by Trisha Leigh
“We wanted to help,” Leah adds lamely.
“It’s okay.” I step between Brittany and her view, and watch her visibly shake herself back into the moment. “There isn’t anything we can do for the people inside. Pax and Deshi were just about to take Laura back and tell everyone what happened. Lucas and I are going to gather some supplies and meet you there so we can figure out where to go next.”
Brittany nods like a robot, then turns her back on the cabin. Even though she and Leah have handled all of this weirdness without a misstep until now, Brittany looks like she’s about to lose it.
We can’t baby her right now, though. Once the Wardens report their findings to the Prime, they’ll be back. We’re far too close for comfort, and it’s time to figure out the extent of our joined abilities. Hopefully it involves a way to get everyone safely away from here.
“Go, you guys. We’ll see you in ten minutes.”
They listen to me this time, and even though tears glisten in Brittany’s eyes, she straightens her shoulders and they all disappear into the Wilds.
“Do you know where we’re supposed to meet them?” Lucas raises tired eyebrows at me.
“Yeah. Pax and I met Greer there once. It’s where she told us the story about that Wild Bill guy.”
“The one who died with the dead man’s hand.” Lucas smiles, but it falls away before it can pinch a dimple.
“Aces and eights. That stupid story.” For some reason the memory of that night on Mount Rushmore, with Pax and the two of us unharmed and full of tenuous hope, clogs my chest and throat with heavy wetness.
That was before all of these kids were unveiled or agreed to be part of this insane plot to take back the planet from Others who are stronger, better unified, and more prepared than we are. It was before so many of us died. We’re still better off than we were then, I remind myself. Deshi’s on our side. There are seventeen of us, not three. There’s hope that the Sidhe have survived and will find a way to contact us.
Lucas puts an arm around my waist and pulls me tight, and we walk that way back to the porch, then inside the cabin. We ignore the bodies as best as we can while we stuff canned goods, water bottles, blankets, can opener, and our few tattered personal belongings into four duffel bags. We take as much as we can reasonably carry, since there are more of us now.
When I walk out of the pantry, something looks different. It takes me a moment of staring to figure out what it is, and then it hits me. There were no bodies in the kitchen before, but now there’s a bloodied arm draped across the threshold from the living room. Then the fingers twitch and dig fruitlessly into the cracked linoleum.
“Lucas!” I yell, taking two huge steps to the doorway, letting some heat build in my center in case it’s a Warden springing back to life after my pyro show earlier.
But it’s not an Other. It’s not Greer, either, which was my secret hope. Lucas crashes to a stop beside me and we stare down at a thin girl with brown hair, bangs hanging in her dark eyes.
Tears well as she tries and fails to sit. “Don’t leave me.”
My memory searches for her name and to my surprise, comes up with it: Katie. Another Des Moines girl. A quick once-over reveals blood matting the hair on the back of her neck and one wrist hanging at an unnatural angle. Her good arm, though bloody, wraps around her midsection. “Katie, right?”
She nods, then winces.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.” She tries a laugh, but it turns into a gasp of pain. “My leg, my rib cage, my wrist, my head.”
“We’re not going to leave you, Katie, but we do need to get out of here.” Lucas bends, wraps his arms around her, and hauls her to her feet.
It’s going to complicate things, seeing how we’ve got bags of supplies to carry and now a girl who’s taller than I expect who can’t walk without help. But she’s alive. One more person that we’re not responsible for killing.
Yet.
I sling one of the heavy duffels onto my back like a Cell backpack and a second over my shoulder. My free arm goes around Katie, taking much of her weight, and we struggle toward the front door. Lucas leads the way, stooped under two bags on each shoulder, and the twenty-minute walk to the graveyard takes almost an hour.
We find Pax and Deshi pacing outside the biggest tomb, Wolf bounding in circles around them. I pass Katie to Lucas and drop to my knees at the sight of my dog. “Wolf!”
