by Casey Hays
“You think that was Justin he saw?” Aaron asks when we’re alone.
“I know it was.”
“And the girl?”
I shrug. “Sounds like Liza.”
“Liza,” Aaron nods. “We’ve never met her.”
“Well, I guess you might get to now.”
I peer up at him. The hammers chime all around us like harsh music. I concentrate on them a moment, and the noise—so close and pounding— is a grating nuisance. My nerves begin to rattle with it.
“Why do they let you work?” I suddenly ask.
He removes his goggles and scratches his head until tufts of his gray hair stick up wildly. “At first, I thought it was because they hoped we’d be more manageable if we continued ‘business as usual’.”
“And now?”
He barely moves his lips, his voice low. “We’re making their weapons.”
I freeze. “Eden-killers?”
His expression is grim, and his eyes flit toward the soldiers warily even though they aren’t close enough to hear his muffled words from under the lean-to. But he keeps is voice low anyway.
“Penelope told me that’s what you call them. We received their specifications a few days ago, once they inspected the quality of our work. The molds were completed yesterday.”
I can’t speak.
“As for the rest of our weapons, they’re packing them up. Readying them to send somewhere.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “What has your board done?”
He pauses, weighs his answer, and then just says it.
“They executed our board nearly four weeks ago.”
My nerves rip through me like barbed wire against skin.
“All of them?”
“All of them.” His voice quavers slightly, a pinch of sadness filling his eyes. “Got rid of anyone who might pose a threat. Anyone who might have an interest in aiding Eden. That included the entire Board and their families. It also included ridding the clinic of people they deemed too ill to be bothered with.” He pauses. “They’ve dug a mass grave just east of the village.”
I’m a statue, absorbing this information about as well as a stone. Aaron wipes at his moist eyes.
“And Penelope? They’ve left her alone even though she’s from Eden?”
Aaron licks his lips, a defensive tone filling his voice. “She’s the only doctor here. And thank goodness she’s a good doctor. It didn’t take them more than a day to figure that out, and whether she’s from Eden or not, they see value in her. One less worry for me.” A pause. “Plus, I think they’re a little bit scared of her.”
I puzzle over this a moment, and I get it. They’re a little bit scared of me, too. A look of sympathy crosses Aaron’s face.
“I know you’re worried about your family.”
“Yeah.” I swallow.
The news of Jordan’s board only magnifies the worry, and thoughts of my family cut deep. All the images stored inside my brain spill out in a stream of memories, and they hurt. A grim future teases me where I see my mother’s eyes only when I look in a mirror. Where my dad never has the chance to teach me how to be a man. And Ava? She still has to grow up. I have to dance with her on her wedding day.
What if I’m cheated out of these things?
“Were you and Kate alone when the attack happened?”
Aaron rubs his hands together, and I’m snapped back to my present reality.
“I was alone.” I pull at my collar. It’s so hot next to this fiery barrel. The thunder grumbles. A few raindrops splatter. “Kate was with Justin. But we found out about the attack from a hunting expedition we ran into.”
He nods. “I see.”
“Justin will come here,” I nod with full confidence.
“That could be dangerous.”
“I know.” I keep my voice low. “But it looks like he’s already taking precautions. Which means I won’t have to go find him. Thanks to Thomas, I know he’s around. Besides, I’m not about to leave Kate.”
“She’s in good hands if you have to.” His voice is a calm sea. “If you need to get out of Jordan, we’ll take care of her.”
My throat is parched, and I clear it loudly. Too loudly. Aaron tosses me one of his last bottles of water. I open it and chug half its lukewarm contents.
“You know, I do understand what it’s like to love someone so much it scares you.”
I cap the bottle, watching him. He stands, gazing toward the south—the direction of Eden. I can’t help it; my eyes follow his. The trees break at the end of the long path leading out of town. Black clouds roll over us and on toward a horizon that stretches for miles, and I smell the rain on the air. A few more drops tease us.
