Genesis Girl

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Genesis Girl Page 19

by Jennifer Bardsley


  Beau doesn’t respond for a few moments. But then he reaches out his own cuff, and the blessing is complete.

  “Blanca!” he says harshly, as if his vocal chords have been damaged.

  “You need to eat,” I say. “Come out so I can give you some food.”

  He’s skeletal. As soon as Beau crawls out from under the bed, I see how much he’s truly suffered. I don’t recognize him. His hair is matted around his face like he’s grown wild.

  “Eat,” I say. “Eat your fill and get stronger.”

  Beau waits a few seconds, suspicious, and then he tears into the food with both hands.

  I take the linen napkin and wipe away the plum juice dripping down Beau’s chin. He scarfs down the food so fast I worry he’ll choke. “I’m going to be back, Beau. I’ll get us out of here. So you have to be ready. Do you understand me? You have to be prepared.”

  “Fatima?” Beau says, suddenly remembering. “How is Fatima?”

  “She’s okay,” I say, hoping it’s the truth. Cal will keep Fatima safe, if he’s still alive. “You need to get stronger so that when we escape, we can go back to her.”

  “But what about Barbelo?” Beau asks. “He says that—”

  “It doesn’t matter what Barbelo says,” I say softly. “He’s not the boss of you.”

  “Then who is? Who?”

  “Nobody’s the boss of us,” I answer. “That’s why you need to get better. So you can take care of yourself. We both need to be strong so we can both leave.”

  I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

  Beau takes deep breaths, gasping for air, like he’s breathing for the first time. “Blanca, I … ” But he can’t finish his sentence.

  “I need to go now, but I’ll return tomorrow.” I enclose Beau in my arms and rest his head on my shoulder. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

  Beau doesn’t say anything. But he hugs me back.

  Right before I open the door to leave, I pause. “Remember, Beau,” I say, turning to look at him. “Remember that you are loved.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Opening a door is easy. Opening a mind is hard. That’s the only excuse I can give for what happens today at the villa. It’s the only excuse I have for my own deadly stupidity.

  It starts when the well won’t work, and there’s no water to clean up the breakfast dishes.

  “The generator must be out.” Barbelo throws his dirty gardening gloves on the clean kitchen counter. “Damn it, Lydia! Turn off the sink before the pipes break.”

  “Yes, Barbelo,” she says. “Of course, Barbelo.”

  But Lydia’s not quick enough. Barbelo knocks her in the jaw with his fist. She sits down at the kitchen table, holding her chin, not saying anything until he leaves.

  I get some ice from the freezer and wrap it in a little cloth. Then I press it gently to Lydia’s face.

  “Why do you let him do that?” I ask her. “Why?”

  Lydia doesn’t answer. She rocks back and forth in her seat, holding the compress to her chin.

  “Back in California, you were so powerful.” I picture her standing up to Headmaster Russell. “What happens here, when you get to Nevada?”

  “I’m sorry, Blanca,” Lydia says. “I’m sorry. You don’t know. All the years. My sister.” Lydia isn’t making sense. She’s rambles. Then she reaches in her pocket and takes out the key. “This is a good time,” she says. “I saved some figs for him in the bowl over there.” I think she means for me to go see Beau.

  “Keep the ice on that,” I advise.

  Lydia nods and rises from the chair, one joint at a time. I follow her out of the kitchen.

  It’s been five days now of helping Beau get better. He’s in his right mind again and gaining some weight. Each day he’s growing stronger. I know it.

  And I’m getting stronger too. I’m as strong as I’ve ever been. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

  I feel the heat press into me as we walk down the hallway to Beau’s cell. Whatever stopped the well from pumping must also have affected the cooling system.

  The temperature is becoming unbearable.

  Lydia unlocks the door for me and then sits down on the tiles, her back against the wall. She’s still holding the ice on her chin. I kiss her on the forehead to say thank you, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

  “You’re here again.” Beau smiles as I enter his cell.

