by S. J. West
Behind the screen door leading back into the house, Lawrence stood with his arms crossed over his chest watching me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Lawrence stepped through the screen door without opening it and walked into the backyard.
“What have you done to them?” I asked.
“Nothing yet,” Lawrence said, a sly grin spreading his thin lips. “They’re still in the house.”
“You shouldn’t have followed us, Lawrence.” I slowly walked toward him.
“You didn’t think I would just let you run away with Zoe and the babies, did you?” He cocked his head. “They’re too important to the Queen.”
“They’re more important to me.”
“But you’re not the Queen,” he said snidely, finding some sort of queer satisfaction in his statement. “She’ll be sorely disappointed in what you did to me.”
I laughed harshly. “The Queen detests you, Lawrence. If you had any sense at all, you would know that.”
“I’m smart enough to know you’re betraying her.”
“Planning to tell her that the next time you see her?” I asked, stopping right in front of him.
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I told him before hitting him with the flats of my hands on his chest, sending him flying into the air. He didn’t stop until his back slammed against the brick wall of the house, causing an indentation to form around his body.
He recovered quickly and ran at me like a linebacker, hitting me in the midsection with his lowered shoulder, crashing us both against the side of the Durango. The vehicle tilted precariously before rolling over onto its side.
I wrapped an arm around Lawrence’s neck, squeezing with enough force to make him relinquish his hold of my waist.
“You really shouldn’t have followed me,” I told Lawrence, tightening my arm around his throat until he made choking sounds. I knew I had a decision to make. I could simply try to incapacitate Lawrence again like I did at the boathouse, or I could rip his head off and not have to worry about him anymore. I decided he needed to die.
I was just about to tear his neck to shreds when I heard my name called softly. I looked toward the house and saw Zoe holding one of the babies in her arms, watching me.
The look of horror on her face made me hesitate. She had to understand what I was about to do. It was the only way to make sure Lawrence didn’t follow us again.
“He needs to die. I have to do it,” I said to her.
“No, you don’t.” She stepped out of the house. “You don’t have to be a murderer.”
“He’s just a Harvester, Zoe. It’s not like I haven’t killed one before.”
“But you had to then,” she told me. “You don’t have to now. Just knock him out long enough to give us time to escape.”
I snorted. “I’ve already tried that once. He found us anyway. No,” I said, shaking my head, resolute in my decision, “I need to kill him this time to make sure he doesn’t tell the Queen where we are.”
“Don’t, Skye,” she begged.
“Why do you care what happens to him?” I asked, not trying to hide my frustration. “He doesn’t care about anything but pleasing the Queen.”
“I don’t care about him. I care about you.”
“You’re not making any sense, Zoe.”
“If you kill him in cold blood, I don’t think you’ll ever be the same again. You’re not a murderer, Skye. That’s not the type of person you are.”
“I’m a Harvester, Zoe. Murder is what we’re built for.”
“But you’re not a true Harvester anymore,” she said, total conviction in her voice. “Or you wouldn’t be trying to help us. If all you are is a Harvester, you would be doing what this one is trying to do: take us back to the Queen. Instead you’re helping us escape from her. She may have put a chip in your head, but you’re not letting it control your choices now. You’re in charge of your own life, not her.”
“He needs to die,” I said, tightening my hold around Lawrence’s neck. By this time, he had already passed out from lack of oxygen, even Harvesters needed to breathe.
“Then don’t kill him for me,” Zoe pleaded. “I don’t want his blood on my hands because I know you would only be doing it to protect us. I wouldn’t be able to live with his death on my conscience.”
I snapped Lawrence’s neck but didn’t tear his head off. His body fell limply to the ground. I stood and dusted myself off.
“Satisfied?” I asked Zoe.
“Thank you, Skye.”
The relief in Zoe’s eyes told me she still thought I had a chance to be saved, that somehow I would magically revert back to my old self. I didn’t want to ruin her fantasy, but I knew in that moment how idealistic she was. Miracles were possible in her world, and I didn’t have the heart to shatter her hope of my returning to her the way I was. Even if I did regain more of my humanity, I knew in that moment I would never be the same person again. I was forever changed. Only time would tell whether or not it was for the better.
When I followed Zoe back into the house, she showed me where Lawrence left Jackson and Ava. They were knocked out cold lying together on one of the beds.
“He only left me alone so I could take care of the babies,” Zoe explained.
“You stay here while I take care of Lawrence. Maybe they’ll be awake by the time I get back.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Take him to the river and dump him in it. Hopefully, he’ll float down far enough to not be a threat to us for a while.”
“You promise you won’t kill him?”
“Zoe,” I said in irritation, “if I was going to kill him, I would have ripped his head off a few minutes ago instead of just breaking his neck.”
“Ok,” Zoe said, seeing she was quickly making me angry with her incessant questioning. “I trust you. I know you’ll do the right thing. You always do.”