“A lowly blacksmith from a poor town and a beauty from Eden.” He laughs with a shake of his head. “What a combination, huh?”
He picks up a leather glove hanging on a hook just inside the lean-to—a glove with a steel cuff and long enough to come up past the elbow. He slaps it against his palm.
“But it wouldn’t have mattered if she was a hopper from Gaza. I loved her.”
One station over, fire flares up suddenly out of a blacksmith’s barrel. We both turn to watch the commotion. Its owner backs away from the angry flames, a piece of long steel with a burning red tip tight in his leather-clad grip. The soldiers shuffle, alert, guards up. The other blacksmiths make some scolding comments until he growls back at them. Aaron chuckles with a shake of his head.
“Hazards of the job,” he says. He raises his arm to reveal a five inch burn scar along the inside of his left bicep.
I smile and roll the water bottle between my palms.
“Kate hasn’t shifted,” Aaron suddenly says. The bottle stills in my hand. His gentle eyes bore into me. “I don’t have to be the doctor in the family to notice that. She’s not from Eden, is she?”
I purse my lips, slowly shake my head.
“Ah,” Aaron toys with the fingers of his glove. “I had a sneaky suspicion that your love story was similar to mine. Where did you meet her?”
I lean forward until my heart crushes against my ribcage, and in the heaviness, a line of bamboo bars stands out against the moonlight. It’s musty, and I can smell my own sweat mixed in with the dank stench. Kate is lying beside me on a mat, and I’ve rolled a blanket lengthwise between us to make her feel more at ease.
I pretended to fall asleep quickly that first night—for her sake. She was so afraid of me, and I had nothing to offer to calm her fears, nothing but my promise not to touch her in the form of that rolled blanket. In reality, I didn’t sleep much that night, not until the early hours of the morning. It was too dark to see her, but I could hear her breathing, and it made me want to cry to be so close to another human being again. It had been weeks, maybe months, I’m not sure. But I knew this one thing: I wasn’t alone that night.
“In a cave at the bottom of a pit,” I say quietly.
Aaron rubs a hand across his chin.
“What was that?”
“I met Kate in a cave at the bottom of a pit,” I repeat.
“Mmmm. Not very romantic.”
“But it was.” I meet his eyes head on. “Because I loved her inside that cave. I didn’t know it at the time, but I did.” The thought sinks in, becomes real. “I loved her even then.”
I dip my head to prevent him from seeing my tears. His firm hand drops onto my shoulder. We are silent.
“I need her to live,” I finally whisper.
“And she will live, God willing,” he answers. “He’s brought you this far, even if you don’t realize it. He has a plan for you, and one for her.”
I look at him. That’s what I don’t understand. If there is a god, where was he when Kate was nearly lashed to death? When she was tied to a tree for helping me escape? When she was shot? Better yet, where was he when I was dragged off to that pit in the first place? Was all of that his will?
I can’t accept it.
I stand too abruptly, knocking Aar
on’s hand from my shoulder, and duck out from under the lean-to. The sprinkling rain is growing heavier. It wets my skin. The two soldiers spot me at once, a shock overcoming their expressions. They stand alert yards away, gathering their wits and their weapons. Their faces amuse me, and I can’t help but smirk. Two white sheets, terrified.
I make a move in their direction, and their guns fly up, dual barrels aimed at my chest. I should be afraid, I suppose. But suddenly, I’m not so much. I’m only irritated. At them, at myself, at Aaron and his words about God’s will. He doesn’t need to say more. I’m not about to put my trust in God’s will to save Kate now. In my mind, she would be no better off than she is in the hands of the Archer she despises.
With a wary glance at the other, one of the soldiers braves coming closer, nodding at Aaron.
“I think it’s time you get back to work, sir.”
Aaron takes a step toward the barrel. “Well, if that’s what you think.”
He doesn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice despite his calm demeanor. His eyes flit toward me. I wipe my hands across my jeans and glare at the soldier until he swallows and takes a backwards step.
