by Sarah Noffke
Swiftly he sets the lantern on the ground, not taking his eyes off me. Then he engulfs me in his arms and I allow some of my bodyweight to sink against him. He pulls back, but still holds me up. “If that other person is you, then absolutely.”
***
“I knew that was my father’s eventual plan, but I never thought he’d figure out how to do it,” Rogue says. I told him all about tonight’s announcement and my escape from conversion as I washed my face, hair, and feet using a bucket of water he had.
“You can come in,” I say, unzipping the tent and tossing my dirty shirt out. Rogue had given me one of his shirts. I had to roll up the red and blue flannel sleeves several times to make it work, but it’s warm and clean and that’s what counts. Rogue ducks into the tent and I slide back to make room for him. He’s carrying a first-aid kit. I eye it and then him. The light from the lantern isn’t bright enough for me to see his eyes well, but I see the sly smile he’s wearing, seems to always be wearing.
“I’m fine, Rogue,” I say, scooching back to the far corner of the tent, which still doesn’t put much space between us.
“Oh, no you’re not.” His eyes are pinned on my feet and legs, which I’m having a hard time hiding while still being modest in my torn skirt. “I’m playing doctor, so get over here.”
I roll my eyes, shake my head, but don’t move when he approaches. Without asking permission he goes to work cleaning the cuts on my feet and legs with an alcohol swab. Just the smell of the astringent makes me cringe, reminding me of the injections.
“How did you know what your father was planning?” I ask, watching him work.
“It’s how I found out about the injections. I knew something was wrong, so just like you, I snuck into my father’s office. He showed up with a few of his council members and I had to hide,” he says, wrapping a bandage on my foot and then slipping one of his clean socks over it. He’s so much stronger than he was a few years ago, but also more gentle. Tamed somehow. “The Council were discussing their master plan. The injections. The Middlings and testing on their children. And the conversion. This was before I left, several years ago, so the conversion wasn’t something they thought was gonna work.”
“Your father didn’t sense you in his office?” I ask, thinking of how heightened my senses had been when I was leeching him.
Rogue flips his head up, a look of surprise on his face. “You know about his gift? How? No one does.”
A smile spreads across my face. “I experienced his gift firsthand.”
I explain what Ren told me about leeches and how I am one.
“You have to show me this. I want you to leech me,” Rogue says, moving onto my other foot.
I laugh and shake my head. “I had two injections today. My gift won’t come back until tomorrow probably.”
“Well, as soon as it does,” Rogue says, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.
“Your father knows you’re alive. Knows you’re hiding in the Valley.”
Rogue nods, his eyes trained on the scratches on my legs. “Yeah, I know. You asked if my father sensed me in his office? Well, he did, but not at first, only after the Council members left. I thought he was gonna murder me right there. Somehow I slipped past him and ran. I didn’t stop running, not until I was outside the Northern border,” he says as he dabs ointment on a scratch along my leg.
I open my mouth, a volley of sympathies wanting to come out, but I remain silent. Finally I just shake my head. I’ve been as betrayed by my father as Rogue was by his, and still I don’t know how to respond. I guess I’m unsure how I feel about it. Soon it will hit me.
“So I kissed you,” Rogue says, flicking his eyes up to mine.
I immediately look away. “I remember,” I say without inflection.
“Are you mad about it?” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Why would I be?”
“Because we’re friends and—”
“No, we were friends and then you died,” I say, giving him a mock scowl.
He smirks and shuffles forward until he’s beside me. “I assure you, I’m very much alive.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe you aren’t. Maybe another of my gifts is I can see ghosts,” I joke.
He brushes my hair out of my face, tips my chin sideways, and inspects the many scratches on my cheek. “Do I feel like a ghost?” he finally says.
No, he feels the opposite of a ghost. He’s warm, full of life.
I can’t help but to suck in a sharp breath when the alcohol pad slides across my cheekbone. “You really seem to know what you’re doing,” I say, keeping still so Rogue can finish with my face and finally release me from this torture.
“Well, I’ve become pretty self-sufficient over the years.”
“Yeah, I guess you had to,” I say, thinking about all that I still don’t know about him.
“So you and I are fugitives. Us against the Reverians,” he says a lightness in his voice.
“Yeah,” I say, feeling heavy. Then it really hits me like a storm cloud. I’ve left everything I’ve ever known or had behind. I can never go back. Not really. I’ll get Nona out, but there will be no more late-night chats with Tutu or pastries from Giorgio or afternoons working beside Dean. I’ve emancipated myself but I don’t feel free. I feel scared. Nervous. Intimidated.
“Em?” Rogue says, pulling my attention out of my thoughts.
“Yes.”
He looks suddenly serious. “The headaches are gonna come on after the injections wear off. Remember to focus on your breath. Don’t hold it. And know the pain will be gone soon.”
The headaches. I’d forgotten. The thought of having an attack like I witnessed Rogue have is terrifying, but not more so than the idea of being converted. “Okay.”
“Oh, and I’ll be right here when they do,” he says.