I stood there and stared at Zoe wondering how she could have so much faith in me after the things I had said to her back at the Queen’s house. My words to her then were meant to make her hate me, to forget about trying to save me from what I had become. But she was still trying to remind me of who I once was.
“I’ll be back,” I said, turning my back on the hope in her eyes.
It didn’t take me long to haul Lawrence to the river. I ripped his clothes off and tore them into strips to strap his body to the bench cushion. Just for good measure, I made sure his neck was still broken and proceeded to break his legs and arms to give his nanites more repair work to slow down his healing. Once I sent him on his way down the river, I made my way back to the house.
My original plan of staying at the house overnight was completely shot now. If Lawrence had been able to find us so easily, the Queen wouldn’t be far behind. Our best bet was to keep moving. I knew Zoe and the babies desperately needed some down time, but I couldn’t afford to give it to them. They would have to take what rest they could while I drove us to Michael’s camp. After I got them there, I wasn’t sure what I would do. I still felt a pull to go back to the Queen’s side and serve her as diligently as I could, but I couldn’t deny the other part of me that wanted to save Zoe and see Jace again.
What did he think of me now? Could he possibly still love someone who had, in essence, betrayed him? Someone who had chosen to be with the Queen instead of him? It seemed like Jace and I had been apart more than we had been together, but I couldn’t deny I still felt a need to be with him. A part of me yearned to be near him, to feel his breath against my skin and hear him say he loved me. I could feel his phantom touches and longed to feel the real thing.
When I cleared the woods, I saw Zoe standing with Ash at the corner of the house. He was holding her close to him with their foreheads touching and eyes closed. He was whispering something to her, but I could hear him clearly.
“We’ll find a way to save her,” he promised.
“Save who?” I asked, making my p
resence known before I approached them.
Ash quickly pulled away from Zoe like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Hope,” he answered.
“Good.” I came to stand with them. “For a minute there, I thought you might have joined Zoe’s crusade to save my soul.”
“I still have hope for you,” Ash said.
“Don’t waste your energy,” I told him, walking toward the Durango. I pushed it back into an upright position intent on finishing mounting the spare tire.
“Why don’t you actually do something useful and try to take your daughter to the past to get her help?” I said to Ash.
“I don’t think I can,” Ash replied, filled with regret.
I stopped walking and looked back at him. “Why not?”
“Every time I get near the babies it makes me teleport.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Kinda noticed that annoying fact. Why do you think that is?”
“I’m not completely sure.” Ash shook his head. “But I think my time traveling is connected to my emotions. I seem to only travel between people I love.”
I looked to Zoe and saw the shock on her face. Ash had traveled back to her here at the house, not to me in the woods. Now she had a reason to hope he truly could love her.
“Don’t you love your children?” I asked harshly, feeling an irrational need to hurt him.
“I think that’s the problem,” Ash said. “I love them too much. It’s like they overload my system when I get too close to them.”
“So basically you’re useless.”
“Skye!” Zoe said in a disapproving tone.
“No,” Ash said, looking at Zoe, “she’s right. I can’t help you take care of them. I desperately want to but my power won’t let that happen, at least not yet. I just have to find a way to control it better.”
“If it can be controlled,” I said.
Someone had to keep things real. Zoe still wanted to live in the land of unicorns and rainbows, a child’s world. The sooner she realized Ash might not be a permanent fixture in our lives, the better. We had real problems to deal with. Problems he apparently was useless to help with.
I bent down and started to mount the spare tire.
“You need to get the children ready to leave,” I told Zoe. “We don’t need to be here when the Queen comes calling. Have Jackson and Ava woken up yet?”
“No,” Zoe answered, “not yet.”
“Maybe you can go wake them up,” I said to Ash. “Since you can’t help with the babies, it’s the most useful thing you can do right now. I might need Jackson to jump-start this thing for us.”
Ash looked confused. “Who are Jackson and Ava?”
I briefly told Ash who they were, how I first met them, and what powers they possessed. Ash followed Zoe into the house to see what he could do to wake the other two up for us.
I filled the gas tank with the gas I had obtained from the house up the road. I seriously debated with myself on whether or not I wanted to go into the house. My worry over Hope’s welfare won out over my desire to stay away from Ash and Zoe. Separately, I could handle them, but together I felt outnumbered.
When I walked into the house, I saw Ash leaned up against the kitchen counter watching Zoe as she stood at the kitchen table with all three babies lined up for what looked like diaper change time.
“I never knew babies could produce something that smells so bad,” she said to me, wiping Rose’s bottom with a wet wipe. “Do you think something’s wrong with them? It’s not supposed to smell like this, is it?”
I heard Ash clear his throat and knew he was trying to not laugh at Zoe’s naiveté.
“They’re fine, Zoe,” I told her, giving Ash a disapproving glare. “It’s normal.”
“Ok, if you say so,” she said, though I could still hear the doubt in her voice.
I helped Zoe get the babies ready for travel while Ash went to wake Jackson and Ava. Jackson came walking out on his own, asking what happened to Lawrence. I told him about sailing him down the river. Jackson agreed we needed to leave as soon as possible and went out to see if he could get the Durango started.
