by Tarah Benner
Most of the snow had melted here. With the setting sun illuminating the fields, it should have been beautiful, but I only saw people whose lives had been taken from them by the PMC. They had been forced from their farms and relocated to a sterile, crowded commune or taken prisoner.
As we drew closer to the farm, I couldn’t sit still. My nerves were tingling, and I could only release some of my pent-up energy by jiggling my leg against the car door.
“You better prepare yourselves,” murmured Godfrey. “We don’t know what we’ll find here.”
Logan reached into the crate and began passing out rifles.
Roman took his and began loading it with relish. “Let’s go hunting.”
“Now, hang on,” said Godfrey. “We’ve got to be smart about this. If it is PMC occupied, there’s bound to be more of them than there are of us.”
“We should park down the road and ambush them,” said Amory.
Godfrey nodded grimly. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“Ida said they wanted her farm for food production,” Logan said. “So won’t they be gone until spring?”
Godfrey shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes scanning the road. “They didn’t want it for that.”
“What then?” said Amory. “Why did they take her farm in the first place?”
“I don’t know.”
As we drove, the cornfields turned into pastures, and the pastures turned into woods. We turned off onto a narrow gravel road, and the trees became even denser.
Godfrey pulled off the side of the road and killed the engine. We all spilled out of the 4Runner, and I checked my pockets for extra ammunition. My heart was thudding hard in my chest. It was one thing to take out a bunch of carriers; it was another thing to fight a troop of PMC officers. They were properly trained — lethal. I would die trying to escape rather than be taken prisoner again.
Nobody spoke as we picked our way through the trees along the gravel drive that led to the farmhouse. It seemed years since I had first stumbled bleeding and starving through the woods to the cornfield on the other side of Ida’s property. The relief and hope I had felt that day grew stronger with every step. It no longer felt like watching a film of someone else’s life. The farm was rescuing me all over again.
Suddenly, I heard the dull thunk of metal, and Roman let out a fluent stream of profanity. “What the fucking hell?”
I squinted through the dim light and could just make out something hanging from the tree in front of him at eye level. Dangling from a piece of string was an empty Spam can. I watched it sway there for a moment like some bleak Christmas ornament, mocking us and making me a little hungry.
“That’s weird,” he said, tugging down the can and tossing it into the underbrush.
It was. Nobody threw away food like that . . . unless they were trying to attract a bigger animal.
We started walking again, and Logan swallowed down a shriek. She’d smacked into another strange tree ornament, but this wasn’t a can of Spam — it was a dead opossum strung up by the neck.
I backed away from the accusing stare of its beady crossed eyes and swallowed down the bile burning in my throat.
Who had hung these things here? Ida was certainly eccentric, but I didn’t remember her ever doing anything like this. It would have drawn —
The realization came too late.
That was when I heard it: the low rattle of dying breaths, the rip of metal, and the drunken cadence of uneven footsteps.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I whipped the beam of my flashlight toward the source of the noise and saw the shadowed figure of an emaciated carrier pawing at a suspended tuna can. Her skin took on a sickly grayish hue in the artificial light as her sunken eyes drifted lazily toward me.
Amory was the closest. He raised his rifle and shot the carrier cleanly in the head. She looked surprised. Then she teetered for a second before collapsing into a tangle of bushes.
I heard another one shuffling around somewhere behind me. I raised my rifle, but I couldn’t see it. Darkness was descending quickly, and I was just as likely to shoot Logan or Roman as I was to hit the carrier that was ripping into the rotting flesh of the nearest dead animal.
Godfrey dispatched him before he got too close. The carrier pitched forward and fell at my feet, and I realized he had been eating the opossum. I was simultaneously disgusted and a little sad. This carrier had been a person once, and now he was so desperate he would eat the rancid carcass of a dead animal.
“Let’s keep moving,” Godfrey growled in his scratchy voice.
My pulse was still throbbing too fast, but I picked my way around the hanging bait. Who would do such a thing?
We didn’t encounter any more carriers, but my ears were ringing in their desperation to pick up the slightest rustle of dead leaves or the clang of the perverse wind chimes.
Finally, the gap between the trees widened, and the farm came into view. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
This was not the farm from my memories. The once meticulous vegetable patches had been trampled by PMC boots. There were no animals grazing on the hill. The old red barn was gone. Wood debris and trash lay everywhere, as though it had been demolished with dynamite. The cheery green farmhouse was still standing, but it had warped two-by-fours nailed over its doors and windows. It looked condemned.
The tall trees that had stood between the house and the field were gone, and the fields looked as though the dirt had been churned by heavy machinery. It was drenched in the last slivers of light from the blood-red sun, which threw shadows from the lone, angry backhoe parked in the middle of the field. Orange construction tape draped over an area in the middle, where a concrete foundation had been poured, taking up nearly half of one field.
Logan clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes swimming with tears.
Ida’s farm had been destroyed.