I smile at him. “Well, we just have to get the meds. Zack’s trying to find an inventory list for the labs. That should tell us where they’re kept. But we shouldn’t break into the lab until my gift comes back.”
“Yes, I agree,” Rogue says, stretching out beside me. He’s easily the length of the tent, but there’s still plenty of room for the both of us since I’m small. “And how do you suppose we occupy our time until then?” He folds his arms and tucks them behind his head, giving me a sideways smile.
I lay back, slipping one of the pillows he gave me under my head. My muscles are already starting to fatigue from the run. “Rogue, have you ever been to Amsterdam?”
He squints at me, like he wasn’t expecting that question. “Of course.”
“Well, I haven’t. I’ve never dream traveled without supervision. Never had the free rein to explore like I want to.”
A smile lights up his eyes as he stares at the ceiling of the tent. “Oh, yes, the first time is indeed the best.”
“Would you take me around Amsterdam tonight?” I ask, feeling a little shy with the question.
He slides his gaze toward me and then back. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Is it safe to dream travel tonight? Do you think our bodies will be safe here?”
“It will be fine,” Rogue says, all confidence.
“What about your father? Do you think he could track me?”
“He could, but a) I don’t think he’ll have the inclination, and b) there’s no way he’s finding you here,” he says, pushing his messy hair back.
“What makes you so sure?” I ask.
“My father will think this is a bear’s den.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because I doused the perimeter with bear urine,” he says.
“Won’t that attract bears?”
“I’m less afraid of bears than my father.”
“True,” I say, impressed at how crafty Rogue has gotten.
He closes his eyes and a mischievous smile graces his lips. “Find me in De Wallen in Amsterdam. I’ll see you in a few.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
�
�You took me to the Red Light District?” I say in shock as soon as I find Rogue. He’s leaning both his elbows on a bridge and staring out over the canal, a beautiful nonchalance in his stance.
“Well, you’re the rebel who picked this liberal city. And this is actually the most beautiful part of Amsterdam in my opinion,” he says, staring at the arched rooftops. “Most people judge it only on its promiscuous aspects, but if you look closer you’ll find some real beauty.”
I eye a tall brunette who’s standing in a display window. She’s wearing a thong and a bra and changing her provocative pose as each new prospective customer strolls by. “Yeah, real beauty.” I stare at her, something I’d never do in person, but those who aren’t dream traveling can’t see those who are. We exist in the same world, different dimension.
Rogue offers me his arm. “How about a tour of this fine district?”
I eye his arm and then the multiple shops behind him, all lit with dim red lights and their merchandise prancing around in the doorways or windows. “When I said ‘Amsterdam’ I was more thinking a museum or a historical center.”
“You don’t get any more historical than this,” Rogue says, taking it upon himself to thread his arm through mine and tug me to the end of the bridge and along the canal. “Some of the architecture here is from the fourteenth century.”
He directs me down a cobbled side street. The buildings lean at strange angles, giving them a unique charm. It’s undeniably an atmosphere of openness, which entices my caged curiosity. Before too long, I’ve forgotten my initial anger and find we’re easily strolling the streets. I mostly take in the sights and Rogue seems to be amused by my interest in the happenings around me.
“Do you have any questions about the city?” he finally asks.
“Not about the city,” I say, sweeping my eyes over the strange street we just walked past.
“Oh, so you have questions about other things. I should have guessed. Fire away, babe,” he says coolly.
“What are your dogs named?” I ask. The idea of having pets intrigues me. We’re not allowed to have them in Austin Valley. Animals are kept at the ranch, but that’s run by Middlings.
“The Lab is Poseidon, because I can’t keep him out of the creek, and the shepherd is Athena.”
“Oh, is the cow named after a Greek god too?”
“I call her ‘A-lot-a-work,’” he says.
I laugh. “Are they all right while you’re gone?”
“I’ve checked on them a few times while dream traveling. They’re fine.”
I slip out of his arm and approach the canal. I’ve always wondered... I tip over the surface of the water and watch for my reflection. It doesn’t shimmer there like it would if I was in physical form. I turn around and smile at Rogue, happy to have another question in my mind answered.
The look on his face is pure amusement, like he’s watching an alien explore Earth for the first time. “So, what’s your plan, Em? Now that you’re a deserter?”
“First, I’m going to break into the lab and get us meds,” I say. “Then I’m going to get Nona out. We’ll figure out what to do next after that.”
He nods, a quiet smile in his eyes. “It would be pretty easy to build an extra room or two onto my house. Might give you a place to start or stay depending on what you decide.”
I can’t hide the look that makes my face lengthen with surprise and astonishment. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Thank you,” I say, totally sheepishly. “That’s so kind of—”
“I’d be doing it for purely selfish reasons, of course,” he says, his dimple surfacing with his smile.
“Oh…really?” I say, not able to bring my eyes to his all of a sudden.
“Well, yeah. I need farmhands.”
I laugh, grateful for his joke, which instantly breaks up the budding tension. “Do you have a garden at this house of yours?”
Another nod. “Caterpillars are a problem this year.”
