The Union

by T. H. Hernandez

  Regardless of what Cyrus says, Draya’s right, this is my fault. If I hadn’t been here, none of this would’ve happened. I should’ve gone home weeks ago.

  “If she stays, I’m outta here.” The coldness in her voice cuts me like knife blades, inflicting pain as sharp as the slap she just delivered.

  “Draya…” Cyrus starts but doesn’t finish.

  Draya whirls around and stalks into the house.

  “But I’m leaving, so she doesn’t have to go.” They just lost Lucien because of me they can’t lose Draya, too.

  Cyrus’s eyes are fixed on Draya’s receding form, but he doesn’t answer.

  Sonia approaches him. “I need to check your arm now.”

  I start to follow, but Sonia shakes her head. A few minutes later, I find out why. A steady stream of obscenities flows from the house as she cleans and stitches the gash in his biceps.

  Ally walks toward us, from the direction of the creek, with an armload of wildflowers. Sonia and Cyrus return at the same time Marcus and Will finish digging the grave. Draya exits the house in fresh clothes, a bulging pack slung over her shoulder.

  Ally hands each of us a single wildflower then offers the rest to Draya. The air is punctuated by a blend of freshly dug earth and wildflowers that is oddly fitting.

  Draya bends down to place a soft kiss on Lucien’s lips before setting the flowers on his chest. She stands, squaring her shoulders and walks off without a glance back.

  Will and Marcus each grab a side of the blanket and lower Lucien into the ground. Cyrus stares down into the grave, watching the last remaining member of his family being lowered. I stifle a sob as Lucien’s body disappears. Sonia wipes several tears before tossing her flower onto his body. The rest of us toss ours before taking turns shoveling dirt on top.

  When we’re finished, deafening silence engulfs me as a cold emptiness rips through my heart, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

  Pivoting, I walk away from the house. When I reach the creek, I break into a run, pushing faster and harder than I ever have. Even faster than when I was outrunning Dantel the night I escaped. It feels good to run — the sharp pain in my still healing ankle, the burning in my lungs, the earth pounding beneath my feet jarring my shins, every muscle straining — I relish it. It’s good to feel something because when I finally stop, I feel nothing at all.

  The atmosphere is thick, pressing down on me as clouds billow up for an afternoon storm. The air is heavier than in days past, as if the weather is aware of the horrible, unspeakable events of today.

  I sit beside the creek, trying to push back against the all-consuming emptiness inside me while scrubbing my bloody hands with a rock until my skin is raw. It won’t all come off, and Lucien’s blood on my hands is a constant reminder of everything.

  I don’t know how to survive this. The others have sustained incredible losses before today and still managed to keep going. I wish I had their strength. The grows with an explosive sadness that both rips me apart and deadens me.

  The first drops of rain spill from the sky, alerting me to how late it is. I push up and trudge back to the house, the oppressive air penetrating me and occupying the emptiness in my soul, weighing me down. The rain falls harder, and thunder rumbles in the distance.

  Cyrus is pacing the edge of the property as I approach. His shoulders drop when he sees me, some of the tension in his body releasing. I didn’t think he’d even notice I was gone with everything else on his mind.

  I run the last few yards into his warmth. He wraps me in his arms, holding me tightly to him with his uninjured left arm. I press my head into his chest and inhale his scent, a mixture of soap, sweat, and rain. My fingers grab his shirt as I try to get closer to him, climb inside him, become a part of him.

  Sweet relief fills me, edging out some of the ugliness. Things could have been even worse this morning, and I’m grateful he’s still here with me. Maybe gratitude is what keeps people going after tragic loss — appreciating what they still have.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, winding my arms around his torso and kissing the side of his neck, the taste of rain trailing down his skin coating my tongue.

  He curls his fingers behind my neck and lifts my face. His thumb glides across my jaw as he brings his lips to mine, kissing me tenderly. The rawness and heartache are momentarily replaced by us and this moment.

  He draws back. “We should go inside.”

  Taking my hand, he leads me into the house where a flurry of activity explodes around us. Packs stuffed to the brim are lined up next to the door.

