And I’ve heard other similar stories too. Not ones that end in suicide—that’s rare, I think. But ones where the people are never the same. A week in an Enhanced compound is usually the absolute cut-off point. Anything beyond that and the individual is far too addicted to the Enhanced lifestyle. Even then, they’re never the person they were before capture. And, besides, it’s a week for the strong people. Some don’t even last a couple of days before they’re fully converted.
I think of Red’s mother.
She was Enhanced for three days before she was rescued, but she was never the same afterward—filled with vacant looks, constantly sweating, and addicted to any drugs or alcohol she could get her hands on. That’s what the augmenters did to her. She couldn’t even be left alone in the village—there always had to be someone watching her.
Or she was tied up.
I remember the look on Red’s face each time he saw her that way. Each time he begged her not to take any more of the powder, each time he tried to pry a bottle from her. And he believed it was his fault, that he wasn’t enough for his mother, that she hated living with him.
But it wasn’t his fault. We all knew that.
It was because of the Enhanced. The withdrawal effects from their lifestyle.
And that was after three days in the compound.
Not ten years.
I don’t understand. Red knows what his mother was like after she was converted. Yet he thinks we can save my parents?
“No,” I say. “It’s been ten years. That’s way too long.” Ten years since I last saw him…ten years since I last saw my parents. Everything happened that night. That fateful night. I press my lips together for a moment. “What? Do you think there’s a chance?”
I look at Red carefully, studying him before I realize what I’m doing. Before I realize that my eyes are running over the sharp lines of his face, pretending his eyes aren’t mirrors.
Look away.
Red parts his lips slightly. I try not to look at his lips. I also try not to notice the way my breathing gets faster, and how, automatically, I start to lean toward him.
Stop it.
“No.”
“So why say it?”
“Because I thought I’d better give you the option.”
I look away from him to where Bea is only just in sight. She’s on the side of the dip, collecting more plants. She’s staring into the distance. I know what she’d want, if Red asked her the same question. And I know that Mila would jump at the chance. She’s told me before how she hates that she never knew Mum and Dad.
And Elf? Well. Elf wouldn’t want Red trying to get our parents back. We don’t often talk about them, but I know my brother, and I know he thinks our parents are lost to us. It’s what we’re taught after all.
And ten years is a long time.
Too long?
But I imagine Mila’s and Bea’s faces when I bring our parents back.
And then their faces when our parents are in withdrawal from augmenters, when they’re desperate and angry all the time. When they’re shells of their former selves. When they’re always trying to go back to the Enhanced.
When they’re not our parents anymore.
“No,” I say finally and look back at Red. I put the gun back into my waistband, then pull my shirt over it at the back. I don’t take my eyes off Red as I do it though, as if I’ve got to keep staring at him. Have to.
Red nods. “Good call.”
And my eyes devour him. I drink in every little detail of his appearance: how the thick bands of muscles around his chest and shoulders show through his shirt; how the shirt’s bottom hem isn’t quite flat against his sculpted torso and the waist of his jeans is low, and I can see a teasing glimpse of his hard, flat stomach and the tattoos there. I want him to take his shirt off again, and more, so that this time I can really appreciate him—and part of me is shocked that I’m thinking about Red in such a strong way.
“I can’t believe I’ve found you,” Red says. I try to ignore how deep and raspy his voice has suddenly gone, and how it calls to something deep inside me. Because this is pathetic. I’m being like the stereotypical lovesick teen.
I think of the second note. “You want me to come to your office tomorrow?”
But he shakes his head. “Too dangerous. I only wrote that for effect. And because I knew you’d find me out here today anyway.”
“Oh.”
He grins. “We’d have to be careful, but what about regular meetings? Out here?” He indicates the landscape around us. “Or higher up the Titians?”
“Here’s fine,” I say. I don’t want Red going any farther into the mountains until I can be absolutely sure of him. I’m fine putting myself in danger—but not the others. Anyway, part of me wants him all to myself.
