by David Estes
“Sounds good.” I’m hoping he’s just interested in being my friend—nothing more—because I’m starting to like Brody. He just seems so…real.
Brody moves in close, closer than I’d like but not close enough where it’s uncomfortable, guiding a pistol into my hands, showing me how to hold it, how to aim it. “See, you have to hold it slightly lower than the target you’re aiming at, because unlike a bow or a slingshot, a gun has some serious kickback. When you pull that trigger, it’s going to squirm on you. That’s why your first shot went way too high.” I feel the warmth of his hands on my skin, as if they’re burning through me. I have the sudden urge to push them away, but I want to learn so I don’t. “Does all that make sense?” he asks, his eyes close to mine.
“Uh, yeah. I think so. Thanks,” I add. We take the first shot together, a burst of flame, a jerk against my hands, and a shock through my arms. A wisp of smoke trails from the muzzle.
Finally Brody releases me and I feel the tension leave my body. For some reason, it’s a relief.
“Do you see where the bullet hit?” Brody says.
“Wh—what?”
“The bullet? Did you see if we hit the target?” There’s a twinkle in his eye and I know that he already knows.
“No. It went so fast I couldn’t see it.”
“It’s not so much seeing it as feeling it. Trust me, you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s go check it out. Race me!” he whoops, and starts running.
Without thinking, I give chase, accelerating quickly to make up his head start. As we race, it reminds me of Camp Blood and Stone, when Tristan and I raced after we rescued my father. Except this time I’m not racing Tristan, a guy I barely know, I’m racing Brody, another guy I barely know. My life feels strange, like everyone I’m interacting with are just rocks in a swirling underground river, put in my path by chance alone.
With the head start, Brody beats me easily, but he would have beaten me anyway, his long legs gaining ground ahead of me with each stride. At the end we’re both hunched over, our hands on our knees, breathing heavily from the exertion. Which I like, because it means Brody didn’t go easy on me. He didn’t underestimate me. Which means he respects me.
“Dead center,” he says.
“What?” I say, wondering if that is what soldiers say in the army when they win something.
“The bullet you fired—it hit dead center.”
I look up, still panting, and see that he’s right. A hole the width of my thumb is drilled through the bull’s-eye of the target, not even touching the edges of the painted-on red circle. I laugh. “It was your shot, not mine.”
“True,” he says, laughing.
Could Brody be like an older brother to me? “How old are you?” I blurt out, right away wishing I hadn’t asked. It makes me sound like I’m interested in him—which I’m not.
Brody’s laugh reaches his eyes and the single dimple is deeper than I’ve ever seen before. “Does it matter?” Matter for what? I think I know what he means, but I’m not going to say it.
“I was just curious,” I say nonchalantly, looking away. “Forget it. Let’s go shoot some more.”
I start to walk back toward where we left the pistol, but Brody stops me with a hand on my wrist. I feel a crackle of electricity through my skin. “Twenty-two,” he says.
“Oh.” He’s younger than he looks. I was guessing at least twenty-five.
I pull away from his hand and walk quickly back to the guns. The clop of his boots on the rock slab echoes behind me but I walk fast enough that he doesn’t catch up. I need to get out of here; I feel like every second I’m with him he’s getting bolder.
“I’ve got to go,” I say as Brody pulls astride.
“But we’ve only just started the lesson,” he says, looking at me with one eyebrow raised.
“I just forgot something I had to do.” It’s a bad lie, no detail, obvious.
But Brody doesn’t question it. Just says, “Okay, no problem. How about one last shot with the pistol?”
I shrug. Sure, why not? Taking the pistol from him, I use both hands to line up the shot, like he taught me. Finding the target, I compensate for the gun’s kick by lowering my aim ever so slightly. Keep my arms locked, my hands steady, my eye on the target. Pull the trigger. Pop! The gun is like a live animal in my hands, throwing them up and back, but I manage to hang onto it.
