Master: Arrow's Flight #3

by Casey Hays

  And it’s settled.

  We are going home.

  Chapter 41

  F

  ive more days pass before Ian comes, flanked by Justin and Jesse and Max. It is a beautiful sight—the four of them together and safe and alive. He sweeps in and kisses me, and every promise we’ve ever made to each other is magnified by his touch. It floods me with joy . . . and it makes me sad. I try not to cry; it’s no use. But the warm feel of his fingers brushing the wetness from my cheeks is worth every tear.

  Justin pulls me in for a deep hug, and I take in the smell of him, longing to imprint it on my memory. I will miss him when I go.

  The boys tell us the stand-off at Eden will be remembered as the shortest lived battle in history, and hopefully the last. The walls are partially gone, the lab is demolished, but Eden was not destroyed. They fought the battle from the inside, and they won.

  Many people died, Vortex and Eden citizens alike, but once the lab was destroyed, there was nothing left to fight for. The Serum is gone. The remaining Vortex called a truce and pulled out their forces once their planes were disabled and their explosives confiscated. The Set-Typhon, known for sneak attacks, had much to do with this victory.

  “And your sister?” Penelope asks.

  We sit together around a campfire outside Fran’s shack, the smell of rabbits roasting over a spit. Her baby, Henry, sleeps in Diana’s arms. Every so often, he twitches, whining softly, but the worst of his withdrawals has passed. His coloring grows healthier every day. As for Fran, she disappeared yesterday, cramping in the throes of her own withdrawals and desperate to get another dose of Cricket while she still could.

  “Mom was able to keep her away from the action,” Ian answers. “Her defense sequence never activated.”

  Penelope nods, a sigh of relief emitting from her. “That’s good. The longer she’s kept from realizing her full capacity, the better.”

  “Right,” he agrees. “We’re going to take it slow, teach her gradually, along with the other kids.”

  “What about my brother?” Penelope eyes crease with concern.

  Justin purses his lips, concentrates on turning the rabbit meat over to brown the other side. Aaron lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he grimaces, fighting to hold back the tears.

  “Doc is pretty upset about the lab,” Ian answers. “Life is going to be very different in Eden from here on out. He’s having a hard time coping.”

  Penelope nods. “Life is going to be very different everywhere.”

  “There’s no cure,” Justin says quietly. “We ruined Dad’s chance of finding one.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Penelope catches his eyes across the flames. “Keep in mind your father managed to create a Serum that allowed babies to shift. Which means he can easily extract it from those children and begin the process all over again. And if I know my brother as well as I think I do, I imagine he’s already thinking about it. Don’t underestimate him.”

  “We didn’t,” Justin answers with a shake of his head.

  Penelope tosses her gaze from Justin to Ian. “What do you mean?”

  Ian runs a hand through his hair and sits a little taller. “Those babies aren’t in Eden anymore.”

  “Is that so?” A slow smile seeps onto Penelope’s lips. “I have to say, boys, I’m quite impressed with all of you.” She casts a glance over the four of them. “You did something I should have done years ago. I just didn’t have your courage. I ran and hid away in a new life. Pretended Eden wasn’t running through my veins.” She pauses. “But clearly, it isn’t that simple.”

  “No,” Ian agrees. “It will never be simple. But at least we’ve made a difference for our children.”

  His eyes fall on me, and my cheeks flush with heat. I manage a weak smile.

  “Will there never be a cure then?” I ask.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Penelope leans back, clasping her hands. “David is a brilliant scientist. This will not stop his efforts. In fact, this will only push him to work harder. He will simply have to find a different path to the cure—one that is ethical, I hope.” She meets Justin’s eyes. “You were right to stop him.”

  “Sure.” Justin concentrates on lifting a rabbit from the fire. The juices drip into the flames with a sizzling splash and the aroma of sweet meat fills the quiet night. He breaks the tender pieces free and separates them among the plates Aaron hands him. “I just wish I didn’t feel like a traitor.”