  “Of course. I said I would keep coming. Didn’t you believe me?”

  “You also said we would escape.” Beau eyes the food plate and twitches.

  “We will escape.” I hand him the tray. “I promise.”

  “Do you have a plan yet?”

  “Almost. I need to figure out how to get keys for all of the locks.”

  Beau nods, understanding me. “There’re a lot of locks,” he says.

  But it’s not only that. It’s something else too. I’ve been ready to fight Barbelo for a long time. But I’m still not sure what to do about Lydia. I don’t know if I could attack her. I don’t know if I still want to.

  I’d rather Lydia come with us. I’d rather she choose to come with us. If she does want to come, then that’s how we can get out. That’s how we undo the locks.

  I’ve had enough of being locked up.

  “I’ll come back for you,” I say. “I promise.” I’m not sure if Beau believes me or not.

  By the time Barbelo returns from the outside, I’m already in the hallway, scrubbing down Spanish tile. That’s when I see my mistake. That’s when I realize how stupid I’ve been.

  When Barbelo walks through the front door, I realize that the door isn’t even locked. It’s been unlocked, perhaps this whole time.

  The only thing keeping me in this villa is me.

  The air is thick with heat. The cooling system has definitely stopped working, probably a couple of hours ago. Down here on the ground it’s still cool. The Spanish tiles feel cold against my legs as I scrub the floor with a bristle brush. Barbelo stands in front of me, holding a metal wrench. He looks ready to swing at any moment.

  But I’m ready.

  “Damn heat,” he says. “Damn fucking technology.”

  I scrub the floor so hard the wooden brush scrapes my palm. I’m worried about Beau locked up in his cell. The heat is oppressive.

  Lydia comes into the hallway, without her ice. “What’s wrong, Barbelo?”

  “The solar system’s busted.” Barbelo wipes his forehead with a rag. Drops of sweat hit my face.

  “I can fix it.” I set down my brush.

  Barbelo stares at me with eagle eyes. “You?” he asks. “What do you know?”

  “Please, sir,” I say. “Don’t be mad, but my purchaser made me learn all about solar energy systems.”

  Lydia glances at me quickly, surprised by this.

  I wipe my hands on my drawstring pants. “I can fix that solar generator. I’m positive.”

  Barbelo rubs his chin, considering. “What the hell,” he finally says. “It’s either that or I have to go into town.”

  “I could go to town,” offers Lydia. I can tell she doesn’t want me to leave.

  “And get arrested? No, let’s have Blanca climb up there and see what she can do.”

  “Yes, Father. I’ll try, Father,” I say. The chip-watch is in my pocket. As soon as I walk through that oak door, I’ll be connected to the outside world.

  Hopefully somebody out there is waiting for me, looking for my signal.

  With clarity comes responsibility. With knowledge comes action. Up here on the ladder on top of the villa, I see what’s wrong immediately.

  This solar cell system is archaic and easy to decipher. One of the cells is broken, causing a break in the circuit. Slide in a replacement panel, and Beau won’t be in danger from the heat any longer.

  “Well?” Barbelo calls up to me from the gro
und.

  I walk to the edge of the roof. “I can fix this, sir. Do you have an extra panel?”

  “I think there’s one in the shed. I’ll go look.”

  This is my chance, my golden opportunity. I scramble back up the roof and away from Barbelo’s view. I take out the chip-watch and click it to ready.

  “Call Seth,” I say clearly. But there isn’t any answer. There’s only a beeping sound and a robotic voice telling me to leave a message. I’m not even sure how to leave a message. Shoot! More beeping!

  “This is Blanca,” I say. “I’m being held captive in rural Nevada by Barbelo Nemo and Lydia. They’ve got Beau too. They’re responsible for Ethan’s death.” I pause, trying to think of what to say next. What if this is my last chance to talk to them? “Cal and Seth, I’m sorry,” I whisper urgently. “I’m sorry I was so messed up. I’m trying to come home. I’m—”

  I don’t get the chance to say anything else. All I hear is more beeping. What the hell does that mean? So I try something different.

