by Tonya Kuper
Dear Loki.
I was questioning everything. My nerves were literally being fried, and I was already experiencing increased frequency of symptoms. Not only was my life unstable, but my mind was, too.
I squeezed my eyes tight, trying not to let tears slip between my lids.
I didn’t want to leave them, but I had to. And I had to do it tonight.
A whimper escaped from me, and I turned my face into the fluffy pillow to stifle the sound.
Aware I’d fall asleep if I didn’t open my eyes that instant, I kept them shut and relaxed my body into the mattress, welcoming the break from the world.
Reid
Something was wrong. Josie was keeping something from me. Her demeanor and body language had changed in a matter of seconds. She’d backed away from me like she was scared.
I hustled down the hallway back toward the training room we’d just left. I could’ve taken a nap like Josie, but I needed to work off tension. The workout room usually provided me some stress relief.
Something Josie saw had gotten to her. Even the way she looked at me changed over the span of minutes. We were our normal selves—or as normal as we could be—then she looked petrified. She wouldn’t look at me on the way to her room, which was fine, but she seemed to be going out of her way to avoid my eyes. That wasn’t her usual. Right before entering her place, she’d glanced at me. Her face had shifted from dark fear to sorrow. Her eyes pulled up in sympathy, or maybe apology. I wasn’t sure. But whatever was wrong, whatever that look was in her eyes, that sadness was enough to make me worry. She didn’t have to tell me everything, but it seemed she was suddenly keeping something from me intentionally. My worry teetered on the edge of fear. If we weren’t honest with each other, we could nose-dive into a dangerous situation.
I busted through the door to the empty mini gym. With the blink of my eyes and barely a thought, I Pushed and basketball shorts took the place of my clothes. No shirt. Nikes replaced my boots. Black boxing gloves appeared on my hands.
The warm room held standard exercise equipment but wasn’t large, since a lot of the Hub’s residents got unconventional workouts through practice in the larger training rooms. Just by looking at the room no one could guess that it was housed in the middle of a mountain. Treadmills and stairmills took up one corner. Free weights lined the front mirrored wall. I beelined for the punching bags.
Rotating my arms in circles frontward and backward, I tried to loosen up my shoulders. Like Josie, and many others, my tension settled in my upper body. I glanced at the stereo system in the corner, Pushed, and Linkin Park blasted from the speakers.
My fist slammed into the punching bag, making it jerk slightly. That felt good. I swung the other fist and a tiny thrill wriggled in my back. Dancing on the balls of my feet, I started a sequence of jabs and kicks Santos and I used to use in workouts.
With every punch and kick, I felt better. On my toes, twisting, ducking, hitting. Adrenaline flooded my body, along with endorphins. I was jolted to life by the feel-good natural chemicals, yet it eased my nerves.
I planted my back foot for a series of alternating high roundhouse kicks. I’d be sore the next day, but it was a good hurt. I liked the feeling of muscle fatigue and soreness. The resulting pain was a sign that my muscles were literally healing, growing, getting stronger.
That idea had always fascinated me. Our own bodies were proof that we had to be challenged, we had to work hard, and even torn down to a certain degree sometimes, in order to come back stronger.
After twenty minutes, sweat covered my upper body in a sheen. Drops of perspiration plunged off my brows and trickled into my eyes. Time for a break.
I Retracted my gloves, Pushed a bottle of Gatorade into my hand, and chugged until it was empty. Letting it drop to the floor, the sound of the plastic bottle echoed through the room, barely audible over the heavy beats emitting from the speakers.
I snagged a white hand towel and wiped my face, my breathing still ragged. I rested my hands on my hips to catch my breath before I started another round. Slow inhale, slow exhale.
I pulled my arms overhead, let my hands join, and let them fall toward my back to stretch my triceps. Pivoting, I raised my sights to the mirror at the front of the room and behind the punching bag. Sweat beaded on my red face.
A figure moved in front of the window on the door to the hallway. I waved to make sure they knew they could come in; I didn’t need privacy to workout.
