Trust: The Hero Chronicles (Volume 2)

by Tim Mettey

The house was a lot warmer than the night before. Either the electricity or the generator must have kicked back on. I put my sweatshirt on and headed into the kitchen. Both Riley and Cora’s cheeks and noses were bright red, like they had just been outside.

  “I see the power came back on,” I said.

  “Riley got the generator working again. We went out to see what was wrong. A tree limb had somehow knocked the cord running to our house out of the socket. So Riley hooked it back up.” Cora looked very pleased. I was too. The warmth was nice.

  “So, what does it look like out there? The front window is entirely frosted over.”

  “It looks like a tornado went through, trees down everywhere,” Riley said. “We’re lucky none of them hit your house last night. There is at least a foot and a half of snow. The wind has died down, but the intense wind created drifts as tall as me. It may be calm now, but we’re supposed to get another round of wind and snow later. It’s supposed to get nastier than it was last night. At least, that’s what they’re saying this morning on the TV.”

  I grabbed a bagel and went back to the family room. The weather radio was sitting on the coffee table. I gave it a couple of cranks and it came to life. I sat down on the ledge in front of the window that looked out to the street. The radio whistled and began its emergency weather statement. “This is an all-weather radio alert broadcasting out of St. Louis. A blizzard warning remains in effect until 3:00 p.m. Monday for the following counties . . .” It listed dozens of counties including ours, and then continued with its message. “A second round of winds will gust up to 60 miles per hour, making visibility near zero. An additional six to eight inches of accumulation is possible by Monday morning.” Then the automated message started over. I turned it down and peered out the window. I had wiped off most of the frost so I could see out. Every once in a while, I could see flashing yellow lights from snow plows that were trying to keep up with the snow. But from the look of it, they weren’t having much luck.

  Genevieve came out and sat across from me on the window ledge. She pulled the cover that I was using onto her. Her legs were intertwined with mine but we weren’t touching. Our bodies were facing each other, but we were both looking out at the snow. I was uncomfortable with how she made me feel. I pulled my legs up to my chest and put my arms around them. I didn’t want this path that Genevieve and I were on to go any further. As natural as it was being with her, I didn’t feel that way about her, even though our connection was undoubtedly strong. Elle was still the love of my life, the one who owned my heart.

  Some snow started to fall again and the flakes were as big as quarters. “Genevieve, what happened to you the day of the earthquake?” I figured as close as we were right now, this would be the best time for me to find out how she got to this point in her life. She took a deep breath and turned to look at me.

  “First, let me show you something.” She turned around and pulled her shirt up, exposing her naked back to me. I looked away.

  “Nicholas, I know you are shielding your eyes, but I need you to look at my back. Don’t worry, that’s all you’ll see.”

  I slowly looked toward her. On her back were three jagged circles from her left shoulder blade down to her shorts. Something compelled me to reach out and touch them. I felt each one of them, not sure what they were. I knew they were scars of some sort. Then, to my horror, I realized that they were bullet holes. I pulled away. She put her shirt back down and turned to face me. Her eyes were clouded with tears.

  “When I was nine years old, my father died while trying to help a woman being mugged. He ran over to stop her attacker and was shot in the process. It was his Final Sacrifice, but neither he nor my mom knew anything about the Thusians and the sacrifice. All of our family and friends were devastated by his death. He was the glue that held our family together. We lived in a nice house just outside New York City. We had lots of friends to help us, but as time went on, my mom began to spiral out of control into a deep, dark depression.

  “She started to drink a lot. It was understandable, because many nights she would cry herself to sleep, calling out for my dad. She said the alcohol helped numb the pain. But after a while, that wasn’t enough. She started to take drugs. Slowly she began to spend all of the money that she and my dad had saved over the years. It was what we were supposed to live on for the rest of our lives, and she spent it all. So she sold our home and we moved into a really bad part of town. It was a slum. We managed to get by for years, but her drug use was now out in the open. Many nights she would come home stoned, not knowing where she was, or she wouldn’t even come home at all. A couple of nights I had to call friends to help get her to the emergency room because she didn’t look like she was going to make it. It got so bad that she began to buy the drugs right in front of us.”

  Us? Who else was in her family? Then she answered my question.

