When Fully Fused

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When Fully Fused Page 9

by Shari J. Ryan


  "Very well," the man agrees.

  "That's probably a good idea," Alex says. "I'll take care of this, Chlo. Stay here with your mom."

  The heat in my face is burning through all of my pores. My ears feel like there are flames shooting out of them, and I can feel the veins in my head pulsating against my tightened skin. "No,” I shriek. “I'm coming."

  The gray suit laughs and wraps his strong fingers around the lower part of my arm and whips me around. "Good.” He laughs. “Let's go, princess." He opens the front door and shoves me outside onto the front step. I feel Alex on the heels of my feet, leaving no space between us.

  My mother yells something from inside, but her voice is cut short as the man slams the door in her face. A car awaits us in front of the house, another shiny black sedan. He opens the door and Alex nudges me to get inside and then follows me in.

  There's no water or pretzels in this car.

  The gray suit jumps into the backseat with us and tells Alex to push in, squishing me into the left side of the car. "Well then, kids. Where are we heading?"

  I look at Alex. He's looking straight ahead out of the front windshield and remains silent.

  "You aren't going to tell me, are you?" the suit asks.

  Alex doesn't even blink in response to his question. "Floor it, Eddie," the suit directs the driver.

  Alex's hand slides down between our two laps and grabs my hand tightly. "Purgatory Chasm," Alex says.

  Alex remains still and unfazed by the new direction we seem to be heading in. I've heard of Purgatory Chasm before. There's a bunch of rocks, water, and woods. I'm not sure why Alex would tell him to go there. We’re racing down the highway, and I watch the trees blur around us. The air in the car is becoming scant, and my throat feels as if it's closing in. The muscles in my chest are aching all the way to my back. I’m panicking.

  It’s a figment. Why is it so hard to believe that?

  I see the road signs displaying the mileage left until we reach Purgatory Chasm. I wish I could read Alex's mind. Now would be a really good time to be able to do that. I wonder if he wants to run when we get out. Where would we run? He smoothes his thumb over my knuckles, and I know he's trying to tell me it's going to be okay. I don't understand how, though. I'm sure this man has a weapon on him, and I'm sure we aren't going too far without giving him an answer.

  Alex takes his hand off of mine and glides his fingers over his side cargo pocket. I move my hand slightly to feel against the pocket, as well. I feel something. I'm just not sure what. It has to be something that's going to protect us. He wouldn't have come here with nothing, knowing who we're dealing with.

  The car pulls up in front of a wooded area with picnic benches. I look out of the left window and see a cluster of large mountainous rocks. If running is the plan of action, then that's where we should head. The gray suit opens his door and slides out. Alex follows him, but before I can even slide out toward the one open door, I see the gray suit fall to the ground. Alex is hovered over him with blood dripping from his fist. The guy is still conscious but seems out of it enough to give us a head start on escaping.

  "You’re next if you don't get the hell out of here now," Alex yells to the driver. The driver doesn't even blink before he takes off for the street. "Chloe, go over there quick," Alex shouts, nodding his head toward the rocks. "I'll be right there."

  I hop out of the car, leap over the messy gray suit lying flat on the ground and run toward the rocks. I run, looking behind me—not taking my eyes off of Alex. When I’m halfway over to the rocks, Alex begins sprinting toward me. He catches up quickly and takes me by the arm, pulling me at a much faster speed than I was running. He stops at the rocks and lowers me down into a cave-like formation just as I see the gray suit push himself up and pull out his phone.

  Alex takes a moment to catch his breath and removes his cap to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. We're both crouched down, sitting with our knees folded up to our chests.

  "What now?" I ask, smudging the dirt off the top of his hand.

  "We stay here until nightfall—until we can get away without being seen," he says.

  “He’s a figment though, right?” I ask.

  He doesn’t respond. He drops his chin against his heaving chest.

