He places his thumbs on each side of the crevice in the cast pulling it apart as though it were a thin eggshell.
Holding them out side-by-side I stare at my arms. The healed arm is shriveled, shrunken, half the size it used to be. The muscles atrophied from months without use.
“How does it feel?” He asks, holding the broken cast in his hand.
“Freed, but… not quite right.” I squeeze my hand. It doesn’t do much to flex the muscles of my forearm, they are too weak and feel like jello. I look up to see the cast on the ground and Adam scratching the inside of his arm. I notice the small scar on his forearm. The small criss-crossed stitches I gave him.
The transmitter.
CHAPTER five
“Adam, are you wearing the transmitter?” I ask, trying to control the pitch in my voice, trying not to sound hysterical.
“I always do,” he responds nonchalantly.
I reach forward, pushing up his sleeve, touching his warm skin for the first time and ignoring the tingling sensation in my fingertips. Wrapped around his upper arm, cutting into the muscle of his bicep, is the locket that I placed the transmitter in months ago after removing it from Adam’s arm. I took it out so Crane would no longer have the opportunity of killing Adam. The transmitter is loaded with a lethal dose of potassium, as well as a tracking device. If he ever strayed while outside the District collecting supplies Crane could end his life with the push of a button.
“Crane can track you. He can track you here!” I stand, unclasping the necklace and unwinding it from his arm.
“What are you doing?” Adam asks, trying to stop my shaking hands.
“I can’t let him find us. I can’t let him find Lina!” I run back to the tool-barn with the golden jewel-encrusted locket in hand, searching for something hard and flat. I find a large hammer. I open the locket spilling the small transmitter onto the counter.
Adam is right behind me, trying to stop me, grabbing at my hands and arms. “Stop! Andie, calm down.”
I raise the hammer, ready to smash the transmitter as hard as I can. But Adam stops my arms, ripping the hammer from my grasp. I push at him, trying to get the hammer back. “Give it to me! Give it back now!” I yell at him.
He holds the hammer high in the air, his arm fully extended. I jump a few times trying to grab it back but I can’t reach. He’s too tall. I turn around searching the barn for something else, another tool to break the transmitter. But I can’t find anything. I resort to throwing the tools on the floor, pulling them off the walls, searching still. I can’t let Crane find us. If it’s the last thing I do, I have to destroy that transmitter, right now.
Adam is behind me pulling at my shoulders. I hear him speaking but whatever he is saying doesn’t quite reach my ears. All I know is he’s trying to stop me, and I can’t let him. He doesn’t understand. I pull away from him continuing my search, frantic and panicked.
Finally, Adam grabs my shoulder hard, turning me around to face him. “Would you look at yourself, what is wrong with you?” He asks, his face directly in front of mine.
“Crane…” I start, but my chin is trembling again. I’ve never been so scared before, never so scared of a single person in my entire life.
“What about him?”
“I can’t let him find us.” I wipe at my face with my sweater sleeves. He must think I’m weak, pathetic even. Reduced to this sobbing mess.
“Why?”
“Because,” I reply angrily. “Because I can’t!”
“Why are you so scared of him, Andie? You never were before.”
He’s right. I wasn’t before. I wasn’t afraid to question him, to speak my mind, to scoff at his attempts to control my life, but that was before the basement. I’m guessing Morris hasn’t told him.
“Of course I wasn’t!” I yell at him. Angry that he’s trying to stop me, angry that he is seeing me like this. “That was before he had Baillie beat the life out of me. That was before he told me I would never see my daughter again. You were gone. Ian is gone. I was scared. Sam was dead out there in the bombings.”
There it is. I can’t hold it in any longer. The pain, the fear, knowing that I will never be the same. That my daughter lived for a week without me and I thought I would never see anyone I loved ever again. I let myself drop to the ground in tears, never fully reaching the cold floor of the barn. Adam pulls me up, holding me to his chest, kissing my forehead. I barely notice when he lets go with one arm, smashing the hammer over the transmitter, breaking it into tiny bits.