  Sonia turns when she hears us. “You two go put on dry clothes and grab rain gear. We need to leave.”

  My mind blanks for a moment. “Leave? Now?”

  “They’ll be back,” Cyrus says. “We can’t stay here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “North for now, and after that, we’ll figure it out.”

  “But my friends…they’ll come here. Dantel is dead. Hopp will tell them what happened. They won’t come back now.”

  Something flickers in his eyes and I realize he’s no longer coming with me. A new wave of grief rolls through me at the thought of losing him, too.

  “Wait, just…wait.” I need to think. When my friends get here, I can tell them what’s going on and let them figure out a way to stop the attack. That way I can stay here. At least for now.

  “This is about Hopp and his wife,” Cyrus says. “He won’t stop until he has you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It’s what I’d do.”

  From across the room, Marcus says, “Me too.”

  I shake my head. “There was no girl in that house, wife or otherwise.”

  “We don’t have time to argue. We need to go,” Cyrus says.

  “No!” Panic pushes to the surface as too many things are spiraling out of my control. “Can’t we talk about this?”

  Cyrus turns to Sonia and thrusts a hand through his hair. “You talk to her. I’m going to take the cows up to the Grahams’.” He heads downstairs and out the front door, leaving me to watch his retreating form.

  I spin around to face Sonia, ready to fight her on this, but she merely sighs and says, “We’re going. Come with us. Or don’t. We’re not staying, though. I won’t risk anyone else.” Then she turns and heads upstairs.

  Her words hit me more forcefully than Draya’s slap and everything slides into place. They also blame me for what happened, and they’re leaving, with or without me.

  Up in my room, I strip off my wet clothes covered in Lucien’s blood, unsure what to do with them. Finally, I stuff them into a drawer and pack up my room. It’s not much — the stack of books, my hair balm, a handful of outfits.

  The numbness, prevalent over the past hour, gives way to a jittery tension pulsing across my skin. Does Cyrus blame me, too? I’m faced with returning to the Union without Cyrus, or staying here, knowing I’m the cause of all this heartache.

  The sound of someone crying spills up the stairs, pulling me from my thoughts. I walk down the short flight to find Ty on his bunk, his body wracked with heaving sobs. As screwed up and confused as I am, the younger kids are even less equipped to cope with today’s events.

  Ty rolls over when he hears me approach, his big blue eyes brimming with tears. He wipes his nose with the back of his arm and sniffs. I sit down next to him, ducking my head under the top bunk and pulling him against me.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  He burrows into me. “We can’t leave,” he whimpers. “What if Draya comes back? She won’t know where we are.”

  “She’s not coming back,” Cyrus says. I startle and glance over my shoulder to see him standing outside the room, water dripping from his bright yellow rain gear, puddling on the rough-hewn wood floor. “The only thing keeping her here was Lucien.”

  Ty’s cries become hysterical, and I pull him tighter to me. He gulps in deep breaths and lifts his head. “C-c-come with us, E-e-van. You c-ca
n’t go away, too.”

  My chest tightens. I glance at Cyrus, but his expression is indiscernible. Not knowing what he wants, I’m not sure how to answer Ty, so I say nothing.

  “Y-you have to p-p-promise me.”

  He’s demanding, not asking, and I realize this is about more than what Cyrus or I want. Other people need to be considered.

  Despite the gut twisting pain it causes, I force myself to think about what Lucien would want me to do. He’d want me to do right by his family, by my family, even though they’re not making it easy. You don’t walk out on family just because everything turns to shit. I know that better than anyone. But I can’t give Ty the answer he wants either, I have to be honest with him.

  “I can’t make that promise, Ty. What I can promise is that I’ll stay with you for now. And when I do leave, I’ll tell you before I go so we can talk about it first. Okay?”

  He blinks, taking in another stuttering breath, and two large tears roll down his full cheeks. “Okay.”