  It's only two in the afternoon. We have to wait at least four more hours until the sun will set. Being hungry and needing to use a restroom shouldn’t matter right now, but the more I sit here and think about it, the more it's torturing me. Alex hasn't been talking. He's had his head buried in his knees for the past hour. I have so much I want to ask him, but I can't find the words. I feel cornered, constricted.

  ***

  Over the past couple of hours, we've exchanged a few words of comfort, or he has, mostly. But comfort is all they are worth. The truth still exists, and I can't for a second believe we're going to escape Franco's gray-suited army. I guess that's what I should call them now.

  "I wonder if all of those people in Paris, who were angry at me for taking the locket, were a part of Franco's army?" I look up at Alex for a response. "But I guess if they were, Franco and the gray suits would already know where the locket is. Right?" I further my questioning.

  "Not exactly," he says.

  “Well then what, Alex? Tell me something. Give me some kind of hope, will you?” I can’t help my anger. I need answers. I know he knows more than I do, but he won’t tell me anything.

  “You can have hope. You will come out on the other side. I promise you that.”

  “So, is this even real?” I ask again. He always tells me, ‘we are real,’ but I can never figure out if everything else is real.

  “Are your dreams real?” he asks. “Are anyone’s dreams real?”

  “I don’t know anymore,” I say. “Do you know?”

  He shrugs.

  The sun is beginning to set and my legs are cramped, my bladder is about to explode and my stomach has been screaming at me for hours. Alex must be feeling the same way as me. He's pulling himself up to a crouching stance and peeking his head out from under the cave of rocks.

  "Come here. Follow me," he says.

  I gladly stand up halfway and climb out of the hole we’ve been sitting in. He takes my hand and hops over a few boulders and then lowers me down another level. Once he jumps down, he takes my hand again and leads me over to a large boulder that's three times the size of all the others. It's split down the middle with a sign above that says, ‘Lemon Squeeze.’ He pulls me inside—we barely fit sideways. We're face to face, and he slides his hands onto my cheeks and over my ears. He pulls my face into his and presses his lips softly against mine. Kissing me with everything in his heart, I feel his body tremble against mine. He pulls away and his eyes are glued to mine. I can't help but to study each speckle in his blue irises glowing beneath the rising moon. The freckles on his face, the pinkness in his cheeks, the warmth of his hands around my face and the comfort of his body against mine is something I'll always love.

  "We're in a chasm." He smiles. "It's our crazy schasm place, remember?"

  I can't help the tears that are trickling down my cheeks. My body is quivering from emotional pain. I can't take the thought of losing him. I can't get myself to believe it. It can't happen. After everything we've fought for, why would that happen to us? It can't. Right?

  "Chloe, listen to me.” His voice is low and smoky. It’s comforting. “Things are going to get real bad here for a while. But I promise you will have every answer you need soon.”

  “I will?” I ask. “But are you going to make it out of this?”

  “Yes. I will make it through this. And so will you. However things end up, there will be a way to make things right again. You just need to believe in it."

  “You mean, you aren’t going to…you know…die?” I pray that his answer has changed from a day earlier. But why would it? Nothing has changed. If anything, things have gotten worse. A lot worse.

  “Chlo, it is what
it is. Just have some faith, okay?” He presses his lips onto my forehead.

  "How will anything be okay if you aren't with me? I couldn't live without you, Alex. Don't you know that?" I cry.

  "You will find a way to be with me," he says with confidence.

  “Please elaborate.” The irritation in my voice can’t be concealed. “I want to know what we’re doing before we go anywhere. No more secrets, Alex. I’ve seriously had it. Do you not understand this?”

  He presses his finger against my lips. “You’re so beautiful when you get mad.” He smirks.

  “Don’t play me, Alex.”

  “Okay. Fine. Ask me what you want,” he says.

  “Really?” This may take a while.

  “Yes, we have a few more minutes before the sun is gone. Ask away.”

  “That disturbance in Paris:—were those people part of Franco’s army?”