  “When we left, Chairman Ryan was working out a treaty to present to General Berg to uphold the truce,” Ian says, taking a plate when Justin offers it. “It outlines that we aren’t the cause of the sickness and that we don’t have a cure for it.”

  “Which solves nothing,” Justin says. “Their babies will keep dying. So will ours. Everything was for nothing.”

  “Now listen up, boys.” Aaron pauses, a plate in midair. “We’ve lived with this plague for over one hundred years. Today is no different than yesterday in that regard. We may have suffered a bump, but it isn’t for nothing. You look deep enough, you’ll always find good intermingled with the tragedy.”

  “Like what?” Jesse tears a strip of meat from the bone and chews.

  “Without the lab, no more Cricket.” Max’s deep voice resonates out of him. Jesse puckers his bottom lip with a nod.

  “That’s good for my mom,” Sophia smiles shyly as she says it. She looks from Aaron to Claudia, clearly uncomfortable with the subject.

  “Sure,” Aaron nods, but there’s uneasiness in his eyes.

  We haven’t seen a single sign of Abigail. It’s as if she simply vanished, leaving her shack, her boiling pot, her entire life in Gaza behind. Everything except a clue as to where she may have gone. Tears glistening, Claudia stands abruptly, passing her plate to Aaron.

  “Where’s Thomas?” she asks.

  Aaron sighs, tossing his eyes over our small circle. “Who knows? That boy…”

  Claudia wipes at her eyes and stomps off across the dirt, disappearing into the shack next door—Abigail’s shack. She’s taken her sister’s disappearance the hardest of all. Silence follows until Jesse breaks it, smoothing over the awkwardness of the moment.

  “Well, we learned more about the Serum.” He shrugs and sinks his teeth into another piece of meat. “That’s a plus.”

  “True,” Ian agrees. “And . . .” He hesitates a moment. “I met God.”

  He fixes his eyes on me. I take his hand with a nod, but my heart wrenches with the news I have yet to deliver. but I connect with John across the fire. He is a picture of calm, the way he’s always been for me, and it settles my nerves. I take in a shallow breath, and focus on my food.

  Penelope balances her plate on her lap. “No matter how grim things may look, God has a plan that is bigger than our mess ups.” I redirect my eyes toward her, listening. “He already knows if there is a cure. He knows when it will be discovered and who will discover it. He knows every baby that will be born—which ones he will leave here, and which ones he will take back. He knows . . . and so, we don’t have to.”

  Our little circle grows quiet as each of us digests her words in our various measures of understanding.

  “He knows our futures, too,” Aaron adds. “We don’t have to be afraid because in Him, we have the ability to endure, even when it’s unbearably hard.”

  I swallow as his words penetrate my heart—as if they were meant solely for me—and I wonder if perhaps I let my plans slip out unknowingly. I glance at Ian, but his eyes are closed, his head down, and I know Aaron’s words have touched him, too. This life . . . it beat us up. It may continue to do so, pummeling our emotions that are already so full of bruises and healing scars. But I bring to mind the scripture in the book of Philippians that holds this truth:

  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

  My lips move silently with the words in my heart, and everything in me relaxes into this promise.

  For two days, I let Ian talk, tell me e
verything about the fight, destroying the Serum in the incinerator, his mom, his sister, the Set-Typhon’s role in the victory. He’s full of a new energy—a different kind of strength that lights his eyes and reflects in his voice. He vows that things will be different because this generation will make sure of it, and they will teach the next generation a better way. He will tell them about Yeshua. He will never stop telling them, even if they never believe. He talks, and I work up the courage to break his heart.

  We walk along the edge of the stream, hand in hand, but he stops beneath a drooping tree to face me, the Scriptures clutched in his grip. “Everything will be fine now. I can teach the guys how to control the Serum. Without a threat hanging over our heads, they’ll have time to learn and practice.”