Godfrey, Roman, and Amory fanned out to my sides, and I stepped out of the trees with my rifle raised.
I didn’t see a single living soul. It looked as though the PMC construction crew had stopped in the middle of what they were doing. Perhaps a winter storm had taken them by surprise, or maybe they had simply abandoned the project. Had they set the bait for the carriers, or had the carriers run them off?
It only took us a few moments to prowl the perimeter of the field and boarded-up house for World Corp personnel. Greyson took out a third carrier that had dragged a dead squirrel out of the tree line to feast in the backyard, but other than that, we were alone.
Logan was already standing on the edge of the field, squinting at a sign I had missed. It was an illustrated mockup that showed a nuclear power plant in the middle of the field. The picture showed a building where the barn had once stood and a smaller outbuilding where the farmhouse was now.
“They destroyed her farm for this,” whispered Logan.
I nodded.
“What a waste.”
“It makes sense. World Corp needs power.”
I regretted my words as soon as I’d spoken. Logan turned to me, anger burning in her teary eyes.
“How can you be so cold about this? Do you really not remember anything about this place? Don’t you care about Ida?”
“I remember,” I said. “I remember how much I loved it here.”
Logan’s eyes widened. “You do?”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure how or why, but running with Greyson and Amory had opened the floodgates to my memories: Greyson being hauled away by the PMC, Amory kissing me outside Sector X, Greyson by my side at Rulon’s camp, Amory writhing in pain, our bodies tangled together in a darkened room . . .
“What else do you remember?”
“Things are coming back,” I said, feeling a smile playing on my lips. “And it’s not just the memories . . . I’m beginning to feel like myself.”
Logan broke into a huge, watery smile, and before I could say or do anything, she threw her arms around me and crushed me against her.
“That’s wonderful, Haven. I’m so happy!” She pulled back. Her eyes were swimming again. “I couldn’t lose you, too. I’m not strong enough to lose anyone else.”
I thought of Max and felt a pang of sorrow. “I’m here.”
“What about Amory? Does he know?”
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be fair to him. It only just started coming back in pieces.”
“Do you love him?”
I swallowed, unsure what to say. On the one hand, the feelings that had come rushing back last night had been overwhelming. I knew I had loved him, but those old feelings still felt so new.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think I did love him. And if everything comes back . . .”
Logan squeezed my arm, unable to contain her excitement.
“Please don’t say anything to him,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to get his hopes up.”
Logan rolled her eyes. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You will remember.”
As though that settled everything between us, Logan looped her arm through mine and steered us back toward the house. Roman was already fighting the two-by-fours, trying to pry them away from the front door with a crowbar. Godfrey walked back down the road to pull the 4Runner around while the rest of us watched.
Finally, after a lot of swearing and sweating, there was a crack of wood, and Roman fiddled with the front door. It swung open with a groan, and we walked inside, rifles raised.
A musty stench hit my nostrils. The house was freezing, and the air was thick with dust. Roman walked into the living room, a flashlight balanced between his teeth, and began yanking the sheets off the couches. It made my stomach ache to think of Ida covering her furniture, so certain she would return.
I walked into the kitchen, and more memories ghosted through my mind. My heart contracted when I remembered Max hovered over the stove in his ridiculous apron, Frank Sinatra blaring as he fried eggplant.
The worn kitchen table was still there. So was the ugly wallpaper in the dining room. Everything was exactly the same — as though time had stood still. A cold draft of air hit me from the sliding glass door, which was cracked open beneath the boards.
Then I heard a loud thud. There was a high-pitched cry that didn’t sound human, and Roman swore again.
I tore up the stairs after him, rifle poised.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw him standing halfway up the stairs near the landing, breathing hard. I followed his gaze of horror, holding my breath in preparation for a carrier’s putrid stench.
But it wasn’t a carrier.
Just a few stairs above Roman, glowering down at us with huge yellow eyes, was Ida’s cat.
“Magnus,” I said without thinking, surprising myself when I recalled his name.
“That fucking furball is a menace! I could have broken my neck tripping over him.”
I bit my lip to suppress a laugh.
“How is he still . . . alive?”
I grinned. “Why didn’t Ida take him with her?”
“He’s a stray. He was just here all the time because Ida fed him.”
“I think she left the back door open so he could get out of the snow.”
“Stray cats . . . carriers . . . that woman doesn’t know where to draw the line.”
I stomped up the stairs past him, giving Magnus a wide berth. I reached the first landing with the bedrooms that had belonged to Logan, Roman, Max, and Ida. Max’s door was wide open, and I closed it discreetly as I passed. I didn’t want Logan to have to see it until she was ready.
Anxious to reach the comfort of my old room, I bounded up the narrower staircase leading to the attic, as though drawn by a magnetic force.
I was remembering everything.
On my left, I saw sudden movement coming from inside Amory’s room. I jumped, but it was just Amory sitting in the dark on his bed, staring out the window in a daze. He looked around when he saw me.