I watched as the person stepped closer to the window in the door. A familiar face. Santos. Santos stared back at me. Shock immobilized me and my stomach lurched.
It can’t be Santos. He’s dead. I have to be hallucinating.
I squeezed my eyes then blinked repeatedly. His lips slowly pulled into a menacing grin. It’s not you.
As I rushed to the door to face him head-on, he winked, and walked away. There was no hesitation. I swung the door open, ready to tackle, but I ran into a woman who was passing by at the wrong time. She knocked into a man approaching from the opposite direction and all three of us stumbled into each other.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I asked them both.
I tried to help the woman get her footing, but she waved me off. “I’m fine.” The man, who I recognized from the garage, held her steady. With hardly a glance at me, she hightailed it down the hall. The guy continued on his path in the opposite direction.
No Santos in sight.
I wiped sweat from my forehead.
I usually trusted my gut and my gut said I was being duped. It wasn’t Santos. That was the mole. The mole was playing with me.
My fists balled and white heat snapped up my spine. Why hadn’t I done something? I could’ve done something to capture him, to kill him. I now had a pretty good guess at what happened to Josie earlier. She was probably scared because she saw someone, probably Santos.
I sprinted to Josie’s room. Coe was standing in front of her door with his gun drawn, looking my direction.
“It’s me, man.” I gave him the salute. “I just saw Santos.”
“Santos is dead.”
“Exactly.”
He holstered his firearm. “Well, that’s cause for concern. Either we have ghosts, zombies, or a mole.”
“Yeah, I need to talk to her.”
He opened the door. “I’ll stand by until you give me the go-ahead to leave.”
“Thanks, man,” I said over my shoulder as I hurried through her apartment. No lights were on but a glow emanated from her room.
Josie lay in bed and twisted around to look at me in the doorway to her room. She rubbed her eyes, rocking major bed head. “What?” Her voice croaked. She had clearly been asleep.
I moved to her bedside. She looked at me, from head to toe. Suddenly, she sat up.
“What’s wrong? And where’s your shirt?” Her cheeks darkened. “Wait. How do I know this is you?” Her heels dug into the mattress as she scooted closer to the headboard and farther away from me.
We didn’t have time for this, but I completely understood why she’d need the reassurance. Especially now, after I’d seen someone who was dead and Eli had been impersonated. “Uh. Okay.” I signaled the one index finger to her.
She continued to stare at me, expressionless. I needed something more convincing. “Okay. The first night I met you—or, uh, re-met you as Reid—we took a ride on my motorcycle to a park. You thought I was a creeper until some Consortium jack-ball tried killing you. Then later that night, I crawled through your window because you were, understandably, scared. And you’d Pushed a boulder in your room as big as Mount Rushmore.”
She nodded but didn’t seem entirely sold. I needed something more specific.
I crouched next to the bed. “Last night I took you to one of my childhood hiding places. No one had seen it besides you. And my mom.”
Josie let out a rush of air. “Reid. Here, sit.” She scooted against the headboard to give me room.
I couldn’t sit. I w
as too revved. Shaking my head, I leaned toward her. “You need to tell me what you saw earlier. Was it Santos?” My heartrate was still in the “turbo” range.
Her entire face contorted in confusion. “Santos? Santos is dead.”
I straightened up and ran my hand over my sweaty forehead. “Yeah, no shit. But I just saw him.”
Josie’s eyes nearly bugged out of head. “What?”
“Josie, what did you see? What scared you?” She stiffened. “I could see it in your eyes. I heard it in what you weren’t telling me. You’re behavior changed in a matter of seconds. You didn’t want to tell me.”
Josie let her gaze drop. How was I supposed to take that? Was I reading her wrong, the situation wrong?
“Josie?” She didn’t look at me, she didn’t move a muscle. I squatted next to the bed, placing my hand on her knee, and tried to peek at her face. “Josie, please. Please talk to me.”
I waited for her to speak. The warmth from Josie’s hand gently enveloping mine spread through me, helping to calm my heart and my brain which were stuck in overdrive.