  “They’re very fortunate to have you.”

  He tucks the Scriptures into his jacket.

  “I told my mom about you.”

  I lift my eyes, meet his piercing blue ones that have never ceased to stir me. “Did you?”

  “She wants to meet you.”

  I lick my lips, look away, but not before he senses my hesitation. His fingertips grace my skin, and he lifts my chin softly.

  “What is it, Kate?”

  I hold my breath, but my tears flood to the surface. His lifts his brows until they meet in the middle.

  “What, Kate?” His pulls me to him, his hand resting against the back of my head, and I sink my cheek into the familiar warmth of his chest. “Tell me.”

  “I’m going back.”

  I simply say it . . . as quickly as I can before my courage fails me again. He pulls away, catching my face in his hands.

  “Going back? What are you talking about?”

  I shake my head, wrapping my fingers around his wrists where they rest against my face.

  “John and I—we’ve decided. We’re going home.”

  He tilts his head—stunned—his mouth parting slightly as he tries to register what I’ve said.

  “Why?”

  He asks, but he already knows the answer. He releases me, runs both hands through his hair, clasps his fingers at the base of his neck, and tosses his face to the sky. A sigh rushes from his lungs, and he closes his uplifted eyes. He knows because it’s there in his heart, too, pressing to get out, to explode, to make a difference, to lend hope in a dying and hopeless world.

  Another minute passes.

  “When did you decide this?”

  “Just a few days ago,” I shrug, wring my hands. “Please understand . . . I fought this. From the moment this feeling came over me, that’s all I’ve done.”

  His tear-stained eyes pin me.

  “Then why go?” His voice is soft.

  I wipe at my tears. “Because I’m not sure I was ever supposed to have left.”

  He stares at me, unable to speak. I toy with the end of my braid nervously.

  “I’ve struggled over this for the longest time. Every day in the beginning, I wondered if I’d done the right thing. ”

  “They would have killed you if you’d stayed,” he reminds me. “You did the right thing.”

  “Would they have?” I shake my head. “I’m not so sure anymore. They aren’t the ones with the right to take my life.”

  He holds still, listening, so I continue.

  “But I don’t know if I was supposed to stay, either. Because I did leave, and my choice to do so led me to this place. And it was here—on this side of the river—that I found what I’ve been looking for all of my life. I am changed because of it.” I tilt my head with a sigh that begs him to understand. “Leaving my village did more than save my life. It saved my soul.”

  The splashing of the stream is the only sound. Ian places his hands on his hips and plants his feet firm, studying me. I lift my hands, let them fall to my sides again.

  “Ian, I know things that I didn’t know when I left. Things I feel obligated to share with my people. The other day, when Henry was born with that birthmark, I saw my calling clearly for the first time. I have never been more certain of anything. I am supposed to go back. To Mia, Tara, Anna Maria. They are my purpose.”

  He simply shakes his head, pain seared into his eyes so deeply I feel it cut into my heart. But I force myself to finish.

  “If I don’t go, how will they ever know? How can I not take the knowledge of the virus home to them? They need to know. And even more importantly, how can I hold the hope of God in my heart and not share it?”

  His tears magnify the blue of his eyes like waves on the ocean, and I step in close and take his hands.

  “Please don’t fight me.” My voice drips with my own pain.” I’m scared, but this is what I’m supposed to do. I know it. And I need you to be on my side.”

  “Kate.” He breathes my name like a desperate prayer, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, the tears standing in his eyes. “I don’t want this, but I’m always on your side.” He pauses, his lip trembling. “I’ve made too many decisions just like this one, so how could I beg you not to do this? I would be a hypocrite.”

  My own lip trembles in response, and Ian takes my face in his hands. His lips press in, warm and safe and familiar, and my tears come flowing down. He pulls back, rests his forehead against mine.

