I swallow. Can only manage to nod.
“It’s intensifying your synesthesia, which is why you’re experiencing sensory confusion each time your brain triggers a rush of adrenalin. Smells cause sights? Sights cause sounds? Sounds cause physical sensations? Hallucinations?”
I nod again.
“It’s not fatal. Just very confusing. Avoid situations that cause your heart rate to rise and trigger adrenalin emissions and you’ll reduce its effects.”
“Oh, that’ll be easy. What about the degeneration of cells?”
“That’s unavoidable,” she says. “I watched seventeen children die of rapid cell degeneration. There’s no antidote for Zetemaphine.”
“Actually,” I say, standing up. “There is. Your boss worked it out. And I reckon if you want to remain unharmed you should start doing the same.”
*
Josephine
I’m back in my chair. It’s still sitting beside the same bed, but this time Shadow is the one sleeping in the infirmary. In my hands is a battered old copy of Jane Eyre. It agitates me to pain that the skyline over there is ever our limit.
I close my eyes, letting the book rest in my lap.
“What stirs that weary head of yours?”
I open my eyes to see Shadow watching me. “Dissatisfaction.”
“With what?”
“This world and how it is.”
“So rectify it.”
I sit forward and take his hand with the one of mine that isn’t in a cast. I feel the weathered lines of his, look at the dirty fingernails, the callouses on the edge of every finger. “Have you killed anyone?”
He searches my face. “Yes.”
“Does it haunt you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am haunted already, and there isn’t enough space for that many ghosts.”
“Who are you haunted by?”
“My wife and daughter.”
“How did they die?”
“Plague.”
My thumb moves over his thumb. “I used to change. I used to become a monster, and I used to kill people.”
He watches me, waiting.
“The only thing that kept me sane, I think, was the fact that I didn’t have a choice in it, and hardly any memories.” I meet his eyes. “Three days ago I murdered someone in cold blood. I decided to do it and I did it, and now I remember every detail of it.”
“Yes.”
I stare at Shadow. “That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say, kid? Do you want me to absolve you?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to punish you?”
I swallow.
“I won’t do either.” He squeezes my hand painfully tight. Then he says, “Sometimes we are sweet. Sometimes we are brutal. Some days we will be gentle. Other days we will be ugly.”
“But …” I swallow, my heart swollen and sluggish in my chest. “What’s it supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s not supposed to mean anything.”
“Is that grief talking?”
“I’ve believed that since the day I was born.”
I rest my forehead against the back of his hand. “I’m glad you didn’t die. Even though you’re a cranky old thing and you make me punch the bag without telling me how.”
He moves his hand to stroke through my hair.
“I’m getting a new trainer, by the way.” I look up to see the corner of his mouth curve. “Are you offended?”
He shakes his head, smiling more fully.
“It’s probably a mistake,” I afford.
“Gravity,” is all he says.
Kissing him quickly on the forehead, I walk for the door. “Parties to attend,” I sigh. “People to charm. The glamorous life.”
*
My next stop is to check in on Claire and Tobias in their new place. They were given the smallest one bedroom in the whole compound, which was a battle for Luke to achieve, given the resistors didn’t like it one bit that we’d brought cured people into their camp. He had a very good argument for their safety, though – one Quinn couldn’t ignore. In the cells with everyone else, there’s no telling what could happen.
Luke answers the door. “Hey, pal. Should I call you pal? How about buddy? Amigo? Comrade?”
I roll my eyes. “Your folks okay?”
He nods and gestures me in. I can feel how sheepish he is, but neither one of us brings up the fact that he was definitely making out with Raven the last time I saw him. I could throttle him for it, though I’d have no right to.
Luke’s parents are sitting on the small couch in the living room, and I sink onto the floor opposite.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Claire says.
“Hey. You guys alright?”
They both nod.
“Anyone giving you a hard time? ’Cause I’ll get these babies lined up and ready.” I kiss my knuckles, making Claire laugh. “But seriously, are they?”
“What do you think?” Luke slumps beside me and hands me a glass of wine.
“Who? What are they saying?”
Tobias grins. “I like you. Luke, didn’t I already say that I like her?”
“Yes, Dad, you did. About eight times.”
“Huh. I’m not usually likeable,” I point out with a smile.
“I’ve dealt with the idiots who have an issue, and Quinn’s on board,” Luke assures me.
“Is Raven on board?” I ask.
“Don’t know.”
I bet he does know, the bastard. I really wish the thought of them together didn’t make me feel so ill. Finding him with her lipstick on his mouth was like some kind of nightmare.
“Did Ranya get you set up in the infirmary?” I ask Claire. “I reckon she’s probably desperate for some proper help.”
“She did.” Claire nods. “She was a bit worried about my capabilities.”
“Emotional capabilities,” Tobias elaborates.
I look at Luke’s mother, at the well-kept hair and makeup, the ironed clothes and the eyes that still hold so much depth. “Well, all I know of you is that you laugh a lot, and I think we could all stand to laugh more.”
Claire watches me scrupulously, and then slowly smiles.
