Bad Bloods

by Shannon A. Thompson

  “I will,” Violet promised. “I’ll stop in more often, too.”

  You won’t drown. You will survive.

  You will. You will. You will.

  “I’d like that,” Ami said, but before she could elaborate, Marion approached.

  “Ameline,” she said, then kneeled next to her daughter. “No, Ami,” she corrected, while she touched Ami’s face, hair, and hands. “I want you to go back with Violet.”

  Ami leaned back as if slapped. “What?”

  “I left you with the Southern Flock in a turbulent time,” her mother said, her accent deepening, her demeanor shaking. “This time, you leave me behind in a storm.”

  She wanted to give her daughter a chance to live. Again.

  “But—”

  “Take these,” Marion said as she pulled delicate gloves out of her purse and placed them in Ami’s hands. “Trust that we’ll see one another again.”

  Ami’s unshed tears began to tumble and fall. Marion held her close before too many could see, and I wondered if this was what Serena had witnessed all those years ago—when Ami became the only bad blood of the two flocks to be born in the Highlands.

  “I even brought you this,” Marion said as she pulled away from her daughter and placed a bottle of lilac perfume in her hands. Another gift. “Take it with you and remember me.”

  Violet turned her back to the two to suppress her eye roll.

  “Highlanders and their perfume,” I whispered, and she giggled. I loved the sound of her laugh. I loved the sound of her opinions more.

  “It doesn’t even smell that good,” Violet said.

  “It’s not all bad,” I argued, though it often reminded me of the potpourri Jia-Li stuffed in the back of a dresser drawer for too long. “I know I’m getting paid more when I smell it.”

  “And he was obsessed with it for a little while,” Kuthun added as he joined us, Britney on his shoulders. “What was that god-awful stench anyway? Sandalwood? Musk?”

  A light blush rose to my cheeks, and I mumbled the answer beneath my breath.

  “What was that?” Kuthun pressed. Britney pulled my hair. Both laughed. Violet couldn’t help but join.

  Teasing between the group of us felt natural now. Like Violet belonged. Like Kuthun and Britney and I not only liked Violet to be there, but also expected her to be. She seemed to want it, too.

  “Come on,” Violet insisted, pinching my arm. “Tell us.”

  “Seashore,” I said, but louder this time. “It was called Seashore.”

  “And it smelled like chemicals,” Kuthun joked, “but I guess they’re not much different here.”

  Violet enjoyed his wit, too.

  While they continued to jest, I arched my neck and looked up at the sunny sky.

  How was it that a storm like no other would rain down upon us in three days’ time?

  How would I tell Hanna we wouldn’t drown?

  How would anyone survive in the Highlands?

  “We’ll be okay.” Catelyn promised a promise she could never keep. “I’ll get someone to board up our house, and—” She choked, then she lifted her fingers to her head. Soon, they found the scar on her cheek. The one without a story yet. But I did know part of Catelyn’s story.

  She’d been in love with Steven—probably always would be—and he could morph anything, including wood, into a new shape.

  He could’ve boarded up her house easily.

  Adam cleared his throat. “I’m unemployed,” he said, cocking a smile as he gestured to the empty space where his part of the wall used to stand. “I can help board up your home. And others’ homes, too. I’m kinda fast.”

  “But—” Violet started to protest, only for him to flash his palm at her.

  His signal for silence.

  A plea to listen.

  She hadn’t forgotten her old friends either.

  Catelyn pushed her lips to the side. “But Daniel could use your help.”

  “Daniel can learn to live without my help,” Adam countered. “Plus, he has Serena.”

  And Adam lost Maggie. And Catelyn lost Steven.

  Those two got one another.

  Kuthun elbowed Violet as if to prove a point.

  I rolled my eyes at him, but Violet stepped forward. “You should go, Adam,” she encouraged before speaking to Catelyn, “He’s a great worker. He’ll help everyone.”

