I don’t know how to get back to you.
My stomach drops, like riding an elevator. And I fall away to the beating of a hammer and a goodbye stuck on my lips.
34
I used to fear death. I believed that it was the worst the Council could do to me. But I’m finding that I was wrong. Death is easy. I feel it now. It’s a simple thing: slipping away. It’s like sleep; never having to wake to the wickedness again.
No, death is not the worst thing. But maybe loneliness is. Living while others die—that is where the real pain waits. And that has been my life. Isn’t it my turn to rest?
I can hear his voice. He’s trying to draw me out.
Come back, Hannah. Don’t leave.
It’s always a whisper; never louder than a breath. But the words echo in my brain—begging.
He doesn’t understand. Even if I wanted to, I don’t know how to get back.
Even if I wanted to.
Even if…
35
I hear my heartbeat first. I can feel each drum deep in my chest, like a knocking, telling me I’m not dead; to wake up; to open my eyes. But I don’t want to yet. I lie still, moisture pooling beneath my eyelids. I try to clear my mind of all the things that have happened, but there are too many. Each event has compounded into one giant, aching weight sitting heavy on my chest.
I hear a creaking noise somewhere to my left. High pitch. Low pitch. High. Low. It repeats in this pattern without breaking rhythm. The air smells spicy and sweet, like the dry apples we were given at lunch each day, only much more pleasant. My stomach groans. I’m starving. I should open my eyes. I shift my arm a little and find that I’m no longer on the table in the white room. In fact, this doesn’t feel like a table at all. What’s under me is soft, and it gives beneath my weight.
A warm breeze glides over my skin, and I inhale. Another smell hits me. Something earthy. Slowly, I open my eyes. The light in this room is golden and warm, but I can’t see where it’s coming from. It touches everything, even turning my pale skin a glittering tan. The ceiling is plain white, but smooth and not stained from water or cracked from years of wear.
I turn my head, and a small gasp leaves me. A window. Beautiful and framed in dark wood. The lower pane is pushed up, letting in a breeze that blows through sheer yellow curtains. They billow, then fall. Again. Again. It’s like a dance, and I can’t look away. Sunlight shines warm through the screen.
“Hannah?”
I freeze. The creaking stops, and slow footsteps slide toward me. I know that voice. It is soft and gentle and cracked from age. I turn my head to see.
She is thinner than I remember, if that is possible. Her shoulders hunch a little lower. But her smile is the same. Her eyes are just as sweet. Relief chokes me.
Norma.
I try to sit up, but my body is too weak and I can’t. A sharp pain stabs deep in my thigh. Norma settles on the edge of the bed and touches a fragile hand to my cheek.
“Norma,” I croak. I turn my face into her hand. This whole scene is wrong. Too wonderful. Norma leans over and touches a kiss to my head.
“Dear girl,” she murmurs, stroking my hair. “You’re safe now.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “I thought you were dead.”
“Not yet,” Norma says. Her expression falls.
“Albert.” I can see it in her eyes. The conflict—between gratitude and loss. She nods.
“He didn’t make it out of the valley. He was too…much too weak.” She swallows hard, but a gentle smile returns to her lips.
“But how did you get out? And when? When Edan came to get me, you were already gone. But that was only hours after I saw you…” The questions come spilling out of me, like they’ve been crammed in an overfilled closet. Norma touches my arm, and I stop.
“There are many things that you don’t know about me. Many things that I look forward to finally sharing. But for now, you need to rest.”
The urge to push her for answers is still there, like it was when the only thing separating our homes was a single wall. I feel a twinge, like I’ve lost something that made up part of who I am.
“My friend is dead,” I say after a long silence. I don’t know why I said it. Or maybe I do. Maybe I needed to say it out loud again, to make someone else feel it with me because the sorrow is so loud right now. I don’t look up to see her reaction.
“Tell me,” she murmurs, stroking my hand with her fingertips.
