by Rebecca Rode
Physician Redd was right. Kole had begun to unravel in an alarming way, and I couldn’t talk to anyone about it.
I gave a long sigh and threw my arm over my eyes, blocking out the moonlight coming through the window. It didn’t help.
The movement isn’t the only thing that’s broken, Kole had said.
He would never agree to go under like Dad. After what happened to his mom, he’d never voluntarily lie in a hospital bed again. He wouldn’t even lie down on a sofa without watching the door, probably envisioning a dozen scenarios in which intruders entered and he fought them off. Anxiety, I’d thought, or maybe PTSD. But now that he’d escaped a burning building, his senses were in a continual high state of alert.
I could never convince him of his safety. Maybe not even when this was all over. What would be left for us, then? Was this the Kole—the guy who smashed glass in his sleep and threw furniture—I wanted by my side in war and in peace?
I thought of that image capture of Mom and Dad during their engagement hidden somewhere in my room a dimension away. Dad’s mischievous smile as he carried her on his back. The laughter in Mom’s eyes and her mouth open in an exclamation of delight, her arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. So free. So easy. That was what love meant.
Nothing about Kole and me was easy these days. I didn’t know what to think of that.
There was no sound from downstairs. Either Kole was still there or he’d gone for a walk in the dead of night. Probably the latter.
I put my shoes on and crept down the steps, placing my feet carefully to avoid the squeaking floorboards. The main room stood empty, and the air felt slightly cooler here on my bare arms. He’d snuck outside, then. I ached to go to him, to tell him we’d get through this together. That I’d be there for him the way he’d been there for me. It was all true . . . but it also wasn’t. Because I couldn’t help him if he refused to help himself.
I felt torn between two forces—a country that desperately needed help I couldn’t give, and a guy who needed me but pretended he didn’t.
Plopping down at the kitchen table, I put my head in my hands. Paper crinkled beneath my elbow. I frowned and pulled it out. That hadn’t been there last night. A note from Kole?
I flipped the light on and squinted at the messy, barely coherent scrawl. Definitely not the neat, intentional handwriting Kole used.
I NEED TO GO HOME SOON BUT I WANT TO TELL YOU WHAT
YOU NEED TO NOWE YOU WILL BELEVE ME WHEN YOU SEE.
YOU ARENT ALONE YOU HAVE ALLIES TO HELP.
MIDNIGHT WENSDAY WERE IT ALL BEGAN.
PLEASE.
I read it several times before letting myself breathe again. I took another look around, but nothing else in the room stood amiss. If the author of this message was still here, he’d hidden himself well. And I was fairly certain I knew who it was.
Chadd. The last person to arrive before his building burned down. The one Kole claimed he’d seen yesterday talking to a Firebrand. He’d found us.
A warning, perhaps? If I didn’t meet the guy, would he burn down this home as well?
With a frown, I read the note again. Even if Kole was wrong about yesterday, this guy had found me twice. That made him dangerous, no matter how innocent his note seemed. This could be an attempt to get me alone so they could bring me straight to Alex.
But why leave this note, then? He could have kidnapped me from my bed or turned all of us in at once. It wouldn’t take long to storm the building and arrest everyone. Firebrands didn’t knock on doors and make up elaborate stories or sneak into homes to leave letters. They just took what they wanted and ran. And Firebrands never said please. Besides, Kole could be wrong about what he saw. After all, he’d just destroyed a room in his sleep and denied a problem existed.
I looked toward the door, knowing exactly what Kole would say if I showed him. He would get all the more protective and refuse to let me even consider meeting the guy. And after tonight . . . My heart squeezed a little. Kole wasn’t okay. I couldn’t allow him to make decisions for the entire movement when he couldn’t even make the right decisions for himself.
I thought of the warehouse and the wealth of information we’d lost last night. One more mistake and we’d lose more than a building, equipment, and four medical assistants. It wasn’t even a matter of whether but when. As long as we remained in the city, we would get caught. Even if Millian’s plan worked and we converted the entire city to my side, we could lose this war. It was time to move from defense to offense, from NORA to the island. Time to gather our forces and prepare for war.
You aren’t alone, the note said. You have allies to help.
This guy couldn’t have known how desperately I needed those words.
I read it again, memorizing it. “Where it began” could only mean one place. I crumpled the note in my palm, walked to the stove, and tossed it in. The flame, orange, red, and brilliant purple, sprang to life within its secure box. The note glowed brightly as the flame surrounded it, its edges turning brown. Then the two were one—the paper being consumed, the fire devouring. I’d spent the past few weeks like that paper, floating about and allowing myself to be used, burned, consumed. No longer.
This time, I would be the flame.
Fifteen
Kole
I returned to find chaos awaiting me.
A large transport blocked the back alley, NORA’s Best Affordable Heating & Air scrawled across its side. Its back lay open to expose a ramp and several workers carrying boxes. Many of the guards I’d come to recognize had joined them, though they paused to watch me stalk up the lawn toward the door. It took talking to three people before I understood.