I swallow hard, but I can’t pretend I don’t feel the way my face heats up.
“We’ll meet once a month?” I say, wiping my clammy hands on my jeans.
“Once a month?” He sounds incredulous. “Keelie, we have loads of catching up to do. You have no idea how happy I was to realize it was you. You don’t know what it’s like there, with them—so drugged up on augmenters that they think we’re all best friends and everything’s perfect. I want to see you, Keelie. I want to see you regularly, just to have another conversation with an Untamed person who isn’t pretending to have joined the perfect mob, if nothing else.”
I think his eyes say that he hopes it won’t just be a conversation though—but it’s hard to tell, what with the mirrors. Still, I fight every ounce of my energy not to smile and grin like a lunatic.
“How’s Bea been doing, out here?”
“All right. She’s amazing at plants.”
“I remember.” He smiles. “I saw on your mother’s notes they’d diagnosed her soon after she was converted.”
“Diagnosed?”
“Autism,” he says.
“Caia-Lu always called her a changeling,” I say.
Red nods. “And Bea too.”
I look across at the horizon.
“So, you and Bea survived. Uh…” He trails off and looks awkward. But I know what he wants to ask.
“Elf and Mila too,” I say.
“Shit. Wow.” He lets out a low whistle and plays with the strap of his watch. It’s very expensive-looking. But Red always did like valuable things.
“Did…did anyone else?” I ask. “Like, with you?”
He shakes his head, and a muscle in his neck pulses. Is he thinking of what I did?
The wind picks up, and I shiver. I look at Red; suddenly, I feel like something’s not right, even though I want to touch him. Kiss him. See if he tastes the same way he did. But part of me screams that this man can’t be Red. That it doesn’t make sense. Why would Red be in New Kimearo? We’re weeks and weeks away from D’Elinous, our old village. There are hundreds of towns and cities he could’ve gone to—hundreds that are nearer to our old village. Why would he be out here?
“Is it really you?” The question escapes my lips before I can stop it.
And, suddenly, all these fancies run through my mind; we can be together again. Me and him—best friends. And it’ll all be okay, and it’ll be like how it was back at the village, and maybe I can save everyone…everyone who was lost to us and….
Red closes what little distance there is between us. “It’s me. You know it’s me.”
He touches my chest, his fingers splaying out above my left breast. His fingertips tap on my collarbone. I breathe in sharply, check that Bea isn’t watching from afar, and try to ignore the fluttering within me.
“Right here, you know.” His voice is like velvet. Men’s voices have always been a weakness of mine; my knees tingle, and it’s all I can do just to stand there and look at him. “You can feel it’s me, K. I know you can.”
A myriad of feelings goes through me. Panic. Apprehension. Anxiety. Disbelief. Excitement.
I put my hand over his, slowly, then pull his away, so he�
�s not touching me there. So we’re just holding hands. And that’s better, isn’t it?
“I’d better go,” Red says, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. “Can’t have anyone getting suspicious of me.”
I nod. “So…when are we meeting again?” Something about saying those words makes me tingle. I hope I’m not blushing.
He squeezes my fingers. “I’d like to meet tomorrow. Hell, I’d like to stay with you now.” I wish I could see his eyes under those mirrors. “But I—I don’t want anyone getting suspicious. How about in three days’ time?”
I nod. “Same time?”
“Early morning’s best. Just after sunrise. Right by these rocks.”
I can’t help but smile, and he grips my hand tighter. Part of me doesn’t want to let go—it’s Red, for the Gods’ sake!
Right before he leaves, he glances over toward where Bea is. “She won’t tell anyone, will she?”
I shake my head, a little annoyed. If it was Elf here, would Red have asked that? “Of course not.”
“A secret romance!” Bea’s eyes glisten as she stares at me on the walk back. “I saw you two—thought you were going to kiss.”
“You saw?” I raise my eyebrows, feeling myself blushing again. My chest swells a little, and I shake myself. “It’s hardly a romance! But we can’t tell anyone, Bea, about him.”
