Since there was no way to break into the base without getting killed himself, Sean had settled on working for the resistance until Billy could get him more information about Rebecca.
Before Sean could say more, Wallace summoned him from down the hall.
“I’ll take you to the carrier tomorrow,” he said.
“Sean, wait,” I said as he was leaving. “I just … I’m so sorry.”
He looked at me for a long time through tired eyes. They were not resentful, not mistrusting anymore. He didn’t blame me. And somehow that made me feel worse.
“It’s them, Miller. Not us. It’s the FBR that should be sorry.”
* * *
AFTER a while I went to the window, comforted by the cold air on my face. It was dark now. Through the bars of the fire escape I could see headlights snaking through the city intersections in the distance, and the goose bumps rose on my skin. Curfew was on. The MM was just below. All around. Everywhere.
It’s the FBR that should be sorry, Sean had said.
He was right. They’d taken Rebecca. They’d taken my mother. They’d nearly broken Chase. Now we could never go home. We would have to live in hiding forever.
I tried to force my thoughts elsewhere but was bombarded by images from the day. The throngs of starving people. The dead man by the generator. Sean—when I hadn’t known it was Sean—yanking me through the crowd. The acceptance that Chase could still make it, even if I didn’t.
He was stronger. A fighter. He could survive in this world.
“We need a new plan. New rules,” I began, trying to sound strong. Chase had been listening down the hall, but at the sound of my voice he stepped away from the doorway and waited for me to continue. I hoped he wouldn’t try to be difficult; it was hard enough acknowledging what I was about to say myself.
“If the MM finds one of us, the other needs to go on. The other needs to get to the safe house and find my mom and make sure she’s okay.”
My words sounded hollow. He didn’t say anything.
“You can’t come after me if I get taken, do you understand?”
Still nothing.
“Chase!” I slammed a fist down on the windowsill and the pane rattled. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes.” He was standing right behind me. I spun into him.
“Yes, you’ll do it?” I knew I should be relieved, but I didn’t feel it.
“Yes, I’m listening. No. I won’t do it.”
The same fear iced my spine that I’d felt earlier today in the square. The fear that my mother would be on her own. The fear that Chase would be caught and condemned to death. The tears were coming now; there was no use trying to hide them.
“Why not? If something happens to me…”
“Nothing is going to happen to you!” He grabbed me by the elbows, making me stand on my tiptoes. His eyes burned with the anger I knew he only reached through fear. How did I know that about him? I thought fleetingly. How could I read that, when I hardly knew what I was feeling?
“What if something does?” I threw back. “I can die, just like Katelyn Meadows! I can starve like that man in the square! I can be taken by the MM, or shot—”
“STOP!” he shouted. My mouth fell open. He breathed out unsteadily, his face pale in the dark room, and tried to compose himself. He was only mildly successful.
“Ember, I swear on my life, I will not let anything like that happen.”
I crumpled in his arms, crying freely now because I was afraid. Because I didn’t want to die. Because if I did, I had secured no future for my mother or Chase. For the people I loved.
I hadn’t ever cried before him like this. Everything I’d been holding back crashed over me. Losing my mother. Missing my friends. Hurting Sean and Rebecca. The carrier on Rudy Lane begging for his son. The man in the square. Chase pulled me in tightly, sheltering me with his body, hiding me from the fears that lashed both of us.
“Why did you come after me?” I sobbed. “If Sean had been a real soldier, you could have been killed.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do!”
“I won’t leave you.”
I shoved back. He was averse to letting me.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing anyway? Leaving? Just as soon as we get to the safe house?”
He opened his mouth, closed it.
“I … I was going to leave that up to you.”
What did that mean? I could just kick him away from his own safety because I didn’t want him around? As if we hadn’t lived five yards apart for most of our lives? Who was I to make that call? No, that wasn’t the reason. He was deflecting to me because it was easier for him if I was the one that pushed him away. That way he wouldn’t have to hurt feelings. That way he could run back here and join the resistance.
“Let go of me,” I said unsteadily. I tried to breathe, but my lungs felt constricted. “I know you want to keep your promise, so go ahead. Protect me. But when we get there, your obligation’s over. You don’t owe me a thing. I survived you leaving before, Chase. I’ll do it again.”
He stared at me, shocked. I could hardly believe what I had just said.
“I’m tired now,” I said. “There are more than enough people taking watch.” I reminded myself to keep my chin lifted as I opened the door. “I’ll be fine alone.”
“I won’t.”
Before I could turn toward him, he placed his hand over mine and closed the door softly. I became aware of every one of his movements. The tightening of the muscles in his shoulders. The difference in his breathing. Each one of his warm fingers over mine. And the changes in myself, also. The tingling of my skin. The doubt, like a stone in my belly.
“I’m not fine,” he said. “Not without you.”
My whole body felt like I’d just missed a step going down the stairs. What he was saying didn’t make sense, but the emotion soaking through his words affected me.
“Don’t mess with me, Chase. It’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed, somber and conflicted.
“What are you saying?”
He put a hand on his throat, as though trying to stop the words, but they came anyway.