“Well done,” Brody says. “That was much better. If my stellar eyesight is right, you nicked the top of the third ring up from the center. I’ve seen practiced shooters do worse.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m starting to get the hang of it, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Before I know what’s happening, he leans into me, his breath on my lips, his eyes on fire. I know what he’s going to do. I saw that same look of longing in Tristan’s eyes before I left him, and I know my own eyes mirrored it back at him. But this time I know my eyes are only filled with horror. Brody’s going to kiss me.
I pull away awkwardly. “Well, anyway…thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”
Brody sighs, pushes his feathery hair off his forehead. He looks stung, like I’ve just slapped him. “Uh, yeah, no problem.” It’s the first time he hasn’t sounded completely sure of himself, and I feel bad about it, because it’s my fault. He’s been nothing but nice to me. He doesn’t know that I’m thinking of him as a brother. “And I’m sorry.”
Not what I expected him to say. What is he apologizing for? I’m the one who brushed him off. “No, Brody, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. Look, I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Sure.” He sounds defeated and I have the sudden urge to put my arm around him, show him that I do care about his feelings, that I want to be his friend.
Instead, I just turn on my heel and walk away to find Tawni and my mom.
Chapter Twenty
Tristan
Sitting next to Ben the next day, I feel discouraged. The rest of the yesterday’s meeting didn’t go very well. We gained the support of five additional VPs, although the other Moon Realm leaders ridiculed them for it. So now we have eighteen out of forty-two, less than half. It’s not what any of us had hoped for.
“Will eighteen subchapters be enough?” I ask.
“Jonas,” Ben says, “you know how it works as well as I do. What are your thoughts?” I can tell Ben doesn’t feel like talking about the rebellion right now. And I know why. His wife was there. Adele’s mom. Like me, all he’s thinking about is the fact that she’s okay, that she’s a general in the star dweller army, and he’s wondering whether Adele found her, whether she is okay, too. All I want to do is get out of this strategy meeting and talk to Ben in private.
Jonas is speaking and I try to push aside my personal thoughts to focus on what he’s saying. “…without a majority, the Moon Realm can’t technically declare war on the Sun Realm, or form a military alliance with the star dwellers.” He pauses, waiting to see if I have any questions. I nod at him and he continues. “However, each individual subchapter can act unilaterally if they wish. But then the other Moon Realm subchapters might align themselves with the Sun Realm, in which case we’d have—”
“A civil war,” Ben finishes grimly. “Which is the last thing we want. Because then we’d be fighting our own people at the same time as the sun dwellers.” Ben’s voice is strong and determined. Evidently he’s been able to temporarily store his personal thoughts, too.
“But I just don’t see how we can get the support we need,” I say. “You heard the others. I don’t think any of the other VPs are anywhere close to supporting the rebellion.”
“What do you think, Vice President?” Ben says across the table.
Morgan’s been silent through the entire exchange, her hands clasped in front of her, looking calmer than a moon dweller subchapter after midnight. Unfolding her hands, she thumps the bottom of her palm on the table softly. “We have to get the star dweller leaders up here. Show the rest of the VPs that they’r
e friends, not foes. Share information. Having them gawk at the proceedings like a bunch of ghosts at the bottom of a screen is not helping.”
“The generals didn’t seem like they would budge on the three-day deadline,” Maia points out. “And they didn’t seem interested in meeting with us until we’ve reached an agreement.”
“What about your wife?” I say, immediately wondering if I should have brought it up. My eyes flick to Ben and I relax when I see the smile behind them. “I mean, can’t she do anything to help get the generals up here?”
“So you knew the whole time who she was?”
“I just guessed it, but I was fairly certain,” I say. “That’s why I was so shell-shocked at the beginning.”
Ben nods slowly. “She surprised us all. I had hoped she was alive and well, of course, but I never thought she would be part of the star dweller leadership already. But, knowing her, I suppose I should’ve guessed it.”