“That’s what I always say,” Tobias agrees.
Luke’s fingers shift over the wooden floor to touch my hand, but even though I know it’s just a moment of gratitude I’m compelled to move out of his reach. “I should go,” I say, getting to my feet. “See you both soon. If you need anything …”
“We know where to find you,” Tobias assures me.
Luke walks me to the door, and then keeps on walking me home. “Me and Raven …” he starts.
“Don’t,” I say quickly.
“There’s sort of an explanation, if you want it.”
“I don’t. We’re friends, remember?”
“I remember.”
People pass by and call out to Luke, or wave. He greets them all by name, and asks after them.
“How do you know them all so well?” I ask once we’re walking alone again.
He shrugs. “I talk to them. I ask them things.”
I feel abruptly sad. I spent so many years hating the fact that there was no one to talk to or connect with. Now I walk The Inferno as though I am still the only uncured person in the world, when in fact I am surrounded by them.
“I don’t know how to do that,” I say. “Why is it so hard for me and not for you?”
“I can think of a thousand reasons.”
I swallow. His eyes are beautiful. This sadness I feel. This ache. When will it end? I hate it, and think, for the millionth time, about the sadness cure. Would it work on me? Or would I be immune to it too?
Stopping in the middle of the dusty road, I say, “Raven isn’t right for you.”
He stares at me.
“You look like you’d be perfect for each other. But she’s ugly on the inside.”
Luke walks a few steps
closer, standing at least a foot taller than me. His outline is clear in the moonlight, the sharp, square features and broad shoulders. “Is this really what we’re doing?” he asks. “Talking about other people?”
“Maybe we should be seeing other people,” I reply. Inside my heart something screams no no no but I quell it.
“So that’s what we’re doing then?”
I clear my throat. “I think so. Yes.”
“As you wish,” he sighs, and I think, of course, of The Princess Bride, as any sane person would. You thought I was answering ‘as you wish’ but that’s only because you were hearing wrong. ‘I love you’ was what it was, but you never heard.
“To celebrate this horrid agreement, here’s a present.” Out of his back pocket Luke pulls an old tablet and flicks it on. Tapping open an application, he passes it unceremoniously to me. “For you, my bestest pal. A thousand books. Most of them banned, just ’cause I know how naughty you like to be.”
I stare at it and forget to breathe. My mind is full of questions like how and when did you get this – but then he says, “A thousand worlds for you to live in that aren’t this one.” Luke smiles a little crookedly, then walks down the dusty street.
I watch him go, wondering how he could be blind to the fact that I wouldn’t live in any world, no matter how wondrous, if it did not include him.
Chapter 14
February 12th, 2066
Luke
Before the Gathering I check on Shadow in the infirmary, armed with a bottle of whisky straight from the distillery. He’s looking pretty uncomfortable, the poor guy. I’m surprised he’s conscious, given he just got shot in the guts. He’s made of tough metal. I pass him the drink and he swigs gratefully.
“You doing alright?”
He nods. “Don’t you look pretty. Shouldn’t you be off dancing with your dead girlfriend?”
I wince. “Sorry about that. When I said that I did actually think she was dead.”
“How long have you known her?”
I’m surprised – Shadow doesn’t usually do personal questions of any kind. I sink into the chair by his bed. There’s no one else around because they’ve all gone to the Den already, so I sit here and I tell him everything, the whole sordid lot of it, like the big dumb idiot I am. Everything about Josi and me comes pouring out of my mouth and I’ve got no hope of stopping it – our relationship, our search for answers, the blood moon, my deceit and her eventual discovery of it.
“And now it’s done,” I finish breathlessly. It’s probably way more than he wanted to hear.
Shadow watches me, his dark eyes shrewd. I feel naked and uncomfortable. “Why?” he asks finally.
“’Cause she told me. She specifically said the thing between us is gone.”
He frowns, shakes his head like I’m a moron. “She’s healing, boy,” he says. “You gotta give it time. If she was detached, you’d be right to think it was over. But she’s in pain, which means she’s feeling the loss – just don’t make her do it alone. Connect with her over your shared loss ‘n she might eventually find her way back to connecting with you.”
I stare at him, astonished. “How do you keep doing that?”
He shrugs impatiently.
“You a shrink or something?” I joke.
“Psych professor. In another life.”
“You’re joking!” I laugh, unable to believe it. “I sure as hell didn’t see that one coming.”
He hides a smile. “Get, ratbag.”
“Yes, Professor.” I grin as I leave, pausing briefly at the door to say, “Thanks, man. Really.”
He ignores me, drinking his whisky instead.
*
Josephine
After Luke drops me at home I take a shower, holding my cast awkwardly out of the water. I think of all the time I’ll spend reading the books he gave me and am giddy with excitement. Who needs sleep when you have books?
There’s a knock on the door. “What?”
“You’re taking forever!” Pace shouts.