“Hey,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Hey.” I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, unsure what to say. “Happy to have your old room back?”
He nodded, eyes raking over his shelf of books, the cozy sloped ceiling, and the starlight filtering in from the tiny window. “Yeah. This was the only place where I ever felt . . . at home.”
I nodded. “I hope we’ll be able to save it.”
“Yeah. Ida couldn’t stand World Corp controlling it.”
“Do you think they’ll be back?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It’s possible the carriers made them abandon the project.”
I shivered. “You think that bait was from someone else? One of us, I mean?”
He nodded slowly. “I’m not sure. But if that’s the case, it means there are others out there. We need to scout the area to see if whoever it is will help us defend the farm if they do come back.”
“We should rebuild the barn,” I said. “I hate seeing the place like this.”
Amory gave me a funny look that was a mixture of amusement and wariness. “I’m curious . . . when did it become ‘we’ again for you?”
The heat rushed to my face, and I immediately wanted to run away. He probably thought I was crazy.
Amory must have sensed my discomfort, because his face softened, and his eyes flickered over my face.
“I’m sorry . . . about earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
Amory shrugged, his shoulders relaxing, and I had the strange urge to tackle him to the bed and wrap my arms around him.
I expected that impulse to earn me a sharp stab of pain to the back of my head, but all I felt was the dull shadow of pain.
“I won’t interrogate you again,” he said. “I just . . . I wanted to know when you came back on our side.”
I smiled in relief. “I think I was always on your side. It just took the raid, the commune, and everything else for me to realize it.”
I looked away, focusing on his bookshelf so I wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.
“You probably think I’m so weak. They had such a hold on me when I first got out . . .”
Amory’s face crinkled in distress. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I never thought that.”
Before I could say or do anything, he stood up, filling the room at his full height and crossing to where I stood. “Haven, I never thought you were weak or somehow less because you’d been brainwashed. I of all people understand what they’re like, and you were there for almost two months. I only had three weeks of it, and I felt like I was losing my mind.”
He enveloped my hands with his bigger ones, staring down at the way they swallowed mine. My breath caught in my chest.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get you out sooner.” He looked up, his eyes pleading. “I swear I tried. After you broke me out, they tightened security significantly — facial recognition that cross-referenced the database of wanted illegals, guards, multiple pass codes to enter the building. Godfrey didn’t have any more of those CIDs, so we had to wait until we could buy some.
“Then he had to find a way to bring down all their extra security. Even then, it wasn’t a sure thing. That’s why I didn’t want anyone else going in with me. I figured at least if I got caught, Greyson or Logan could try.”
I looked at him and felt the familiar warmth spreading from my chest. This wasn’t a memory of what I had felt for Amory; it was a new surge of affection that didn’t rely on my scattered memories.
“Not a day went by that I wasn’t thinking about you and how I would get you back,” he continued, his voice cracking.
“I know,” I said. “I remember what it was like being on the outside when they had you. It was awful.”
Amory shook his head. “It was so much worse knowing how I felt when I first got out and wondering how far gone you were going to be. I thought they would just try to turn you into a killer, like they did with me.” His voice hitched. “I didn’t know they wou
ld make you forget me.”
“They tried.”
Amory’s eyes widened hopefully, but his expression cleared in an instant.
“I’m sorry I pushed you. It wasn’t right, and I won’t do it again. But just know that it doesn’t matter if you never remember.” A smile flickered across his face. “I’ve decided I’m going to start over.”
I stared at him, so sure my mouth was hanging open like a cartoon. This couldn’t be happening. I’d only just begun to remember him, and now he was giving up. It was foolish and irrational, but I wondered instantly what other sorts of girls he could possibly meet on the run from World Corp and the PMC.
He must have caught my expression, because he added, “I’m starting over with you, Haven. I got you to like me once. I think I can do it again.”
A dam broke inside me, and pure joy flooded in. I let out a strangled laugh. “I think you can, too.”
I pulled away, still smiling, and backed down the stairs. I needed to leave, because I knew if I stayed there one more minute, I was going to tell him that I’d started to remember. I didn’t want to give him false hope in case my full memory never returned, but I also wasn’t ready for his reaction.
If he thought I remembered him, he would want to pick up where we left off, and I wasn’t ready. Just picking through the scattered memories left me blushing.
As I descended the stairs, I heard someone rummaging in the kitchen cabinets. Logan was kneeling on the countertop, opening all the empty cupboards.
She groaned when she saw she had an audience. “Ida didn’t leave us a single scrap to eat.”
“We have the provisions that Godfrey packed.”
Logan wrinkled her nose. “Beans, beans, and more beans? I think I’ll pass. We’ll have to raid some stores tomorrow.”
“What about the cellar? Do you think Ida cleared out all the stuff from the garden we used to can?”
She wheeled around. “Haven, you’re a genius! I can’t believe you remembered that and I didn’t!”
I grinned at the casual way she’d referred to my muddled memory. At least I could always count on Logan not to mince words.