“Tristan has a point,” Morgan says. “Can she help us gain favor with the Star Realm?”
“I’m sure she is already doing everything she can. But, of course I will contact her. I’ve been itching to speak to her ever since I saw her on that screen.” I can’t help but smile when I see the look on Ben’s face, the longing, the desire to be reunited with his wife, and to find out about Adele.
Before anyone can respond, the door flies open and Ram is here. I’d almost forgotten he wasn’t in his usual spot in the corner. “Sir, there’s something you need to see,” he says to Ben, motioning to the screen, which is already descending from the ceiling.
We all turn to the video just as the screen changes from black to a live feed from the presidential steps in the Sun Realm, my father’s usual press conference location. He’s already addressing a crowd gathered before him. “…come to my attention that the Moon and Star Realms have been unable to reconcile their differences, despite the assistance that my son and I have offered. Clearly, the star dwellers have been the instigators, although it is my understanding that they have been able to garner some support within the Moon Realm. We all now face a very dangerous situation, one that could affect the lives of the citizens of the Tri-Realms for many years to come.” He pauses and scans the crowd.
“It is my belief that the violence and acts of rebellion are being carried out by a small number of individuals, and that the vast majority of our people continue to support the government and their leaders. Therefore, after much discussion and the weighing of many potential peaceful solutions, I have had to make a difficult decision, but one that I know is the right one. The sun dweller army will step in to neutralize the rogues and arrest or destroy their leaders, so that our citizens can go back to the safe and peaceful lives they’ve grown accustomed to.” The crowd is hanging on my father’s every word, hushed and leaning in, as if he’s some sort of a priest.
“We will protect the Moon Realm from those who seek to destroy it!” The crowd cheers as my father pumps a fist in the air. “Even now, we have stationed several platoons of sun dweller soldiers at key locations in the Moon Realm, and they await my orders to move in on the traitors.”
A flurry of questions erupts from the reporters, but my father waves his arms to silence them. “I only have one more thing to say and then I must return to my duties.” He pauses again, and this time looks right at the camera, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. I cringe as I feel his eyes on my own. A horrible, sinking feeling enters my heart. I’ve seen that look on his face before, usually preceding a threat or punishment.
“For those of you who are traitors out there, whether you be star dwellers, moon dwellers, or sun dwellers…be prepared to face the consequences of your actions, which will be brought down like a hammer on you and those you care about. That’s all for now.” Even before the crowd explodes, he’s off the steps and back inside the building. A shiver ripples through me. He was talking to me—I know it. …consequences of your actions…brought down like a hammer…those you care about…
Any anger I have for my father is lost in a cloud of fear at that moment. I don’t care what my father does to me, but those I care about? If he touches Roc, or Adele, or Ben, or Elsey—I don’t know if that’s something I could bounce back from. My heart is hammering and I don’t realize the telebox has been turned off until Ben says, “Tristan, why don’t you and I try to contact my wife.”
* * *
I feel like I’m on an emotional rollercoaster. The fiery pits of anger gave way to love and compassion for Roc, and then my father’s speech sent me into a swirling vortex of fear for my friends and my maybe possibly hopefully more-than-a-friend (someday?). And now I’m giddy with excitement. Because I’m about to see Adele again. She’s alive; as I always hoped, prayed, knew. It was confirmed via electronic message by Adele’s mother.
Roc seems just as excited as I am. Finally, I’ve found something to bring him out of his funk and it takes all my self-control not to give him a hard time about it. Because his excitement is about a girl, too. We’re acting like a couple of school boys. It took some convincing to get Ben to agree to Roc being part of the meeting, but once he did he was able to persuade his wife to invite Tawni. And of course Elsey is here, too, and her level of excitement dwarfs both of ours combined, and that’s saying something.
“Oh, Father, won’t it be simply delightful to see Mother again,” she says, beaming from ear to ear.
I expect Roc to mimic her, but apparently he’s so stoked that he can’t even bring himself to joke with his new best friend.