“You’re home. To me.”
My first thought was one of self-preservation. He’s going to take it back. Just like at the Loftons’. Like in the woods again afterward. I wanted to tell him to stop, just so it didn’t hurt when he did, but I couldn’t. I wanted it to be real.
I sat on the bed.
“I remind you of home,” I clarified, feeling the memories of the past conjured.
He kneeled before me. “No. You are my home.”
I was too surprised to speak.
I thought of home, what it meant to me. Safety and love. Happiness. I could only guess what it meant to someone like Chase, who’d had no center holding him, no stability or consistency since his parents had died.
And all this after he’d heard what I’d done to Sean and Rebecca.
He was watching me, trying hard to read my reaction to his words. I wanted to tell him just how much they moved me, but nothing could touch what I felt.
Tentatively, I reached for his hand, and when he gave it willingly, cradled my cheek within it. I could see him swallowing, see his big brown wolf eyes go dark, as they always did when harboring some deep emotion. He leaned closer.
“Think about me,” he whispered. And then his lips touched mine.
His kiss was so soft it felt the way my memories did when I imagined his touch a year ago. When he was only a ghost reminding me I was alone. I needed more. I needed him to be here now, not just an echo of the past.
I pulled him closer. His kiss deepened at the invitation, making my whole body feel alive and electric. Then his hands drifted to my shoulders, and down, around my back, leaving streaks of heat in their wake.
“It was you,” I said softly. “It’s always you I think about.”
The intensity in his gaze took my breath away.
I could feel him. Every part of him. His soul was sewn to mine. His heated blood flowed through my veins. I’d thought that I had been close to my mother, and I was, but not like this. Chase and I barely touched—our hands, mouths, knees—but there was no part of me that was not his.
I couldn’t speak, but if I could, I would have told him I’d missed him. That I accepted who he had become, with his guilt and his fears. That I would stay beside him as he healed.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Could he hear my thoughts? It did not seem unreasonable. Whatever his motivation for thanking me, I felt grateful too.
He held me as our heartbeats slowed and joined into one single pulse. And my mind went completely and blissfully silent.
* * *
I WAS woken by a racket in the hallway. I didn’t know how long I’d slept, but I was now lying on the sleeping bag alone.
Had I dreamed what had happened earlier? Everything had felt so surreal these past few days; Chase’s confession was really right in line. Still, my lips remembered the pressure of his, and my heart hurt with his absence.
I sat up, pulling on my boots, and ventured into the hallway. It was dimly lit and empty. The sound seemed to be centering from Wallace’s room, and I snuck toward it. From the outside I heard the man’s voice, speaking in low tones.
“You sure you won’t change your mind?” he asked.
“Not now,” said Chase. “Maybe someday.”
I stuck my head around the door. Chase was leaning back against the kitchenette counter with Billy, while Wallace and Sean stood opposite.
His eyes found mine, and for a moment everything around him wavered. I knew then that I hadn’t dreamed up what had happened between us. That it had been real and that he’d felt it too. I blushed.
Chase came over to me, ending the conversation with the others. He held out his hand, and I took it. I couldn’t hide the shy smile that blossomed at the gesture.
“Wait a minute.” Wallace grinned, and I knew what was coming before he continued. “You’d be welcome in our family, Miller.”
I saw the MM’s credo then, as it had been painted on the outside of the van that had taken my mother. Then on the wall of the house on Rudy Lane, and on the semitruck in Hinton. One Whole Country. One Whole Family. Wallace believed you could choose your family. If the country’s stepchildren all joined together, we might really be whole after all.
A crack of thunder outside. And then the rain began to beat against the covered windows. Sean lit another candle and placed it on the counter behind us.
“I told you no, Wallace,” said Chase. I could feel him tense.
He was right. I couldn’t join the resistance. Not now. But I didn’t like Chase answering for me. My brows drew together.
What had they been talking about? Chase hadn’t said a word to these people earlier, but they’d held a secret meeting when I’d been asleep? My shoulders began to rise. I tried to meet his eyes, but he was staring at Wallace.
“Why did they throw you into custody?” Wallace asked me. There was curiosity in his voice, but I knew he was asking to make a point. Exploiting the injustice of my capture would give me reason to fight.
“Not important,” Chase answered for me.
“Article 5,” said Sean. “That’s why half the girls in reform school are there.”
“Let’s go,” Chase said suddenly. Was he trying to protect me? It didn’t feel right.
“Sick, all that business. That’s why I got out. Stuff like that.” Wallace scratched his arm, and I saw the end of a black braid of wire sneaking out at the wrist beneath his long sleeve.
“You left the MM because they send girls to reform school?” I asked slowly. That seemed an odd thing to do.
The energy of the room had changed completely. It was strained now, grievous.
Chase was pulling me into the hallway.
“Wait,” I told him. The rain was coming in pattering waves.
“He left because of the executions,” Billy said helpfully. I remembered the carrier in Harrisonburg. I knew what the MM was capable of. The blood drained from my face.
“Who?” I asked.
“Shut your mouth,” Chase said harshly to Billy.
“The Article violators.” Billy looked mutinous.
