“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that,” he says, pointing behind me.
I turn around quickly and look at where Stephen had been standing, and in his place is my sister. Waverly.
Hot tea or coffee were the options. Someone in Jeremiah’s camp was able to scrounge up some cookies for us as well. Gabe sits at the end of the table while Waverly sits across from me. Little Evie naps silently in the corner with her blanket and a couple of pillows. I look at my sister with more sadness that I am ready for. It looks like she has been crying for a while. And when she tells me about her interaction with Ethan, I start to understand why.
“I knew the two of you were friends, but I didn’t know you cared about him so much,” I say.
“We were becoming very close,” Waverly answers. “When Mitch told me to shoot him, I felt panic, but I couldn’t control it. You know Mitch drank the Starborn blood right? He has the ability to enter someone’s mind and make them do whatever he wants.”
“Jeremiah brought us up to speed last night,” Gabe answers. “I can’t believe it. What a jerk.”
“Tell me about it,” Waverly says. “When Samuel killed Mitch’s girlfriend, Ashley, Mitch went off the rails. He thought it was my fault that Ashley got into the situation in the first place. In a way, it was, but it was her decision to bring me to Samuel, regardless of whether I shot her or not.”
Waverly shooting Ashley is news to me, but I don’t really ask about it. In fact, I just let her talk. I already know about the visions because of the notebook she left behind. But the way Waverly tells it now, the notebook was a poor reflection on how all the visions connected. For instance: knowing Ethan was going to be shot by a sniper was one thing. Finding out that Waverly was the shooter because of Mitch’s power over her was an entirely new twist. I decide not to tell her about the notebook, so long as she doesn’t ask. I can’t think of why she ever would.
“I wonder where Mitch is now,” Gabe says, staring at the table.
“Probably plotting to kill Shadowface,” Waverly says.
“Like father, like son,” I mumble.
A moment passes where all of us sit in front of steaming mugs of coffee or tea. It’s a nice moment. The silence isn’t awkward. Really, it’s just good to be sitting among friends, though the future is in the forefront of our minds. My mind, at least.
“Where have you two been for the past month?” Waverly says, breaking the silence.
I tell her about our failed attempt to recruit Paxton to help us fight Shadowface. She gasps when I tell her that I was shot, and I even lift my shirt to show her the fresh scar tissue. She learns of Orick, and Gabe even quips about Nancy’s cooking. We conclude that it was a pretty nice month, but a strange one to say the least. When I ask Waverly about how she spent her time, the conversation takes a dark turn.
Imprisonment. The torture of a girl named Amber. Her meeting with Olivia. Her escape. Each word that comes out of her mouth has me on the edge of my seat, and by the time she finishes, I feel guilty for having had such an easy month.
There is another long moment of silence and this time it is a little awkward. I look away at Evie who is sleeping comfortably with a thumb in her mouth. When I turn back to Waverly, she is smiling at me.
“Taking a liking to Evie?” she asks.
“I was kind of forced to,” I say. “Stephen dropped her on me a few minutes ago. I think he was tired of taking care of her.” I want to call her out on the vision that she lied to me about. I want to tell her that the whole thing about me walking through a field and finding a nice shiny rock was bull crap, but I decide to keep it to myself. She had her own reasons for writing down the visions in a notebook. She doesn’t need to know that I looked through it. Not that I think she would actually care.
I keep wondering when we will run into the girl named Jenna. What will she be like? Why would I trust her enough to give Evie to her? Right now, I wouldn’t think much about it. Evie is just another person. It’s not like she’s special. I mean, she’s special in that you’re a kid, so you’re special kind of way, but nothing more, I think.
“I guess,” Gabe says, “the question is, where do you go from here?” Waverly and I look at him, both of us unable to answer the question. Gabe continues. “Jeremiah has his operation going on, but I don’t know if I want to be a part of it anymore. We’re so far removed from it all. I’ve spent a month away from him and his vendetta against Shadowface, and I for one am happy for it to stay that way.” He motions to Waverly. “You, on the other hand, have been under Shadowface’s watchful eye for the past month, and might have a different take than either of us. What is it you want to do, Waverly? Do we stay here and try to finish the fight against Shadowface, or do we leave and let Jeremiah fight his own battle?”
She doesn’t answer for a long while. I guess I understand. Facing the question, I’m not a hundred percent sure what my answer is either. From the moment I saw Olivia when I was hiding in the closet three years ago, I knew she was a person to be stopped. From the moment I discovered there was such a person that called herself Shadowface when I stole the journal from Paxton, I knew she was a person to be stopped. But why is it up to us? What difference does it make whether or not we stay to help? The fight will be waged with or without us.
“I can’t answer that,” Waverly finally says. “Not right now, anyway.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I suppose you can look into our futures and figure out what we’re going to decide to do, right?”
It was meant as a joke, but Waverly shakes her head with a serious, grim stare. “I never want to look into the future again unless a life depends on it. I’ve misinterpreted the visions so badly in the past…I don’t even know what I’m looking at sometimes.”
“You hate your Starborn power, don’t you?” I ask.