  “I can’t go with you,” he whispers. “Not right now. I have Ava to think about. And five babies who are going to need training like . . . soon. That’s going to be fun.”

  A soft laugh escapes him along with his familiar sarcasm, and I smile.

  “I know,” I sniffle, pressing in closer. He squeezes his eyes tight.

  “But I’ll come for you. The minute I can, I’ll be on your doorstep.”

  “I know that, too,” I smile. “And I’ll be waiting.”

  He drops his head before peering at me again, his lashes moist with tears, his voice cracking.

  “How can I live without you, Kate?”

  My breath eases out in a bubbling hiccup. I run my hand through his hair. “You can live without me because I’m not the one who sustains your life.”

  He takes in a hard breath that vibrates deep in his chest, and he nods, biting his lip. I peer into his eyes until he takes me up into his arms. My feet leave the ground, and we’re crying together. I press my face into the warm curve of his neck.

  “We’ll be together again—in this life or the next. Or both. Because that’s the beauty of forever; it’s our gift from God.”

  “You, Kate,” he whispers, squeezing me closer. “You are my favorite gift from God.”

  I nod, unable to speak, because he’s said enough for both of us. He drops me to my feet, keeping his arms around me.

  “You do what you have to do. Don’t be scared,” he whispers. His lips brush my cheek. “Remember He is with us. He is always with us.”

  “Always.”

  We sink to the ground right there in front of the stream, but we are filled with peace. For the first time in our lives, we are sure of the path set before us, even though it leads us away from each other for a time. He has his mission; I have mine.

  Our faith in God is young, still in its infancy where it nestles in our hearts. But I trust it. I trust it enough to let it carry me all the way back to the Village. And Ian trusts it. He trusts it enough to let me go so that he can concentrate on what God has in store for him. Penelope once told me that is exactly what faith is. To be persuaded that something is already true with a guarantee that you can trust it. Her words resonate with me, and I understand now. The empty ache that lived with me for most of my youth is finally gone. Faith filled it up with the one true answer, and I will never be void again.

  Our journey has been long and difficult. It has been filled with pain and fear and hope in varying measures. It has given me knowledge and made me strong. It has changed Ian into someone I will be proud to spend my life loving. Above all, it allowed us to see who we really are, and who we can be in the arms of God. And it’s only the beginning.

  Speaking of beginnings, after Claudia told me the
story of creation, I read about the first people to grace the earth. Ironically, the first love story—the story that created the foundation of every other human love story to follow—involved a boy from Eden. God made his heart beat an eternal rhythm for one girl. Flesh of his flesh. Bone of his bone.

  The beauty of this image moved me. It has stayed with me like no other. It also left me with a promise etched so deep in my heart that even death could not remove it. A promise of Ian and I—the breeder and her archer—tucked away for eternity in the arms of our Savior.

  Forever is a very long time to love.

  I’m looking forward to it.

  Are you dying to see what happens

  when Kate returns to the Village?

  Are you longing for Kate and Ian

  to be reunited in this life?

  Do you ever wonder what life was

  like for John before he lost his tongue?

  Will Diana's baby live?

  Will Eden rebuild?

  Will there ever be a cure?

  And what about Mia? What has she been up to?

  You're in luck because

  the story isn't over!

  Coming Summer 2016

  The Scent of Lilac

  An Arrow's Flight Novella

  Volume #1

  Acknowledgments

  Writing this series has equally been one of the most wonderful and difficult experiences of my life, and I am grateful for every minute of it. It is quite a feat to incorporate the Gospel into a Dystopian novel, and I doubted my ability to deliver the message with justice many times. But as Kate and Ian journeyed toward salvation, my family, friends, and readers encouraged me to finish their story. I thank you all for your patience as I worked this little tale out, and I hope it is everything you imagined it would be.

  Thank you Father in Heaven for keeping me on this earth long enough to finish the series. It has been my one request, and I hope my efforts bring glory to You alone.