He leaps into my arms, knocking me back against the grass and bumping my head against Lucas’s shin, but it doesn’t even hurt. The slobbery kisses he wipes across my face are the most disgusting and welcome signs of affection ever. The first genuine happiness I’ve felt all day lifts my lips into a smile and I bury my face in his scruff, breathing in the musky, dirty scent of him.
When I get to my feet, I see that the rest of the kids are sitting or standing around the cemetery. They’re relatively clean and unharmed, especially compared to the ones left behind, but fear and grief pinch their faces. No one has been spared loss today, and even though I didn’t know most of those kids all that well, I feel the absence of Greer deep in my bones.
I even miss Griffin’s arrogant grin.
“Hey,” Pax says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “We’ve been trying to keep everyone calm. For the most part they’re doing as well as can be expected. No one’s lost it yet.”
“Katie!” a scratchy, tear-filled voice chokes out. I turn to see Laura limp across the grass, stepping carefully around tombstones.
She takes Katie’s weight from Lucas and they hug. It’s like our own personal little miracle that the one person Laura was looking for is the single girl left alive when we went back. In spite of everything, it makes me smile, and wedges support under my wobbling conviction. We lost people today, but there are more left. This isn’t over.
“We need to talk to them. Find out how many are going to come with us when we leave for… wherever.” Lucas shifts from foot to foot, having dropped his heavy burdens in a heap in the grass.
Huge trees—so many types I can’t name them all—surround us, fanning the breeze through the afternoon in quiet breaths. They shade this place of remembrance and death, alternating spots of shadows and light fluttering across our faces. It’s afternoon but the sun still hovers; we have hours of daylight still. Brilliant green patches of grass sprout among the weathered headstones, fighting for space among the purple and yellow wildflowers that tangle in pretty clusters.
I step toward where most of the kids have settled against the fence that once protected the final resting place of Wild Bill Hickock. Everyone stops muttering and turns to face us—me, Lucas, Pax, Deshi, and Leah—where we stand together.
The two injured girls are getting bandaged as well as possible with strips of clothing and string, and each have more color than they did when we found them. Pax is going to need to take a look at Katie’s wrist and maybe her leg, which she’s still not putting any weight on. Maybe someone else’s parents were Healers, too, and they can help him decide what to do.
“We’re sorry about what happened. None of us knew it was coming until there wasn’t time to stop it, or to get everyone out. We will tell you what we do know about how it happened, but first we need to get farther away from here.” I struggle to keep my voice steady, to not show them how afraid I am that they’re all going to turn and run.
“Why? Haven’t they already done all the damage they can?” The question comes from a tall, blond boy toward the back.
I recognize him because he’s from Danbury; he was friends with Greg. “Not all, Phil. We’re still alive. Once the Wardens report to the Prime what they found here, and that the four of us showed up to try to stop it, you can bet they’ll be back.”
“Where can we go?”
“How will we survive out here alone?”
“They’re going to find us, anyway, why not just turn ourselves in and beg for mercy?”
Their voices mash and swirl together, pounding in my skull
until they’re mixed into a stew of hopeless chatter. Pax looks at my face and then holds up one hand, using the other to let loose a piercing whistle. Wolf jerks to the side, giving Pax what would be a dirty look if he were human.
“How’d you do that?” Lucas asks, eyes wide and impressed.
It’s weird, the way even though you know people, they can still surprise you.
“Griffin taught me.” Pax winks at me, then faces the waiting group. “I don’t know everything. None of us does, but the four of us have seen things you guys haven’t, and I promise you this—the Others will kill you if they find you in the Wilds. They have no qualms about extinguishing people who don’t act according to their plan, and right now that includes you.”
“If you come with us, we’ll try to keep you safe,” Lucas continues, as though they’ve somehow worked this out ahead of time. “But not one of us, or anyone else on Earth, is going to be really safe until we finish what we started.”