  I peek at Cyrus to gauge his reaction. One eyebrow is arched in silent question. I nod and the barest hint of a smile tips up the corners of his mouth. It might not be the same as him telling me he wants me to stay, but on today of all days, it’s enough.

  35

  Promises Broken

  Rain beats down on the roof creating a deafening barrage as I tie the hood of my yellow poncho over a baseball cap. Sonia paces the living room and urges us to hurry. When we’re ready, she ushers everyone down the stairs and out the front door. The downpour pounds the earth, carving tiny rivers in the mud, carrying leaves and debris through the yard.

  Our feet slosh in puddles and muck as we head north into the trees. Marcus and Sonia lead the way with me and Cyrus bringing up the rear, keeping the rest in between.

  Cyrus reaches down to take my hand as we walk, threading his fingers with mine. I still don’t know how he feels about my role in his brother’s death, but this small gesture is a much-needed reassurance.

  The creek resembles a raging river, and the level has nearly reached the bottom of a weathered footbridge. Wooden planks are thatched together with fraying ropes, and more ropes at the four corners anchor the bridge to trees on either side.

  Marcus takes a tentative step, and when it holds without complaint, he takes a few more, grabbing the side rope handrails. Sonia follows Marcus across then the kids go, one by one. They continue on, disappearing into the foliage.

  Cyrus turns to me. “Go, I’ll be right behind you.”

  The wood creaks under my foot and sinks lower, the water rushing beneath the lowest slats in the center. I grab the rough side ropes and work my way across, shifting my hands as I go. When I hit the muddy bank on the other side, I wait for Cyrus, holding my breath as he crosses. It feels like forever before he finally joins me, and I let out an audible sigh.

  As we turn to join up with the others, I hear voices over my shoulder and pause. In this bright yellow rain gear, we’ll be easy to spot. I reach for the rifle strapped to my back when the ropes catch my eye. No one will be able to follow us if I sever them. The turbulent creek is impassible without the bridge.

  Pulling out my knife, I kneel at the water’s edge and start to make the first cut. Someone calls my name and I freeze. Shock and fear curl through me, turning my insides cold. Another voice joins the fray and then another.

  “Evan?”

  I lift my gaze to meet Lisa’s across the creek.

  Relief colors her features with recognition. “She’s here!” she yells over her shoulder.

  Colin, Bryce, and Jack appear through the trees, joining her.

  Cyrus takes my hand and pulls me up and around to face him, his golden eyes dark and serious. “You have to go with them.”

  My heart trips in my chest. “No,” I whisper.

  “You have to, Ev. You can do this.”

  “No, I can’t, not without you.”

  He presses his palm against my cheek, searching my eyes. “You can.”

  I start to object, but he puts his finger to my mouth, quieting me. He slides it down and traces my bottom lip, his eyes shifting lower as an incredible sadness settles into them. “You’re the only one who can, because you’re the only one who cares enough about both the Union and the Ruins.”

  Even if he’s right, that doesn’t mean I have to go. I can tell Lisa and Colin what’s happening and they can figure out what to do. Rising fear pulls at my thoughts and I can’t think beyond what he’s asking — for me to leave him.

  He places his hands on my shoulders, holding me back when all I want to do is burrow into his chest and cling to him. “This is what you’re meant to do.”

  “Come with me, then,” I plead.

  He closes his eyes and swallows hard. “I wish I could.”

  “No, no, no…” My voice gives way to a hoarse croak on the last one.

  He folds me into his arms and kisses me, softly at first before deepening it. I don’t know this kiss, there’s too much emotion, then it hits me — he’s kissing me goodbye. A lump builds in my throat, strangling my breath. I press closer to him, grabbing the front of his jacket so he won’t let me go.

  But he does.

  He comes up for air and murmurs my name against my lips before tucking my head under his chin. His voice is barely above a choked whisper. “I love you, Ev, and I believe in you. Believe in yourself.” He releases me roughly and starts to walk away.

  “Cyrus…” I call after him, my throat clogged with tears. He stops and turns back to me. I want to tell him I love him and I can’t imagine my life without him, but the words won’t come. As if saying them will somehow mean goodbye and I can’t accept this is the end. Instead I ask, “How will I find you?”

