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What Tomorrow May Bring

Page 79

by Tony Bertauski


  Looking down at Eddie’s covered body, I felt my stomach knot. “We can’t just leave him here,” I said, my voice almost begging.

  “We have to,” Reed answered softly, tucking the gun into the back of his pants. “We don’t have time to take him with us, or bury him.” Reed glanced up at the sky a moment, then looked back to me and smiled. “Eddie would understand.”

  I nodded. Took Reed’s hand. He squeezed my fingers gently, then pulled me to his side as we started down the deserted road.

  | | |

  We walked for a good hour. The town had disappeared some time ago, turning slowly into houses that lined the road, covered in forgotten dust. I expected at any moment to hear the wail of police cars, the shots of guns as they found us. I glanced over my shoulder, anticipating the flash of the lights as they bore us down. Everything remained calm and quiet. No one was anywhere in sight except for Reed and me.

  The whale on top of the house spun slightly in the breeze. Reed and I stopped at the open gate, staring up at the house. Though it didn’t seem nearly as huge as the house back at the Orchard, it was still large. A porch wrapped around the entire house, the corners covered in spider webs and debris. All of the windows were tightly boarded over. Even the door had nails driven into its hinges. No one was going in.

  I pictured Jude as a young boy, his smile huge on his face, as he jumped around on the open deck. I could almost see him as he laughed and sang, disappearing around the corner to run down to the beach. I imagined him standing in front of the huge Wall, his young eyes following it up to the sky, the sound of the waves on the other side singing to him.

  Following the ghost of a memory, I stepped up onto the deck. The boards creaked under my feet. With Reed close at my side, I made my way around the corner. Every window we passed had been boarded tight some time ago. Though the outside of the house had been worn and damaged from weather, I knew that inside was a tomb of a life long since abandoned.

  I reached forward and trailed my fingers along one of the boarded windows, paint chipping away under my touch. Memories of Jude flashed in my mind. He had been my friend. One of my only friends. I knew he was safe, his job and money protecting him in this dangerous world. Still, something inside ached strangely for his easy smile and musical voice.

  “Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better…” I softly sang the words to the song lost in my memory, my voice cracking with the paint that fell to the old porch below.

  Reed softly laid his hand on my shoulder. I leaned into it, letting his warmth fill me. I stared at the window a moment longer. Then, nodding once, I let Reed lead me around the last corner of the house.

  We stopped dead in our tracks. There, only a few steps from the back porch, rose the Wall. Bushes and over grown flower beds covered what remained of the yard, scattered with weeds and fallen leaves. A cobbled path wound away from the steps, leading straight to the Wall.

  Reed carefully walked down the steps, his hand lowering to wrap around mine. I followed him, glad to let someone else lead. I felt as if I were in a trance. No fog taunted me. No angry noise filled my ears. Instead, everything seemed as if a window had finally been opened. The light glittered, the edges of every object now detailed and sharp.

  We walked down the cobbled path, our eyes glued to the Wall. The path ended abruptly, disappearing into the Wall. There was nothing there. Just the solid wall, not a crack or dent in sight.

  “Where’s the door?” Reed asked, his voice low.

  I pulled the key from my shirt and stared at it. The sea glass glowed in the morning light. “It has to be here.”

  Reed nodded. Adjusting the bags on his shoulders, he let go of my hand and pushed into the bushes to his left. I followed his lead, making my way to the right. I inched along, the branches and thorns stabbing at my back and legs. Letting my eyes shut, my fingers guided me, feeling the wall as I pushed further into the brush.

  The tips of my fingers curled around an edge. Opening my eyes, I pushed forward to look. It was the doorway, the entry a few feet deep before ending at a locked door.

  “Reed!” I shouted. “I found it!”

  Branches snapped and crashed as Reed pushed himself through to find me. We stepped into the doorway together. The door was solid metal. It had no handle, just a slot barely big enough for the key.