“More than you know,” she says. “So far it has been more of a burden than anything. I’m not going to say it hasn’t served some purpose, but I hate it. I wish it would have never come to me.”
I can’t say I know how she feels. My ability has been nothing but useful to me. But I can imagine that seeing into the future is a difficult load to carry. I guess it’s not the future itself that is so difficult to deal with rather than knowing what to do with the future she has seen.
We finish our coffee or tea mostly in silence. I catch myself looking over at Evie every now and then to make sure she is still sleeping soundly. The feelings I have for her are strange. Guilt seems to play a part, but I don’t really know why. I didn’t kill her caretaker, Lydia, yet I can’t help but think that if I had never shown up, then Evie might not be alone. If I hadn’t been there, would Stephen have gone to meet with Samuel that morning when they overheard that Waverly was at Elkhorn? Would Lydia have been where she was when she was killed? I guess the guilt comes more from trying to give up Evie to Paxton.
What a jerk, I think to myself. Part of me believed in him, but I can’t fathom why. I really thought that with the chance to see his granddaughter he would have turned. I never thought he wanted me to be kicked out. I never got the impression that he had it out for me. In fact, when he told me about his daughter before he banished me from Crestwood, it almost seemed like he was trying to give me another chance to come back and be a part of them again. But the more I look back on it, I can’t help but think that it was a task he never thought would bear any results. When I came back to tell him about his daughter and granddaughter, I’m sure he was panicked and didn’t know what to do. So, in his usual fashion, he did whatever Shadowface told him to do. He tried to kill me. And what’s even more disturbing is that he didn’t mind trying to kill Gabe too. Gabe had been his most trusted scout. But I guess whenever Shadowface spoke, Paxton listened.
Evie’s chest falls up and down with every innocent breath. Her mother died under horrible circumstances. Her father is a nobody that probably would have preferred not to meet her. Her grandfather was a lying, murderous man that did whatever evil was
ordered of him—all in the name of protecting and preserving his beloved Crestwood. The only good person she really had in her life was Lydia, and now she’s dead. And for the past month, she’s been taken care of by Stephen who looks like the demons he’s been battling in his own mind have nearly taken him over. If Evie is to turn out normal in the least bit, she will need someone to take care of her and make sure she is loved.
When I look back at Waverly and Gabe, I see the two of them staring at me. They aren’t smiling, nor do they seem sad, just observant. They know as well as I that I’m going to take care of her.
Just until we find this Jenna character, I think. I’ll watch her for that long.
“You won’t have to do it alone,” Waverly says, almost as if she read my thoughts.
Gabe agrees.
I want to tell her that it isn’t really fair because I might not feel the responsibility to take care of her if I had never read about the vision in the first place. But I hold my tongue. If Waverly wanted me to know about the vision she would have told me. I’m just going to do the best I can. In fact, I’m going to make it a point to pretend like I never knew about Waverly’s vision. I won’t let it influence the way I act or treat Evie. The reason I’m here to take care of her is because Stephen is too lazy or distracted to do it himself.
The three of us talk for the next few minutes. We start weighing the pros and cons for leaving versus staying. I try to ask Waverly more about Ethan and what he might like to do, but she clams up pretty quick.
At some point, I feel a short tug on my sleeve, and when I look behind me, little Evie is standing with her blanket in her arms. “I’m hungry,” she says. Her voice sounds so sweet and innocent.
“Why don’t you come with me?” Waverly says, standing from the table. She probably wants to get away from any conversation that involves Ethan right now. “I can help you find something.”
Evie shakes her head and stands closer to me. “You take me,” she says. I look from Evie to Waverly who smiles at me briefly.
She shrugs. “She knows who she likes.”
“Why me?” I ask, but Evie just takes another step closer and wraps her arms around my waist. Gabe is all smiles too. “Okay,” I tell her. “Let’s find something to eat.”
Chapter 11 - Waverly
Two days have come and gone since I slipped past Shadowface’s tight grip. It feels strange being in Elkhorn among people I’ve never met, and the ones that I do know feel like strangers. Remi and Gabe have been nice enough, though the two of them seem so preoccupied, and perhaps even so unsure of themselves that talking with them does little in deciding what we plan to do next. Then there’s Ethan. He’s a total stranger. I’ve tried to talk to him a couple of times over the past few days, but all I get in return are short answers or a cordial nod. He doesn’t seem like the same Ethan that I knew a month ago—the one I had kissed on the rooftop. I can’t help but think that he is angry because of the shooting, but he knows that it wasn’t my fault. He knows that there was nothing I could have done. So, why can’t he move past it?
The more I think about it, the more I believe it has less to do with me shooting him than it does with the month he has had since. He told me that some man had loaded him up in the back of his truck and took him to his cabin—that the man took care of him—then the man died a week ago.
I’m not sure I believe it. All of us have had our hardships, but maybe something happened to Ethan that pushed him over the edge—something he doesn’t want to share with me. But what could it have been?
