A Light From the Ashes

by Rachel Anne Cox

  But was it the wrong side? Kyle cared about Gemma and respected so many things about her. Yet she agreed with the Watch, too. And even though Sam was no longer a fighter, he’d always been against the Corsairs. What if they were all right and he was wrong? Was he willing to stake his happiness and dream of the future with Mark against it?

  Kyle breathed heavily as he walked the path. He was grateful for the trees as shade against the oppressive sun. His fair and freckled skin burned easily. If it didn’t, he would have removed his shirt, already soaked with sweat. Another half hour and he’d be in the Wash District. He’d been walking all day and felt it. A rider approaching on horseback from up the road annoyed him simply because he was riding while Kyle was forced to walk. He didn’t ride quickly, just trotted at a leisurely pace.

  Simeon’s gaunt face looked strangely cool in the summer heat, tanned above his uniform. “Thought I’d ride out to meet you, son. How’d you like a ride into the District?”

  Kyle squinted against the glaring light as he looked up. “I’d like it fine, Father, but I’m not sure it would help the mission if I were seen riding in with you.”

  “I wasn’t being serious. But climb up. We need to talk before you go to the Senate.”

  * * * * *

  Zacharias and Gemma made their way to the cabin early in the day. Even still, the sun beat down through his white hair, burning his head. He should have worn a hat.

  “You know, I haven’t seen this place since I found you and Sam here all those years ago.” But it had been longer since he’d seen it before that. Not since he’d brought Jesse here to escape the city and the drones.

  The birds called to each other from their nests, and a squirrel was fussing at them for passing too close to his tree. He remembered Jesse never liked the cabin but made do. She always made things work. Zacharias started to wonder if this was a mistake. Maybe he should have let Gemma bring the children to him. Why had he asked to come with her to the cabin?

  “The kids have really done a great job with it. They’ve made it their own,” Gemma replied.

  Large dandelions populated the grass along the path leading to the cabin. Aged and browned with time since sprouting in the spring, the wishes still remained. As they made their way closer to the cabin, Gemma asked, “Did you ever feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility for me and Sam, and now with these kids?”

  “In what way?”

  “You know, it’s more than just making sure they have food, clothes, shelter . . . it’s up to us to teach them things. And how do I know I’m teaching them the right things?”

  “I’m not sure you can ever really know. You try to teach them what you’ve learned, what’s been important to you, or what you wish you’d known. But you can’t know what kind of job you’ve done until they’re grown.”

  The two walked into the cabin, their eyes adjusting as they left the glaring sunlight. The glass doors at the back had broken years ago and been replaced with uneven boards. The back of the cabin where the bedrooms used to be had collapsed when a bomb went off too close, leaving the building as just one great room and one falling-down bedroom.

  The children were all sitting in their individual corners they’d made into their sleeping quarters.

  “Who’s this?” Daisy asked with friendly curiosity.

  Gemma responded, “Come here, sweetie.”

  Daisy climbed in her lap in the rocking chair. The twins stayed huddled in their corner. Toby watched suspiciously. They didn’t like new people.

  “This is Zacharias. We call him Z, and he’s my adopted father.”

  “Hello, Z.” Daisy peered over Gemma’s shoulder.

  “Hi there, young lady.”

  “How would you kids like to come live in a real house near town and closer to me?” Gemma asked.

  Daisy responded with a smile and a hug. The other children continued to stare. “Can we live in your house, Gemma?” Daisy asked.

  “No, sweetheart. Not yet. But I’ll be really close, and we can see each other every day. Z is going to adopt you so you can get ID cards. That way, we’ll be able to get you all the clothes and food you need. Does that sound like a plan?”

  “Sure!” Daisy spoke for everyone. “When can we go?”

  “How about right now? Let’s get everything packed up.”

  As they began to gather the children’s things, Z tried to stay in the moment, tried not to let his mind wander to the past. But everywhere he looked, he was reminded of Jesse. He went to the rocking chair so he could close his eyes for a few minutes.

  “Z, are you alright?” Gemma asked.

  “I’m fine, honey. Just a little tired.”

  “We’ll be finished in just a few minutes. Then we can get you back to the house. Are you sure you’re okay with all this?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Gemma, we can’t forget the books,” Daisy reminded.

  Gemma walked to the side of the fireplace where she had placed all of the books she’d brought for Daisy for safe hiding.

  “Here, I’ll take those,” Zacharias offered. “What’s this?” He picked up the book from the top of the pile. Peter Pan.

  “That’s my favorite book,” Daisy answered cheerfully. “I found it here.”

  He ran his fingers gently over the brownish cover. Peter Pan’s face was fading, and the second star to the right no longer twinkled. This had been his children’s book. They’d brought it with them the night they fled the city. Even now, he could hear Jesse’s voice reading to their children. A tear found its way to his tired eyes.

  * * * * *

  Sophie had been gone two days. Sam knew he should have been working out in the field, but he sat in the house instead. Sitting by the window, he watched the dust float through rays of light in the air before him. He wondered if he had done enough to help Sophie on her mission. He should have insisted he go with her, even though he knew it wasn’t possible.

