The image of Jack's lifeless eyes flash through my mind, mingling with the memory of Travis that I had worked so hard to bury. For an instant, their handsome faces merge and meld, making them one and the same. The same ruined life. The same pair of lifeless eyes; their luster forever robbed because of me.
Hyperventilating, I drop to my knees. My hands shake violently as I try to breath into them to calm down. Jack rushes to my side, pulling me down into his lap, enfolding me in a tight embrace. He doesn't ask what is wrong, just rocks me back and forth as he gently presses his lips to my temple. His response to my panic is so natural, and so sincere that it catches me off guard and incredibly distracts me from my own fear. He moves with a familiarity that lacks the uncertainty of Grayson's touch. He responds to me as if he has seen the very core of who I am, and recognizes it as his. With Grayson there is the need to repair our broken connection. With Jack there is no need for repair; the more I am with him, the more I realize our bond was merely hidden, not severed.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"For what?"
"For being the way I am."
"Smart, kind, and lovable?"
"Not hardly," I laugh. "More like confused, disillusioned, and unsure. I am so muddled by everything that has happened, and between you and Grayson, my feelings are sprinting around in circles. We both know I am not indifferent to you."
"How romantic," he chuckles.
"Jack, please, just listen. From the first night you left me, I have dreamt of you, vivid dreams that feel so real, but then disappear into nothing as I wake. All the emotions from the dream are still there, but I have no idea what is real and what isn't. To make things even more confusing, I feel an attraction to Grayson so strong that it makes me question what little I do remember. Throw that on top of grief and guilt . . . "
"I understand. I don't like it, in fact it makes me feel sick to hear about your feelings for Grayson, but I understand."
"Everyone was telling me that my life was tied to the Big House, and I thought I had found a home; a place to belong. Then, one by one, all of my truths began to unravel. The few things I knew to be certain about myself were torn away. Now, nothing feels right anymore. That doesn't mean I am giving up on Grayson, or that I don't trust him. It also doesn't mean I have hardened my heart against you either. It just means that I am all jumbled up inside."
"I'm not trying to make things worse for you. I know I come on a little strong, but I don't have any doubt. I know exactly how I feel for you. I won't try and push you into anything, but I'm not going to pretend I don't love you either. My faith in us is rock solid. I know you, and I know that before too long, you will understand the true nature of things, and when you do, we will be able to restart our life together."
"Why do you have to be so cryptic all the time? Why can't you just tell me now?"
"There is a time and a place for everything Kat, and this tunnel is neither. You have a lot to learn, and I promise I'll tell you, but you have to trust me when I say that now is not the time."
As we move along, the earthen pathway starts to narrow and rapidly descend; not at all heading in the direction I was hoping. The decline steepens, and I hang back, unwilling to venture deeper into the earth. Jack squeezes my hand and pulls me along. The air holes disappear and we are once again thrust into darkness. Thankfully we don't need to crawl, but the tunnel narrows to the point that I can once again feel the sides of the walls on each shoulder.
We slow to a stop and Jack draws back the very darkness itself as he lifts a flap to peek into a brightly lit room. I'm like a moth, desperate to bathe myself in the light, but Jack holds me back. He pulls back the flap again, peeking into the room beyond. Satisfied with what he sees, he beckons me. I rush over to him, eager to abandon the confines of the dusty tunnel.
Jack crawls though first, pulling me in after him. I find myself in the center of a small utility closet filled with cleaning supplies. Jack fastens the flap, which turns out to be a heavy sheet of paper describing safety procedures, back to the wall. He puts his ear to the door, listening intently to the room beyond. I do the same and hear and feel a low hum vibrating straight through the metal to my skin. Satisfied, Jack turns the doorknob slowly.
Stepping into the room is like stepping into a dream; crossing the threshold between reality and something . . . more. Sterile, white walls reflect off rows of shiny, metal tables loaded with machines of every shape and size.
"What is this?"
"Not sure. Every city has one under the Big House. I think it may have been a place for scientists and doctors to work in the early days of the Cleanse. They are all abandoned now though. I imagine these machines used to do incredible things, but now they just gather dust. The tunnels, on the other hand, are quite useful."
"Why is it so bright in here? I've never seen candles burn like that," I say pointing to the ceiling.
"It's called electricity. It makes light, powers these machines, and keeps the air cool. I don't know how or why it is still running."
"It's incredible."
"Just a bit of old world magic now. The technology has been lost thanks to our great scientist saviors."
"Why didn't they pass any of it down?"
"They were planning to, but five of them died in a fire. The two remaining scientists didn't know a thing about electricity. Well, not enough to matter."
"So five of the most important men on Earth died in a fire? That sounds suspicious."
"Yes, it does, but that's the story we are told."
"You've been through these tunnels, where do they go?"
"The tunnels go to all of the cities. Beyond the cities are locked gates. I haven't seen them myself but others have. You would have to travel for weeks by foot to see them."
Jack walks across the room and I follow, ignoring the desire to twist knobs and push buttons. At the far end are metal tracks in the floor, emerging from and leading into a tunnel in the wall. I am both disappointed and relieved to see the absence of a train. Jack pulls a bag of supplies, and an electrical torch he calls a flashlight, out of a small closet near the entrance and disappears into one of the tunnel openings.