It is the beginning of my third day here and I’m walking into the ‘operation center’ as I’ve learned people call it. It’s no different than any of the other rooms in any of the other buildings in Elkhorn. It’s a big office on the first floor where cubicle dividers have been pushed up against the walls to make room for all the men and women here. When I walk through the doors, not a single head looks up at me. It’s as if the office is being used in the way it was always meant to. There are at least fifty people moving quickly from person-to-person, each of them with his or her own purpose. In the center of the room there is a large desk where Jeremiah sits. On the walls are monitors and television screens apparently hooked up to security cameras that are placed around the perimeter of the hideout. There seems to be far more going on here than when Stephen was in charge. Though, it isn’t even the same place. Basically whatever Stephen had is gone and obsolete.
I walk through the crowd of people, some of them pouring over maps together, others looking through inventory sheets, a few are figuring numbers with pads and pencils. I almost feel overwhelmed by the business, so when I hear someone call my name, I jump. I look to my left and see Jeremiah motioning for me to come join him at his desk. Looking from side-to-side, I slowly make my way toward him.
When I walk up to the desk, there is a strong smell of cigar smoke. His eyes droop as they normally do, and I truly don’t feel like I should be here. Jeremiah motions to the chair across from his desk. “Please, Waverly, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
The metal chair is hard and cold, and it is placed so Jeremiah sits about a foot taller than me. “What’s up?” I ask.
“Just wanted to see how you were holding up,” he says with a smile.
I shrug my shoulders. “I feel out of place here.” My eyes travel around the room. “I don’t even understand what is happening. There is a sense of urgency that I don’t quite grasp.”
“You don’t grasp it because you aren’t helping us,” he says, still smiling. “But that is completely understandable. You are recuperating. Or, at least, I hope you are.”
It feels weird to think that I’m recuperating. I have been through much worse trauma than what I have experienced over the past month. “When I came here, I didn’t expect there to be anyone left. I figured Remi might have been looking for me here, but I thought it was a long shot.”
Jeremiah shakes his head. “Ever since Shadowface’s attack, we’ve been in revenge mode.”
“But where have all these people come from? When you were here the first time, there were only three of you.”
Jeremiah lets out a sharp chuckle as he looks around the room. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it? I’ve been gathering allies for the past three years. It has been my mission to turn people against Shadowface because of everything she represents—because she only wants power. It’s because of my planning and research that we learned Shadowface is in the town of Anchorage, and roughly how many men she has. It will be a great day when we take over.”
“And what will happen when you’ve accomplished that goal?” I ask.
“I will help people rebuild their world,” he says. “I can give people a chance to make their lives normal again.”
“Normal?”
“Well,” Jeremiah says, “as normal as it can be. I’m going to supply villages with weapons, and food, and the ability to sustain themselves.”
“But isn’t that what Shadowface is doing?” I say.
“Well, yes,” Jeremiah says. “But I know her. Olivia is seeking power by making people love her.”
“But no one knows who she is,” I say. “Except…”
Jeremiah’s eyes narrow. “Except what?”
“She plans to tell the world,” I say.
“I know this plan of hers,” he says, sighing and turning to look at one of the monitors on the wall. “And I know it will be soon. I have a few people who work closely with some of the settlement leaders. They are supposed to inform me when they learn of it, but that is unreliable at best.”
“Four days,” I say.
Jeremiah turns his head at me sharply. “Excuse me?”
“Olivia had me see into her future,” I say.
Jeremiah looks all around us for a moment, and then stands. “Walk with me. Let’s talk outside.”
I don’t know if he wants to talk outside because it’s more private or so we can talk with less distraction, but in either case I feel more relaxed aw
ay from the crowd of people. We walk outside the building where the air is cold, and the wind bites at my ears and nose, but I prefer it. I tuck my jacket around me tightly.
“Why haven’t you said anything about this before?” Jeremiah asks. He seems almost angry, but he keeps a civil tone.
“Everyone around here seems so busy,” I say. “The way you and your people have been acting, I thought you already knew.”
“We don’t know. Not yet. You say four days?”
“Sometime in the evening,” I say. “That’s when she plans to reveal her identity.” I shake my head at him. “I don’t really understand why this is so significant. Doesn’t that just make her an easier target?”
“It’s complicated,” Jeremiah says. “But it is important for us to take her out before she shows herself.”
“Yeah, but I want to know your motivation. I want to hear it from you.”
Jeremiah sighs, clearly not wanting to explain anything to me, but he composes himself quickly. “The moment she reveals herself to the settlements, she will put a face to the person that has provided for them. Right now, the leaders won’t put up much of a fuss about losing someone they have never seen.”
“Except they won’t enjoy the benefits she’s provided,” I say.
“Maybe,” he says, “but the moment she shows her identity, the moment she starts meeting with leaders and putting on her charm, she will be likable. People will want to follow her. Then, she will want to move forward.”
“What do you mean?”
“Domination,” he says. “She will start taking over the settlements that have refused her help. If they are not willing, she will take them by force. She wants to be a dictator, Waverly.”
“So, why Shadowface? Why did she keep her identity a secret?”
“In the beginning, it worked. Now, her network is getting too big. People are starting to ask too many questions. So, naturally, she will give them what they want. This has been her plan from the beginning.”
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