She laughs. “Of course not. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a secret.”
“No. About any of it. Him being undercover. Everything.”
She nods, but I distinctly notice the annoyance in her posture. “I wouldn’t put our friend in danger. You should know me better than that. But, if you’re going to be seeing Red, and if stuff is going to happen, you should definitely end things with Nico. It’s not fair to string him along.”
“Yeah,” I say, wondering whether stuff is in fact going to happen.
By the time we get near Nbutai, I feel strange and jumpy. The meeting with Red keeps replaying in my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the danger he’s in. Red’s right—no one else here can know about him. It’ll put him in more danger—as well as whatever mission he’s involved with.
But this is huge. I know that. And I want to tell them. But it’s something Bea and I will have to keep to ourselves. At least I have her to talk about it with.
“Keelie! Bea!”
I see them waiting, on the outskirts of Nbutai. Rahn, Sajo, Corin, Kayden, Paul, and several more men, all holding guns. Mainly Glocks and Lugers.
“What the hell is goin’ on? You stole one of my guns!” Rahn is fuming.
“You worried my wife,” Paul says. “And you mentioned an attack, then we couldn’t find you.”
“And you came out here on your own with her to defend us all?” Rahn points savagely at Bea.
I step in front of her, heat flooding me, before my sister can react. “Don’t talk about Bea like that.”
“Well what good would she be if we were bein’ attacked?” Rahn demands. “She’d get overloaded or whatever it is and—”
“I take it there is no conversion attack?” Corin steps forward.
I shake my head. “Bad dream. That was all.”
“We went to collect more herbs,” Bea says, showing them the contents of her bag, then she starts telling them their names and all the different properties and the types of poultices she’s going to teach me and Mila to make with them.
Rahn scowls. “So there’s no one out here?”
“No. I just had a very vivid dream.”
“Not a Seer, are you?” Rahn looks at me in disgust now, his upper lip quivering.
“No.” I keep my voice steady.
Rahn grunts. “Well, you can pay for all the upset you’ve caused. I want you on cleaning duty for the rest of the day. And then you can look after Finn. He’s got diarrhea.”
Bea turns to me. “He’s got diarrhea?” Then she frowns. “What about our lesson, with the herbs?”
“Forget about your bloody herbs!” Rahn yells. “Some of us have to live in the real world.”
“Rahn!” I hiss. Tension pours through me, and I grip my hands into tight fists. “Don’t talk to my sister like that.”
Rahn snorts. “Don’t pretend like you care.”
I slap him.
“I do not ignore her!” I yell. “She’s my sister—she’s a person, Rahn. A real person—more of a person than you!”
Rahn staggers back, grabbing at his glasses as they slide askew cross his face. Several of the men step closer to him. But Corin and Paul step closer to me.
I spit at the ground, then glare at Rahn. “That’s what I think of you.”
For a few moments, no one does anything.
I turn away. “Come on, Bea. Let’s go and find Mila.”
News of me slapping our leader spreads around Nbutai fast. People seem divided into camps: some hate me for disrespecting Rahn, and some admire me. A lot of the men watch me carefully now. Attitudes are changing; I realized that when Corin came and collected the Luger from me—he gave me a reassuring nod. There was something about his manner that reminded me of Elf.
“Be careful, though, Keelie,” Five says. She’s joined Mila, Bea, and I for the lesson on herbs and poultices. “Rahn’s going to have it in for you now.”
I shrug. “I don’t care. He deserved it.”
“She slapped him like this!” Bea yells, overexcited, and then demonstrates on the ragdoll that Marouska made for her a long time ago. The fabric’s all dirty now, but Bea won’t let it be washed.
Mila laughs hysterically.