  He picked up one of the toys he was carving for Ethan, turned it over in his hands, contemplated finishing the job, then put it back down. He thought about going fishing, but what if Sophie returned while he was gone? It was killing him to just wait.

  The back door fell open, startling him out of his chair.

  “Sophie!”

  His eyes quickly took in the situation. She was breathing heavily. She’d been running. Her tunic was torn, and her left arm was bleeding. He rushed to close the door behind her, checking to see if she had been followed. Then he sat her down gently at the table before going to the cupboard for bandages and alcohol.

  “You’ve been shot,” he finally said, tearing the bandages in long strips. Despite her injury, a wave of gratitude came over him seeing her sitting and breathing before him.

  “Just a graze. I don’t think they were really aiming to kill me. Just shooting around me.”

  “What happened?”

  “Can I get a glass of water first?”

  Sam busied his hands, getting her the water, washing her face with a cold cloth. He sat in a chair facing her, looking at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

  She took several minutes to still her breathing, adjusting to being in her own home.

  “You’re safe now,” Sam said finally.

  “I had to double back a few times, but I think I lost them. I got past the Border fine the first day. Coming back was a different story. I didn’t dare go for a guard station. So I cut the fence with the wire cutters I’d brought. But the Corsairs heard, and a couple of them came after me. I guess I was just faster.” She tried to laugh it off, choosing not to think of what could have happened if she hadn’t gotten away.

  Sam rolled up her sleeve, gently wiping the blood away with another wet cloth. He took the bottle of alcohol, pouring some over the wound, letting it trickle into the cloth in his hand. Sophie inhaled sharply.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “It’s fine,” she said through clenched teeth.

  As he tied the ban
dage into a tight knot over the wound, he hesitated to speak again. He didn’t know why he felt as if he’d lost the bottom of his stomach. “This might leave a scar.”

  “Probably.”

  “It doesn’t look like it’s your first one.” His fingers gently traveled on their own to touch another scar on the side of her throat.

  “I’m sure we both have our scars.” She leaned forward, her breath cool on his neck. They sat holding each other for a few minutes, her head resting easily against his shoulder.

  “I can bring up some water so you can take a cool bath if you want.”

  “That would be heaven. Thanks.”

  When her bath was done, Sophie lit the candles in her bedroom and stood in her robe for a few minutes, looking out the window. The sun was setting over the fields below. The cornstalks reached and stretched, brushing against the leaves of an overhanging mulberry tree. Everything seemed to slow down here. She was able to wash away the hurry and danger of the days she’d just lived through. A blue jay landed in the maple tree just outside her window, calling imploringly for its mate. The leaves on the branch threw shadows and patterns against her.

  “Sophie, I thought you might need your bag. Oh, sorry.” Sam stopped in the doorway, embarrassment showing in red patches on his face. “I’ll just leave it here.” He turned immediately to go.

  “No, wait, Sam. Can you come here?”

  Turning back around, he saw her red hair still wet and pinned up. Her robe was closed, but loose. Her freckled skin shone in the flickering candlelight with the damp of having just been washed. And he thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful before.

  “Where’s Ethan?” she asked.

  “Z adopted those kids from the cabin. So I let him go and spend the night with his friends. In fact, I thought about maybe going over there myself. I just wanted to make sure to be here when you got back. But, you know, there’s probably a lot that Z needs help with over there.” He spoke rapidly, not allowing for a second of silence between words or sentences.

  “Or you could stay here.” There was something so innocent about the invitation. Sophie stood before him as they breathed the same air.

  Sam’s mind felt hot and muddled. How did she always smell like lavender?

  “Sophie, you know I want to as much as you do. But it’s against the law. It’s dangerous. What if someone found out?”

  “No law that I recognize. Besides, who would find out? Can’t we try to forget ridiculous laws for now? I mean, where is the line? If a law is evil, what moral obligation do we have to follow it? The law to turn in our neighbors suspected of rebellious behavior could turn into a law that says we have to shoot our neighbors in the back. The law against intimate relationships without marriage or against having a child without a government permit—what right do they have to tell people how or when to love, anyway?”

  She took his hands in her own. “You’re trembling,” she whispered against his ear.

  “We just have so much to lose,” he whispered, so quietly Sophie wasn’t sure she had heard him.

  “I know everyone you’ve loved and lost has taken a piece out of you. Won’t you let me try to give something back? I want us to have this moment and know that no matter what, we can always come back to it, wherever we are.”

  “Is a moment enough for you?”

  “Maybe not. Maybe I want more than a moment with you.” Sophie no longer sought control over her circumstances, but connection. Not just any connection, but connection with Sam. And just being close to him was not enough. She kissed him slowly, fully, hungrily, as if his lips here the bridge to his soul, and the kiss her transportation. She led him to the bed and removed his shirt. He too had scars she noticed from fights long past. Tracing the line of symmetry that ran the length of Sam’s whole body, she ran her thumb softly down his furrowed brow, his nose, the almost imperceptible cleft in his chin, his Adam’s apple, the hollowed line down the center of his chest and stomach. When she reached the waistband of his pants, she stopped and looked at him once again, his living green eyes, pools of wonder looking back at her.