My heart stopped.
“That’s enough, Billy!” snapped Wallace. He passed Chase a hard, judging stare.
“You don’t know?” Sean’s eyes darted to Chase, too. “I thought you told her.”
“Don’t say another word,” Chase threatened. Billy stuck his chin out defiantly. Sean jumped between the two of them.
“No, do. Please do,” I said.
“Ember, come on,” Chase had a hard grip on my arm and was pulling me away.
“Stop it!” I shouted. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”
Rain. Waves of it. Pelting the motel.
“The Article violators, the AWOL soldiers. They’re executed, like Billy said,” Sean spoke quietly. Chase took a step back. “She has a right to know,” he finished.
“They’re going to execute me?” I asked weakly.
“Not you,” said Billy. “The people charged. Your mom.”
CHAPTER
14
THE room began to spin. I braced myself against the counter, vaguely aware that Billy and Wallace had left.
“Ember,” Chase said slowly. He did not approach me.
“Why would they do that?” I asked weakly. But even as I asked I knew it was possible. I’d been in the checkpoint on Rudy Lane when the MM had found the carrier.
“We don’t exactly fit the bill for a new, moral country,” said Sean grimly.
I rounded on him.
“You knew. At the reformatory. You knew when I was trying to escape and you didn’t tell me.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I’d heard rumors. You have to understand, I thought you were going to tell Brock about Becca and me. I thought if you didn’t have a reason to leave, you wouldn’t have a reason to keep the secret.”
“Get away from me.”
He backed up.
“Ember.” Chase cradled my name as though it was an injured bird.
He’d known this all along. He’d hidden the truth. Why hadn’t he told me?
“We have to leave.” I shoved past him, sprinting to our room. People were out in the hallway watching me, but I barely noticed them. The fear was so thick in my body that I could hardly swallow. My knees felt very weak, but I knew I had to be strong. Yes, now I had to be especially strong.
I threw the backpack over my shoulders too quickly and had to grasp the wall to steady myself.
“Damn it, Ember. Hang on.” Chase tried to pry the pack off. His face was pallid in the candlelight.
“Don’t. We’re going. We don’t have time!” I yelled at him. “What’s wrong with you? We have to go!”
“Ember, take off the pack.”
“Chase! She’s in danger! They’re probably looking for her right now! We have to find her!” Hot tears, full of confusion and terror, ripped from my eyes. I wasn’t angry with him. I was too frightened to be angry.
“We can’t go. Not now.”
“She’s scared! I know her. No one takes care of her like I do!”
He backed away from me into the wall. His eyes were enormous, glassy, and just as terrified. I thought for a moment that he finally understood. But I was wrong.
“Ember, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry! Let’s just go!”
“Ember!” He punched his own leg. The move was so violent it stopped me cold. “She’s dead.”
What a horrible thing to say. That was my first coherent thought. What a cruel, hideous thing to say.
The bag seemed very heavy now. It was pulling me backward. It slid to the floor with a thump.
“What?” That voice sounded distant to my ears.
He moved his hands over his mouth, as though to heat them with his breath.
�
��I’m so sorry. She’s gone, Em.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “Why are you saying that?”
“She’s dead.”
“Stop!” I screamed. The tears released in full force. I could barely breathe.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re wrong. You’re wrong!”
He shook his head.
“I was there.” His voice cracked. I felt the wall support my weight.
“You … were there? What are you talking about? We have to go.” This time my voice had no volume. No conviction.
Somehow we were both on the floor. He grabbed me, pulling me hard against him. I was too shocked to struggle.
“I thought if I told you, you wouldn’t come with me. Or that you’d run away. I know it was wrong, Ember, I’m so sorry. I needed to get you safe first. I was going to tell you once we got there.”
He wasn’t deceiving me. His tortured face spoke the truth.
My mother was dead.
I became aware of a screaming pain at two points. The front of my head and the center of my gut. Icy knives of reality stabbed into those places. Stabbed at me until I bled. Until my body was turned inside out.
I could hear her. I could hear her voice. Ember. She called my name. How could she be dead when I heard her so clearly?
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted you safe. I’m so sorry.”
He was too close to me. Crowding me. I pushed him away.
“Get back,” I groaned.
“What do I do?” he asked me desperately. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What happened to my mother?” I asked him.
He hesitated. He wasn’t going to say.
“Tell me!” I insisted. “Why is everyone hiding everything from me? Tell me!”
“Ember, she died. That’s all you need to know.”
“Don’t be a coward!”
“Okay. All right.”
He kneeled in front of me, his arms now crossed over his midsection. His shoulders were shaking. A line of sweat poured down his temple.
“Fighting didn’t turn me, so my command needed something else. Tucker showed them letters. Ones I had written back to you. I thought they’d been mailed but … he’d been hoarding them. They learned who you were. That I didn’t end it with you like I was supposed to. They told me I had to buy in or … Jesus. Or you’d be hurt. So I cut a deal. No more fights. No more you. And they’d promote me to show the others that the system always wins. I did whatever they said. I thought it would work, that they’d leave you alone, but it didn’t matter.
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