  As if Catelyn needed permission from the Northern Flock to take in one of their members, she nodded. “Okay,” she said and gestured to her car. “We’ll part ways here then.”

  Adam dug his knuckles against Violet’s hair playfully. “I’ll see you around, Vi. Take care of my cousin, too.”

  Then, he was gone.

  No good-byes. No hugs. No promises to come back alive.

  Adam, like Marion, like Catelyn, like the president himself, would stay in harm’s way knowingly for the greater good.

  But it wasn’t over yet.

  “We can stop Connelly,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” Kuthun argued, but softly this time. We shuffled into the nearest car to cross the last border. “We would have to convince the public to go against her—to fight Henderson’s order, too.”

  I put my hands over Britney’s ears. She danced like my hands were headphones. “But if they sink it now, they’re all going to die.”

  “No one’s going to die,” Violet interjected, but she stared out the window as if she could see all the souls about to be lost. “I can’t promise they won’t sink the wall, but I know we’ll find a way to keep the city standing.”

  “How?” I asked.

  Violet leaned dreamily against her hand. “First step involves you.”

  I pointed at my chest where my heart pounded. “Me?”

  I put my hands back over Britney’s ears. She stopped dancing this time. Instead, she reached her little hands up to grab mine. I let her. And I let Kuthun, too. When he stretched his hand out and open, I saw that he lacked palm lines, and I was reminded that he—unlike everyone else—held no fate. But what could fate bring to someone like him? To someone like me? To someone like anyone I’d met?

  “You,” Kuthun repeated, agreeing with Violet. “We have to get the kids to safety.”

  “Ah,” I hummed, figuring it out, then surrendered. “Let’s go get them then.”

  Ami perked up at our vocabulary. “Them?”

  “The herd,” I clarified.

  Violet told her friend all about the new bad bloods she had met on our island. Apparently, she’d already told her about Hanna, but Hanna’s boyfriend, Yasir, caught Ami’s attention the most.

  “Be careful near him,” Violet explained. “You might hurt people when you touch them, but he took out his own eye.”

  “Turned into a sapphire,” I confirmed.

  Ami’s eyes went wide. “Does he ever touch anyone?”

  Violet nodded, then wiggled her fingers. “He has gloves.”

  “Like these?” Ami looked down at the ones her mother gave her, but Violet shook her head.

  “Just leather ones.”

  “These gloves…” Ami paused. “They’re special.”

  Kuthun raised a brow. “How?”

  “Maman.” Ami smiled at the word. “She’s good at finding secrets.”

  Ami told us of a man in the outskirts, a nameless one who studied bad bloods and helped them. He’d spent two months with her to figure out what materials and fabrics bothered her the most. Once he gained enough knowledge about her, he sewed gloves that prevented her from hurting herself or anyone else. He even designed them to look beautiful, to blend into the Highlands at a moment’s notice. But she didn’t wear them always. She preferred to treasure them instead.

  “There are good people in there,” Ami finished. “Geniuses.”

  And now, they were doomed—but not if we could stop it.

  When our car reached the safe haven, Ami blended into our group flawlessly. She even volunteered to kn
ock first. The door opened right away.

  “Ami?” Daniel stuck his head out. “Vi? Caleb?”

  “Kuthun,” Kuthun joked, then pointed to himself.

  “And Britney!” the little girl exclaimed.

  All the while, Daniel stood blinking and confused.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, the question directed at Ami more than anyone else.

  She was supposed to be in the Highlands, not standing on the adoption house’s stoop.

  “We have a lot to tell you,” she explained.

  “Clearly.”

  “What’s going on out there?” Serena asked before she appeared over Daniel’s shoulder.

  “A lot,” I answered, happy to have everyone together at once, “but first, do you have enough room in here for a herd?”

  The adoption house filled with whispers that ascended into shouts. One kid talking over another turned into a war of voices. I feared which of them could scream the loudest.