Five smiles, and the four of us go back to our lesson where Bea tells us all about the different properties of various herbs and the best ways to dry them. Her face really lights up as she teaches us, and Mila stares at her adoringly. Our little sister loves Bea more than anything in the world—Bea’s filled in the role of mother for Mila, and there’s nothing Bea can do that will make Mila look at her differently. Sometimes, I’m jealous of their bond. But I’ve got Elf. Twins of the stars.
“When can we make the poultices?” I ask.
“In about two weeks, I think. The herbs have to be upside down in bags for about that long. Putting them in the cab of one of the trucks would work well…if Rahn lets us.” I notice her tone drop.
“What about Yani’s hut?” Five asks. “His gets the most sun. It’s like a greenhouse in there.”
Bea’s eyes light up, and I smile to myself. A couple of times, I’ve noticed her and Yani walking together. Once, when Mila and Bea were singing, I found him listening in secret.
I watch Bea carefully as she tells us more about the herbs, still worried that she believed what Rahn was saying earlier—that I don’t care about her. But she’s sitting next to me now, and she seems happy. I’m relieved. Because Rahn is wrong. Bea’s my sister, and I’ll do anything for her. Just like I’ll do anything for Elf and Mila.
Five leaves to get food at one point and returns with the smoothest soup—the texture Bea prefers. We eat and laugh and talk, and then Bea teaches us some more about the plants, and soon we’re all engrossed in it again, and then it’s time to get something for our evening meal.
Just before last light, Elf enters the hut. I don’t know where he’s been all day—he’s one of the few people I haven’t seen, not since I left him sleeping here this morning—and he grunts at me, Mila, and Bea, then he sees Five. The change in him is unmistakable, and I smile as he suddenly straightens up and musters out a greeting.
“Are…are you having, uh, fun?” He gestures between Five and Bea. Bea’s herbs are laid out on the floor, and Mila’s doll, Straw Hair—under Mila’s direction—keeps trying to eat them.
Five nods, smiling. “Great fun. It’s really interesting learning about the medicinal properties of plants.”
Elf slips behind me, then sits on his bed. I sneak a glance at him, see that his face has gone red and he’s looking at the floor. His hands are tightly clasped together; he does that when he’s nervous,
and it’s so obvious who’s making him nervous here.
I see Mila has noticed too, and she sticks her tongue out at him. She does that a lot.
Go on, I mouth at Five, raising my eyebrows, well aware that Elf’s following the conversation.
What? She widens her eyes, but I can tell she knows perfectly well what I mean because the corners of her mouth are turning upward.
I stand up. “Bea, you going to take Mila out for her walk?”
“I’m not a dog,” Mila says.
“I didn’t mean that,” I say, looking at her. Then I flick my eyes to Elf and Five and raise my eyebrows.
Bea looks unsettled for a moment. “We normally go earlier…” She tugs at her hair. “But I was teaching you about the poultices and herbs, and it was going really well, so I didn’t mind that we weren’t going on our walk. But it’s a bit too late to leave now. It’s already dark.”
Elf looks relieved.
“Okay, what about getting Mila washed and ready for bed?”
“I can do that myself,” Mila protests, looking very much like she doesn’t want to miss the chance of seeing Elf embarrass himself. Which, admittedly, is quite high—when it comes to Five.
“Okay, but why don’t the three of us go?” I say. “And, after we’re washed, we can look at the stars.”
Bea hums as she stands. “Yes. Mila, I’ll tell you one of the Old Stories too.”
“Don’t forget Straw Hair,” I say to Mila.
By the door, I grab Mila’s pajamas and our thick blanket. It’s a heavy one with the smooth texture that Bea likes. I consider taking the clothes Bea and I sleep in—I finally changed out of mine before Bea’s lesson—but I figure that we’ll just change when we’re back. Only Mila’s likely to fall asleep and get straight into bed when we return. Bea and I will probably stay up for a bit longer.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elf giving me an alarmed look. He’s tense, but Five’s about as relaxed as can be, lying nearly horizontal across the floor on her stomach, her head propped up on her hands in such a way that her dark hair fans out over her shoulders.
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