“We have to find a way to get rid of them and going back to the Sanctioned Cities isn’t an option,” I say softly. “Nothing has changed.”
Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say, since earlier today everything changed for the twenty or so kids who will never breathe again, but it’s still true.
The kids remain silent for a long time. Some of them stare at the ground, others off into the sky or the trees, and a few try to gauge their friends’ reactions through eye contact. I expect it to be Brittany who makes the decision, but instead it’s the girl I left in charge in Danbury all those weeks ago—Jordan.
Her long brown hair shifts in the fragrant breeze, and she holds it back with a hand, picking her way through the headstones to the five of us. She turns without a word, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Brittany comes next, pressing close to Leah as though she’s afraid she’ll disappear again. In the end, everyone’s still on our side, even after today.
“So, where are we going?” Jordan asks, still pinching her hair into a ponytail.
I realize they’ve left their things at the cabin. It’s too risky to go back now, so they’ll have to make do with the clothes and supplies Lucas and I grabbed. Most of them wear shorts and T-shirts paired with tennis shoes, which should be fine.
My mind shifts through possible answers to the question. Lucas and Pax are silent, too, but after a minute, Deshi pipes up. “We just need to pick a direction and go. They don’t have enough manpower to search everywhere, and we’ll be far enough away before they realize there were more of us left behind.”
“Plus, they only know for sure the four of us are still alive, and they’d expect us to travel, not walk,” Pax adds.
We’re underestimating the Others. “They’ll search. And they’ll find our tracks. Even if we leave now, we’re only going to end up with a day’s head start—maybe. And they’ve got riders.”
“I don’t know how to fix that problem, but I think we should head south.” Brittany pulls her braid in front of her mouth, poking her shredded lips with the end.
Everyone turns to look at her, surprised at her opinion. She drops her braid and rolls her eyes, standing up straighter. It’s a relief to see the reemergence of this strong, often impatient girl. We’re all counting on her to hold it together.
“We can’t run forever,” she continues. “And obviously we can’t hide, either. We need to spend the next month figuring out how to attack them, and once we do, I know where to wage that battle. We need to go to Dallas.”
“What’s Dallas?” I ask, realizing too late that it must be another city and that I’m the only one who’s never heard of it.
Lucas squeezes my hand. “That’s where they hold the Summer Celebration.”
Chapter 24.
“Wait.” It frustrates me, being behind, and I need to catch up. “They don’t hold the Summer Celebration in a Sanctioned City?”
Pax shakes his head. “No, it’s always in Dallas. I don’t know why.”
“It’s supposed to be exciting, to reinforce that it’s a nice thing the Others do for us once a year,” Deshi grinds out, his jaw clenched.
“It’s genius,” Lucas tells Brittany. “All the Others will be there, except maybe the ones at the Harvest Site. And the humans will be in one place for unveiling.”
“Everyone will be in one place if things go badly, too,” I remind them. It’s smart, and going on the offensive is unexpected, but putting everyone on Earth in the middle of this fight thrums anxiety through my heart.
Lucas holds my gaze in his as gently as his hands have ever touched me. “Things are going to go badly regardless. And what’s the difference if we die fighting or die when the Others leave? We’re all in the middle, and there’s nowhere else to go.”
“I agree with Lucas,” Leah interjects.
When I look up, the rest of the kids are nodding, their faces set with grim determination.
“We need a plan, though. We can’t be caught unaware again. This time we do the surprising.” It’s Laura now, and after a moment, everyone is murmuring ideas back and forth.
Pax whistles again, bringing silence back to the graveyard. “Yes, good. But we still need to leave. Now.”
“Wait,” I say quietly. “One more thing.”
I rummage in one of the bags until I find a notebook and a pen.
“What are you doing?” a tall thin boy with a crop of long curls asks. The seriousness in his face doesn’t seem at home there, as though he’d rather be laughing.
“What’s your name?”
“Christian. What are you doing?” he asks again.