--
I tell Adam everything. How Crane stole me away from Lina and my Volker escort after he found us trying to escape. The musty basement, how Crane said I’d never see Lina again, what Baillie did to me, and my pathetic attempts to fight back. I tell him how Morris rescued me. How I was thinking that I was going to die, that I would never see any of them again. Then there were the nightmares, my drifting, Morris and Elvis' concerned looks, and the fact that the Guardians don't even trust me anymore. Of all things, the dogs don’t even trust me. I don’t tell him that he is the only one who knows all this, but I’m sure that he can sense it.
When I am done, it’s time to collect Lina from school. I simply get up and walk away from him. Leaving him with all of my baggage in the empty field. I head for the schoolhouse. This time, though, I don’t float through the fields as a lifeless ghost. I can feel the hard ground under my feet, the tall grass brushing against my legs. It’s a welcome improvement compared to what I’ve been sensing these past weeks. Maybe Adam was right.
When I get to the courtyard, Blithe is standing outside with the children and Sam. Lina is sitting on Sam’s shoulders, teasing Stevie with a long stick and giggling as Stevie attempts to jump up and bite the stick.
“How was your first day of class?” I ask Sam.
“Good,” he replies.
“Mommy, can we do our chores now?” Lina asks from high above me.
“That sounds like a great idea. Come on, Sam. Lina can show you her favorite animals.”
We walk off towards the barns to help feed the chickens and other farm animals. Even though Elvis feeds the animals each morning, he saves some food for Lina to give them every afternoon. There are carrots for the horses, corn kernels for the chickens, and apples for the spitting alpacas. For some reason Lina likes the alpacas best.
Sam and I catch up. He tells me about how he searched for us at the hospital and at the barricade. The hospital told him I was no longer their employee, that I had been terminated. And all the army would tell him was that our bodies had not been found. It must have been horrible, the moment he realized he was alone with none of his family surviving. I will forever be in debt to Adam for finding him and bringing him back to me.
Thankfully, Sam doesn’t ask about Ian in front of Lina. I’m sure Adam or Crane filled him in on Ian’s current disposition. But, I can sense that Sam wants to ask about him as he keeps looking at the wedding band on my finger, the one I still can’t seem to take off. We will have to save that conversation for another time.
We gather in the courtyard for dinner. Blithe and the boys made blueberry pies. I bring the roasted squash that Lina picked after feeding the animals and Elvis brings three fat rabbits he trapped in the far corn fields. We listen to the children chatter about their day in the classroom, then they beg Sam to play tag with them. We all laugh watching him chase and then run from the three children. Somehow, this moment feels almost normal. Elvis and Blithe’s faces are no longer filled with worry each time they look at me. Adam was right. I had to tell someone about what happened.
At nightfall I take Lina inside to get her ready for bed. I wait with her until she’s sound asleep like I do every night. After telling Stevie where I’m going, I wander outside to begin another night of avoiding sleep.
Someone has started a fire. I look around to the houses, peering in their windows. Blithe is getting the boys to bed. Sam is reading a book in the library-house, Elvis turns off his light
s. I sit by the fire in one of the aged Adirondack chairs welcoming its heat on my cold arms, and watch the stars.
“Do you want this?”
I jump, startled. Adam stands near me holding the quilt I left outside last night. I hold my arm out expecting him to pass me the quilt, but instead he takes my arm, pulling me out of the chair. When I’m standing he sits down, and pulling me onto his lap he covers both of us with the quilt.
“Relax,” Adam whispers in my ear.
My body is stiff, edgy. I haven’t been able to relax in weeks. I lay my head on his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent of sandalwood and leather. I’m not sure if it’s the warmth radiating off him, or the feeling of his arms locked around me, but for the first time in months I fall into a dead sleep without even saying another word to him.