  Sophie thought of the last time a man’s hands had been on her body, and it was not a pleasant memory. She tried to clear her mind because she knew Sam would be different. She knew him to be kind and gentle. And she knew that when her eyes met his, she could at least try to not be afraid. She felt him on her and around her, felt his hot breath in her mouth. And though she tried to stay in the moment, tried to tell herself she was safe with him, she felt her mind move down and away from her into a dark cave where she had no control, where all she could do was lie still and wait for it to be over. The room was spinning, down was up. She looked at the ceiling and stayed there, counting the planks of wood, noting the lines and crevices, well removed, while what was happening in the bed continued without her.

  All of Sam’s senses were mixed up and screaming. In the wide vibrating air, the world entered the room with them. The ocean roared in his ears as their bodies intertwined. He tasted purple, smelled blue, and felt as though he were falling. He tried to slow down and experience every tiny piece of her, every gesture, every freckle. But when he looked at her face, there were tears in her eyes, and she was looking at the ceiling. He knew she had been hurt by others before, and now he knew how she’d been hurt. He held himself very still, looking into her face and waiting for her to return to him in her own time. “Sophie, come back to me. You’re safe now.” He saw her eyes, but she seemed to be looking through him, not at him. “I would never hurt you. But we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready.”

  He lay down next to her, slowly putting his head on her chest. He felt the blood moving in her and through her. This thumping against his ear was the mechanism giving life to them both. Without the thump, thump, thump of the heart beneath his head, his heart would stop as well.

  A few minutes passed, and Sophie came back to herself. She was somewhat embarrassed to have had one of her episodes with Sam. She still wanted to be with him, and knew she had to take this chance to put the past behind her and create new memories. She needed to try again. Turning over, she lay on top of him. “I’m alright now.”

  “Are you sure? Where’d you go?”

  “Let’s not talk about it. Just be patient with me, alright?” She kissed him, caressing his top lip with hers. For the rest of the night, they each loved as they had never loved before. In memory and tears as she felt the most lost, she knew lying here next to Sam she had been found. The warmth of his love melted her defenses. The candlelight and their love forgave them of all imperfections.

  * * * * *

  In a meadow beyond the Wash District, a stream ran into a large pond. As it tripped and made its way into the pond, its current ran and rippled toward its final destination where the larger body engulfed the smaller, all signs of current or resistance lost in the greater waters. Simeon brought Kyle to this familiar spot, the place where they’d first been acquainted after Kyle was drafted into the Corsairs. Simeon felt Kyle behind him on the horse, shivering despite the heat.

  “Get down,” he commanded.

  Kyle made his way to the stream, automatically standing at attention when he reached the edge. His eyes looked straight ahead, focusing on nothing. Simeon approached behind him and commanded him to look down at his feet. There, a large anthill came up out of the grass, and all around it, tiny ants scurried to their collective jobs.

  “Look at them,” he began. “Every ant crawling on the ground is convinced he will be the one ant who will live forever, so he works like his future immortality depends on it. But every ant is wrong.” He lifted the toe of his boot, bringing it down on several ants, twisting and working their miniscule bodies into the ground. “Humans are no different. We can’t conceive of anything past our own consciousness, so we assume we will go on in some way or another. This knowledge makes most people’s actions very predictable.”

  Kyle saw the whip out of the corner
of his eye, then felt it tap him lightly on the shoulder.

  “Stay the course,” Simeon said.

  “Stay the course,” Kyle echoed.

  Simeon watched Kyle’s muscles ripple and stiffen the longer they stood next to the stream. He held the whip just within Kyle’s line of sight. As with a broken horse, all Kyle had to do was see the whip for it to have the desired effect. As Simeon continued to speak to his adopted son, he would tap him occasionally on the shoulder with the whip.

  “You remember the Box, don’t you?”

  Tap.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “A most effective teaching tool, don’t you agree?”

  Tap.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How long were you in there?”

  Tap.

  “A month, sir.” Kyle’s eyes were straight ahead again, no longer seeing the ants, the stream, or the trees in the distance. All he could see were the darkened, scratched cement walls of his month-long solitary confinement. All he could feel was his body baking in the oven they called the Box.

  “And what did you learn?”

  Tap.

  “The Corsairs bring order, everything else is chaos.”

  “The Corsairs bring order, everything else is chaos,” Simeon repeated. “Correct. And who gives you your orders?”

  Tap.

  “You, sir. For the Triumvirate.”

  “For the Triumvirate.”

  Tap.

  Just as easy as breaking a horse, Simeon thought. So predictable.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Sam rose early. He was glad to be awake first—it gave him the chance to bring Sophie breakfast in bed. She was awake when he returned to the bedroom with eggs, toast, and hot coffee on a tray. A red camelia from the bush outside the front door lay next to the plate.