  “You’re sure they’ll be safe here?” Daniel asked, eyeing them from the corner. Serena stood by his side, Serah molded against one leg and Melody on the other. Her parents, along with Cal, were among the adults searching the streets for others who needed cover from the quickly approaching storm.

  According to Catelyn, we had two days.

  “Safe is strong word,” Caleb clarified, “but safer isn’t.”

  How much damage the streets took depended on the rainfall, the surge, and whether the inner wall still stood. But at least the outskirts stood a chance.

  In the past day, we’d managed to explain most of it, but a few topics went undiscussed.

  “Adam stayed behind to help Catelyn,” I finally said.

  Serena bit her lip, while Daniel laid a hand on her shoulder. “If anyone can board up the houses fast enough, it’s him.”

  Or, perhaps, both would lose their best friends to a storm.

  “If we stop Connelly from taking down the rest of the inner wall…” Caleb faded off, leaving the possibilities hanging in the air.

  If we stopped her, the Highlands stood a better chance. If we didn’t, the outskirts did.

  “Why help them after what they did to us?” Kat asked.

  Frankie slapped the back of her head. “You’re better than that.”

  Kat hissed as if she wasn’t, but the way she cozied up to Frankie told us otherwise. She was just scared, especially of water.

  “If you don’t mind me,” Frankie continued, “I’m going to find higher ground.”

  Daniel pointed above. “We go up twelve floors.”

  “That’s a cursed number,” Kuthun said.

  “I thought thirteen was.”

  Kuthun lifted his hands as if everyone could see the strings holding the universe together. “All numbers can be cursed; it’s a matter of what currently is.”

  Daniel stared, but he didn’t mutter a word. Instead, I caught Frankie’s eyes. “Best stay on the eleventh.”

  She nodded, and so did Kat. The two ran off.

  I hoped to see them again.

  I hoped to see many people again.

  “How many can we hold in here?” I asked, eyeing the wooden walls, cement floors, and leaking ceilings.

  Earlier that month, the Western Adoption House seemed like the answer to everything. A stronghold for the weak. Now, I worried if we were fools to believe anyone could be safe in Vendona.

  “Legally?” Daniel’s frown became a permanent part of him. “We’re way over the limit already, but…” He sighed. “One hundred more at best.”

  Though the facility went up twelve floors, the building itself was cramped. It could’ve housed single-person apartments back in the day. If I recalled all the years I stayed in the shadows, I might have known, too. But this place was like a hundred others.

  It was just a building.

  Now, hopefully, it would save us.

  “Dad’s scouting the streets,” Serena said, all while holding her two sisters close. While Serah seemed to soak up the attention, Melody flickered in and out of invisibility. “But that doesn’t help…”

  The Highlands.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Daniel said, though even he appeared to struggle to believe himself.

  Bad bloods had put their lives on the line so often and for so long, it seemed unfathomable to do it again for the very city that kept us out and wished for our deaths.

  “We should help,” I said, “because Marion is in there.”

  Daniel ran a hand through his hair. “And Henderson.”

  “More than that.” Ami spoke from her place against the wall. She fiddled with her gloved hands and stayed near Serena, who nearly cried upon their reunion. “There are good people behind that wall.”

  People like the man who made Ami’s gloves.

  “I agree,” Serena seconded. “I saw them from the limo.”

  Regular people. Everyday people. Just people caught up in it all with no say as to what side they fell on.

  “But how?” Caleb asked, eyeing the crowd as more kids filtered in. “We don’t have time to get back to the Highlands and warn them.”

  “Plus, Catelyn already did,” Serena said.

  Behind her, a radio rattled off directions for hurricane relief, but at no point did the speaker clarify how terrible it would be. How many people could die. What could—and would be—lost.

  “We can’t take them out of the Highlands,” I agreed, “but we can lessen the damage.”

  “Connelly is blowing up the rest of that wall whether we like it or not,” Daniel said. “And, quite frankly, it needs to go.”

  “Of course it needs to go,” I agreed, “but it’s going for the wrong reasons. For dangerous reasons.”

