Fallen Firsts (Rebel Thirds Book 3)

by Jillian Torassa

  Walter would never trouble me again.

  And it was time to find Gideon.

  Climbing into the front seat of Walter’s fancy car, I jammed the keys into the ignition. Slammed it into reverse. Pulled out of the driveway.

  No more messing around.

  Time to get to work.

  ---

  Propelled by a renewed sense of purpose, I pushed away the suffocating fear and doubt that came from an event I had seen on TV and wouldn’t allow myself to think about it. Not yet. There would be time for that later. As soon as I found an empty street, I pulled over to fish around in the back of Walter’s car, and sure enough, I found some make-up hidden under the back seat. Walter was a vain man, and he always had a few compacts hidden away where he could easily reach them, in case of an acne emergency.

  Dabbing the concealer onto the backs of my hands, I did my best to cover up my tattoos. With my new hair, new car, and hidden marks, no one would bother me. Even if Gideon had succumbed to the tortured questions they surely asked him about me, they would be looking for Jade. Not for whomever the hell I was now.

  Whomever the hell I am now.

  Not Gideon.

  Don’t think about Gideon.

  Though it was fully dark, it wasn’t late enough for the old ale house to be closed for the night. Once it was, however, I would break in, make my way to our old classroom, and then wait for Cece to arrive with the others. Because of the—unfortunate events—that had transpired in the last couple of hours, the Liminis lockdown was now lifted. That horrible Doctor had said so, and Cece would be able to get back in through the tunnel.

  At least, that’s what I hoped.

  Old ale house. Tunnel. Survivors.

  Not Gideon.

  Don’t think about Gideon.

  So I found myself with a couple of hours to kill, and I sped around, wondering how Firsts could possibly enjoy having so much free time.

  The longer I drove, the antsier I became. My fingers drummed against the steering wheel as I considered my options. If I were really ballsy, I could go to the old ale house as a patron, wait until last call, and then slip back in once the manager had left. But I knew I wasn’t brave—or stupid—enough to do that. And like a lake pushing on the back of a dam, something horrible pressed against my conscious, willing me to give in to what I really wanted to do.

  Not that. Don’t think about that.

  But without knowing what I was doing, I somehow found myself parked outside of the Doctors’ Clinic. Outside of the graveyard where Gideon was now buried.

  Way to not think about it, Jade.

  My chest felt like a blender as my emotions started to swirl, but I left the car in the shadows, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the cool night.

  The streets were empty—everyone in Liminis had retired to their homes or to their favorite places of evening debauchery, and the fact that it was now sprinkling made it even less likely that anyone would see me. Nevertheless, I kept my eyes open, walking confidently across the soggy grass so as not to arouse suspicion, just in case.

  The farther I marched, the more pronounced the hollow ache became inside my chest. I was scared. I was cold, I was nervous, I was excited, but most of all, as the small collection of headstones rose up before me, I was devastated, and I couldn’t fight it any longer.

  He would be in an unmarked grave, but the dirt would be freshly disturbed.

  Gideon’s final resting place.

  I spotted it almost immediately, and the mound of fresh earth brought on a wave of anguish that I could have never been prepared to feel.

  Buried beneath the soil that he had always tended to, Gideon lay in a wooden box, his brave heart no longer beating. I collapsed into the mud as a torrent of tears fell down my cheeks, placing both my hands on his grave and weeping.

  I would never see him again. The last words I had spoken to him had been cruel, and the last image I had of him was of his limp body, hanging from a gallows. I hadn’t been able to save him, and now he was gone forever.

  Not even bothering to keep my voice down, I let the violent sobs tear at my body. The impenetrable cloud that shrouded my mind told me that I was never going to be happy again. And I didn’t want to be. Feeling happy would mean I had forgotten him, and he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to disappear completely from the world he had died trying to save, unless we could disappear together. I needed to join him. I had tasted the wholeness of a life with him in it, and I couldn’t go back. Willing the cloud to consume me—swallow me into oblivion—I clutched my head and tried to crush it under my fingers. The realization that he was really gone sucked me under, filled my lungs, and drowned me in disbelief, hopelessness, and despair.

  I don’t know how long I stayed there. I cried until my body collapsed, and then when my tears quieted, I rested my head on my arm and stared numbly into nothingness, leaning against his grave as the rain dripped onto my face and the wind snaked its fingers under my tunic.

  My heart still beat. My lungs still inflated and deflated. But I felt like a piece of me—the part that made me human—had given up hope. I was dead inside. Would I have the courage to finish what we had started? To get up out of the mud, go to the old ale house, and collect the survivors that Cece would bring back? What did bringing down the Doctors matter, now that Gideon couldn’t be by my side to do it?

  If only he was here to tell me what to do. To stroke my hair and say, “Everything is going to be okay, Ruby. You can do this.”

  But he was gone.

  And it was thanks to Victor.

  Before my misery could fully morph into fury, however, a new sound joined that of the softly pattering rain and the gentle breeze, forcing my heart to freeze in my chest.

  It sounded like a car.

