The Wanted (The Woodlands Series Book 4)

by Lauren Nicolle Taylor

I didn’t need to hear that. “Is it because of what he did?” I asked, my heart pounding, shock waves running through me as the hours spent watching video after video of Joseph killing those soldiers rose like magic ink in my brain.

  Deshi’s eyes bugged out in a surprise and for a second, his mouth hung open. It was very unlike him and he quickly composed himself.

  “You know what he did?” he asked, his voice high and cracked.

  “Please, don’t tell him,” I pleaded. “Part of my tort… I mean, interrogations, was watching the surveillance from that night. I saw myself… dying.” I kind of gulped dryly at the memory. It was physical, running through me like the knife that killed me. “And I saw what Joseph did after. They showed it to me… a lot.”

  Deshi sighed. “Oh…” There it was again. That beat of silence like there was a missing word lying flat on his tongue. “Jesus, Rosa, that’s horrible.”

  I nodded, trying to slow my breath and stop the shaking. Joseph walked towards us, a determined look on his face. He stomped through the grass loudly, and I wondered what his father had said.

  I whispered to Deshi as he gripped both my wrists reassuringly. “I know what he’s like, I know he’s probably been beating himself up about what he did, but he didn’t have a choice. He would have died.”

  Deshi let me go as Joseph brushed through the spindly trees bordering the chopper. Ice crept up their trunks and froze their shoulders. I breathed in the smell of icy pine and smoldering fires as if it were a drug I couldn’t get enough of.

  “You’re just going to have to talk to him,” Deshi said with urgency winding round and round his voice.

  I bowed my head. The words how and when pushed their way out of the dirt like spring flowers at my feet.

  “What are you two talking about?” Joseph smiled, and the sun peeked out between his lips.

  I tried it out; I let the golden rays hit my face and warm me.

  “You,” I teased. Something like panic and fear swept across his face like a breeze, and then it was gone. “It’s okay. Nothing bad,” I said, my hands up in defense.

  “Nothing bad, man.” Deshi backed me up.

  Denis poked his head out of the cabin. “Are you ready to leave?”

  I jumped, feeling on edge. “Is Rosa-May still with Pelo?” I asked Joseph.

  “She is. Are you sure you want to bring her?” He brought a hand to my hair, and I felt like I might cry because there was air and awkwardness between us. His touch was comfort and heartbreak. It reminded me of things I’d lost, and it brought me back home.

  “I’m not leaving her behind. I’m all she has.” I set my mouth.

  He grinned. “So I have a daughter now?”

  I laughed at his acceptance, his readiness to let Rosa-May into our family.

  “Well, technically, she’s sort of like your sister-in-law. Is that right, Matthew?”

  Matthew handed me a sack full of food and smirked. “I don’t think there’s a traditional word that fits your situation. All I know is, she’s lucky to have you both.”

  The others gathered around to say goodbye. Gwen knocked my shoulder and whispered, “Good luck.”

  Everyone exchanged looks as the blades began to churn and distort the air and words became too difficult. Deshi slapped Elise on the back, rather hard, and she pursed her lips at him before breaking into a stunning smile directed at Joseph and me.

  Pelo handed me Rosa-May and yelled to me, “I want to come with you.”

  I shook my head. He was needed here.

  Jonathan and Steph held hands and waved to their son. When Steph’s eyes caught mine, they narrowed suspiciously. I got the feeling I wasn’t what she’d hoped for as a match for her son.

  The air buzzed. Joseph grabbed my waist and hoisted me into the chopper, bending his head and following me inside. Deshi strode to the co-pilot chair and strapped himself in, busily connecting my handheld to the choppers’ navigational system. I strapped Rosa-May in, her face flushed and confused. I wished there was more I could do for her, a way to explain. The craft rattled and did a one-legged dance as it jerkily lifted into the air.

  Joseph closed the door and fell into the seat next to me, strapping himself in just as the craft became airborne. I wanted to say, Remember the last time we were together in one of these? But no words came. I was overwhelmed with the memories of our past. They hit me fast like rocks spitting up into a windshield. Fear of what was ahead, excitement at leaving home and Paulo behind, and an aching for my mother. But all of those memories paled to one—Joseph’s hand over mine like a golden barrier, shutting out all my harried thoughts and warming me to my spindly core.