“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Ben says, his arm around his daughter. Although Ben has been a lot of things since I met him—stoic, fatherly, wise, kind, level-headed—this is the first time he’s seemed so light. It’s like he’s just floating around, not a care in the world, his head as light as a balloon, ready to lift him away to a better place, to where his family can be together. The contrast of his lightness against the heavy gray stone walls around us is strange.
“Do you think she’ll remember me?” Roc says, chewing on his nails.
“Duh, of course she’ll remember you, dork,” I retort. We’re all acting like a bunch of loons and I’m determined not to say anything crazy.
“Don’t listen to poor, unromantic Tristan,” Elsey says, putting an arm on Roc’s shoulder as she counsels him. “Yes, she will remember you and all of your charm.”
“Did you hear that, Tristy? I’ve got charm,” Roc says, punching me lightly on the arm. At least he’s joking again.
The screen goes white, and then black, and then white again, and for a moment I’m worried that technology will let us down and we won’t be able to have the video call. But then the picture emerges and my heart flutters when I see her.
Adele looks the same but different. If anything, she’s gotten more beautiful, her hair darker and fuller, her eyes greener and sharper, her face more heroic. She smiles lightly when she sees me—or so I think. I should say something, but my tongue is tied, so I just smile back at her. Now who’s the loon?
“My dear,” Ben says.
“Hello, Ben,” Adele’s mom says.
“Thank god you’re alive. That you’re all okay.”
“And you,” she says, smiling. “A fine mess we’re all in.”
I’m ignoring them and just staring at Adele. She’s looking back at me and suddenly it’s awkward and we both look away at the same time, laughing.
“Mother!” Elsey exclaims. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too, honey. How are you?”
“Oh, the orphanage was dreadful, but my dear Ranna was the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m okay now though. Adele saved me and Father is taking very good care of me.”
Adele’s mother looks at her with such love in her eyes—the way my mom always looked at me. “Yes, Adele has done much for our family.”
Elsey’s eyes light up. “Oh, and you have to meet Tristan and Roc—they helped save me and Father, too!”
“So I heard.” There’s a twinkle in her eye and Adele blushes. Sometimes she seems so strong, like an iron bar, unbreakable. And other times she’s vulnerable, like now. Both sides of her excite me. “Well, any friends of Adele’s are friends of mine. I’m Anna.”
My tongue is still flopping around helplessly in my closed mouth, so Roc beats me to the punch. “I’m Roc,” he says, winking. “You have two very cool daughters, Mrs. Rose.”
Anna laughs, high and musical. “Don’t I know it,” she says. “And please, just call me Anna.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Anna,” I say, my voice quivery. I just spoke confidently in front of every last one of the moon dweller VPs and now I can barely string a sentence together in front of Adele’s mom. I hope she doesn’t notice.
“Thank you both for what you’ve done for my family, for my girls,” she says. “We owe you a lot.” The conversation seems to just be bubbling along casually, like an underground brook, and I haven’t said anything of substance, anything that’s in my heart.
“Adele, I—” My mind is like an old chest, full of odds and ends and balls of string, and I scrabble through it, trying to find the right words—the perfect words. She’s waiting for me, her head cocked slightly to one side, her expression almost scared, like I might embarrass her in front of her parents. “I’ve missed you,” I finish.
There’s silence and I’m afraid I’ve upped the ante on awkwardness too far.
“And I’ve missed you, Tawni,” Roc says quickly. I gape at him and then smile. Good old Roc. Elsey giggles. Ben chuckles. Soon everyone’s laughing, except for Tawni—who’s ultra-pale features have turned crimson—and Roc, who’s suddenly found interest in a black mark on his left shoe.
The ice is broken—no thanks to me. Finally, Tawni says, “I’ve missed you all,” very diplomatically, but I can tell her eyes linger on Roc’s face slightly longer than the rest of us.
“We might be able to see you all in person soon though,” Adele says, her first words since the conversation started.