“I don’t know who you are,” he says. His grip tightens on his weapon. “But you’ll need to come with me.”
In that instant, I look towards Eden, and the familiar, deep ache rips through me with a longing for my family. It’s accompanied by a crushing guilt. Because I know I wouldn’t long for them nearly as much if we weren’t in danger. I’m too selfish. But the siege has managed to drag things into perspective.
I turn my back on the soldier and face Aaron.
“Is this God’s will, too, then?” I whisper.
Aaron doesn’t look up as he lowers a stone bowl full of black metal chunks onto the hot peat in his barrel.
“We’ll see,” he shrugs.
His words spark an irritation. The majority of my people are trapped in Eden, surrounded by a formidable army that appears to be too strong and too impossible to defeat. And Aaron plans to wait on God?
I watch him closely, and I see the resistance plainly on his face even as he works to pour the liquefied metal into an enemy mold. Even as the Vortex forces him to make the very weapons that will kill us. And suddenly, Justin’s words echo in my memory.
“I’ve seen more of these people than you have. I’ve seen their spirits.”
And I understand. Aaron loves someone from Eden, and for that reason, he has a vested interest in our home. And his superhuman wife has built a strong and trusting relationship with Outsiders.
Outsiders with a talent for making weapons.
Aaron sweeps his eyes toward me, and his mouth tips at the corner. And I see hope written there. He hasn’t given up; neither will I.
He picks up a long piece of metal, pokes the end into the peat coals to heat it. And as his hammer slams down with a jolting clang, I smile.
I’m gone before those soldiers have time to blink.
Chapter 6
T
he rain pours with a harsh rushing against the wooden porch. Over and over, hard drops splatter against the window and race each other down the glass. Every thirty seconds, lightning brightens the room, briefly shattering the shadows, and Kate lies quietly in its wake.
I returned just after dark, racing through the trees to circle back and come in the north side of Jordan. Despite the heavy activity everywhere in town, I managed to slip past the guys on watch without being seen.
Aaron was questioned after I disappeared, but he gave them nothing. And even when they escorted him home and searched the house, he remained silent. Finding no trace that I had ever been there, they left him with the threat that if he was in any way aiding the “mutant,” they would not go easy on him. Luckily, those guys had not been made aware of Kate, so they left “the sick girl in the room” alone.
I’ve been here with her for hours now, and I can’t take my eyes off her face. I have the strangest apprehension rumbling inside me prompting me to memorize this moment. I can’t understand why, except that right now, she feels so distant. Like a stranger.
I need her to connect with me more than I ever have before.
She doesn’t make a single move. A couple of times her complete stillness scares me enough that I lean up and hover my ear just over her mouth until I feel the slightest tickle of her breath. Only then do my nerves ease back.
Thunder cracks the night, another wave of lightning illuminates Kate’s skin, and my heart stirs. I run my hand up her forearm and let it rest in the crook of her elbow.
Penelope made a medical decision to keep Kate sedated for the next twelve hours as a precaution. Surgery went well. She managed to remove the rest of the shrapnel, too. The surgery lasted the rest of the day, and it had been dark for hours by the time she finally came out of the room. And the minute I read her face, all my anxiety drained out of me. Because I could tell immediately: it was done, and it was good.
I couldn’t find the words to thank her. I just stood there, water trickling down my face like a broken faucet, until Penelope wrapped her solid, comforting arms around me.
I’ve wrestled with myself over what I should say to Kate when she wakes, and still, I haven’t decided. It has to be exactly what she needs to hear. And what is that? An apology? A promise that I will never let something like this happen to her again for as long as I live? Or does she only need to hear how much I love her? Will she even believe me anymore?
I squeeze her arm gently and silently repeat my solemn vow. No more lies.
She stirs beneath my hand, and I straighten with a start. It’s the first movement she’s made since I brought her here. Her head turns toward me slightly, and she moans.
