyrus…”

  “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but not like this.” He turns and walks out of the hideaway, leaving me alone, rejected, and embarrassed.

  After pulling my shirt back on, I lean against the post and process what just happened. Warmth billows in my heart as I replay his words over and over. He loves me. And I don’t need to ask myself if I love him, too, because I already know that I do.

  My parents huddle together on a cliff overlooking the Ruins. Mom sobs as Joe consoles her. I peer over the edge, curious what’s captured their attention. It’s a body. A girl with long curly red hair, legs and arms splayed at unnatural angles. Tears stain my mom’s cheeks, her beautiful green eyes puffy.

  The scene morphs into an L-Train platform. Katie and Rachel stand with Eddie who’s holding two little hands. Dark circles burrow under Eddie’s eyes, his skin pale and drawn.

  The train transforms into a gurney with my twisted body, gliding down the track. Mom lets out an anguished cry, trying to follow while Joe holds her back. I scream at them to look at me, that I’m alive, but they only see their own pain.

  “Shhhhh, you’re dreaming.” Cyrus whispers while stroking my hair.

  I sit up, the nightmare still fresh, and a sob escapes my throat.

  “Hey, hey, you’re okay.” He pushes a curl away from my sweaty face.

  I take a shaky breath and tell him my dream.

  “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “It’s not too late,” he murmurs. “You can still go home.”

  But I am home. Being in the Ruins, being with Cyrus, centers me. The sense of purpose I have here, the peace that curls into every corner of my body, can’t be denied.

  He lies back down, pulling me with him and kisses my forehead. “I can’t pretend I know what you’re going through. I want you to stay, but this is a choice you need to make for yourself.”

  “I know.”

  His arms tighten around me, but he doesn’t say anything more. There’s nothing else he can say. I made my decision and the consequences of my actions can’t be soothed with words. I close my eyes, but sleep evades me. Soon his breathing becomes deep and even, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  I’m about to destroy my family. They’ll never stop looking for me unless they think I’m dead. And I can never go back. Cyrus said the Union will hunt down everyone involved in the deception if they find out. I believe him, I guess. But what if he’s wrong?

  It doesn’t escape me how twisted it is that my parents spent twelve years pretending Eddie was dead to protect me, and here I am about to pretend I’m dead to protect the Ruins. And yet, I don’t feel any sense of satisfaction in this. Only gut-wrenching guilt. I shudder at what I’m planning to do to them.

  I can’t put my family through hell until I’m sure it’s absolutely necessary. I need to see the evidence for myself. Proof of what the Union has done out here.

  28

  Tough Choices

  My head is lighter without all my hair weighing it down, but it’s also a reminder of the reasons I needed to change my appearance. No matter how many distractions I tried to throw in their path, my fears found me last night.

  I climb up to the main floor and see Cyrus heading back this way with Sonia and Marcus. Sonia raves about the hideaway. “You built this? Sneaking off while we were working on the house?”

  Cyrus shrugs and grips the back of his neck. “Whenever you guys started making out, I took the leftover materials and hiked out here.”

  A dark stain colors Sonia’s caramel-colored cheeks and she turns away.

  Marcus steps inside and runs his hands along the side posts, glancing up at the thatched roof. “I can’t believe you did this by yourself. How’d you get up there?”

  “Took a while,” Cyrus says, handing me a bowl of oatmeal with fresh berries and a thermos of tea, avoiding eye contact.

  After Cyrus and Marcus head off to hunt, Sonia examines my ankle. She removes the wrappings and presses firmly, feeling my bones. “It’s not broken. You should be able to put your boot back on in a couple of days.”

  She hands me a fresh set of clothes and helps me down to the creek to bathe. The water is cold and getting cleaned up is awkward. I miss showering at the falls. How crazy is that? I’m longing to take a shower in the Ruins.

  After I dress, Sonia steps back and studies me. “I like your hair. The color suits you.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s nice to see Cyrus so happy. You’re good for him.”

  My smile joins hers. “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Sure.”

  “I mean something really personal.”

  “Okaaaay…”

  “Have you and Marcus ever…you know…?”

  She laughs. “Of course. Why do you ask? You and Cy?”

  I blush a deep shade of scarlet and shake my head. “No. We came close last night. I thought I was ready, but…Cyrus stopped things before it got that far. I’m not ready to be a parent, and I’m pretty sure he isn’t either, but after last night, I’m not even sure where things stand with us now.”

  She stifles a laugh. “Evan, I realize we live differently here than you did in the Union, but we do have condoms. It’s not the 1800s even if it seems that way to you.”

  Oh, god. “Right, right, of course…I mean, I saw them at the trading post. And obviously neither you nor Draya have a baby. Please shoot me now,” I mumble.

  This time there is no stifling the laugh as she hugs me. “Oh, Evan, maybe he just didn’t have one with him last night.”

  The way she says it makes me feel about ten years old. We’re chronologically close in age, but she seems so much older and wiser sometimes. My lack of knowledge of Ruins birth control is just another reminder of how completely clueless I am about the choice I’ve made. What happens if we break up? Where will I live? What if I’m making a huge mistake?

  “He’s crazy about you, you know. If you don’t feel the same, be careful. You have the power to really hurt him.”

  “What about all the other girls? Lucy said—”

  “Lucy’s jealous. I don’t know what she said, but I can guess. Forget about her.”

  She stands and offers me her hand to help me back up the side of the ravine, effectively ending our conversation. It doesn’t escape me that she didn’t answer my question, but I should really be talking to Cyrus about this.

  After lunch of fresh fish Sonia and I caught and some apples Cyrus picked
yesterday, we head out so I can practice with the rifle. I’m getting better, but shooting targets is one thing, I’m not sure I can shoot a living, breathing thing.

  Dinner is roasted pheasant, then we around the fire to talk. Cyrus and I sit beside one another, but the gap between us seems much wider than the foot of space separating us. Things have been awkward since he walked out on me last night.

  Cyrus and Marcus explain the plan in detail. “We’ll time it right to make sure Dag sees the body in the water. We just need him to believe it’s you,” Cyrus says.

  “Dag knows what I look like, though.”

  “Ally will be face down wearing a hat with your hair sewn inside. He’s not going to touch her. Hell he won’t even get close enough to notice she’s still breathing. Dag is freaked out by the dead,” Marcus says.

  “Will Walker just take his word for it? Won’t he want proof?”

  “He’d probably be happier with a body he can take back to the Union, but we only need to convince Dag. He’s gotta be Walker’s source, the one who told him you were staying with us.”

  Cyrus leans back against the log, propping his elbows up on it. “Walker wants the Union off his back. If he can’t return you alive, knowing you’re dead will be enough.”

  “How can Walker convince the Union I’m dead without a body?”

  “He’s probably working with someone inside the Union. They can help him with a death certificate.”

  My death certificate. I shudder, realizing what a big deal this is and how much is at stake if we’re not successful. “I can’t let everyone risk themselves for no reason. I have to be a hundred percent sure before I end that part of my life for good.”

  Cyrus nods with a resigned expression, then turns to Marcus and Sonia. “I’ll take her to the old Madera Mesa power station.”

  “You two shouldn’t go alone,” Marcus says.