  Though there were no headlights, I knew what I heard, and I jumped to my feet, suddenly panicked. Disguise or not, anyone weeping over the grave of a convicted traitor would be suspect, so I darted for the trees in order to hide in their deepest shadows, my heart beating in my throat as my muscles tensed for action.

  As it got closer, I could tell that the car had mounted the sidewalk and was now driving in the graveyard itself. The tires softly pulled through the wet grass as the vehicle approached—closer and closer until it finally coasted to a stop. Right where I had been mourning.

  I was at least fifteen feet away, but I heard the engine turn off. Two doors opened and then closed, and two pairs of feet squelched through the soggy earth.

  Barely breathing, I peeked carefully around the tree, and then snapped my head back the second I had had a chance to take in the scene.

  There were two people, their faces and bodies hidden by rain jackets, wielding long shovels. They stood directly over the patch of earth I had just vacated.

  Despite the chill in the air, sweat pricked my palms as a sickening pair of thuds echoed through the night.

  I looked around the tree once more, just to make sure; those glutty jackmen were tearing up Gideon’s grave!

  Sucking in my rage, I somehow managed not to scream as they continued to work. How dare they? Hasn’t he suffered enough? What more could they possibly do to him? These questions thundered inside my head, but it was though I was frozen by my cowardice; I couldn’t force myself out of hiding to confront them.

  If the pair talked while they worked, I couldn’t hear them. Besides, the blood pounding in my ears was so loud that I could hardly hear anything at all. Angry and terrified, I stayed crouched behind the tree, barely breathing, as the two people continued with their nefarious work.

  My legs had grown stiff by the time they discarded their shovels. Were they digging with their hands now? I used a low-hanging branch to straighten myself as I peered around the tree trunk in order to get a better view—

  Crack.

  The branch snapped.

  “Get him up!” Someone shouted in a strangled, almost-familiar voice. “I think someone’s coming!”

  No! The worl
d started to spin as the pair dragged something heavy out of the grave. My legs buckled as my vision blurred, and my knees fell into the mud.

  “Hey!” I called out in a blind panic, but I couldn’t stand. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t understand—“Stop!”

  Rain streaked down my face as I finally got back to my feet and ran forward.

  But it was too late.

  The car disappeared into the darkness as soon as I reached the still-open grave.

  The now empty grave.

  I fell to me knees again and shrieked.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Victor

  Earlier

  Immediately after

  Gideon’s Burial

  Because we didn’t fully trust her, Galilea couldn’t find out about what we had done. Instead of picking Meghan up directly from her house, we had arranged to meet outside of the Factory, after dark.

  After dark, while everyone is either in or out for the evening, in front of the Factory. Good. Smart.

  It’s what Michael would have done.

  Not being the rule-breaking aficionados that Michael was, however, Meghan and I would have felt more comfortable waiting until much later in the evening, but that wasn’t exactly an option.

  Hopefully the coffin had been big enough.

  Meghan was already waiting for me when I drove up to the predetermined meeting spot.

  “You got the shovels?” she asked, climbing quickly into the car.

  “Yes. They’re in the back.”

  Along with a thick woolen blanket, an emergency first aid kit, and a portable defibrillator that we hopefully wouldn’t need.

  Putting the car into drive, I listened to the hum of the engine and the series of tiny splashes that resulted from the tires moving over wet asphalt as we drove across town. I gripped the steering wheel with trembling fingers; Meghan put her hand on my knee.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  Of course she couldn’t know that, but I appreciated the calming words, anyway. “I hope so. He trusted me, and I don’t know if I could live with myself if I let him down.”

  “I didn’t know you were such a Gideon-fan.”

  She had meant to tease me. To lighten the mood. But Michael had always been the funny one, and a man’s life was in danger. Friend or foe, I didn’t know if I could forgive myself for murder.

  She seemed to sense that and stopped trying to make me smile.

  We continued onward in silence, the swish of the windshield wipers much louder than they would have been had we been able to hold a conversation for more than a few sentences. Only one other car passed us on the road, and we got to the clinic without incident.

  I dimmed the headlights as we approached.

  “Get up as close as you can,” Meghan reminded me.

  We would leave tire marks in the soft earth, but there was no helping that. I had no control over the weather, which only reminded me, again, how little I did have control over these days.

  Once we were backed up alongside the grave site, we exited the vehicle and closed our doors softly. I reached in the back and grabbed the shovels, and by the time they were in my hands, Meghan had crossed to my side.

  I handed her one.

  Side by side, we worked silently, thrusting the metal heads into the mud. It had been a while since I had done any manual labor, but despite the steady use of my muscles, I couldn’t forget my anxiety. Couldn’t help but wonder if he was already dead.

  “What if he didn’t get enough oxygen?” Meghan breathed ten minutes later, echoing my worries as she swept her hair out of her eyes. This movement left a streak of dirt on her face.

  “That’s why we spent so much time on those breathing techniques.” I wished we would have had more time to condition him, but I doubted if I’d ever truly feel like he was ready. “As long as he didn’t panic, he should be fine.”

  It might have been my imagination, but it seemed as though her eyes were wider than usual. However, she simply nodded and continued digging.

  I followed suit.