  I pulled the necklace over my head and moved closer to the door. Carefully, almost afraid it would suddenly shatter to dust, I pressed the key into the slot. The door hummed. Gears whizzed inside, occasionally joined with a beep or soft buzz.

  Creaking against layers of rust and time, the door swung open.

  I looked over at Reed. His eyes were wide, his lips clenched so tight they were white. He was staring at the door. He let his eyes slide away, locking onto me instead. His face softened, his lips relaxing as he took me in.

  “I love you, Millie.” His voice was a breath.

  My heart fluttered. My body inched back toward him, wanting to feel his warmth. His safety. His love. “I love you too,” I whispered back.

  Reed wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his body. I could feel his lips press against mine, softly at first then pressing harder as he melted against me. I pushed back, breathing him in. There truly was no one else in the world. There was only Reed, his arms holding me safe. I could have lived the rest of my life in that moment, and never looked back.

  A wave crashing against the shore pulled us out of our kiss. We turned our heads towards the door. Another wave crashed, calling to us. Hand in hand, we pushed the door open and stepped through.

  | | |

  It was beautiful.

  We stepped down from the doorway, our eyes wide as the beach filled our vision. I pulled the key from the door as we walked away, the door swinging on its hinges as if unsure whether it should close or stay open to the salt air that breathed around us.

  The sand sunk under our feet as we slowly made our way down to the water. We had to carefully step over large pieces of wood, their surfaces covered in dried sea foam and green algae. It seemed to take forever to get past the piles of driftwood. Then, as if a line had been drawn in the sandy shore, they suddenly disappeared.

  The beach before us glittered. Waves rolled against the shore, catching the light and reflecting it in prisms that took my breath away. I couldn’t see anything beyond the waves. They stretched on, disappearing into the distant horizon. Everything glowed green and blue and perfect.

  Reed wasn’t looking at the waves. He instead stared down at the sandy ground. Following his gaze, I looked down. Sea glass, scattered across the entire shore, shone in the dimming light. I lifted the key, letting the sun’s rays shine through Orrin’s sea glass. Its green glow mixed perfectly with the blues and whites and greens of the glass that covered the shore.

  Reed glanced up to the key then lowered his eyes back to the shore. Letting out a slow breath, he sat down in the sand. He scooped up a handful of sea glass, sand pouring out through his fingers.

  “It’s just how he told me it would be,” I said softly.

  “Who?” Reed’s voice sounded distant, his thoughts taking over.

  “A friend. Back in Spokane. He gave me this piece of sea glass I have, as my birthday present.” I sat down next to Reed. He glanced at me then looked away again, his fingers trailing over a small pile of sea glass in the sand. “He told me that the beach was beautiful. It really is.”

  Reed didn’t respond. Looking over to him, I watched as he picked up a small piece of white glass, turning it between his fingers. His face had gone blank, only his eyes showing emotion as they stared at the glowing glass. “Reed, what’s wrong?”

  Reed, his eyes still fastened to the handful of glowing glass, let out another heavy sigh. “This is beautiful.”

  I nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “When I was little, I think I lived near a beach. I can’t really remember.” Reed dropped the white piece of sea glass. It fell back into the san
d, barely making a sound. “I can remember the sea glass though. There was never this much. It was a treasure hunt, just to find one piece.”

  Reed turned to me and softly smiled. “My mom loved this glass,” he went on, lost in the memory. “My last memory, of my parents, of my family… I can remember being with my father and brother. We had been scouring the beach all day for some glass for my mother. We were so happy. I can still hear my father’s booming laugh as he chased us down the beach. But… as hard as I try, I can’t remember his face.

  “We finally found a piece. Small. And green.” Reed’s eyes trailed down the key dangling from my hand. He reached forward and lightly touched the sea glass tied to it. “Just like that one you have, actually. We were so excited. But when we got back to the house, the police were waiting. They took away my father. And then the memory just stops. I can’t remember anything else until I was put into my first foster home.”

