by Indie Gantz
“I’m ready to take over whenever you are,” Avias replies, shifting in his seat.
“I’m good for a little while longer,” he responds, looking weaker, but still performing the cast without interruption. It’s very impressive.
I open my mind to both Avias and Tirigan.
How does he talk while casting something so difficult?
Avias and Tirigan both turn their heads towards me at the same time. It’s almost comical.
“Practice,” Avias answers. “Compartmentalization. Experience.”
Tirigan nods at Avias’ reply, and I sigh as I look out my window. I wonder how long it will take us to learn.
You’re already remarkably stronger than you should be, considering how long you’ve actually possessed the power to invoke the elements, Avias says, slightly jealous. I wouldn’t worry about catching up.
I sigh again and focus on looking for signs that we’re being followed. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, but we’re moving too quickly to be sure.
The world flies by in a blur. It reminds me of how we came to be here.
It was less than a month ago that we sat down to dinner with our parents for the last time, less than a month since we last saw our mother. And it wasn’t long ago that we walked to, and through, a rumored monster-infested jungle without a clue as to what awaited us on the other side. We climbed up the face of a cliff and left our father alone at the edge of a forbidden forest. We learned we aren’t like anyone else on Earth. We learned we could defy the laws of nature.
So much has happened over the last few weeks, and yet, it feels like hardly any time has passed. We didn’t even know these people a month ago and now, here they are, risking their safety for us.
It feels strange to remember that feeling of wanting friends as a child, craving a normal life. I remember feeling like I was constantly standing still, never changing. I don’t miss that feeling, but I don’t love this new feeling either. The feeling of never knowing where I stand, never knowing what comes next.
There’s a lot of wisdom to be found in a quiet life, and I’m not sure I benefited from it as much as I could have. This life now, this life of constant change, it pushes me toward experiences I’m not sure I can handle.
My eyelids grow heavy as I stare out the window, daydreaming of simpler days and fretting the ones to come.
◆◆◆
I wake up to find us driving along an old and neglected highway. It must have been black once, but it’s mostly white and grey now. There are holes and cracks along the pavement, but the car swerves expertly around them. The moon is the brightest thing around, but there are small lights coming from the front of the truck to light the way. I must have nodded off sometime after we made it to the tree line.
The car moves at a normal speed now. Still incredibly fast, but not powered by one of the Téssera in the car. Kor sleeps in the front seat, his head resting against the window with his arms crossed. Oleander is still driving, but he looks weary. I can see him yawning in the rearview mirror.
“I can take over for you,” I tell him with a yawn of my own. “Although, Tirigan would probably advise against it.”
Oleander laughs. “I think I may have to risk it,” he replies. “Avias and Tirigan just dozed off a few minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake them.”
I turn to find Tirigan’s head resting on Avias’ shoulder as he sleeps, while Avias’ head rests on top of Tirigan’s. I don’t know whether their positioning was intentional or just the result of falling asleep sitting up, but either way it brings a smile to my face.
“Yeah, no. I wouldn’t want to wake them either,” I whisper. Oleander and I share a knowing look in the rearview mirror, and then I turn around to see how Bo and Cal are doing.
Bo’s reading, her lighter and a glowing ember at the tip of her pointer finger serving as her light source. Cal is awake too and staring at the back of Avias’ head. His expression isn’t completely unreadable, but I don’t get long to examine it before his eyes flick to mine then quickly out his window.
I turn away from Cal when it’s obvious he has no intention of meeting my gaze again.
“You can pull over whenever,” I tell Oleander, placing my hand on the back of his seat. “I’m ready.”
Oleander nods and the car begins to slow. When it comes to a full stop, we both get out and stretch under the glow of the full moon. I pull the map out again and place it on the hood of the car.
“Do you know where we are?” I ask.
Oleander stands next to me but continues to stretch out his arms above his head “Can’t be sure exactly, but judging by the time and how fast we were going, probably around Bogotá.”
“We’ll have to cross the ocean,” I say, brow furrowed.
“Mhmm,” Oleander replies before a yawn takes up his entire face.
“How fast was Kor getting us to go?” I ask in surprise. “Bogota is more than a few hundred bêrus away from Pacoa.”
Oleander shrugs. “Probably a couple hundred kilometers per hour. Avias was pushing it as well before he had to stop, probably at least a hundred and twenty.” He pauses then looks at me with his eyes narrowed. “Wait. What’s a bêru?”
“It’s part of the Anunnaki measurement system,” I answer absently as I look at the map. “Tirigan refuses to use it, because it’s actually pretty horrible as far as measurement systems go, but I’m just used to it I guess. A bêru is a little less than two kilometers.”
Oleander doesn’t respond immediately, which gives me time to calculate how long it will take us to get to Obispo. It’ll be a few days if we keep up this pace.
Oleander reaches toward me and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. It tends to fall in my face an excessive amount now. He smiles as I look up at him, and when his fingers brush along my neck for a second, I feel it all the way to my toes.
“There’s still so much we don’t know about each other,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” I reply. My stomach feels like it swoops up into my throat. “I guess there is.”
