A spider crawls across the floor just by my boots. I keep my eyes on it and watch it scurry away. Back to its web. Its home. I don’t know why, but my eyes start to burn with moisture. I clear my throat and chase away all thoughts of having a home again.
Not that I ever really had one anyway.
* * *
Mallory.
I should feel more reassured that Cristan is waiting outside, but I don’t. The shower room is sterile and cold. It reminds me of the hospital where I was deemed Irrelevant. I strip off my clothes and send a quick look over my shoulder in case someone is lurking in the empty clinic room, but there is nothing save old examination tables and emptied shelves and cupboards.
It takes me a moment to figure out the antiquated shower system. There’s no automated spray and it seems to be missing a dryer. Shivers run down my body as I wait for the water temperature to rise. My feet are both itchy and sore, so I mutter at the water and growl for its slowness. I wrap my arms around my aching body and utter a sigh of relief when the water starts to send steam into the small cubicle.
I step inside, ready to wash off the grime of the last day when the water hits me like a thousand needles pricking into my skin. My breath locks in my chest as I raise my still painful arms out of the water’s reach. I wash awkwardly as I try to keep my arms from enduring the scolding pain contact brings.
I stand with my arms outstretched and let the water saturate my hair. When I can’t hold my arms up any longer, I search the shelf built into the shower lining for a body cleanser, but I only find what Cristan must have used. I grasp the bottle and pop the top open, ready to test it. I squeeze a portion into my hand and smell a musky fragrance that makes me think of Cristan. There is nothing else to wash with, so I disregard the idea it’s too masculine and douse my hair with it.
I step out of the water spray and lather my tangled hair as best as I can. When I think I’m as clean as I can get and it’s almost impossible to keep the water from trailing down my body and arms, I wince through the pain and wash as quickly as I can. I hurry to wrap myself in the soft fabric hanging on a rail beside the shower cubicle. I dry as quickly and as thoroughly as my burnt skin allows for and pull the clothes in that Kit had left me.
They are similar to what she had in her hut, but I’m disappointed at the lack of colour. The pants with pockets are a dull tan, not quite the shade of Cristan’s eyes, and the form-fitting shirt is so worn it’s almost grey. I stare down at my feet and scrunch up my face. I’m not sure if I should be wearing the boots, but if we’re going to explore and see the lights Kit was talking about, I want to be ready to go.
There is no room inside the cubicle to sit, just a small rack for clothes, so I leave my dirty clothes inside and take my boots into the clinic with me. At the first bench, I hop up and place the boots alongside me. I’m about to pull the first one over my bare feet when I hear a sound behind me.
Cristan is leaning in the doorway. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “Leave them off for a few more hours.” He steps into the room and looks at my feet again. He scratches his chin and smiles at me. “I should have thought to bring a change of dressing.” A thoughtful look crosses his face, then the smile returns in a way that makes my stomach jump around. “I can carry you back.” I start to protest that’s it’s too far and that I don’t want to be slung over his shoulder like before, but he’s sliding his arms under my legs and bringing me towards him. He lifts me so I’m pressed against his body. His cheeks flush and he jerks his head towards my boots. “Grab them.”
I do as he says and place them in my lap while he turns smoothly and carries me like it’s nothing to him. My heart begins to thump around ‘til it’s roaring in my ears, but I don’t care, and I’m too busy trying not to stare at him, to acknowledge it might look strange should anyone see us. My arms feel redundant where they are, so I slide them around his neck. His eyebrow rises, but a smile lights his face.
Cristan gently places me down on the bed. He takes the boots from me and throws them to one side. Heat starts to blaze through me that has nothing to do with my sunburn as he sits at my feet again. He grabs the medical bag he must have used before and finds what he needs. With almost as much confidence as Kit, he peels back the plaster on my feet and starts applying the salve to my blisters.
A shiver travels the length of me as his fingers meet the sensitive skin of my feet. My breathing starts to speed with every measured touch. My skin rises uncontrollably, and I have to think about something else to stop the desire swelling inside me.