  “Veritas Rex,” I say clearly. “I want Veritas Rex!” I stand up straighter, trying to get a better signal, and the lion-headed cobra springs up from the chip-watch. When I see the few inches of silvery screen, my heart stops.

  There’s a picture of Cal, Seth, and me!

  It was the night of that party, the one where I met all the McNeal Solar people. One of those board members must have snapped my picture after all. There I am in my white dress with a McNeal on each side.

  missing, the headline reads. blanca mcneal. Then underneath that is a message for me, it says—

  But there’s no time to read more. I hear footsteps on the ladder. I look frantically at the buttons. I’m trying to turn off the visual, but I can’t remember how it works. Everything seems foreign. Then before I get the chance to fix things, it’s too late.

  Barbelo stands in front of me, holding the solar cell.

  “So,” he says. “You thought you could trick me.”

  “No,” I answer. “Of course not.”

  “Technology is never the answer, Blanca. You used to know that. Sometimes the simplest ways are best.” Then he sideswipes my leg, tripping me before I know what’s happening.

  Before I get the chance to fight back.

  I slide down the roof, struggling to stop my fall. But I can’t. Solar cells and roof tiles spin around me, evading my every grasp. The adobe walls whip before me, and then there’s nothing. Nothing but white-hot pain.

  I see the dirt first. My vision has doubled, but I can still make out the dust. I feel the dirt smeared across my face. If I concentrate hard enough, maybe I won’t feel the searing pain, splintering into my side. I can barely move my arm, and I think my leg is broken.

  “Blanca,” Barbelo calls. “Come out where I can see you.”

  I hear him coming, perhaps to finish me off. There is no shelter. All around me is dust and the white walls of the villa. So I start dragging myself, right there through the dirt. Maybe if I get to the end of that wall I’ll find freedom. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

  “What’s going on?” I hear a woman asking. It’s Lydia.

  “Blanca fell off the roof.”

  “Oh God! Is she hurt?”

  “Let’s hope so,” Barbelo growls.

  I’m crawling now, up on three limbs, dragging myself away. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

  There’s some sort of orchard up in front of me. I see some garden tools. I see a hoe. I grab it.

  “What are you doing?” Lydia screams. “Why do you need a gun?”

  I’m in the long grass. Curled up under a fruit tree. I’ve got my hand on the hoe, and I’m waiting. I’m waiting to fight.

  “Blanca, dear?” It’s Barbelo, coming my way. “Blanca, come out, girl. We need to talk. I need to tell you something. I need you to know your secret.”

  He can’t see me, hidden. So I wait, hoping that the pain won’t stop me.

  “Your mother, Blanca. Don’t you want to know who she was?” Barbelo’s voice is stronger. He’s closer and closer. “She was a Vestal, like you.”

  “Stop!” Lydia’s here now. “Don’t hurt her!”

  “Shut up, woman!” There’s the sound of flesh hitting together. Then Barbelo’s voice goes soft again. “Your mother, Blanca. Do you want to know the truth?”

  I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

  I see my chance. Barbelo doesn’t see me at all. He’s still looking in the wrong direction, and his ankle is a few feet away. So I take every last bit of strength, and I strike him with the hoe. The sharp metal edge bites into his backside. Then, when he’s down on the ground, I pull myself up to sitting and bash him one more time. I aim for the head, but the hoe hits his shoulder instead.

  That’s how Barbelo still gets the chance. That’s how he shoots me.

  I’m going in and out of consciousness. One instant, I’m looking at the sky, at the white clouds blowing across the blueness; the next, I’m looking at the dirt. Through the grass blades, I see Lydia jump Barbelo and tackle him to the ground.

  “No!” she shouts. “I won’t let you kill her.” They’re wrestling together. They’re struggling over the gun.

  I hear a popping sound and then there’s Lydia.

  “Blanca, baby. Are you okay?” She lifts up my head, cradling it in her hands. The blood from my shoulder stains her skirt. She takes off her scarf and tries to staunch the bleeding.