We share a quiet but intense gaze for a few moments before I look back down at the map. The unexpected heat coursing through me is a little too much for me to handle at the moment. I need to stay focused.
“We should probably get back on the road.”
“You’re right,” Oleander replies with a grin. He places his hand on my shoulder. “Kor will have my head if he knew how much time we were wasting right now.”
I nod and smile up at him. “Let’s get you some sleep.”
“Don’t need to convince me,” he replies, walking around the front of the car and dipping into the back seat. “You just need to stay on this road. I had to get out a couple times to move some debris off the road, but it wasn’t so bad. Wake me in a couple hours, and I can take back over. I know you haven’t been sleeping much lately.”
I nod again and fold the map back up. “That’s true, but I’m sure you’ll need more than a couple hours.”
“Nah, I’ll be good.” He smiles again as he settles into his seat. “Trust me. I’ll take back over after I’ve had a wink.”
“All right,” I agree. It’s probably better for Oleander to take over again when he can, anyway. Despite my arguments with Tirigan, I’m not exactly known for my safe driving record.
When I slide behind the wheel, I pull up the seat as far as I can to give Oleander and his obscenely long legs some more room.
“Thanks, love,” he says sleepily, his eyes already closed and his head perched back on the head rest.
“No problem,” I reply, smiling at the endearment.
Before I start the car, I take a look behind me and let my eyes rest on Tirigan for a moment. He’s sleeping peacefully, not a single line in his forehead or pout to his lips.
It’s odd, seeing him so close to someone else. His body is right up against Avias’, which is necessary due to the space constraints, but he doesn’t look as uncomfortable as I’d expect him to be. Tirigan
’s hands are in his lap, loosely clasped together, while Avias’ hand is on his own knee, palm up and open with his fingers relaxed. It looks like an invitation, one my brother didn’t accept, but Avias left there anyway. Just in case.
Kor moves in the seat beside me, but he doesn’t wake up. He’ll probably be up soon. I can’t imagine him needing much longer to recharge.
I pull the car out of park and press my foot down on the accelerator. It jerks forward much more than I expect it to, and I slam on the brakes.
“Sorry,” I whisper, looking up to the rearview mirror.
Oleander pops one eye open. “You have done this before, yes?”
“Um, yeah,” I reply unconvincingly. “Sure. I got this. Don’t worry. Just go to sleep.”
I hear Bo snicker in the back, and I glare in her direction.
“I don’t see you clamoring to help,” I snap back at her.
“Don’t know how yet.” She shrugs. “Like Avias is always sayin’, know your limits.”
Cal snorts at that but says nothing in response.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble under my breath and look back out at the road in front of me.
This time I slowly press my foot down on the accelerator and the truck rolls into drive. I continue pressing down until I find a comfortable speed to stay at. It isn’t hard to steer. In fact, it’s much easier than the trailer was.
I can do this.
I can drive us across the country. I can keep my brother safe, and I can find our mother.
I can do this.
I repeat the phrase over and over as the car moves quickly down the desolate old highway. I may not know what to expect when we finally get to Obispo, but I do know I’m strong enough to make it there.
I take a deep breath and settle further into the driver’s seat. The light from the dim headlights of the truck and the soft glow of the moon are just enough to show me the way. It’s enough to remind me that I have a plan. I have a mission.
Protect my brother. Find my mother. Reunite my family.
I can do this.
Interlude V
Day Forty-Five: Tirigan
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Annihilation of Dignity
The following days go by in a series of monotonous routines and boring conversation.
No one discusses the state of the orphaned young woman in the back seat of the vehicle, who has oscillated between sobbing and complete silence over the last forty eight hours. It’d be distracting if it weren’t so easily dissected.
Charlie and Oleander have started holding hands when they think no one is watching them. Irritating. Vaguely amusing.
Avias speaks only to chastise Bo for her run on sentences, and Kor continues to be nebulous while feigning helpfulness.
Calor’s illness no longer dominates his thoughts, leaving him open to the full range of his human emotions. Though I have not entered his mind and he rarely opens his mouth, I find Calor loud and exhausting.
When we finally cross into California and stop to switch drivers and stretch our legs, it feels like our trip has only occurred in a small construct of my own making. Disassociation. The battle, the murders, the acquisition of an eighth member to our group, it’s all held within itself, each event and subsequent consequence merely a point on a timeline. No longer emotionally seductive.
I eat my lunch in silence. The warmth of the sun coats my skin. Tingles down my spine. Nostalgia. I miss my old clothing. The fine fabric, the craftsmanship my fingers provided it. Pride. However, I do enjoy the feel of the sun’s rays on my bare skin.
Sitting in the grass, I contemplate the complex relationship between color and color contrast, the green of the grass all the more brighter against the backdrop of the cloudless sky. If it was raining, the green would lack luster. It wouldn’t seem so bright. The color of the grass does not change. It is the contrast. The contrast between two apparently identical subjects can say more about the subject than their own individual characteristics.
My fingers fondle the blades as my hand moves through the grass. Distraction. Pulling a few blades up, I force them to hover right at eye level, so I can see the contrast even more clearly.