  Sweat mingled with rain water in my hair and on my face, but thanks to my raincoat, the liquid running down my spine was purely perspiration. I had completely lost track of time as we worked steadily, side by side, but after a while, we had made quite a bit of progress. Once we had dug three feet unto the earth, however, all of my muscles were on fire, and I wasn’t sure if I could go on much longer—

  Thud.

  My hand slipped on the wooden handle beneath my palm.

  Dr. French nodded at me.

  I met Gideon’s eye again, and then pulled.

  Thud.

  It looked like his neck had broken, despite the extra short noose and the incorrectly positioned knot.

  But he was alive when we put him in the coffin. I had to keep reminding myself that.

  Without a word, Meghan handed me her shovel and stooped to continue the work with her fingertips. I tossed both tools over the lip of the hole before joining her, scraping away the remaining dirt with my hands.

  The coffin came into view. My heart pounded as I wiped away the dirt from the metal hinges.

  “I found the lock,” Meghan said breathlessly a few minutes later.

  “Break it open,” I instructed at once.

  It had been too long. I hastily joined her on the other side of the coffin as she snapped off the lock and lifted the lid. It was dark, but it was painfully obvious that Gideon’s form was worryingly still.

  My ears rang like a church bell.

  “It doesn’t look like he’s breathing.”

  “That’s the point,” I snapped back, guilt infusing my insides with an alarmingly powerful surge of nausea.

  Meghan looked at me with soaring eyebrows but didn’t say anything else.

  Quickly dropping to my knees, I jabbed my fingers into his neck, anxiously waiting for a pulse that I was sure wouldn’t be there.

  Meghan’s voice dropped so low, I could barely hear it. “Are we too late?”

  A weak thumping pushed against my fingers. “Get him up!” I ordered, gripping Gideon’s limp body under the armpits. We needed to get him warm.

  Crack.

  My heart plummeted into my stomach. “Get him up!” I shrieked this time. Pulling as hard as I could, I yanked Gideon up and out of the grave. “I think someone’s coming!”

  Through the pitch black night, my mind felt alight with panic. Barely able to patch together a coherent thought, I dragged his limp form through the mud, yanking the back door open once I reached our escape vehicle.

  “Get him into the car. We have to go.”

  Meghan acquiesced.

  “Hey!” This was a different voice. A third voice. “Stop!”

  “Get in!” I bellowed, and the car was on and in gear before Meghan had a chance to close her door.

  “Who was that?” she gasped, yanking on her seatbelt.

  “We need to make sure he’s still breathing.” I had no idea who it was, but we had to get out of there, and we had to keep Gideon alive. “We shouldn’t have moved him so quickly.”

  “So he’s still alive?” She had already released her seatbelt and was clambering into the back seat.

  “Get the blankets.” I pointed over my shoulder, though it was unnecessary. Not for nothing had Meghan been my assistant for all of these months. “Warm him up.”

  She didn’t say anything, but I heard her working quickly behind me. “Come on Gideon, wake up,” she whispered, obviously starting rhythmic chest compressions. “Come on.”

  I didn’t turn the car lights back on as she worked, but I drove carefully, keeping to the less-travelled roads.

  Driving the backroads is more shady Michael said in my head.

  I don’t have a choice, I replied. If I drive around with no headlights, that’ll be shady, too.

  Then turn them on.

  Not while Meghan is back there. She’d be visible from the street.

  At least take a couple of loops around Liminis
.

  I turned left.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to make sure we aren’t being followed.”

  She didn’t respond, but the noises from the back seat resumed.

  I turned left again.

  And Gideon gasped.

  ---

  The graveyard was empty again when I went back to fill in the grave. It was slow work without Meghan’s help, but Gideon wasn’t in any shape to be left alone. Though it didn’t appear he had been unconscious long enough to have suffered brain damage, his heart rate was low and his muscle response weak, and he would need constant supervision.

  If nothing changed, it would have been a stupid thing to do; if everything changed . . . well, we pulled it off, didn’t we?

  Michael would have approved.

  Beside the tire tracks, which I did my best to cover, the grave site looked almost exactly as it had when we first arrived, nearly five hours ago. Feeling a little smug, I wiped my hands on my pants and collected the shovels, knowing that we still had a lot to do, but also that we had just cheated death.

  It was extremely early in the morning, and I was covered in dirt and sweat, so I drove as normally as possible in order to avoid arousing suspicion. But stormy nights led to low activity from both citizens and police officers alike, and I saw no one as I cruised back to my apartment.

  “How did it go?” Meghan asked, as soon as I had shut the door behind me.

  “Fine. I didn’t see anyone. The site looks good. Untouched.”

  She visibly deflated with relief, and I hurried over to take her in my arms.

  “The hard part is over.”

  Allowing herself to collapse into my chest, she shuddered instead of answering.

  After a moment, I gently untangled myself and peered into the bedroom. “How’s he doing?”

  Gideon appeared to be asleep, and his face was pale.

  “I got him to eat.” She turned to stand by my side, watching him with crossed arms. “He’s weak, and his blood pressure is a little high, but he seems relatively unscathed.”