Through the Ashes (The Light Book 2)

by Jacqueline Brown

  “I loved you, Bria. I wanted you to love me too,” he said as I tried to break his hold on me.

  Tears came with the fleeting thoughts of my dad and the promise I’d made him. Of JP running with all his might to catch the truck when we pulled away. Of Quinn picking flowers and handing them to Nonie, to place on the small table Eli used when he said Mass. I loved them. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to fight. I wanted to live.

  I pulled my knife from its sheath. I gagged and coughed, but no air came. Trent’s hands squeezed tighter. I tried to lift the knife. It was too late. My mind faded … my body slumped.

  I coughed and fell to my knees. Trent’s hands were gone from my neck. Warm liquid covered my hand. I forced my eyes open.

  The girl pulled me up. Trent lay on the ground, my knife stuck in the back of his neck. I looked at my right hand. It was covered in blood.

  “Did I kill him?” I said, my voice unrecognizable.

  The girl only stared. A few drops of blood dotted her frozen face.

  Had she helped me? Did she save my life again?

  My friends appeared. I fell to my knees. My body convulsed. I felt hands on my face, turning my head sideways. My body seized out of control.

  Thirty-Three

  “I can see his handprints on her neck.” Sara’s voice was full of outrage.

  I opened my eyes.

  “Her eyes are open,” Sara whispered.

  Jonah appeared and Sara made room for him.

  “What happened?” I croaked.

  “You had a seizure,” Jonah said, his fingers caressing my hair. His right arm rested in a sling made from what looked like an old pillowcase.

  “A seizure?” I whispered.

  “It can happen with head traumas or choking, and since you have both, well, I guess your odds were pretty high,” Haz said from above Jonah.

  “Will it happen again?” I mouthed, realizing it hurt when I spoke.

  “Let’s hope not,” Haz said.

  I realized then that I was lying on my side, on a couch in a stranger’s house … my head throbbing, my vision still blurry.

  “Where are we?” I tried to say, but no words came out.

  Blaise and Jonah were staring at me, reading the words on my lips.

  “We went as far as we could. Haz and Josh took turns carrying you. We made it a few miles, until Haz and East thought we were safe, at least for now,” Blaise answered, petting my head.

  “Is Trent …?” My energy waned at the thought of his name.

  “Dead? Yes,” Jonah answered.

  My mind faded and drifted away to a place where there was life. A place where it was spring and I was outside. My bare feet against the warm earth. The grass tickling my toes with each light step. Talin was there. I wrapped my arms around her, swinging onto her back. She carried me, her muscles contracting beneath me. We rode for hours, neither of us growing tired, until at last we saw Fulton and Jonah in the distance. They came to us. The sun warmed my shoulders. Jonah laughed as we raced through the orchard. I stopped. Grabbing a red apple, I took a bite. Its sweet juice burning as it trickled down my throat.

  ***

  The room was dark. My body was tired, but my mind was alert. My head no longer hurt and my eyes saw clearly. I said “thank you” deep inside myself for the return of my sight and the break from the pain. My stomach growled. I longed for an apple. When was the last time I’d eaten? Too long. I hoped someone would hunt soon. I pulled my legs toward me, moving my feet gently from Jonah’s lap. He slept, a pillow between his head and the wall and another one beneath his broken arm. Sara, Josh, and Blaise slept on the floor between the couch and the recliner, where East slept. I knew then that we were safe, but not safe enough to sleep in separate rooms. The girl who’d been a slave sat in the corner, her eyes closed, and a blanket pulled around her body. She had saved my life twice now, and I didn’t even know her name.

  I stood, careful to avoid disturbing my friends. I scanned the darkness. Haz sat beside a window, his body and feet propped up on wooden kitchen chairs.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked as I stood beside him.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  “That sounds about right,” he said. He sat up, offering me the chair his feet had just occupied.

  “Does it?” I asked, unsure of anything.

  “Yeah, you went through a lot,” he said, looking at me.

  I put my hand to my throat.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Did I kill Trent?” I mouthed.