Voices come from outside, reminding me that we aren’t alone anymore. I sigh as Cristan cocks his head towards the sound. With a half-hearted smile I really don’t feel, I try to calm the storm inside my body by pointing to the cards.
“Will you teach me to play a game now?” I say.
* * *
Cristan.
For some reason as I pick up the cards, memories start to surface, ones that I hadn’t thought of in years. I turn the cards over in my hands and see Jed’s face, but he’s not the boy he is today. He’s barely a week old. He’s sick, like he has been since the day he was labelled Irrelevant. He’s a tiny shrivelled pink thing I have no idea how to take care of. He’s coughing up green gunk that even my twelve-year-old self knows is bad.
I’m shaking because I’m terrified. Terrified that no one can help him. Terrified that I’d made it worse somehow by stealing my baby brother. Drew takes me into the rec room. My skin is burnt. Nose red raw from two hours in the unfiltered sun before Drew found me.
Jed is with Jackie, and Drew’s taking a seat and shoving a deck of old playing cards across the table. His expression gives nothing away. “Ever play 52 pick up?”
I shake my head and tried not to stare at the door in case Jackie or someone else rushes back in with bad news. My foot is tapping on the floor, heart racing, and sweat is dripping down my spine as I wait. Drew catches my attention with a wave, then he grabs the cards and throws them into the air. He starts to chuckle like it’s a great joke. I’m flummoxed when he gestures to the floor where the cards have scattered.
“52 cards. Now you get to pick them all up.” I gape at him, thinking he is a crazy moron, thinking I’ve made a huge mistake, but he only slaps my shoulder hard and grins at me. “Hop to it.”
I scowl at him to mask my fear but with nothing else to do, I comply and scrape the cards from the sticky rec room floor. By the time I’d gathered them all together, I’m angry and scared, ready to say he’s wasting my time when Jackie appears in the doorway. Jed’s wrapped up in a soft blanket like I’ve seen the other mothers do for their Relevant babies. He’s breathing okay and he’s sound asleep in her arms like she’s the mother he deserves. For the first time in my life, I stop pushing down the pain and the anger, and I start crying.
The memory slams into me, and I can’t shake it. The pain, the fear, the guilt, and the dread he wouldn’t make it through the night is right there with me, like it’s happening now and not six years ago. The tears start to sting my eyes again and I have to blink hard to hide them from Mallory. I hate that I feel so weak. I hate that I can’t contact him, and I hate that my emotions are all leaching out of me uncontrollably.
My eyes are so blurry, it’s hard to see the cards, and in order to hide from Mallory, I duck my chin like I’m concentrating on shuffling them. She isn’t buying it, though. When I sneak a look, her face is filled with concern and she’s shifting closer to me.
I carry on mucking around with the already split deck in a desperate attempt to keep my hands and mind occupied. I need to keep it together. In a few hours, I can get a message to Jed, tell him I’m safe, that I’m trying to find a way out of this so I can come home to him.
Maybe if I can go back to him and find a way to make things right, this horrific guilt over leaving him will stop tearing me in two.
* * *
Mallory.
Cristan explains the rules of the game, but I’m so distracted b
y how weary he seems, he has to repeat himself several times. When I finally understand, so much time has passed that Kit and Trey arrive to take us to see the lights. I’m off the bed, game abandoned the second Kit asks if we’re ready. Cristan is less enthusiastic, but he follows as we step back out into the hall.
We don’t see Jackson as we leave by way of another set of stairs. The old zoo is eerily quiet in the darkening night. The empty cages and the way our footsteps echo in the quiet unnerves me. I glance at Cristan and from the way his eyes are shifting about as we follow Trey and Kit, he feels it too.
I try to imagine what the Zoo would have been like when it was filled with long-dead animals, when Irrelevant and Relevant had gathered here together. It’s hard to picture how it would all work. How would the work be designated if not by a Relevance system?