“Yeah, we had a problem with them too at the farm. Dean and I concocted a pepper spray solution that really works,” I say.
“You still spend your free hours at the farm, huh?”
“Where else would I?”
“It’s summertime, Em. Last one before you’re assigned an occupation. Most take advantage of that last bit of freedom,” Rogue says.
“Well, I think there’s no better way to spend my freedom. And I won’t ever be assigned an occupation...well, unless they catch me.”
Rogue shakes his head sharply. “They won’t find you. Convert you. Don’t worry.”
His short sentences are incredibly effective at erasing my worry. “Zack does the same as me. He spends all his free time at the Government Center. He’s interning under my father.”
Rogue whistles, his eyes lighting up. “Now there’s a guy, under the right circumstances, who could make some real changes. Something great lives in Zack, something that could start a revolution.”
“That’s what I tell him.”
Rogue shakes his head, his unkempt hair falling on his forehead. “It used to burn me up inside that you two were there living your lives together and I was on the outside.”
I halt. Wait for him to turn around. His face unreadable. “Then I really don’t understand why you didn’t contact me. At least tell me that you were alive? Tell me the truth before now?”
He nods, seeming to understand my plight. “I didn’t want to risk getting you in trouble. And I pictured you were happy in Austin Valley and I didn’t want to ruin that. But like I said, I also assumed you and Zack were getting closer and that made me jealous for some reason. Now that I see that you did, it actually makes me happy.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “’Cause you needed each other.”
“Well, I need Zack, but he’s probably fine without me.”
“I doubt that,” Rogue says.
I look up as we walk, enjoying the way flowers overflow from planters on various second-story windows. And under my feet the streets are as clean as we keep ours in Austin Valley, but the vibe is the opposite. We’ve walked to a part of the district that appears a little more innocent than where we started. And I realize I didn’t mind it so much back there. It was fascinating for my eyes to take in such a bizarre scene, one I’d only overheard a Middling transplant speak about once. Unfortunately, my education in cultures and geography is limited, but that’s all about to change.
My inquisitive eyes continue roaming over all the details around me when I realize Rogue is staring at me. “What?” I ask, suddenly a little self-conscious.
He stops and I turn around and watch him study me, a curious look in his eyes. “Nothing. Just marveling at how you’re still so inquisitive.”
“Oh, did you expect that to change?” I ask.
“Not sure what I expected.”
I continue to walk and then I stop, a weird uninvited worry creeping into my head. “When you said Nona and I could stay with you…”
He stops, regards me a bit cautiously. “Yes?”
“Well, do you have other people living with you?”
He laughs. “Do you think I’m shacking up with someone? That I have a family or something?”
“I don’t know,” I say, embarrassment tightening around my insides.
“Well, I don’t. I live alone,” Rogue says.
“And you always have?”
He gives me a sideways look. Squints at me. “Yes. Why?”
“Just figured...”
“What? That I go around kissing girls and offering to have them live with me?”
“Well, maybe.”
He laughs, one so loud and genuine, it actually breaks up the tension building in my chest. “Well, I don’t. I spent the last four years alone. Hard to explain to people where I’m from and about my condition.”
“Oh,” I say, not having moved.
He slips his hands into his faded blue jean pockets, almost looking a little nervous, alth
ough that would be a first for him. “And I spent a lot of those years thinking about you.”
“Me?” I squeak out.
“Yes, you,” he says, chuckling. “You know, right before I ran away, I was gonna ask you on a date. A real one. Not a playdate and not with Zack tagging along.”
I would have been twelve. He would have been thirteen. I clench my eyes together and bury my face in my hands, giggling.
“Are you laughing at me?” Rogue asks with a smile in his voice.
“Yes,” I say, pulling my hands away to catch the amused look on his face. “I mean no. I’m mostly laughing because the idea would have been preposterous to me. I would have said no.”
“Because you had a crush on Zack?”
“No!” I say in embarrassment.
He threads his strong arms across his chest and gives me a challenging look. “Oh, come on, you’ve always favored him in that way. It was kind of obvious. And that’s another reason I never came back and all. I figured you two matched up. Kind of surprised that you didn’t.”
I shake my head at how adorably interesting all these insights are. “Well, maybe I did long ago—favor him—but after you ‘died,’” I say, using air quotes with my fingers, “we bonded more, but only as friends. And that’s what we needed.”
He nods. “Sorry my bogus death hurt you two so much. If things could have been diff—”
“Your father tried to kill you.” I step forward and grab his hand. Squeeze it. It’s so much bigger than mine. “Don’t apologize for doing what you had to to survive. I get it now.”
He eyes my hand in his. “Why would you have turned me down all those years ago?”
“Because my father wouldn’t have allowed it. You’re the President’s son. He encouraged our friendship, instigated it originally, but always warned me to be nice to you. Not to create any friction that might harm his position with the President.”
“I see you disobeyed your father even then. You were never nice to me,” Rogue says with a grin.
I smile. Nod. “Well, so I’d have turned you down because if things went poorly between us then it could have negatively affected my father.”