Examining them this way frees my hands to pretend to eat. I pull off pieces of bread and rotate throwing some to nearby Anatidae, and putting one into my mouth. The eating is an attempt to keep Charlie from interacting with me. Seeing me.
At some point, she will give up entirely. Her pride will not allow her to continue her attempts much longer. I do not intend to keep her out forever, but I do find it easier to focus on what is right in front of me, and what is to come, if her emotions are not clouding my thought processes.
I do not know where the rest of our group has gone to eat their lunch and redistribute the appropriate amount of blood to their legs. Inconsequential. I focus on listing the properties of grass and tune everything else out. Blade. Node. Culm. Collar. Sheath. Crown. Stolon, Rhizome. Roots.
When I’m finished, I walk back to the vehicle and sit patiently until the vehicle is full and we are back on the road.
Bo doesn’t speak until we drive by a sign for Obispo. Three hours of peace. Oleander and Charlie should hold hands more often.
“So, what’ll we do when we get there?” Bo asks. “Tap on the door and hope they let us in?”
“I’ve got contacts there,” Kor replies to her. “Porter”
“Haven’t heard anything from him in awhile,” Avias provides, his eyes out the window. Away from Calor. Celosia’s eyes are in the opposite direction, leaving Calor to stare straight down the middle. It would be comical if it weren’t so distracting. Focus.
“Yes, well,” Kor sighs. “Different paths.”
“More like different planets,” Bo argues with a laugh. She then turns around from the front seat of the car and locks eyes with me. “No offense.”
“You do understand that I was born on Earth, yes?” I challenge.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bo rolls her eyes and turns back toward the front window. “I got it. Say, when are you going to teach your brother some bloody jokes, Lee Lee?”
Charlie lets out a strained laugh while her eyes skirt around the edges of my face. “He pretends he doesn’t have a sense of humor when it suits him.”
“And you two continue to speak as if I can’t hear you,” I respond placidly. “Perhaps my sense of humor was misplaced wherever you left your manners.”
“Oh!” Bo laughs. “Now that’s a good one!”
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.”
“And yet, it was,” Bo responds lightly, “So, how much longer, Dad?”
“Not long. A few miles before we reach the beach.”
“Beach?” Charlie repeats earnestly. Anticipatory. She loves the ocean. Something to do with the salt. I can taste it whenever she thinks of the sea. It isn’t entirely unpleasant.
“Yes, Obispo was once an entire city, but now it only applies to the beach, cliffs, and the underground compound where we’re going.”
“Compound?” Charlie repeats again, as if her lexicon has been reduced to single word echoes. Vacuous. “Underground? Like the bunkers the humans survived in?”
“Similar, yes,” Kor answers. “Though, there have been some upgrades.”
Kor pulls the vehicle off the paved road and onto a gravel path. A twenty percent decline in grade, rocks like gristle in my ears as they are crushed under rubber. I cringe. Close my eyes. Work through the uncomfortable sensation. Focus.
Just another minute.
Kor’s voice pushes through my mind’s defenses as if swatting an insect away. Impossible. My eyes fly open, but I struggle to maintain my composure. How? I do not want to give him the satisfaction of having surprised me. I meet his gaze in the rear view mirror.
It’s fine, I reply.
It’s okay if it’s not, he responds kindly.
The annoying habit of my inability to control my eyes makes itself known again. They roll slightly towards the window. Show no w
eakness. Disadvantageous. I force myself to meet his eye-line again, but Kor looks back out the road.
The car slows down significantly, eventually rolling to a stop into a make-shift parking lot. There are several other vehicles. People milling about. Some pulling on swimming clothing and others carrying long pieces of wood over a large dune that blocks what must be a view to the sea. Children laugh in the distance. A throaty call of an unknown bird wails. A deep percussion, something steady, loud... music. Someone is playing music. We are in a very public place. Exposed.
“All right, we walk from here,” Kor announces to us all. “Take everything.”
Hiding in plain sight? I ask.
Is there a better way to hide?
Yes.
Such as? Kor challenges.
We should at least change the color of the car.
There won’t be a car, he replies. My cheeks flush.
Of course. Obvious. I look away again.
Charlie pushes at my side. I suppress a flinch at the contact. She has given up on trying to reach my mind.
“What’s wrong?” she asks in a whisper, as if she hopes whatever ails me is something too personal to share with the other occupants, but hopes I’ll confide in her.
“Nothing,” I reply casually, adding a thin grin to assuage her from pushing further.
Everyone begins exiting the car. I move to open the door, but Charlie grabs the handle and pulls it back. “Not you.”
“Excuse me?” My glare is undoubtedly impressive, but she is unflinching. Her mind is closed, but her determination and strength surround me. Dominance. Fear… My thoughts tremble. She’s taken me off guard.
“Can Tirigan and I have a moment, please?” Charlie requests steadily, her eyes never leaving mine.
“We really should—” Kor tries to save me, but Charlie interrupts.
“It’ll just take a minute.”
The eldest of us stands warily outside the driver’s side door. His eyes find mine, but he does not attempt to reach my mind. He gives us a short nod then closes the door. We do not receive anything else aside from a curious glance or two from the others, before we are left entirely alone in the vehicle.