“They blew up our food storage,” I choke. I clear my throat. “We were ambushed. A man…a Watcher. His family was dead and…he was angry.” I close my eyes. Shake my head. “He wanted the other man with us. I didn’t know it then, but Cash is…his father is…” Say it, I tell myself. But the words feel strangely like a secret, and I can’t get myself to say them out loud.
Cash belongs to the Council by blood.
“The man shot at Cash, but Edan took the bullet,” I breathe.
Norma is silent, and I turn to her. She watches me, eyes sad. Several times she looks like she’ll say something, only to close her mouth again, changing her mind. Finally, she kisses my head. “I am so sorry, Hannah. For all the pain you’ve suffered. It isn’t fair.”
We sit for a long time, hand in hand, the way we did in her unit not that long ago. I’ll wake up in the morning, and I will find that all of this was a dream. But for now, I stay in it.
“I’m so hungry,” I say when my stomach growls. It is so empty, I feel sick.
Norma stands. In this lighting, she looks healthier. Her skin is creamy, rather than gray. “I believe my young cousin has made a soup for you, in case you were to wake today.”
“In case…how long have I been asleep?” I feel uneasy.
“You arrived unconscious three days ago, dear. You were white as a ghost. I thought for sure—” Her voice hitches. Instead of finishing her thought, she moves toward the door. Stopping, she looks back to me. Her hand sits on the frame. Her eyes are moist. “I have missed you, Hannah. I am so glad to see you.”
One more smile, and she’s gone.
When the door creaks, I sit up fast. Norma brought me a steaming bowl of soup, with chicken and carrots and green vegetables. The empty bowl sits on a table near the bed, and my stomach is warm and calm. I wait, eyes glued to the door.
Lockwood steps in, and I sigh, leaning back. He wears a black short-sleeved shirt and green pants with pockets sewn onto the sides. Dog tags hang from his neck, and I’m reminded of Edan.
“Sorry,” he says, grinning. “Not who you were expecting?”
“No,” I say. I shake my head. “I mean, no…it’s okay.”
Lockwood walks over and crouches beside the bed. I’m overwhelmed for a moment with gratitude. If he hadn’t been there, I would be dead.
“Feeling better?” he says.
“I’m alive,” I say, returning his smile with a small one. “Thank you. For saving me.”
“I told you I would do whatever I could,” he replies. His gaze moves over the burns on my skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”
“You got to me. That’s what matters.”
He nods. For a second his gaze is stuck on the empty soup bowl, and I’m distracted again by the dog tags. Edan wore his constantly. I realize now that wearing them must have had less to do with the Council, and more to do with the men he called comrades. I remember the night the glass shattered, when Edan spoke so highly of the men guarding the southern edge. He believed more would join. I think that’s why he wore them. When Lockwood looks back to me, his expression is heavy.
“You’re a target now, Hannah. The Council knows your connection with Gray is strong. They’ll use you, if they can, to get to him. But we’re organizing a plan. We won’t let them near you.”
I sit up fast. I’ve just remembered. “There are spies,” I say. “Sterling said…”
Lockwood nods. He doesn’t look surprised. “We’ll find them. Don’t worry. That’s to be expected.”
“But how will you know?”
“Not sure.” He shrugs. “But sooner or later they’ll show themselves. Until then, we stay vigilant.”
Lockwood stands, his knees cracking with the movement. He sits on the edge of the bed and leans into his elbows. We’re quiet for a minute. I lean back and find I’m okay with it. It’s strange the things we hate in one season of our life, then cherish in another. I hated the silence of my living unit. But now, after so much has happened, the quiet is soothing. Healing. After a time, I smile and say,
“So is there something else I can call you? I mean, you saved my life. Shouldn’t I know your first name?”
Lockwood grins sideways at me. A flash of white in this dim lighting. “Adrian,” he says. “Ian’s fine.”
“Ian,” I repeat, nodding. “Nice to meet you, Ian.”