I sigh and try not to wince at the pain in the soles of my feet. Kit smiles at me as we reach a ladder attached to the side of a high wall. “You okay to climb?” I nod, though I’ve never climbed anything in my life. I step aside so I can watch how the others do it. Kit goes first, her hands and feet nimbly gripping the rungs as she flies upwards as though she’s done it a hundred times before. She disappears over the top of the wall and Trey is next. He grins at me, winks, then ascends as quickly as Kit did.
My heart starts to thump quickly, and despite the cool air my palms are feeling clammy. I swipe them down my trousers and swallow hard. Cristan’s fingers lace into mine and his mouth tugs upwards into a half-smile. “I’ll be right behind you.” He releases my fingers and steps to the ladder. “Take your time, hold onto the bar, and take a step up.” I must look confused because he grabs hold of the rung with both hands and lifts a leg so his foot is perching on the bottom rung. “Right leg first. Then left. Get your balance, then do the same with your hands.” He climbs up to show me, then jumps down and smiles crookedly at me. “Give it a try.”
I’m about to do as he says when Kit’s head appears at the top of the wall. “Hurry up!”
My legs are shaking, but I grip the bar and keep Cristan’s instructions in mind as I start to climb. The ladder vibrates as he starts to climb behind me. I don’t want to look down in case my brain connects the risk I’m taking, so I carry on as steadily as my shaking limbs can manage. I’m out of breath, my muscles are trembling with unaccustomed use, but I feel a measure of pride when I’ve made it to the top.
Kit is beaming at me like I’ve done something good. Her smile is so similar to the way Constance looked when I followed her instructions on how to act that a knot forms in my stomach. Trey reaches a hand to assist me but I shake my head and carefully ease myself over the top until I’m standing on the roof alongside them. I shift my balance to ease the load on my feet and study the elevation we’re at. My hair is blowing about, irritating me, making me wish I’d tied it back.
Under my feet are grey tiles which stretch outwards almost twenty metres away from where I stand. I feel a little less anxious when Cristan climbs over seconds later. His eyes lock onto me and he steps across the roof so he’s standing between me and Trey. The sky is growing darker by the second, which makes me wonder how we can safely climb down again.
Trey ambles off down the roof and calls over his shoulder at us. “I’ll get the drinks.”
Kit huffs a breath and looks at me. “That’s the only reason he even comes up here. To get pissed and try to pair up with me.”
Cristan’s brow knots as we start walking in the direction Trey has gone, but he doesn’t ask the question I’m dying to. “Where’s Jackson?”
Kit doesn’t seem surprised. She answers in a flat voice. “He’s checking something out.”
Cristan’s lips press tightly together and his posture grows even tenser as we walk. I’m too filled with anticipation to worry about why he wanted Jackson to be here. I don’t stop myself from asking Kit the question that’s been bubbling away for hours. “What are the lights?”
Kit grins at me and points at the darkening sky to her left. “Aurora Australis.” I squint and try to see, but she shakes her head. “You won’t see it for a few minutes. Plenty of time to get comfy.” She gestures to where Trey is setting up low backed chairs. There’s a large box in the middle of the roof which looks oddly out of place. He’s so busy pulling things out, he barely acknowledges us as we reach him.
Cristan is looking at Kit, his frown persisting. “But how do you know when they’ll appear? They’re formed from electromagnetic—”
Kit scowls at him as she accepts a tall bottle of liquid from Trey. “Don’t spoil it for her. This is the first time she’s seen them.”
My eyes dart between them as they glare at each other. The tension in Cristan’s body grows and his jaw starts to work furiously. He looks down at me and his expression lightens a little. “Fine. Tell me after.”
Kit shrugs and takes a seat, stretching her legs out on the chair. She glances up at me and cocks her head. “Take a seat. Grab a drink. This is going to be wicked.” Her eyes follow me as I take a seat and emulate her relaxed posture by stretching my legs out. Cristan sits, but his posture remains rigid, even when he accepts a bottle from a grinning Trey.