CHAPTER six
I wake as the morning sun is just peeking over the horizon only to find my mouth hanging open and a thick puddle of drool on Adam’s shirt. I reach up to clean my face off on my sleeve, and use it to soak up the wetness on his shirt. He doesn’t wake from my movements. I peer up at him, watching him sleep so peacefully. He’s relaxed, his breath slow and steady, his muscles soft yet his arms are still clasped around my back as though he’s afraid he might lose me in the night.
Maybe he has the same fears as I do. I wonder if he has trouble sleeping at night, if he’s afraid that when he wakes up it will all be gone, and those terrible dreams will be his reality? Maybe we have more in common than I originally thought. I stare at him, memorizing his face. It’s then I realize that there were no nightmares.
I lay my head back down on Adam’s chest, thinking about what I should do next. I have to formulate my next move, my plan. Every time I think of Crane I still feel a sharp pang of fear. I know that I can’t let this go on. Even after all he’s done to me. I can’t let him think I am afraid. Then he has truly won, and Lina and I will never have peace.
When I look up again Adam is awake, watching me. A look of concern spreads across his face.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
“I wouldn’t be so sure just yet,” He looks around the courtyard then back to me. No one else is awake, not even the animals have stirred. There’s nothing more than the smoking embers and the peachy sunrise to greet us this morning. “So, what are your plans for today?”
I think for a minute, and then look into his eyes. “I want you to show me how to fire a gun.”
“Excellent.” He smiles down at me. “That’s the Andie I remember.”
--
I meet Adam in the South fields. When I get there, Elvis and Sam are with Adam.
“What are you all doing out here?” I ask them.
“I had an idea after you mentioned you wanted to learn to shoot. We are going to train all the adults,” Adam responds.
I don’t like the idea of my little brother firing a gun. “Sam’s supposed to be in class.” I point at him like a child tattling.
“Andie, I’ve been firing a gun for as long as I can remember. So drop it,” Sam tells me.
“Look,” Adam interrupts. “If Crane shows up, everyone needs to be able to protect themselves.” The way Adam looks at me makes me wonder if he’s talking about more than just the adults.
They’ve brought out a table and targets, but more than just guns. There’s a selection of knives, bows and arrows, a spear.
“Andie, you’re with me. Sam is with Elvis.”
Adam motions for me to come to him. Laid out in front of him on the table is an assortment of guns, pistols, shotguns, and a revolver. He starts with the pistol, showing me how to load it and how to check the safety. He does this with each of the guns then makes me repeat what he said and load them by myself. When I look over, I see Elvis showing Sam how to throw a knife at one of the targets in the field. Elvis hits the bulls-eye, but Sam’s knife lands in the grass.
“Andie.” Adam redirects my attention. “It’s time to shoot.”
He hands me a pistol, showing me how to hold it, folding my hands around it like a puzzle, leaving my index finger outside of the trigger guard. Then he takes it out of my hand, laying it on the table. “Now pick it up, fast,” he tells me.
I reach down, fumbling at first, until I get the pistol in the position he showed me. He instructs me on how to stand, kicking my feet apart until they’re at the right distance and how to aim with the sight. I look over to Sam again and see him throw one of the knives, hitting the center of the target. Adam is behind me, in my ear. “Pay attention.” He grips his hands over mine, holding me in my stance, clicking the safety off. “Now squeeze the trigger.” I put my index finger on the trigger, squeezing a tiny bit then stopping against the resistance. “Don’t hesitate, do it!” I squeeze hard, rocking backwards into Adam from the force of the bullet leaving the chamber. “Again!” he demands. I pull the trigger with the same effect. I keep shooting, missing the target each time. Plumes of pale dust rise up out of the grass. “This is pretty sad. Should I have brought a pink pistol for you?” Adam chirps in my ear. I’m not sure if he’s joking with me or trying to make me mad. Either way, it works.
“Get off my back,” I tell him. I shrug my shoulders until he steps back, leaving me standing alone with just the pistol. I squeeze the trigger, letting my body adjust to firing the weapon. I adjust my stance, the grip on the gun, squeezing the trigger again, hitting the middle of the target.