  “My mother,” I whisper. I have to know. I’ve never cared so much until now.

  “My sister,” she whispers back. “Barbelo harvested my sister.”

  “You’re my aunt?” I ask, my voice fading.

  “I love you so much,” Lydia says. “And I am so sorry. I never should have brought you here. I ruined everything!”

  “No,” I whisper.

  “You’re my daughter now,” Lydia says. “I’m going to help you. I’m going to make it better.” She’s frantic, trying to make me comfortable, trying to stop the bleeding.

  I think I hear something. A buzzing sound coming from the sky.

  “I need you to know the truth,” Lydia says. “Can you forgive me, Blanca?”

  “Yes, Aunt Lydia,” I say. Even though I’m not sure that’s true.

  Lydia smiles at me, but she’s weeping at the same time. Her heart-shaped face seems almost broken. Then I hear another popping sound. And Lydia’s face disappears.

  It explodes right in front of me.

  Never trust a Vestal. We all have secrets. The secrets people don’t find out until after you’re dead are the best kind.

  I’m dying there in the grass. I know it finally. Maybe I’m not a survivor after all. I look up into the sky and see Barbelo Nemo blocking the light, holding a gun. Maybe he really is my father. Maybe Lydia really was my aunt.

  So maybe I didn’t succeed in patricide after all. Maybe I didn’t put up the ultimate fight. But there is more than one way to fight back. Seth was right about that all along. Sometimes the truth is the best weapon.

  Beau knows the truth, because I told him. Vestals aren’t the boss of us. We get to choose.

  Just like Ms. Lydia got to choose. She could have left Beau locked in his cell to cook to death, or she could have released him, right before she came out of the villa.

  Beau stands there now, right behind Barbelo. Beau picks up the hoe and laughs. I see Beau next to the helicopters.

  Right next to Barbelo’s head, hanging crooked from his neck.

  Chapter Twenty

  The lion-headed snake is before me, and it’s all I see. Every last inch of me is covered in pain, so I focus on that snake. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.

  The last time I saw that snake, I was speaking to it on the villa roof. Now I don’t know where I am. All I hear is beeping, and the soft w
hoosh of air-conditioning.

  “Her eyes are open,” I hear someone whisper.

  “Blanca?” somebody asks. Somebody is holding my hand.

  “Call the doctor,” the snake says. It takes me another minute or two before I realize that it’s Seth. He stares at me and wipes his eyes.

  “It was real,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “It was real,” I say again. But I can’t talk anymore because it hurts too much. My throat feels like it’s been ripped to shreds.

  “Get her some water,” Cal says.

  I turn my head and there he is, talking to a nurse. Cal’s face looks older, grayer somehow. But he’s smiling and crying too.

  I’m in a hospital. I can see that now. I look down across the bed, and I’m covered in sheets. Underneath I see bandages and casts. I’m wearing a blue-and-green checked hospital gown. Blue and green.

  “Get it off!” I say hoarsely. I struggle to lift my arm. It’s the only thing that’s not hurting. “Take this off!”

  “They didn’t have white,” Seth says. “I asked. Blanca, I promise I asked.”

  “I’ll call the head nurse.” Cal springs to his feet. “I’ll try again.”

  “No,” I say, fighting to get out the words. “My cuff. Take off my cuff!”

  They both look at me, motionless for a second. Then they say “Yes” at exactly the same time.

  Seth picks up my wrist and struggles to find the nonexistent clasp. “There’s no opening!”

  I’m crying now. I can’t talk and there are tears rolling down my cheeks. I’ll never be free. I’ve come so far, but it still isn’t over. I’ve been sealed for life.

  Cal leans over with a cup of water and a straw. The water tastes good on my throat, like everything might be able to be okay after all.

  “I’ll find help,” Cal says. “We’ll take that cuff off for you right away. You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.” When he leaves the room, I hear Cal blow his nose, hard.

 

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