  A shadow crosses his features, and he opens his mouth to say something before shaking his head. My heart stops as he turns and disappears into the thicket, tearing my soul into a million tiny pieces.

  I watch the spot where I last saw him long after he’s gone. Every part of me aches to run after him, and yet I don’t. Maybe because deep down, I know he’s right.

  I gradually become aware Lisa and Colin are calling me and pull my gaze away from the trees. In the short time since Cyrus walked out of my life, the water has risen even higher, cresting the middle of the bridge. If I’m going back, it has to be now. I take a cleansing breath and start across.

  When I reach the halfway point, a rope behind me breaks free, making the bridge lurch and my feet slip out from under me. I grasp the ropes tighter as the violent creek threatens to drag me in. The rough handholds dig into my palms as I grip them even tighter and haul myself forward.

  My heart beats a staccato rhythm while the free corner twists at my back like a crazed animal. A slat pulls away beneath my foot and goes careening off with the current. Lisa and Colin yell at me to hang on, but I’m already holding so tightly my fingers tingle with loss of feeling.

  “Evan, take off the backpack,” Jack yells. “It’s weighing you down.”

  I can’t. I lost everyone I care for in the Ruins. All that’s left of my life out here is inside the backpack.

  The other corner behind me pulls free, whipping my body. I scream and gulp in a ragged breath, hanging on with all my strength, my muscles quivering with the strain. What’s left of the bridge is only connected by the two ropes in front of me and twists violently with the rushing water.

  The powerful current drags me beneath the surface. My lungs burn with the need for oxygen as I struggle to get oriented. Panic rolls through me like a dark wave, and I flail, searching for something to grab onto.

  My hand brushes a rope, and I grip it with both hands, pulling myself up, coughing out a mouthful of water.

  Bryce kneels on the edge of the bank and reaches out his hand to me, I stretch, but he’s too far. The rushing water pulls me under again, and I wrap my legs around the rope, squeezing my ankles together.

  My energy is drained from the effort and I resign myself to dumping the bac
kpack. I wiggle my left arm out of the strap. The raging creek grabs the pack, nearly taking me too.

  I free my other hand and release the pack. The moment I do, I’m lighter, and scramble up the next two slats before my boot slips and catches on something. I try to jerk my foot loose, but it’s stuck.

  The force of the rushing creek prevents me from getting a grasp on whatever I’m tangled in. As I struggle to free myself, the water level continues to rise along with my level of hysteria. I don’t want to die this way.

  Swallowing back some of the panic, I regain a small amount of control over my fear and yell to Bryce, “My boot is caught on something.”

  Using my other foot, I attempt to pry it off, but the fit is too snug. The only way out of this is to untie my laces. I inch my hands down the ropes, hanging on with one arm and reaching for my laces with the other.

  Ducking under water, I fumble with the double-knotted shoelace, unable to loosen it. When my lungs are about to burst, I surface and gulp in air. Shaking my head at Bryce, I take a deep breath and dive down to try again.

  The next time I come up, Bryce is tying a rope around his waist. Jack wraps a length around his forearms and gives the end to Colin. Bryce jams a knife into his waistband and jumps in. He dives down and gets to work cutting my shoestring.

  On the shore, Jack and Colin struggle to hold the rope. If they drop it, Bryce will be washed away. I silently beg him to hurry. Finally, my boot loosens.

  Bryce comes up, grabbing on to the bridge. “Go!” he shouts.

  I grab the closest slat with my left arm and the rope with my right, pushing my boot off with my other foot, and pull myself up one slat at a time.

  Bryce calls up to Jack and Colin, “I’m fine, grab Evan.”

  Jack leans down, reaching for me. I stretch, my fingers only inches from his. A slat breaks off under my foot and a scream tears from my throat before I slip under, water filling my mouth. Murky water that is impossible to see through impedes my ability to see the rope. My hands thrash until they make contact. I thrust my head to the surface, gulping in air and coughing out water.