  This was where we started. This was how we spread out over the wilderness, a thousand stretching strands. So many plotted points, missed and taken, that brought us right up to now.

  His ribs nudged my side as his chest expanded with deep breaths next to me. I put my hand over his and curled my thin fingers over his tensed knuckles like a cage. We watched the people turn to ants and the forest swallow them whole.

  Deshi pointed north and we swung around in an arc, the edge of Pau Brazil just visible. Concrete, I once thought impenetrable, was cracked and spilling into the grass.

  ROSA

  Denis and Deshi chatted happily in the cockpit because they had those headphone things on. It was as noisy as a windstorm in the back, the blades ricocheting off the low clouds like they were made of rubber. Silence suited us anyway. After we found Orry, we were going to have to find time to talk. Just not now.

  Rosa-May’s head lolled against my ribs. She’d slept for hours. I wished I could do the same. I sighed and looked down at our hands lying over each other’s like soft blankets. Calming.

  I turned to the window and felt Joseph staring at me. But I liked being under his gaze, so I didn’t move my head for fear he’d look away.

  Below, the wilderness stretched endlessly. Creeping up with fronded fingers as we ascended into the mountains. I chewed on my nails as I willed the chopper to move faster.

  The chopper dipped suddenly, and we all gripped our harnesses as we flew out of our seats.

  “We need to land!” Denis shouted over his shoulder.

  It lurched and dove as if it were sitting in a sea storm. My stomach floated along with it. Finally, it touched down awkwardly in a tiny patch of wild grass surrounded by trees.

  When it was quieter, Denis removed his headphones and explained. “The battery is flat. It needs to charge for the rest of the day. We’ll have to… camp?” He said it like a question, like he’d never used the word before.

  The blades slowed, and we unclipped our harnesses. Joseph stood and stretched his back, raising his arms up to the ceiling and pushing on it. I bit my lip while I watched his arms flex.

  His eyes twinkled as they gazed at the sleeping child at my side. Gently, he unbuckled her harness and scooped her into his arms, her dark hair splaying out behind her head as it swayed from side to side with his movements.

  We shuffled out of the chopper and as soon as my feet crunched the earth, I felt small. The forests around the settlements were lush, dominating, but new. This world was old. The trees were elders, their gnarled, enormous trunks scored with age and experience. The air had a cold quiet about it, like through the gaps in the trees, eyes were watching us. I jogged to one of the trunks, hopping over ferns and mossy plants. Joseph’s chuckle pulsed through the air in fresh waves. My hand connected with the immense bark, deep cracks running through it like river canyons.

  “Wow!” I said in awe as I craned my neck to stare up the branches spinning out and up, up, up.

  Both Deshi and Joseph laughed.

  Denis asked, confused, “What on earth is she doing?”

  Joseph answered. “This is like Rosa’s idea of heaven.”

  I wanted to press my whole existence to the trunk and hug it. It felt like it had been years since I was in the forest, even though it had only been about a month. One month of people trying to pu
ll my spirit from my body. I rubbed my face on the mossy bark and breathed in the pungent smell of rotted wood.

  Deshi coughed. “Ok, now you’re just being weird. Did that tree give you consent?”

  I blushed and stepped back. Under the cover of the immense canopy, the air was warmer. We were protected from the wind and the sprinklings of snow. I gazed up at the small patch of winter-white sky. Unfortunately, we were also hidden from the sun.

  “How’s it going to charge?” I asked, pointing at the leaves above. The whole clearing was in shadow.

  Denis stared at the soggy ground, not quite sure which way to go. He decided to stand still. “Someone has to climb up there with the panels,” he said, pointing to a tree behind us. The branches were slightly lower but still really high.

  Joseph balanced carefully on a stone, with a sleeping Rosa-May still in his arms. “Of course,” he grumbled. “Maybe we should make the Superior’s son climb up there.” His was voice terse with aggravation.

  Denis’ face registered alarm at the suggestion.