  “One horrible night—the night I discovered my talents—my younger sister Ashlyn and I were sitting in the back seat of our car with my mom up in front. A man wearing a long, dark green jacket came to the passenger-side window and knocked. I always distracted my sister from what my mom was doing, so I could protect her from seeing all of the stuff that my mom was exposing us to. Ashlyn knew what she was doing, but she welcomed the distraction. My mom got out to talk to the man. She was only out there for a minute, then came back around, got in and started the car. The man yelled something and pointed a gun at our car. Then I heard the shots. That was the first time things slowed down for me. I turned my back to him, shielding my little sister. When I was sure she was protected, time resumed. I felt the three bullets hit me. It felt like I was punched in the back with fire, sending pain radiating into all parts of my body. My mother was killed by the man’s gunfire, which was probably for the best, because it wasn’t going to be long before she killed herself anyway. But Ashlyn saw Mom lying slumped over in the front seat covered in blood. She became catatonic, unable to speak from that day on. No matter how hard I tried to protect her, she still got hurt. She was taken with me to the hospital. The doctors were stunned to see how the bullets only went half an inch into my back and then stopped. They said it was a miracle and that the bullets must have gone through the car door and struck me after slowing down.”

  Genevieve sighed and continued. “I recovered in two weeks. Ashlyn was placed with my grandma, my dad’s mom. Riley showed up right when I was supposed to be released to go live with my grandma. He told me why the bullets didn’t kill me and how my main physical talent had to be shielding. He then explained everything to me, about who we are and about how we had to find you. I left the hospital with him that very night to start searching for you, leaving my sister behind. I figured that Ashlyn would be better off not being around me with the possibility of those Seekers coming to look for me. With my name being in the paper for miraculously surviving the shooting, they would definitely come looking.” She began to cry. I had never seen her like this. She was so vulnerable and delicate, like a flower. She laid her head down on her knees, which she had pulled up to her chest.

  “I miss Ashlyn,” she said, crying. I leaned forward. I put my hands on her legs to comfort her and to let her know that I was there for her.

  I sat in disbelief, because this callous, stubborn, arrogant woman was actually caring, loving and self-sacrificing. She was an incredible person who had been through a lot. I was so wrong about her. Her rough exterior was an act. This made me see her in an entirely different light.

  “I left with Riley when I was 13, Nicholas. I know I shouldn’t have left with a complete stranger, but I did.”

  “That makes you only 19,” I said in shock. She looked like she was in her late twenties. The way she carried herself made her seem so much older.

  “I’m actually 20. My birthday was in December. So I’m only three years older than you. You know how we all have a different reason to fight? Ashlyn is my reason. I want her to have a normal life and to never hear the word ‘Thusian.’ I don’t want
her to be hunted the way I am. I will do everything in my power to make sure that happens.”

  I was becoming overwhelmed with the amount of compassion I was feeling for her. The connection between us was real. I didn’t feel uncomfortable any longer about us being close. I grabbed her and turned her around, pulling her back against my chest and I put my arms around her. Her body shook and she began to cry harder. I held her as tightly as I could to let her know that I was there for her.

  After a half hour or so she leaned away from me and turned around. “Nicholas, I am so sorry for what happened to you. I know how much you love Elle. I was jealous of that love because of my feelings for you.”

  She had feelings for me?

  “I followed you to her house the night of the dance to make sure everything was okay. I saw what happened. As great as the dance was with you, I wish I could take it all back. I saw what you went through. It was agonizing. I was right by your truck experiencing all of your pain, as if I were the one going through it myself. I wanted to comfort you, but I couldn’t. I had to leave because the pain was too overwhelming. You didn’t deserve that. You are an amazing person. I am sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stay with you and comfort you like you are doing for me now.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Her story was so emotional that it was easy to become upset again.

  She turned around and pulled me into her arms, kissing me on the cheek, whispering, “Everything will be okay, I promise, everything will be okay.”

  We stared out the window for a long time, watching the light snow. That’s when Riley and Cora came in.

  “We need to go check on Bryce and Elle to make sure they are okay before the storm intensifies again. The road looks clear enough for our two trucks to make it. We should go in pairs,” Riley said.

  “Genevieve and I will go to Elle’s,” I said, without checking with her.