Finally, her head lifted. Her hand closed tighter around mine, and she tugged me toward her. I answered her silent request by sitting on the bed facing her.
“I saw you earlier.”
Of course she did. “Uh, yeah.”
Her head shook quickly. “No. I saw two of you at the same time.” Her jaw fell open for a few seconds as she tried to find her thoughts and words. She was seriously distraught. “You were in front of me in the training room doorway. And, simultaneously, you were at the end of the hallway, going into the bathroom and infirmary entrance.”
“That wasn’t me in the hallway. I was with you. You know that, right?”
Josie didn’t answer but shrugged.
“That was the mole in the hallway. This is me.” I plucked her hand out of her lap and placed in on my chest. “I’m real. Okay?”
“I’m not sure what’s real anymore. I think maybe—” Her voice broke. “I’m not even sure if I saw that person, the other you at the end of the hallway. Because of the Force Push, then practicing blindfolded, I think my mental stability is wavering. I, uh, I might be experiencing symptoms. You know, like my brother.” Her eyes closed. “I think my brain—”
Nonsense. She wasn’t experiencing Oculi Degradation.
I leaned closer, tucked a crazy piece of hair behind her ear, and cradled her cheek. “No. This is not Degradation.” Her eyes opened. “This is the mole being disgusting, playing with both of us, taunting us. Trying to make you do exactly what you’re doing now—doubting yourself. I was meant to doubt myself, too, when I saw Santos.”
“But I—”
“No. Your mental state is on point. So is mine. You saw what happened this afternoon, right? You shut me out, isolated yourself. I went to the gym and punched shit because I didn’t know what was wrong. The mole just played us both and we reacted exactly the way he wanted us to.”
“I’m scared to death that I’m losing my mind. This is all… It’s just too much.”
Leaning closer, I placed a hand on each of her cheeks. She placed her hands on top of mine, maintaining eye contact. “Your brain is magnificent and it’s healthy,” I whispered. “Do you hear me?” Her chin tipped downward once. “The mole wanted us both to doubt ourselves and each other. He wanted to separate us. We won’t let him, though. We’re stronger together. And we aren’t going to doubt again. Self-doubt is natural, but it steals motivation. We don’t have time for that.”
Shifting forward, she let her forehead rest against mine. “I was going to—” She cleared her throat. “I was going to take care of the mole myself then leave. I don’t want my family and you watching me deteriorate before your eyes. I don’t want to be a burden. You’ve already had to do that with Nick.”
My stomach twisted, and I pulled away to clearly see her face, which was now crinkled into a full-out cry. The thought of her leaving, being alone, was enough to make me sick. “You are fine and will never have to be alone. Not as long as I’m alive. And you are a dream, the best thing that’s happened to me, not a burden. You never will be. Well, a pain in the ass, yes, but not a burden.”
That got me a smile.
I pulled her hands into mine. “I promise you, I’ll be by your side until the end. We’ll get through this together.”
She nodded and her lips tightened into a smile. “Together.”
I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Want to sleep more?”
“I think I need it.”
“Can I stay and sleep?” I hadn’t realized until earlier when she was acting weird toward me, pushing me away, how much I needed her for myself. It wasn’t a feeling of rejection and pride being hurt, but more of me really needing her as a partner and as an anchor.
“Please do.”
The bedside lamp shined into the side of her eye, making her iris a lighter shade of green and illuminating the scant sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her hair gleamed fiery in this lighting. She reminded me of an illustration, an angel or fairy, glowing from within.
I stared at her for so long she was going to get creeped out. I smiled and stood. I Pushed my phone into my hand and texted Cohen: We’re good. I’m going to catch some sleep with J. Inform Dad of my sighting?
He responded immediately: Got it. Rest.
Josie pulled the blanket down on the bed. “So, um, you never said. Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“Oh,” I glanced down at my bare torso. “I was working out. I’ll shower. Don’t worry, though. I know you can’t take your eyes off me, so I’ll be fast.”
She rolled her eyes and was still giggling when I shut the bathroom door. I showered in record time.