  “I would,” he mumbled, “but I’m injured. Besides, I think we all know who has to go.” His eyes swung to me, my moss-stained hands clasped behind my back.

  I would have volunteered anyway.

  “Is there any point in saying no?” Joseph asked, his hair shielding me from his annoyed eyes.

  I shook my head. “Nope. You ready to throw me?” I needed Joseph to hoist me into the branches. I was smallest and lightest. It made sense that it should be me. He groaned in response.

  Denis backed into the chopper like the squidgy ground scared him and sat on the edge, unraveling the wire that connected the batteries in the chopper to the foldout solar panels beside him. Deshi held out his arms for Rosa-May. Her body was still slack with exhaustion, and I started to wonder if maybe she didn’t want to wake up. When she opened her eyes, she would be met with more strange places and missing faces. I understood that feeling. Joseph handed her to Deshi.

  Denis leaned over me, showing me how to unfold the panels and where to plug the wire in while Joseph hovered. Then, he rolled them up and put both in a backpack.

  I took off my jacket, shoved my overlong sleeves to my elbows, and marched to the tree behind the chopper.

  “You ready?” Joseph asked, his green eyes pulsing gold, his eyebrows drawn together in worry.

  “It’s fine. It should be easy,” I replied, knowing nothing ever was.

  He grabbed me under the arms and lifted me onto his shoulders.

  I ran my fingers through his curls briefly before placing my hands on the trunk to balance and standing up on his shoulders.

  “You’re lighter,” he remarked.

  “She never ate much,” Denis said, and Joseph turned suddenly.

  My hands scraped down the bark, and I nearly fell backwards before he grabbed my legs. “Sorry.”

  The rich food they’d offered me had often made me sick. I ran a hand down my hip and noticed the sharpness of it, the way it almost pierced my skin. Was that why Joseph was being so careful with me? Did I look frail to him?

  I glanced down at Joseph’s head. His shirt flapped open and a series of scars running down his chest shocked me. Another thing to ask about.

  “The food was fatty and gross,” I snapped in Denis’ direction. I reached out for the lower branch, but I couldn’t quite reach it. “Throw me,” I said to Joseph.

  He put both hands under my butt, counted, “One, two, three,” and hurled me at the branch. I got my arms around it and scrambled against the trunk with my legs until I was up.

  “You okay?” Joseph shouted breathlessly, staring at me from below.

  “All good!” I said.

  I tucked my hair behind my ears, it swung back out, and I climbed.

  Each brush of leaves raises my skin. Each crumble of bark beneath my fingertips brings me closer. I’m climbing to the sky, yet I feel closer to home than ever.

  The air cooled as I ascended. The old tree’s branches were so thick and sturdy it was an easy climb. Soon, I was in the canopy watching Joseph pace anxiously below.

  Breathing in the frosted air, I let it woo me. I let it rescue me from the disasters, the wounding memories, and let my mind empty. The breeze crackled through my head and blew out the musty corners. They were huddled stubbornly and not easily moved.

  Carefully, I unfolded the panels and nestled them in a branch that caught the sun, even in this late afternoon. I plugged the wire in and let it drop to the forest floor.

  I straddled a branch and waited. Waited for the wind to pick me up and take me away, waited for the unease in me to blister and pop. I waited until someone yelled for me to get down.

  Climbing down was harder. I was descending into a darker world and my eyes took time to adapt. That, and my feet were reaching out blindly, searching for branches, scraping the air sometimes and slipping.

  Joseph swore as I reached the last few branches.

  “You’re nearly there,” he said nervously, his hands out in front, ready to catch me. Taking the last branch slowly, my feet slipped on the slimy moss. I let go of the branch above to grab the next one when Rosa-May screamed. My limbs jerked in surprise, and I fell.

  It was only a few meters but those seconds felt unending. My arms flailed up, still reaching for something to hold onto. My mouth clamped shut, my eyes scrunched tight, and I landed with a thump. Strong hands gripped my bare back.