While I’d wandered the city last night, Legacy had decided to move everyone across the channel and awakened the entire house with a flurry of orders. She’d even brought people over from the shelters to help, some of whom looked a little more malnourished than the rest. Probably members of the homeless community I’d heard about. Even with all these people here, it was a wonder how much they’d accomplished.
Rather than clean up my mess and return to bed like I’d planned, I fell in step with the others, packing and carrying boxes and supplies. When my stomach growled, I stole a few pieces of old bread from a kitchen box and plowed on. Legacy’s strange behavior had to have something to do with last night. I was certain of it.
It was late morning before Legacy appeared. She situated herself next to Gram to oversee the preparations, pretending not to watch me. Every time I met her gaze, she tore her eyes away.
The seconds till our next inevitable argument ticked by, disappearing into nothing, my dread building. I knew how that conversation would go—the word “coma” was sure to come up. Legacy always relied too heavily on her family physician’s point of view. Probably her scientist mom’s upbringing.
My upbringing was a little more practical. Fight to survive. Never leave yourself vulnerable. Stay away from food prepared by someone else. Always carry a weapon. I resisted the urge to pat the knife weighing down my right pocket.
As late morning unfolded into afternoon, Travers joined me. He intercepted the box in my hands and set it down, albeit too roughly. Then he leaned over. “If these chilly looks between the two of you continue, we won’t need iceboxes for our food.”
I grunted. Travers smirked and adjusted the box, then joined me at the pile to move another.
“Girls don’t forget easily, do they?” I muttered.
Travers snorted, then covered it with a cough. He lifted a box and angled it between his face and Legacy across the room. “No, and there’s no ‘easily’ about it. Learn that now, so you can enjoy your time together.”
“I’m sorry about your wife,” I said, imagining how it would feel to lose Legacy like that.
The older man grunted under the box’s weight. “Thank you. Our relationship had more imperfection in it than perfection, I’m afraid, but I wouldn’t have been happy with perfection anyway. She would be happy wit
h our work here.”
Sometimes it was hard to believe we were helping people. I understood Legacy’s frustration with our lack of progress. “I’m here to keep Legacy safe, yet she hates me for it.”
“It’s the priceless birds who resent their cages most.” He lifted the box into the truck, then sighed with relief as he turned to look at me. “Women like Legacy refuse to accept the worst from us. That’s why they make the best partners.”
Legacy certainly fit that description. I’d never met anyone like her. “It would be nice if she could trust me, though.”
He snorted. “Make sure you’ve earned that trust before you demand it from her.”
I scowled. “I’ve always trusted her. She knows that.”
“Does she? Because that’s the look of a woman who’s trying to decide how to bash a guy over the head.”
I looked at Legacy again, but she spoke with one of her assistants now. Her eyes flicked to me, then away again. The only indication of her anger was the pink in her cheeks.
“I may deserve that on occasion,” I admitted. “She’s just so different it’s sometimes hard to understand her. We don’t think the same about most things.”
“She wouldn’t like you if you did. Nobody wants to date a mirror image of themselves. They want someone who complements their strengths, and for her, that’s you.” He smirked again. “Apparently.”
“But I don’t get that. She grew up in a mansion with gourmet meals and transports and—well, drivers,” I said pointedly. This entire conversation was weird, but having it with her driver made it even more strange. “I had one set of clothes, and they rarely fit right. When I walked to school in the rain, I’d arrive drenched, and the professors would yell at me, thinking I meant disrespect by it. Sometimes I went days without eating. I’d sneak through the dumpster at a restaurant and get yelled at by the manager. But they eventually went back inside, so I kept digging.”
Travers thought for a long moment. “Those Hawkings love their comfortable lives, it’s true. Most people would. But they also love people, deeply and passionately. I’ve known Legacy for years, and I’m telling you, she has a big heart. She just doesn’t want anyone to know it.”
“But what about after all this?” I gestured around us. “Say we win, which isn’t likely. Where is my place in her life when she gets the Copper Office? They don’t even have unvaccinated cats in their neighborhood, let alone a guy who’s—who’s done hard things to survive.” I’d nearly let my secret slip. A guy who killed his own father.
“Couples make their own place. You’ll find yours.” Travers slapped me on the back. “In the meantime, your role is to help Legacy carry her load, not block her path. I imagine she has quite enough of that already with those council members and Gram’s opinions.”
I looked across the room at Legacy, who still spoke with her assistant. Her cheeks had turned a deep red now. Bad news? I took a step toward her, then paused. She wouldn’t appreciate my barging into the issue right now. We had to mend what lay broken between us before she would allow me back into my role of supporter, and Travers was right about that. It was all I could be right now.
But how to mend a broken relationship? I’d never had to do that before.
I looked around the room once more. The piles of boxes and furniture were rapidly diminishing. “Where is Legacy staying tonight?”
“Here. Said she had something to do in the morning and didn’t want to travel all that way just to turn around and come back. Gram will accompany His Honorable Hawking and Millian to the island this afternoon, so it will be just you, me, and Miss Hawking here tonight. And her guards, of course.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “There’s some kind of cook preparing all your food, right?”
“An assistant who cooks, yes. But she’s already crossed over to the island to prepare the kitchens. We’ll be fending for ourselves until we join the others tomorrow.”