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I swung the key into my hand. My fingers clutched Orrin’s sea glass, the wire cutting into my flesh. I didn’t feel it though. My mind had frozen at Reed’s words, disbelief washing over me.

  “Reed, you said once that you could remember a name.” Reed nodded. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Was it your father’s name?” As he opened his mouth to answer me, I slowly asked, “Is it Orrin?”

  Reed dropped the piece of glass and turned to me. “How did you know that?” he demanded.

  I held out the glass, gleaming against Jude’s key. Reed’s eyes trailed to it, then widened as he realized what I knew. Reed reached out, carefully, and took the key from my hand. He held it in his palm, his eyes searching the small piece of green glass.

  “But… I was told he was gone,” he whispered.

  I swallowed hard. I could feel the sting of tears at my eyes. I didn’t know why they were there, why I felt this choke inside. Looking at Reed, I could see the same shock mirrored on his own face.

  Reed clenched the key in his hand. For a moment, I thought he would to throw it in to the crashing ocean. I saw his muscles tighten, his fingers whitening as they gripped it tightly. Then he sighed and opened his hand again. The key had pressed so hard into his palm that I could see a clear outline, bright red, imprinted on his flesh.

  “I can’t leave him,” Reed said, his voice shaking.

  24

  “Reed, he is in Spokane. On a life sentence.”

  “He is innocent.”

  “How do you know? You can’t remember anything about him.”

  Reed looked at me. His eyes looked strangely calm, a stark contrast to the waves that were now pounding on the shore. “I know because you trusted him.”

  My throat tightened again. I barely managed to nod.

  Reed looked down the coastline. It wound away into the distance, curving around a small rocky cliff. I followed his gaze. Past that cliff, miles away, was our escape.

  “Eddie died for this,” I whispered.

  Reed stood, brushing the sand from his pants. “Eddie…” Reed’s voice choked off. He shut his eyes, swallowing hard. When he spoke again, his voice came out rough. “Eddie died for freedom.” Offering me a hand, he waited until I reached up and let him pull me to my feet. He rested a finger under my chin, raising my face to look into his. “Your parents have chosen to stay locked away. But my father −”

  “He wants to be free,” I said, reassuring Reed.

  I knew what he was thinking. I could feel it in the tenseness of his body, in the strong gaze of his eyes. I turned and looked back at the rocky cliff in the distance. A fog had rolled in, covering it in a thick white. The fog thickened, the cliff slowly disappearing behind it like a lost memory.

  “This Nation,” Reed said, his face now watching the crashing waves, “it needs to be stopped. It needs to be freed. We… we need to be freed.”

  “But what can we do? We barely made it, Reed. Eddie died. Carl…”

  Reed stopped me. His hand held mine, his eyes sweeping out to the ocean. “We made it though, Millie. If all we can do is show others how to do that, than we have done something.” Reed looked out to the waves, his eyes shimmering in the sun. “I can’t leave him”

  I moved in closer to Reed. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his warm body. I watched the waves roll in the horizon. One wave grew, rising high before suddenly crashing to the shore. The water sprayed high. I heard the soft thud as new pieces of sea glass fell with the water spray, landing to join the others on the glittering beach.

  The ocean had made clean and beautiful another once sharp piece of glass. It now rested with its brothers and sisters, glowing in the sun. Clean. Beautiful. Perfect.

  Life as we knew it was over. Life, as we knew it, was brand new and promising. Everything was about to change. From the moment I had scribbled my final journal entry, what seemed like a century ago, life had changed. Now, as I stood on the abandoned beach, Reed holding me, the wind teasing my hair, I did not dread life.

  I welcomed it.

  We turned and made our way back to the still swinging door. I could hear the waves crashing behind me, calling me back. They roared and rolled, reminding me that escape waited just over the horizon.

  “Wait,” I said.