  “And stopping her now would only put us in more danger,” Daniel argued. “Our job is protecting this facility.”

  And our best chances relied on the Highlands drowning instead of us.

  I balled my hands into fists.

  Daniel sighed. “Let’s get this place boarded up, yeah?”

  I bit my lip, but followed orders.

  For now, Daniel was right. But Daniel had been right before, and it usually didn’t last very long.

  Still, I picked up a bag full of nails and wood. “Anyone actually want to help?” I addressed the crowd.

  Only a few of the older kids raised their hands. The rest of them huddled in corners and held one another like life rafts for a flood that hadn’t come yet.

  Together, we could stop Connelly. I just knew it. But first, we had to get together.

  “Those idiots,” Caleb muttered, watching at Calhoun—his father—showed another group of kids in. “None of them are here.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Ranker. Isidor. Skeleton.” The kids from the Pits. “They could’ve chosen to stay, but…”

  More than likely, they’d been locked underground.

  Caleb reached over to the coat rack and pulled his jacket on. “I’m going.”

  Kuthun stepped forward. “But—”

  “Stay here,” Caleb interrupted, then looked at me. “I’ll be back.”

  And before we could stop him, Caleb ducked out of the doors and disappeared against the bright sunlight. Britney immediately began to cry. Kuthun didn’t.

  “When he sets his mind to it, he comes back,” he promised, but his promise was quickly shattered.

  “Where’s Caleb?” Levi asked, eyes wild, hair wilder.

  “Just left,” I said. “To the Pits.”

  Levi cursed like the sailor he was. Then, he went to tear his hair out.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, only for the worst to happen.

  “Plato’s gone.”

  “What?” I arched my neck, searching the crowd for the boy with a fragile heart. “Where would he go?”

  “The glass castle, of course.”

  Serah. Next to Serena, she spoke for the first time, reminding us all that she only spoke when things were dire. “The boy with two e
yes?” She also spoke like the poems she wrote. I thought of Plato’s heterochromia and saw no other way of putting it. “He read my poem, and said he had one. A glass castle.”

  At this, Serena grabbed her little sister. “Why would he go back?”

  “He wanted to show it to me,” Serah said, her eyes alight, “so he went back to make sure it didn’t go underwater.”

  Levi blanched. My heart stopped.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Serah asked, but no one answered.

  Instead, Daniel positioned his body so that he stood between Serah and Levi, his back to the little girl.

  “That demolition is set for an hour from now,” Daniel whispered.

  “And if the eastern wall is already under when the northern collapses…” Kuthun faded off, but the implications were clear. The bordel, the place where he met Caleb on his deathbed, along with the island they made home, would soon be gone.

  “That island has to be halfway underwater by now,” Levi spoke, monotone.

  I strapped on my boots. “I’ll go get him.”

  Levi looked down as I zipped up the right calf. I finished before I met his eyes, then stood straight and met his height.

  Levi and I had a strained relationship—one I wasn’t sure how to define—but those could often be the most interesting kinds. The types that kept one up at night thinking—What if? How about? Why not?

  If we hadn’t met under the threat of the sea, could we have been friends? If I didn’t already know he’d left his brother behind, could I trust him to never leave me behind? Then again, maybe he’d taught me a lesson in moving on, and, today, another decision had to be made.

  “I’m coming with,” he declared, but I fought back.

  “I can go on my own.”

  “And what?” he bit back. “Let the sea witch drag you away?” When he yanked on a jacket, his head of curls bounced about. “Yah don’t know how to drive a damn tugboat, and I’m not lettin’ yah go as a shadow. That sea will sweep yah away.”

  My weakness. Someone had told Levi, whether it be Caleb, Kuthun, Hanna, or the sea itself. The ocean could separate me and take me away. And she’d take his brother, too. The very brother Levi tried to protect by leaving.

  Sometimes, people were left behind by others for their own good. Levi had taught me that. But I had a lesson of my own to teach.