  “Franco’s army?” He laughs a little.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m calling them.” I cross my arms and lean back against the wall of the lemon squeeze.

  “Yes, they all were a part of Franco’s army,” he says, with air quotes around the word “army.” What else would I call it? They’re trying to attack us.

  “Is the locket still in the Catacombs?” I ask. If it was still there, Franco’s army would know its whereabouts since they were so protective of it when I had originally taken it.

  Alex looks up to the setting sun through the crack of the rocks we’re between. “No, it’s not there.” He exhales a long breath. “It never was.”

  “What?” My voice cracks. Where the hell is it? Why hasn’t he told me? “What was the locket I put back there, then?”

  “A replica. It’s always been a replica. But Franco knows it’s not real now. Chlo, you would have been in more danger if you knew the truth.” He places his hand on my shoulder.

  “Let me guess, Alex…it was for my own good?” I say with a snippy attitude.

  He laughs again. I’m glad he finds my anger so humorous. “Exactly,” he says, winking at me.

  “Whatever, Alex.” I turn my head to face the other side of the crack.

  “Any more questions?” he asks.

  I turn back to look at him. “Yes, obviously,” I say with more than a hint of hostility. “Where is the freaking thing? In my pocket?” I reach my hand in to clarify my own sanity, that I haven’t been carrying the thing around with me all day.

  He laughs at my behavior. He can laugh all he wants. I’ve been in the dark for so long, and I have a right to be angry. “Your mother has it.”

  “Oh! Perfect.” I groan. “Well that should be nice and easy to retrieve.”

  “You’ll find a way,” he says simply.

  “I’m doing it alone, I take it.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “I have one more question.”

  “That’s it? I figured you’d have an hour-long list.” He smiles and nudges his shoulder into mine.

  “Are you really going to die?”

  “Define die?” he says.

  “Really?” My heart sinks a little. Is there more than one definition to being dead? “Dead usually means you’re gone for good, Alex. I’m not dumb.”

  “Maybe I can prove you wrong.” He leans over and kisses my cheek. “It’s time to go now.” He starts shimmying out toward the exit of the crack, but I grab his arm.

  “Wait!”

  He stops. “You said you didn’t have any more questions.”

  “You didn’t answer me fairly,” I say.

  “I did, though. Everything will be okay, Chloe.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the clenched rocks. He’s just trying to lessen the emotional turmoil I’ll have to go through if, and when, he actually dies.

  We climb up the boulders that lead to the dark parking lot. There are no families here, no hikers or picnickers. There are no gray suits. It’s just us.

  Alex pulls his phone from his pocket and types in a message. “Who are you texting?”

  “The limo driver.”

  “I have another question,” I say, wrapping my arms around my body. The temperature has dropped significantly since the sun went down. It was cold with the sun, but now it’s freezing. I grab a sweatshirt out of backpack and pull it over my head. I still hate this place.

  “You said no more questions,” he says, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

  “Why can’t the police take Franco down?”

  “You’ll need him,” he says.

  “Um, what?” I laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

  A set of headlights blinds us from around the corner. My heart jumps into my throat briefly until Alex starts walking toward it. The car stops in front of us and Alex opens the back door. “Go ahead.” I slide in and settle into the seat.

  Water and pretzels again.

  “Hey man,” Alex addresses the driver. “Back to Logan Airport.”

  “We’re going home?”

  “No,” he says, looking out of his window.

  CHAPTER TEN:

  PARIS IN A DAY

  “ALL PASSENGERS traveling on Flight 363 to Paris, France, please report to gate 11,” the loudspeaker blares.

  Alex grabs my hand and starts jogging toward the gate. We just made it through security. “Paris?” I yell over the crowd of people around us.

  “Yes. We have to hurry.”