“And you, Hannah.”
I look off and laugh a little. It’s still strange to be talking with these men on equal ground. If I’d run into Ian on the streets of the valley, I would have been terrified of him. But now, in this easy setting, with the night breeze billowing the curtain and soft blankets cushioning my legs, I find it’s only natural that we be friends. Why wouldn’t we?
“Can I ask you something,” Ian says. I nod.
“Did you see his face? Titus?”
I pull in my eyebrows. “Have you not seen his face?” I assumed the masks were just a formality—a method to scare me.
Ian shakes his head. “No one sees them.” He studies me. “But you did. Didn’t you?”
“He was going to kill me,” I say. “I was supposed to be dead already. He must have thought it wouldn’t matter.”
Ian’s eyes widen. “What did he look like?” he whispers.
I look off. I could say the truth—that Titus looks just like Cash. Instead I say nothing. After a few seconds, Ian’s expression falls.
“He isn’t gonna like that you’ve escaped. Not now that you’ve seen his face.”
He looks to me and sees the worry I’m wearing. He touches my hand.
“We’ll keep you safe,” he says, and he’s so sincere, I almost believe he can promise me that.
“What is it?”
I sit on the edge of the bed, and Norma is sitting in front of me, smoothing something creamy on my face. The window is open again, and the breeze is chilly. But the sunlight this morning looks warm, and I’m finding it hard not to jump up and run to it.
“Lemon juice,” she murmurs. “And oil from a coconut.”
“What’s a coconut?”
She smiles. “So much to discover, isn’t there?”
I return her smile. There’s a steady thrill in my chest this morning. I woke up remembering that I am outside the valley. As soon as I’m ready, Norma is taking me outside. I stare at the window as Norma moves to spreading the ointment on my arm. My eyes catch on men wandering the grounds, and my expression falls. Cash hasn’t come to see me. My eyes lose focus, and my thoughts wander to the last time we spoke. The time when I wasn’t dying. I remember that I was mad. I accused him of hiding something. And now I understand why. I close my eyes, and he’s pulling me onto his lap again, holding me together while my body tries to shatter from the grief of losing Edan. In that moment, I believed Norma was dead.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Norma says. I look to her and she’s watching me, concern wrinkling her forehead. I don’t say anything at first. What is there to say? Talking about Cash’s father feels like a betrayal. Wondering why he hasn’t come to see me seems trivial. So I shake my head. Look away.
Norma sighs. I love her sigh. It is the sound most familiar to me, and I can’t believe I have it back. She slides the rocking chair to the corner of the room and sits beside me on the edge of the bed. Taking my hand in hers, she says, “Think what it must be like for him.”
I jerk my face toward her. She gives me a knowing look.
“I’m not so old that I can’t read you, Hannah. And remember, I was awake when you arrived. You weren’t. Cash was very upset.”
For a moment, I study her. She talks about Cash like they are familiar with one another. But I don’t ask about it, because now I’m drawn back to those brief moments of consciousness, when Ian helped me escape.
“I know,” I whisper, looking at my hands. I remember small details, Ian handing me to Cash. Cash stroking my face. And I remember his tears, the desperate sound in his voice. I look up.
“What do you mean?” I say. “What is it like for him?”
“He watched you die,” Norma says gently. “At least, that’s what he believed he was watching.” Her head shakes. “I believed it, too. But for Cash, he knew his father was responsible. And because of that, he feels responsible.”
“How do you know? How do you know about Cash and his father?” I whisper it, because it still feels like something I shouldn’t say out loud.
Norma looks to the window. I watch how she mulls over her words, always choosing so carefully. She’s always been that way. Nothing leaves her mouth without careful thought.
“Many years ago,” she says. “My parents lived in this house. My father tried to create a quiet life for my mother, but it was difficult.”
She looks at me. I see the age creeping up again; the decades of sorrow that she bears so well.