I take a deep breath, willing my voice to stay steady. “A bunch of our friends died today. This is a cemetery. We should… they need to be laid to rest before we leave. We may never be back here.”
“What do you mean, ‘laid to rest’?” Jordan presses.
“I’m going to write down everyone’s names. There should be twenty-six. We can remember them all, together.” I pause, swallowing hard. “I’ll start. My friends Monica and Val, from Portland.”
I try to write down their names but my fingers shake too hard. Lucas takes the pen from me, his cool hand covering mine for a brief second before he starts writing. Everyone calls out names and he scribes them until there are twenty-six. Twenty-six people dead, because they helped us. Or tried to.
The names melt into the air, diffusing onto the breeze. It’s almost as though they belong to this graveyard now, too, as much a part of the air and earth as Wild Bill and all the rest.
Brittany returns to my side; I hadn’t even noticed she’d left. She hands me a heavy rock—smooth gray mottled with white and black flecks—and gives me a rueful smile. “Leave the list under it so the paper won’t blow away.”
Tears fill my eyes, and as I find enough bravery to search the faces of those who are left, their grief meets my gaze. There is also determination, though, and anger. We will say good-bye, and then we will leave the dead here and move on with the living.
I set the list of names down on Calamity Jane’s headstone, the heavy rock trapping the paper against the sun-faded surface. A warm breeze ruffles the edges, kissing my cheeks with warmth, giving the impression that someone or something unseen offers comfort. It makes me smile, and for a few moments all of us enjoy the quiet afternoon.
“The sun is setting, which means we need to keep it on our right to go south. Let’s get started.” Brittany starts walking, and as it’s always been, more follow her.
Pax, Lucas, and Deshi take three of the duffel bags, and three boys stop to take the rest. One is Phil, the other two—a blond and a brunet—remain nameless as they shoulder the heavy bags and fall in line.
The four of us stay in the rear, partly because it’s the best position to defend from if the Wardens show up, and partly so we can talk. Wolf pads at my side, leaving every once in a while to nose Pax’s or Lucas’s hands. He’s even checked on Deshi a couple of times, reinforcing my belief that we can trust him. Leah and Brittany walk toward the
front, heads bent together. They look as though they’re catching up, probably swapping stories about everything that’s happened to them since they were separated last spring.
“We need to take some precautions. Althea, you and I are the best at navigating the Wilds, so I think we should be the ones to do it.” Pax doesn’t stop walking or look my direction, but we all hear him.
“What kind of precautions?” Lucas growls.
I put a hand on his arm and give a light squeeze. “Stop.”
I catch a funny glance shot our way by Deshi, and I wonder how weird it is for him, stepping into these established dynamics. Whether he worries about our stability or knows that if we argue or fight it doesn’t mean any of us are going to bail out.
Pax rolls his eyes and elbows Deshi in the ribs. “Lucas is a little over protective of Althea.”
“Althea can take care of herself,” Deshi adds helpfully.
“I know that, you guys. I do. I’m sorry if the thought of losing her makes me want to die. If I can make sure that doesn’t happen, that’s what I’m going to do. Pax, please start talking again so that I can stop babbling.” Lucas presses his lips together in a thin line, his face paler than normal.
I slip my hand into his and rub my thumb over his smooth skin. It can be exasperating, his instinct to try to block me from harm, but it also warms me. An echoing sentiment tugs at my heart, at my ability to breathe, when I imagine finding Lucas dead at the hands of the Others.
I never thought the kind of desperate love that fills me at being near him, at the whisper of a chance at a future together, would belong to me. Now that it does, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep him safe.
“Deshi’s right about the Others tracking us. We need to do what we can to throw them off. We know they can communicate at great distances, and their whole mind-control thing. Super strength, damn near invincibility. Is there anything we don’t know, Desh? Anything that’s going to increase their odds of finding us out here?” Pax’s voice is all business now, clipped and serious.