“The girl isn’t waking up,” Ash came and told us. “She must have been hit harder or something. I think she needs a doctor.”
I cursed inwardly, wondering what else could possibly go wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Durango had enough room in the back for Zoe to lie down with the babies and rest. Jackson and Ava sat in the second row of seats, and Ash sat up front with me. I didn’t turn the headlights on as we drove away from the house. Night was upon us now, and I didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention. It seemed to make my passengers nervous.
“I can see just fine,” I told them. “Harvesters can see in the dark.”
“I keep forgetting you’re one of them,” Jackson said from the backseat. “You don’t act like one.”
I ignored him, not wanting to start a philosophical discussion on the behavior of a Harvester. Unfortunately, Ash jumped at the chance.
“He’s right you know. You don’t always act like a Harvester.”
“Don’t you start too,” I said. “I get enough grief from Zoe without you harping on how different I am.”
“We love you. We want our old Skye back.”
“She’s not coming back.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think you’re more like your old self than you want to admit.”
“Listen,” I said, my frustration growing, “as soon as I get Hope to a doctor, I plan to go back to the Queen. So, forget whatever little fantasy you’ve built up about me in your mind.”
“Why do you care what happens to Hope so much?”
My mind went blank. I didn’t have an answer to Ash’s question because I had no idea why her life meant so much to me.
“I like to root for the underdog, I guess.” Even to me my answer sounded lame.
Ash didn’t speak after that. After a while, I looked at him and saw that he had fallen asleep. I had no way of knowing what his time jumping was doing to his body. Surely it was having an effect. How could it not? I wondered how long he would be able to continue traveling back and forth from the present to the past without it killing him. It made me wonder if there might be a way to reverse what the Queen had done to him. My limited knowledge of genetic manipulation simply wasn’t enough to help me know if it was reversible or not.
My train of thought brought me back to a question I kept asking myself: why did I care? The Queen’s ability to awaken Ash’s unique power was a triumph. Now she knew how to do it for almost anyone she chose. But in order for it to work, I would need to be by her side ready to heal them before their hearts gave out. Was that the reason I was so important to her? To help further progress her plans in the next evolution of Harvesters? I didn’t think so. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.
No, in spite of herself, she loved me. I saw it plainly written in her eyes at the hospital after she handled the initial riot. For all of her talk and propaganda, the Queen had failed to eliminate one of humanities most basic emotions even within herself.
We were on the road for over four hours before the Durango died underneath us. I braked to a rolling stop, waking everyone instantly.
“What’s wrong?” Ash asked, wiping sleep from his eyes.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “We still have gas. It must be something mechanical.”
“Pop the hood,” Jackson said. “Maybe I can figure something out.”
After spending almost an hour fiddling under the hood, Jackson wasn’t able to diagnose the problem with the engine.
“Skye!” Zoe yelled from the back. “Something’s wrong with Hope!”
I ran to the back of the Durango. Apparently without thinking, Ash ran back with me and got too close, instantly vanishing. I didn’t have time to think about that, all I could focus on was the sound of Hope’s ragged breathing.
“How far are we from a doctor?”
Zoe asked, rocking Hope in the crook of her arm.
“We’re at least thirty or forty miles away,” I said. So close yet so far away.
“We can walk that,” Zoe said, nodding her head to make the task seem more doable than it was. “We can do it. I know we can.”
“Listen,” I told her. “I can make it there faster than any of you. I’ll take Hope on ahead and you guys stay here. I’ll get Michael to send help back.”
Without questioning my decision, Zoe kissed Hope on the lips and handed her over to me. When I looked down at Hope, I could see how quickly she was deteriorating. Her skin now held a bluish tint, telling me she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I touched her forehead with my hand and called on my healing power to help prolong her life, but it seemed to have no effect on whatever was wrong with her.
“Save her” was the last thing I heard Zoe say before I took off running down the road.
I held Hope close to my chest to keep her as warm as I could while I ran. With each step I took, I became more and more determined to save her. But the same question repeated itself in my mind: what was I saving her for? The world as it was wasn’t worth living in. An image of the world as it could be flashed in my mind. My future self had shown me a world where the sun shone and children could laugh. That was a place in which Hope deserved to live in. She had been dealt a bad hand in the game of life, and I was determined to change her luck. All I had to do was get her to Michael’s camp.
After two hours of running, I stopped to catch my breath and check on Hope. Her little eyes were open, staring up at me. Her lips were parted as she fought to draw in a single breath.
“Hang in there,” I told her. “Don’t you dare die on me. Not when we’re so close to getting you help.”
I took off running again, knowing there wasn’t a second to lose.
Thirty minutes later, Hope struggled to lift one of her tiny hands up like she wanted to grab onto something. I stopped running, and I placed my index finger against her small palm. Her fingers wrapped around it tightly, and she stared at me with such intensity, as if she were telling me it was time to let her go.