  I opened my eyes, my lips forming the words thank you, but rendered mute. Joseph’s face was white, his freckles standing out strongly against his horrified expression. His thumb brushed the ropey scar across my stomach like a kiss. A terrifying kiss. And then he dropped me to my feet, my shirt falling back into place. I gripped the material in my fist, tears scraping at my eyes like thorns. I didn’t understand his reaction.

  He stared, his eyes wide but looking right through me. As he backed away, his head sweeping back and forth, he muttered, “I can’t,” before he turned and stormed into the forest.

  Maybe I should have left him, but I couldn’t stand the look on his face. I couldn’t leave it like that and not try to change it. I chased after him, leaving Deshi attempting to calm Rosa-May and Denis standing still as a statue, so out of place in this world that he might have been one of Grant’s garden sculptures.

  ROSA

  Deshi shouted at me as I reached the tree line. “Rosa, take this.” He threw me a pack. When I shot him a confused look, he added, “Just in case.” I didn’t like the expression on his face. It was unfamiliar, frightening, because it was mix of disappointment and regret. It hit me like a plank peppered with nails because it wasn’t directed at me. His disappointment was in Joseph.

  Joseph’s blond head bobbed through the trees, the distance between us stretching long as a highway. I called out to him, which spurred him on. Was he running away from me? It was a terrifying thought, which I shoved down as I picked my way over the dense vegetation. Shadows wrapped around every plant, trapping them in the dirt. The sun split its way between the trunks of the great trees as I used them to support me, warning me night was coming.

  While I was staring at the sky, I lost him. Suddenly alone, with the dark, dank forest pressing around me, I shivered for fear of finding him. Because I felt there was a slimy, threatening truth waiting for me when I did.

  My hands scraped along the slick trunks, the bark so large I could sink my whole hand between the gaps of the trees skin. Wrinkled like an old woman. Like Addy. God, I missed her advice. Her humor.

  My breath formed mist that hung in the air too long. My sighs were heavy clouds floating to the sky. I paused at a tree, bracing my arm against it as my eyes ran in vast semicircles, sweeping the terrain in front.

  Tree, tree, bush, tree split down the middle, Joseph, tree.

  He sat restlessly, head down, leaning against the trunk of a stout tree plucked clean of leaves like a bird for the oven. It was dwarfed by the giants around us and by his own size. It reminded me of wh
en I’d found him at the Classes, just before my assessment, talking to himself, huddled awkwardly under a Pau Brazil tree. It was a conversation he later explained as him choosing to tell me how he really felt.

  It was too late then. It was not like that now.

  He heard my foot suck out of the mud with a slurping sound. He looked up, and his face was a battering ram pushing me back. His eyes, the color of the bright green moss that crept up every trunk, were washed with a deep sadness. He was truly unhappy to see me. My heart tore like paper. Just a small edge at the bottom, which if he didn’t explain himself, would rip all the way up.

  His head dropped down again and I stopped, midstride, several meters from where he sat, afraid to approach and equally afraid to walk away.

  I brought my legs together and took one more timid step towards him. My eyes never left his hidden face, hair curtaining his eyes as he hung his head between his knees like it was just too heavy to hold up. A strand of blackberry dragged across my face as I said, “Joseph, why are you running away from me? Ouch!” I lifted my hand to my cheek, a small stain of red coloring my fingers. The branch stuck in my hair. I tried to move forward and couldn’t. Putting my hands up to my head, I attempted to pull it out, only to tangle it further.

  Joseph stood up and sighed in exasperation. Was he sick of me?

  “It doesn’t matter what I do. I’m always hurting you.” His voice plummeted like a stone dropped down an endless abyss. There was more regret than I could understand in there. He came closer and helped me pull the thorns from my hair.

  As we stood chest to chest, I gazed up into his face. “That’s not true.” My own voice wavered like a feather tossed down the same abyss. Falling, but slower, hoping the wind might still pick me up and save me.

  “Look,” he said, running a finger under my eye and holding it in front of my face like proof. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s nothing,” I whispered, knocking his hand away and forcing a smile.

  He exhaled through his nose in frustration. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Nothing compared to what I have done, to what I’m going to do.” His sarcasm was pointed and tipped in bitterness.