“Kate?” I keep my tone even, my voice soft. I lean in close. “I’m here, Kate.”
She furrows her brows, eyes squeezed tightly, and a grimace clouds her expression. And then . . . she bellows out in agony, the tortured scream of an animal caught in a trap.
I’m at the door in a flash.
“Penelope!” I yell with urgency, and then louder. “Penelope!”
She scurries out of her own room, tying a ragged bathrobe at the waist.
“She’s moving around.” I lead her back to Kate’s bedside. “She’s—she’s in pain, I think.”
I run nervous hands through my hair. Penelope touches the back of her hand to Kate’s bandaged forehead. Kate whimpers, jerking away.
“Light a candle, Ian.”
I leap to the small table in the corner and fumble with the matches. The flame bursts with life just as another flash of lightning fractures the room with a bright, blue-gray hue. Thunder rumbles overhead.
I carry the candle to the bedside and hold it up for Penelope. Her stethoscope is in place, and she listens intently to Kate’s beating heart as my own heartbeat thuds rapidly in my ears.
“Is she okay?”
Penelope steps back a pace, lets the stethoscope dangle around her neck. “She’s running a fever. And pain is expected.”
She takes the candle from me and moves to a wooden cabinet that hangs on the wall across from Kate’s bed. I linger at Kate’s side. Her eyelids flutter briefly, the dark, thick lashes brushing up against her cheeks. I press the tips of my fingers against her forearm and lean in close.
Open your eyes, Kate. Please look at me.
Penelope unlocks the cabinet. It’s full of various bottles and cartons. Some are definitely local herbs, but a few have yellow labels with black typed print—medicines Doc brings from Eden. She examines one bottle, replaces it, and selects another filled with a clear liquid. She returns to the bed.
“This will help with the pain and reduce the fever.” She sets the candle aside, picks up a sterile syringe from the rolling table of instruments, and jabs the needle into the rubber end of the bottle cap. Slowly, the syringe fills with the medicine. “The soldiers have confiscated nearly every drug worth having.” She raises an irritated brow as she pushes the needle into Kate’s I.V. li
ne and slowly releases. “Not that we ever have much lying around, but they don’t know about my secret stash. Still, if Eden isn’t capable of sending a medical expedition, this is all I have left.”
“What about the clinic?”
She shakes her head, pinching the I.V. line, pushing the drug downward through the tube along with the saline toward Kate’s arm. “There’s not much left there, either. And I’m afraid I’ve worn out my welcome. This small generator was the last request they agreed to honor, and only because it had very little charge left.”
Penelope indicates the generator with a wave of her hand. It sits in a corner now, the battery dead. She runs a comforting hand up my arm. I stand still, staring down at Kate’s sleeping face.
“We’ll do our best with what we’ve got. Don’t worry. A fever after a surgery is normal. Her vitals are strong.”
I swallow and nod. I can’t do anything else. Her reassurances are all I’ve got to rely on. The scrunched lines on Kate’s face relax as the medication takes hold.
Aaron sticks his head into the room. “Everything okay in here?”
His hair is a disheveled mess, and sleep drags at his tired eyes. Penelope waves him away.
“We’re fine. Kate’s just decided to announce a change in her condition.” She smiles at me. “For the better, we hope.” She connects with Aaron. “Go on back to bed.”
The room lights up again, catching the silver streak in her hair. Aaron disappears, and my shoulders sag with sudden fatigue. The medication continues to slide up the tubing and into Kate’s arm. For a minute, it takes me back to Eden. A dose of Serum would do me a world of good about now.
“Ian, Kate is going to be fine.” Penelope’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “Her surgery went well. I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.” She moves to the door, pulling it open. “I’ve made a pallet for you in the living room. Go get some rest.”
My insides tighten, and I gear up to protest, but she raises her hand to silence me.
“No arguing. You will be of no use to Kate when you’re exhausted.”