“It’s about time,” Adam responds from behind me. I proceed to empty the bullets into the target, most of them leaving holes around the bulls-eye. As we move on into the early afternoon, Adam trains me on shooting the shotgun, this almost sends me flying onto my back. By the end of the afternoon my hands and arms throb and both targets are destroyed from mine and Sam’s target practice.
We practice each afternoon. Once Sam has mastered all of the weapons, he returns to classes during the day. Adam continues training me with the knives, the bow, and a spear. I don’t have any prior experience with weapons like Sam, who used to hunt with our father. I never had a need for weapons. But times have changed. I practice over and over, soaking up everything he tells me, repeating it in my head so I don’t forget.
--
“I want you to teach me how to fight,” I tell Adam one afternoon.
“Why do you want to know how to fight?” Adam asks me.
“I know there won’t always be a weapon around to assist me.” He watches my face, studying me. “And I need to strengthen my weak arm.” I hold out the arm that was broken. It’s still shriveled, smaller than my other one.
“Fine, tomorrow we’ll start.”
“Why not today? We have plenty of time.” I plead with him, pointing to the sun which is directly over us. Adam sets his face. It’s a mixture of concern and puzzlement.
“I don’t have any padding to protect you.”
“You won’t hurt me. It’s fine.” I can tell he doesn’t want to, but he caves and motions me over to the field, away from the weapons.
He lectures me on stance, movement, and anticipation. It’s easy to see him as a combat trainer in the military. The only thing he’s missing is the fatigues. He stands back from me, holding his hands up, palms facing me, instructing me how to throw a punch, how to kick high into the air. After a short time I’m winded and exhausted.
“Session’s over, Andie, you’re not ready.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your bruises, your arm. You need to wait, maybe start with light strength training.”
I glare at him and walk away, angry. There’s nothing I detest more than someone telling me I can’t do something.
--
That night Adam knocks on my door after Lina is asleep. We’ve been sleeping outside by the fire the past few nights, wrapped around each other under the stars, but I’m still mad at him.
“What do you want?” I ask as I open the door.
“Come on, Andie, don’t act like a child.”
I let him in and show him around the s
mall, simple house. When we get to the office, the phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Andromeda, it’s nice to hear your voice.” Morris is on the other line. “How are your guests?” he asks.
“They are well. Thank you.” I watch Adam as he wanders around the small office before settling in my desk chair.
“Good, good. I just want you to know there will be a Committee meeting tomorrow. Colonel Waters will have to return for a short time. You may use the teleconference as before.”
“Yes, Morris.” I hang up the phone. I should have known he wouldn’t be able to stay here forever. He is the Volker Sovereign. Always busy, always needed. And he’s been here for almost a week. It’s amazing they haven’t pulled him back before now.
“What did he want?” Adam asks, sitting in front of the computer, watching me intently.
“Morris said you have to go back tomorrow.” Adam nods his head. His finger traces the pattern of the wood grain of the desk. He must have known they wouldn’t let him stay long, and that Morris would call soon. But I’m not ready for him to leave. Adam watches me closely, sensing the change in my demeanor.
“Andie...” he warns, standing, walking to me in a few short strides, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t go there.” I just shake my head at him. “Andromeda,” he whispers in my ear. I pull back, staring at him, his eyes, his lips. I’ve never heard him say my full name before.
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“My name,” I tell him.
“Andromeda,” he repeats, using the same sultry voice as before.
Maybe it’s his tone or the heaviness in my heart, knowing he will be leaving. I’m glad he’s never said it before, my full name, not just my nickname. Because there’s something in the way he says it, the way he looks when he says it, it’s like when he was kissing me in the dark hallway so long ago in the basement of the chemistry building. I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself away from him.
The Phoenix Project Series: Books 1-3: The Phoenix Project, The Reformation, and Revelation Page 31