“What’s got you bent out of shape?” I climb out and wrap a towel around me. Pace pushes into the bathroom, shoves me out of it and then slams the door. Jeez. I head to my room to get dressed. All the clothes here are loose and comfy, much to my liking. They have that old-person cut, which is unflattering on everyone. Except Raven, who has found a way to look hot in everything she wears.
It comes to me again, the sight of her having kissed Luke, and that look in her eyes as she stood there behind him, knowing exactly how upset I’d be. Which essentially means that she knows there’s something between Luke and me. Which essentially means she’s dangerous. Luke and I spoke of seeing other people, and it hadn’t occurred to me before tonight, but now I think it might be the only way to convince Raven that there’s nothing between us.
Pace barges into my room wearing a clean shirt and slacks. That’s the only word I have for them. They’re not jeans or pants. They’re old-lady slacks.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
I look down at my night shirt and shorts. “To bed? Yes, if that’s okay with you.”
“It’s the Gathering!” she exclaims.
“What’s the Gathering?”
“God, you’re annoying. After the return of a mission there’s like a … dance. In the Den. Everyone goes to celebrate.”
“Oh. Sorry for not intuiting that out of thin air.”
“Just get dressed!”
“I really want to have an early night reading.”
“Don’t be daft,” she sighs, as though I have made the most ridiculous statement of all time.
“Fine. I’ll bring my reading then. As Lemony Snicket said, ‘Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them’.”
“La la la la,” Pace sings loudly to drown me out, her hands covering her ears like she does every time I quote a book.
“Why are you so freaked out?” I follow her into her bedroom and watch as she fidgets before the mirror. She has a bunch of eyeliners stolen from the city, and she uses one to coat her eyes. “I’m missing something,” I surmise.
She can’t look at me. And she’s being more weird than usual. I cross to sit on her bed.
“If you make a single sound or facial expression, I’m going to beat you black and blue,” she warns.
“The violence,” I sigh.
“Have you had sex?” It’s flung into the air so bluntly – like a weapon fired – that my mind goes blank.
“Oh,” I say. Pace angrily applies more eyeliner. “Yes,” I tell her. “Have you?”
She gives a stiff shake of her head.
I watch her. “Give the eyeliner a rest,” I say finally.
Her hand drops. She looks a bit defeated.
“I mean, hell, I don’t know,” I admit. “But you have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. So don’t put all that crap around them.”
Pace looks unsure. She’s very unused to going anywhere without a whole lot of eyeliner. Eyeliner like armor. But slowly she takes a tissue and starts to wipe her eyes clean. Then she reaches for the bolt through her nose.
“Don’t you dare take that out.”
She looks at me in the mirror, then smiles.
I head out to get dressed, saying, “If you want to have sex, have sex. If you don’t, don’t. There’s no other rule.”
“Not that simple, actually.”
I look back at her. “Why?”
“It’s illegal.”
“What is?”
“Having unsanctioned sex.”
I stare at her, my neck prickling with horror. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Couples have to apply for permission to have sex, because there’s a risk of getting pregnant. It’s how we control the birth rate here – we only have the means to support a particular population.”
“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard!” I exclaim.
Pace shrugs as though
it doesn’t bother her all that much, but I can’t believe it. It’s just like I imagined would eventually happen in the city – the next step will be forcing people to breed with genetically compatible partners or something.
“All we have out here is endless space,” I say. We should be growing our numbers.
“Not inside the walls,” Pace replies, and to me this place starts to feel like the prison it once was.
*
The Den is rowdy tonight. People are dressed in their clean clothes, and miraculously look as though they’ve washed. Musicians are playing in the corner – guitars and violins, which will do in a pinch, but sadly no cellos. The tables have been shoved back and the floor is crowded with dancers. Everyone looks like they’re having a great time, wild and free and full of all the good stuff.
I watch Pace cross to Hal, but because Will isn’t with them right now I don’t follow her. I can see exactly how she looks at him, and I smile.
I search for Claire and Tobias but guess they must have felt too intimidated to venture into this chaos. At the drinks table I take a whisky and it burns down my throat. When I’ve made my way back to the wall, I spot Luke entering. And damn. He looks good in his buttoned linen shirt. He always looks good. I think he does it just to make life hard for me.
That first night we met I thought he seemed unquiet, that there was something restless and wild beneath his surface. Well it’s not beneath the surface now. It’s the only thing you see when you look at Luke. He bristles, his eyes darting around the room. He looks angry. But when his gaze lands on me I see a smile curl his lips and I know the anger’s morphed into something else entirely.
Raven makes a beeline for him and says something that makes him frown. He deliberates a second, then follows her to the drinks table. They look gorgeous together. Of course.
A fight breaks out in the corner and a bunch of people start yelling and hurting each other, but it’s so normal here that no one else pays it much attention. At the drinks table Raven gives Luke a lingering kiss on the cheek and then moves to dance with Quinn, who is busting a move or two on the dance floor. He’s actually a really good dancer, which is quite charming. Raven’s smile when she looks at him is different. I think it’s less guarded, somehow. And I think that, even if she doesn’t know it, Quinn is good for her.
Melancholy: Book Two of The Cure (Omnibus Edition) Page 21