  He looked at me. “I don’t know. I think it was you and her,”—he gestured toward the girl—“together. We asked her, but you know she didn’t answer.”

  The girl whimpered in her sleep. I turned to watch her.

  “No, don’t!” she cried out. Her voice was young and full of fear and pain.

  I wondered what horrors had filled her life that now haunted her dreams.

  “So she can talk,” Haz whispered.

  I nodded. I knew she could. I could see it in her eyes, but something stopped her. She always looked so scared, so confused, like the whole world fell on top of her and she was too terrified to speak.

  “Maybe someday she’ll tell us her name,” I croaked.

  “Yeah, maybe,” he said.

  We sat in silence. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from replaying the events of the day.

  “Things will be better now,” he said, as if reading my mind. “We don’t have anyone chasing us, there’s no wall around us. We can go slow. We can let … let people heal.”

  “You were going to say me,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, I was, but Jonah needs to rest up too. His leg is bad, and now his arm. The rest of us could benefit from a rest, and I’m looking forward to learning how to hunt. I’ve been eating scraps and MREs for way too long,” Haz said.

  His kind strength reminded me of East. He wanted to help us, like she did. He was willing to risk his life to help others, like she was doing.

  “Will you come with us?” I asked, afraid he would say no. It’d been only two days since we met, but I already felt as though he was part of my world. Perhaps it was all we’d been through together, perhaps it was finding someone good in a city where goodness was rare.

  He glanced behind me. I turned and followed his gaze. East slept peacefully in the recliner.

  “Yes, I want to help you find Sara’s family. After that, I’m not sure,” Haz said.

  “I’m glad,” I whispered.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I turned and faced my friends as the first glow of the sun came through the window. I sat, watching the rise and fall of Jonah’s chest—the most beautiful sight in the world to me.

  “Can I ask you something?” Haz said.

  I turned. He was watching me watch Jonah. “I think you’ve earned that,” I mouthed, a faint smile on my lips.

  “How well do you know Jonah?” he asked, his eyebrows low and eyes focused.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, do you know much about him? About his past. Before the EMPs.” He folded his arms and leaned his body against the back of the chair.

  “I know he was in seminary, studying to be a priest,” I whispered as confusion washed through me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Ye-yes. East and the rest of his family told me. Why?” I asked, my anxiety rising.

  “You know I was a cop, right?”

  I nodded.

  “You know Jonah’s tattoos?”

  I nodded. “What does that have to do with you being a cop?” I mouthed.

  “Is there anything weird to you about them?” he asked, ignoring my question.

  “I don’t know. No, they’re just religious tattoos.”

  “Nothing else you noticed?”

  I shook my head.

  “So sometimes, as a cop, you look at a tattoo and you see there is more to it than just the design. You can see its hidd
en meaning or not hidden meaning, exactly, but sort of the story it tells.” His voice was different, professional though still tender.

  “Okay,” I said, not understanding where he was going with this.

  The tattoos weren’t mysterious. One was a rosary. Jonah likes the rosary. The second was a Bible verse about light and darkness. I came to realize it was a spiritual metaphor for good and evil, God and Satan, but there was no mystery. No explanation needed.

  “Part of the story they tell is where they were done,” he said.

  I sat, staring at him.

  “Jonah’s tattoos weren’t done in a tattoo shop,” Haz said, as if he was telling me something important.

  “Okay?” I said, my eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

  “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” Haz stared at me.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  “His tattoos, the color of the ink, their choppiness. I’ve seen it hundreds of times before. They come from a very specific place.”

  “Please, just tell me whatever it is you are trying to tell me,” I whispered in tired frustration.

  Haz exhaled and looked at me. “Bria, his tattoos …” He paused, looking at me with pity. “They’re prison tattoos.”

  End of Book Two

  For updates on The Light series and more information about the author, please visit http://www.Jacqueline-Brown.com

  View the trailer for The Light:

  https://youtu.be/UGb4enwTzwM

  View the trailer for Through the Ashes:

  https://youtu.be/T6BMccpEM6E

  Other books by Jacqueline Brown

  The Light: Who do you become when the world falls away?