“You see, Hannah, my grandfather was Taylor Gray.” She nods. “You know that name, don’t you?”
My mouth drops open, but I don’t have words. Taylor Gray is the traitor who started all of this. I can only nod.
“My father’s name was Alex. He had a twin brother, named Simon. While my father had no interest in Taylor Gray’s ambitions, Simon committed his life to the Watcher program. He climbed the ranks, and eventually succeeded his father’s seat on the Council. In time, he also had a son.”
“Titus,” I whisper.
“That is correct,” Norma says. “Titus followed the same path as his predecessors. Only his cruelty exceeds them both. When Cash’s mother discovered that she was pregnant, she kept it a secret. Titus was never an attentive husband, so when she petitioned to be allowed to live away from the Fortress, Titus agreed. She was raised outside the city, so it was easy to believe she craved that setting once again.”
“Cash grew up in this home. His mother tried to raise him well, teaching him that the slave system was wrong. That the people deserved to be free. She was a sympathizer, Hannah. And it is because of her that the Resistance gained access to the valley. This home sits outside the southern edge.”
“How did you end up a Worker?” I ask it, but I know the answer as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“Did no one try to escape?” I asked Solomon when he told me the history of the valley.
He nodded. “A young couple did try, many years later. They were successful in escaping the valley. They were given shelter by another young couple and were to be assisted to the border. But that young man aiding them had one problem. He was one of Taylor Gray’s twin sons. In the end, they were found out. All four were sent back into the valley.”
“It was your parents,” I whisper. “They tried to help the Workers. He punished them by sending them into the valley.”
Norma nods. “That is true,” she says. “Cash discovered this just before the Resistance began extracting Workers. He came for me the night you escaped.”
I look off, absorbing her words. I believed that Norma and Albert had been taken, thrown into the streets or executed. But instead, Cash had rescued them. I shake my head.
“But why did he join then?” I say. “If he knew it was wrong, why would he ever choose it?”
Norma looks in my eyes. “For some people, they simply have to be told something, and they believe it. For others, they learn by experience. And this is often the harder path. Titus learned about Cash. He came to find him. When he saw what a strong, able-bodied young man Cash was, Titus grew determined to recruit him.”
“Did Cash know that Titus was his father?”
/> Norma shakes her head. “Not at first. And Titus used this to his advantage. He convinced Cash that his mother was a liar. That she had stolen him and kept them apart all those years.”
My chest squeezes. I close my eyes and say, “What happened to Cash’s mother?”
Norma swallows, and her head dips. “Titus had her killed. He learned of her treachery, that she was aiding rebels. It was years later that Cash learned of this. He’d served under his father, keeping his identity a secret, for six years.”
“Six years?” I breathe. “For six years he didn’t know his mother was dead?”
“Cash was always hesitant about his father’s methods. His mother’s lessons must have made a difference. As soon as Cash learned what happened to his mother, he fled. He sought out Takeshi and pledged his allegiance to him.”
“Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “He pledged his allegiance to Takeshi?”
“Of course,” Norma says, looking confused.
“Why?”
Slowly Norma’s face transforms. Her confusion shifts to wonder. She smiles.
“Takeshi is the son of your sovereign, Hannah.” She touches the back of my head, runs her hand down my hair and says,
“He’s the prince of the South.”
I look away. My gaze wanders the room like it’s searching for clarity. But I can see it. It is easy now. Takeshi has always been in control. Even when others seemed to be leading. I think of the mirror, and I feel strangely embarrassed.
“Do others know?”
“A few, I think. I’m not sure. But I believe it is best not to mention it to anyone.”
I nod. Turning to her, I say, “How do you know these things? How do you know so much? You lived in the valley, like me.”
Norma smiles. “I told you, Hannah. There is always more to a situation than what’s before you. There have always been sympathetic Watchers. In the beginning, my father had friends. And over the years, there were those who knew who I was. And they helped me. They also kept me informed about my young cousin.”
The Slave Series Page 20