When I returned to the room, Josie lay under the covers with her eyes closed. I placed my phone on the nightstand, shut the lamp off, and sat next to her, trying not to jar the bed too much. My feet slipped between the cool sheets and I turned to face Josie.
Her warm hand slid up my stomach to my chest. “Hey,” she whispered. “Thank you for staying with me tonight and for being my partner in this.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” I swept my finger along her arm up to her shoulder and down along the outside of her waist. My hand rested perfectly on her waist. “I’m honored you let me.”
She pressed her lips to mine, firm and brief, then tucked her head into my chest. “Thank you, too, for not putting on a shirt.” Her hand ran over my chest again.
“I knew you couldn’t resist this.” We both quietly laughed. I kissed the top of her head. “Sleep well. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Josie snuggled closer and fell asleep fast, her body moving in rhythm with her deep, slow breaths. I was dead tired but my mind couldn’t shut off for quite a while. She was going to put her life on the line, which meant I was, too. That’s what someone did when they loved someone.
14.
Reid
Josie and I slept forever. We’d laid down about five thirty in the evening and didn’t wake until the next morning.
The day went quickly, since five of us were in the training rooms all morning. We practiced with weapons, used the virtual training system, worked on Josie’s Force Push, and she even nailed Pushing a few things with her eyes closed. It wasn’t all hunky-dory. We were all tense and Josie got plenty frustrated. After lunch, we had another Force Pushing session, then logged into and practiced on a private messaging group on our phones that Kat had created. For the rest of the day we’d communicate through a secured group chat. The five of us plus my dad were included.
Josie hung with Eli and her mom for a while before she and I took naps, knowing we’d likely not get much, if any, sleep that night.
After we napped, Kat texted asking if someone could keep watch in the hallway so she and Josie could hang a little. She thought it would be nice for Josie to have some “normal” time, which was cool of Kat. Zac said he’d stand guard so I could spend a few minutes with my dad.
Dad and I didn’t have time to go into detail about where he’d been undercover, but we got everything ironed out for the trap later that night. The short amount of time with him was still satisfying, though. I mean, he was alive.
It was show time. I turned toward the Pub Hub and was happy to see it was full. More people could hear and possibly spread word to the mole about my and Cohen’s fake spat. Weaving through the tables, I headed to the pool room in the back of the restaurant. I saw a flash of red.
Josie’s reddish hair was my personal beacon. She was the person who made me feel the most like myself, like I didn’t have to meet set expectations and could just be me. She seemed to guide me back to the shore, back to who I really was.
I watched her laugh with Kat, sipping on a drink. Soft curls cascaded down her back, and a tank hugged her curves.
Kat said something to Josie, and she glanced over her shoulder to me. I nonchalantly raised a hand.
“Reid!” Cohen yelled. “You can join in a minute when I’m done schooling Zac.” I knocked my fist to his. Taking a seat on a stool, I leaned against the bar.
“Hey, now!” Zac hit the cue ball and it sailed past the five ball, his target. “While you guys did this in your spare time, I was forced into cotillions and country club sports.”
Cohen clasped Zac’s shoulder as he passed him. “Naw, you’re fine.”
“For a fifth grader,” Chase said from the doorway in a Call of Duty shirt. We hadn’t seen Chase since he met Josie her first night in the Hub while checking out the virtual training room.
I couldn’t help my exaggerated laugh, but it earned me a glare from Zac.
The eight ball clanked into the corner pocket, and Cohen raised his hands in victory. “Get wrecked! Reid, you in?”
Shaking my head, I said, “Chase, go ahead.” Chase annoyed the hell out of me, but he was a great guy to have around if we wanted info to spread. No doubt, Josie would be getting to know Chase better if she stayed here much longer. The guy was a social butterfly. Or maybe more like a social mosquito.
Chase strutted toward the cue rack. He tried looking cool, but instead resembled Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. “Thanks, boss.” My stomach sank like I’d swallowed a bowling ball. Santos used to call me “boss.” I’d been trying to push every thought of Santos to the dark recesses of my mind.