  I reached into my bag, pulling out my old journal. The edges were tattered, the pages loose and trying to fall free. I carefully pulled out the piece I wanted then shoved the notebook back into my bag.

  It was wrinkled and worn, the penciled words barely readable now from the many times I had crumpled the page. I read the entry again, remembering the unsettled and unknown feelings that had made me afraid to leave the Prison. I remembered Dr. Eriks’ sun sprays, the glares of the inmates. Carl’s stare. The loving gaze of my mother.

  Tearing up the page, I opened my fingers. A breeze, light off of the ocean, tickled my skin. It kissed my fingers, easing the throbbing in my body before it caught the torn pieces and carried them away into the distant fog.

  I had thought that the freedom would be there in the waves. That it hid beyond the fog and diving birds, beyond the Nation’s Wall. As we stepped into the dark doorway, I knew better now. I could feel the waves inside me, crashing against my soul.

  I had always been free.

  “My name is Millie Summers,” I said, the words, sweet and true. “And I am free.”

  Closing my eyes, I let Reed pull me into the shadows of the doorway. The metal door swung once more, then slammed shut.

  “Man is free at the moment he wishes to be.”

  – Voltaire

  To learn more about Jenni, visit her at:

  www.JenniMerritt.com

  Blog:

  jennimerritt.blogspot.com

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  www.twitter.com/JMWriting

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  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my amazing husband Shane, for all the support, patience and love you show me every single day. You are so amazing. I love you, always. Sweet nothings.

  My children, for remembering mommy loves you even when her make-believe worlds claim her. Your dreams can happen kiddos, remember that.

  My parents, for always believing in me, no matter what.

  Zach, for giving me the inspiration and strength to create this world.

  Kimmel, for pushing me on and rooting for me every step of the crazy way.Keary, for all your advice, tips, and mutual crazy writer mama moments. I love you both.

  My beta readers: Kimmel, Keary, Teri, Jessie, Nick, Megan and Kelsey. Thank you for reading this in all its rawness and still pushing me to finish. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you.

  Allie, for sharing your natural beauty with my cover.

  Vince James Photography, for creating my first every author photo. You made this even more real for me!

  NaNoWriMo, for finally giving me that incentive I needed to get this thing done. Thanks to you, I am no longer a “one day” novelist, but a true bl
ue author. What a ride!

  My blogging community, for following me along the way amidst all my rants and raves.

  My friends and family, who never let me live my “I will be an author” boast down. You all keep me going.

  My Heavenly Father, for giving me this priceless gift in my life.

  And last but most definitely not least –

  ThankYOU: For giving my book, and me, a chance.

  Jenni Merritt was born and raised on a small island in the Puget Sound. From a young age she discovered and fell in love with the world of writing and has been happily obsessed ever since. She is now married to the love of her life, and has two crazy but amazing little boys. When not busying herself with being a stay-at-home mom, writing books, keeping her blog, and diving into photography, Jenni sometimes manages to snag some much needed sleep.

  * * *

  DAYNIGHT, Megan Thomason

  Dystopia, according to Megan Thomason

  I a huge fan of the dystopian genre and love to spend a lot of time thinking about societal extremes. The themes indaynight, many of which are very dark, are all designed to have readers think about parallels to our own society and where we need to draw lines.

  The dystopia category is pretty broad these days. By definition a dystopian world must have deprivation, oppression, orterror. I prefer dystopias that explore interesting societal and moral dilemmas to catastrophic conditions/survival stories.

  The very best dystopias most often have a well formed government enforcing extremes. I’m fascinated by these entities, and in particular:

  - What events drove them to shift the way they governed? For example, in The Hunger Games the government instituted the games to punish and remind the districts of their former rebellion (and failure to succeed).

  - What results are they looking to achieve? In 1984, the desired result was control over every action and thought. In Brave New World the government desired peaceful coexistence and happiness for its citizens.

 

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