Before Trey takes a seat, he offers me a bottle of the drink that Kit has nearly finished. I look sidelong at Cristan, to see if he’s drinking his, but he’s too busy scowling and frowning at Kit and Trey to notice.
I hold onto my bottle and wait for the light show to start.
Chapter 5
Cristan.
I’m too worked up to even notice when faint lights appear on the horizon. I don’t like not knowing where and what Jackson is doing, but I can’t leave Mallory here, and it might be an opportunity to pry loose a few answers from Trey. He’s on his second drink, I’ve had enough homebrew to know what it looks like. Since I haven’t seen any brewing equipment anywhere, I can only guess it’s somewhere else.
It’s the somewhere else that’s driving me even crazier than I already am. They’re hiding too much for me to let my guard down entirely, but I need to appear relaxed so I ease back on the old sun loungers they seem to have scavenged. I take a long swallow of my drink and try not to shudder at the potency. I don’t want to push my luck so I watch the southern lights as they start to dance over the sky. It’s hard not to be impressed. I’m not exactly a poetic kind of guy, but there is a certain beauty in the display.
I watch the greens merged with the pinks, growing more visible against the dark sky. No one is talking, Trey is more intent in drinking, but there’s a certain appreciation on his face that makes me think there’s more to him than a knucklehead who jumps when Jackson tells him to. I can’t see Kit, Mallory is blocking my view of her, but I think I hear her sigh like it’s something she’s in awe of.
I crane my neck to look at Mallory, mainly to see if she’s enjoying it. All the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the look on her face. Even in the dark, with the coloured lights, I can see tears streaming down her face. Her lips are open, eyes wide, one hand gripping the side of her chair, the other around the bottle she’s not drunk from.
She rises slowly and Kit grabs the bottle from her hand. Mallory doesn’t even slow, her eyes locked on the swirling colours as they illuminate the night sky. I bolt to my feet, in case she doesn’t notice the edge of the roof, but she stops and lifts her hands like she’s trying to touch the colours. Behind us, Kit murmurs and Trey chuckles, but I’m oblivious to their potential mockery as I try to remember what I felt the first time I saw them.
A smile flickers at my lips as Mallory starts to hum quietly, she keeps her hands in the air and starts to sway from side to side. I barely breathe, just stand mesmerised by the way she’s responding to the colours. I don’t know if she’s aware of me, and I don’t want to spoil her moment so I jam my hands into my pockets and stand guard over her in case she gets so lost in the moment she doesn’t think about the ten-metre drop to the earth below.
Her hands stay in the air, her body never stilling. If
I had to describe her at that moment, I’d be hard pressed to describe how at home she seems. She is at that moment the closest thing to an angel I think I’ll ever see. For a moment I forget where I am, forget how much it aches being away from my brother, and I just enjoy watching her, watch colours she’s been denied all her life.
I don’t know how long I watch her, I don’t know how much time passes by, but I can hear bottle caps loosening and drinks being finished. Mallory doesn’t waver from her position. Her arms stay up like she’s trying to connect with the colours until they start to slowly fade away. Her hands drop to her sides and she turns to look at me, she’s almost dazed as she swallows hard. “Will they come back?”
There’s so much longing in her voice, I want to reassure her by explaining they’ll be here for a few months, that it’s explainable by science, but something stops me. Her face holds such wonder, such excitement, who am I to explain away all the beauty? Whatever, or however they appear, the lights are magnificent, and she deserves to have that innocence unsullied by a cynical lout like me.
She’s still waiting for an answer and Kit gives it from behind us. “They’ll be here again tomorrow.”
I’m almost relieved when the two look like they’re not going anywhere. Kit is still drinking, and Trey has taken Mallory’s seat, I can only imagine in an attempt to charm Kit. I take another swig and sit beside Trey and gesture to Mallory to sit too. I’m about to ask how we’ll see to get down from here when tiny track lights illuminate along the edge of the roof. Blue light marks the way to the ladder and ensures we don’t take a wrong step and plummet to the ground.
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