“Perfect.”
Legacy’s driver cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”
I looked him in the eye. “You know I enjoy your company, but is there any chance I can persuade you to accompany Gram to the island instead? I’ll radio you in the morning when we’re ready to come over. I’m going to cook Legacy dinner, but don’t say anything. I want to surprise her.”
His confusion melted into understanding. “Of course. My lips are sealed, Firebrand. Just don’t undercook it and give her food poisoning, or I’ll find you.”
I grinned. “Deal.”
Sixteen
Legacy
My escape went exactly as planned.
I slipped away shortly after the transport left, Gram and Travers trailing it in a different vehicle. Travers sent me a wave and a promise to return tomorrow. Kole had mysteriously disappeared. After all his talk of staying together, I waited a little while, concocting wild stories of why I needed to be alone tonight, none of which he would have believed.
The guard change finally forced my hand. It was now or never, so I slipped out and ducked behind the fence just as the new shift took their places, feeling a heavy guilt settle in my stomach. Kole would never forgive me for this, but I had to try. I’d never get another chance.
I arrived at the hospital several hours early, one hand on the stunner in my pocket as the sun dipped behind the line of structures forming the city skyline. The building loomed high overhead, at least ten stories tall with dark windows that reflected the city lights as they came on one by one. Well, most of the city, anyway. As the blue sky faded into purple, then gray, then black, the Shadows remained in darkness as always. Another policy I would ask Dad to change when he awoke.
What if he never wakes up? I shoved back the thought, but it floated there, ever in my mind.
After four times around the hospital, taking in the crisp coolness of the night and the calming song of crickets, I began to relax a little. No armies of Firebrands hid on the rooftop or deep in the bushes. If that messenger wanted to harm me, he hadn’t set up my demise before now. Maybe he truly was who he claimed.
The possibilities set my heart galloping, but I pushed them back. Hope was dangerous.
I crossed the road and settled beneath the overhang of an office building. I could see anyone who arrived at the hospital from here, but they couldn’t see me. With my back to the building, this position would also be decently easy to defend. I tightly gripped my stunner and glanced at the old-fashioned watch on my wrist. Midnight felt an eternity away.
I busied myself thinking of my favorite memories. It was a game Alex and I had played as children. We named an acquaintance of ours, the more distant the better, and told elaborate stories about this person with a single thread of truth. Then the other person had to guess which parts were lies. Alex usually won. I’d never been good at lying.
Midnight finally arrived. I visually swept the area. A cat crossed the street, then pounced on a tiny shadow. The shadow got away.
Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty.
Forty. Forty-five.
The stunner grew heavier with each passing minute. My fingers went slack as my head drooped, and I nearly dropped the weapon a couple of times. I shook myself awake, chiding myself to stay alert, but my earlier adrenaline rush had long since dissipated. I felt like a fool.
Of course it was too good to be true. There were no so-called allies, and my biological mother had no real desire to meet me. She’d probably died long ago and the messenger was every bit the liar Kole believed.
“She abandoned you,” I whispered to myself, the sound jarring in the silence of the night. “She left you alone. Don’t forget that.”
So did Mom, a different voice whispered.
That particular thought was crueler than the rest, and it felt like a knife to the gut. But Mom thought she was helping us. It was the only reason she would . . . do what she did.
I sighed. Maybe I’d read the note wrong. If “where it all began” meant someplace else, the guy could be out there waiting for me, and
I’d never know it. Perhaps if I returned home, there would be another note waiting.
“You showed.”
I whirled around, aiming my stunner at the dark figure standing casually in the shadows. He looked amused by the weapon in my hands. I recognized his voice, but Kole hadn’t let me see the guy that night, so this was my first look at him. Mid-twenties, perhaps, and either lanky or malnourished. The way he hunched over made him look even skinnier.
“Nice of you to waste half my night,” I snapped. “I was about to leave.”
“No, you weren’t. Can we find somewhere farther from the street?”
“I don’t think so. My driver wants to keep us in sight.”
He smirked, and I mentally cursed myself for my inability to lie convincingly. Maybe Travers wouldn’t have been a bad idea. And a few guards, besides.
“I’m unarmed,” he said, “so you can put that thing down.”
“Not yet. First, tell me why you burned my boyfriend’s building down.”
His twisted smile faded. “Sorry to disappoint, but that wasn’t me.”
I kept the stunner aimed at his chest. “And that wasn’t you who met the Firebrand yesterday either, was it?”
Now he looked dumbfounded. “Wow, you people are paranoid. I did meet with one of them, actually. A lady who freaked me out a little. She wanted me to bring a message to someone.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I said I would. Before you ask, it’s on a chip, so I don’t know what it says. But I don’t think you need to worry anyway. Most people I know can’t stand those guys. Whatever they want, they aren’t likely to get it.”
I nearly asked who the message was for, but I didn’t want to derail the conversation. “You said you had some proof.”
“Demanding one, aren’t you?” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a piece of paper—not the kind from books but thicker. “Kadee Steer went back to the hospital to retrieve you when you were six days old. You were gone. The hospital refused to answer her questions and turned her away. She returned every day for a week until the administrator gave her this in secret.”