  ***

  You’d think they’d make the seats on international flights a little more comfortable. The man sitting next to me smells like a pine air freshener. He’s breathing heavily and he’s been crunching on peanuts since we sat down. As if my anxiety isn’t already at it’s maximum capacity, I have to sit in between Mr. Peanut and Alex who’s avoiding me like the plague.

  He mumbled some kind of plan to me while we were walking down the aisle to our seats, but I'm still not sure it makes any sense. He wants to derail Franco. Send him to Paris looking for the locket again. I don’t see how it will work.

  Once we land, we walk around the city, and I begin to feel my heart pounding in my throat. Realization is setting in quickly as we try to blend in with the crowds in order to remain hidden from anyone who might be looking for us, particularly Franco’s army.

  ***

  “What are we doing? Here of all places?” I ask, breathing in the sickly sent of the Catacombs. I will never get used to this stench.”

  “We have to return this to the rock you found it on.” He pulls his hand out of his pocket, revealing a locket.

  “How do you have that?” I ask, bewildered to think he’s had it on him all this time.

  He pulls out his map, unaffected by my distress. "We have to make it look like we’re replacing the locket. That’s all we have to do. Then we can go home.”

  “Again? Is that another fake one? Because if it is, I doubt they are going to fall for it a second time,” I say, dubious of his idea.

  “They’ll have to check it out at least. It’s buying us time right now,” he says.

  “Time? Until what, Alex?”

  He pushes me gently up against one of the walls that isn’t covered with skulls. He pins my shoulders back and his eyes pierce into mine. “You think I have all of the answers. I don’t. I don’t know much more than what’s going to happen at this moment. I haven’t seen this far ahead. Everything after Celia got attacked by a gray suit has been black. I’ve been putting pieces together as we go along. I’m as lost as you are right now. I’m doing my best to keep you safe. We can’t change my ending.”

  “How do you know?” I want to press my shoulders into his hands to pull him into me, but I can’t move. I feel weak under his grip. We’re both lost together now. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

  He slides his hands from my shoulders up and around my cheeks. He leans forward, placing his face only inches from mine. "I’m sure we only have a few minutes before Franco’s men find us down here.”

  “Are we surrendering to them?” I ask.

  He laughs. “No. I to
ld you, we’re throwing them off track to buy you some time.” Buy me some time alone. I can’t handle this. I can’t leave here without him. Is that what this is? He’s leaving me in the place that contains all of our beginnings, our vows? He’s closing our book where it opened. Hot tears build up behind my eyes and I want to cry hard until the pain in my chest stops aching, but I want him to talk. I want to hear his voice. I want to hear him, see him and smell him until I can’t anymore.

  “Don’t leave me.” My words are mixed with sobs and are barely comprehendible.

  “Chlo.” He places his finger under my eye to catch a falling tear. “I love you. And I need you to understand a couple of things.” He’s saying good-bye. I knew it. I need to sit. I can’t just stand here and listen to his reason for leaving me here in this world alone. I slide down against the rough wall until my butt hits the dust-covered ground. He squats down in front of me and places his hands over my knees. “I've been trying to give you a normal life while I could. I kept you on a need to know basis, because it would make your life less stressful and you happier. All I've ever wanted is to wake up to your beautiful smile every morning. And you've given that to me for the past five years. It's as much as I ever could have asked for.”

  I can’t swallow his words. He’s trying to say good-bye. I need to keep him here in this spot. More questions. That will keep him here. "Why does the locket belong to me?" I ask.

  He places two fingers on my temple. "Everyone has one. It’s the part of your brain that allows you to release a state of unconsciousness. Do you understand that?” I suddenly do. Whatever is in the locket, or in my mind that has been closed and locked, is the key to waking up from all of this? But will I wake up back in the institution again? Is that what I’m fighting for? A confined life without Alex? I’d rather die with him. “For as long as Franco can keep you from the locket, or you accessing that part of your brain, he will have control over you. When you lose the will to be here in this life—in this realm in which we treat as real, you will need the locket—you will need to access that part of your brain. It will fix you.”

 

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