"Wait! Just wait. Jack, what if the train comes? Where do we go?"
"If a train comes we are dead."
"You've got to be kidding."
"Nope, but a train isn't going to come. They are dead and useless, just like the rest of this junk."
"You are 100% sure that this is safe?"
He comes back and takes my hand, bringing it up to his lips with a sweet smile.
"I have given up everything for you. Do you really think I would risk your life in any way?"
"Jack . . ."
"Don't tell me you love Grayson because you do not. You may have once, but that was a long time ago, and you don't even remember him then. You only feel something for him now because you think you are supposed to, and maybe your heart remembers his a little. You share companionship, grief, and the memory of love. That's all."
"It's more complicated than that."
"It's much more complicated than that, but we are not going to have that conversation just yet. Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go."
29 – Generals
SADIE
Grayson's obsessive determination to one up Jack has overpowered his urgency to return to the Big House. As a result, we are scarecrows hiding among the corn stalks, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kat and Jack as they leave. I understand his desire to learn how rebels are sneaking into our city, but I'm tired. Exhaustion pulls on my arms and legs, begging me to sink down into the dust below. Unsteady on my swollen feet, I silently beg Jack to make his appearance quickly. As the minutes tick by, and the door remains closed, I begin to get anxious. Why isn't he coming out? Surely he knows better. Could there be any doubt that Grayson would wait? If Jack's carelessness endangers our family, I will personally finish what the General started, with my bare hands.
A muscl
e in Grayson's jaw ticks as he stares down the door, and I am reminded just how powerful, and emotional, he can be. His fury and irritation over Jack's delay is written all over him. It's in the way his brow furrows and his hands clench into tight fists as he stares through the leaves. I can almost hear the intensity of his thoughts and I imagine they mirror my own. What are they doing in there? What is taking them so long?
My feet, which are swelling to the size of an overripe watermelon, start to pulse with their effort to escape my shoes. Shifting side to side, I try to relieve the pressure, but it doesn't help. These shoes would have been long ago shucked had the future General not been standing next to me. He already suspects something is up; the look on his face back in the cabin made that perfectly clear. There is no way in heck I am giving him any more proof of what he might already suspect.
The loud creak of the door fills the quiet field, and we both exhale, letting out the breath I didn't realize we were both holding. The tension between the farmhouse and us is thick enough to swim through when the two of them wander out, traveling in the direction of the wall. I can see the gears in Grayson's head turning, already planning to send scouts to cover every inch of the wall looking for the way in.
Jack places a hand against the small of Katherine's back. Grayson's dark eyes flame up with anger. His strong hands grip the stalks so tight, they crack in half under the force of his emotion. I will never understand men. They act as though we women are the ones who can't be trusted to separate our feelings from our thoughts. I'm deemed too emotional to be trusted with any real responsibility, yet here I am completely under control while our future leader seethes in a cornfield. I certainly hope Jack knows what he is doing. I have seen Grayson do some crazy things for that girl, unwilling and unable to let go of who she was.
GRAYSON
"Sir, may I ask you a question?"
"What is it Sadie? And please don't call me Sir, at least not when we are alone." I grumble as I watch Kat fade into the distance.
"It's plain as day you don't like Jack, so why are you letting him take Katherine? Don't get me wrong, I think we can trust him, but I'm concerned that you aren't putting up more of a fight. Her safety is still a priority right?"
"Kat's safety is always a concern, but she's tough and can take care of herself. My father and the city need me, she doesn't. Once I clean up this mess I will bring her back, but even then my entire focus is going to be preparing for war. As much as I love her, Katherine has proven to be a distraction and I can't afford to lose focus."
"A distraction? You have been suffering for nearly a year over her and now she is just a distraction?"
"Revenge is what's important now, Sadie, not love. Even if it takes me the rest of my life, I am going to get my revenge on Lucas. I am going to tear his Big House down brick by brick and use the stones to build his tomb. The day I stand on his grave is the day I can start trying to build a life with her."
"Wow, Grayson, that's really dark."
"I am dark," he says gruffly, turning those brimstone eyes on me. "Haven't you noticed?"
"Don't you think repairing things with Kat is more important than revenge?"
"Nothing is more important than revenge. Lucas destroyed my family, and I won't rest until I see the life drain from his eyes. My grandmother is lucky my father got to her first; my punishment would have been far worse than a gunshot."
"Grayson . . . "
"Don't stand there and pretend you don't know me Sadie. This is who I am, and I know you are well aware of it. I have been denied too many things in my life, but I won't be denied this. Not by anyone. I may have had nobler ambitions once, but now my passion is vengeance, pure and simple."
"You are right. I do know you. I can look into those hate-filled eyes and see you in them, but I am also familiar with your other side. The one that cried for Katherine when she was taken, who grieved her absence to the brink of madness. Just because I can recognize this manifestation of you, doesn't mean that I can't prefer the other. It wasn't so long ago that other passions ruled that heart of yours."
All I can do is stare at her, this young, innocent girl standing between the cornrows. How can I explain to her that my pain runs deeper than my love? That the grief over the deaths of my mother and brother consume me the same way the loss of Kat once did. I long for happiness like the next guy, but it doesn't sustain me the way the idea of revenge does. Her hopeful eyes stare up at me, trying to find the goodness deep within my soul, but she won't find any. I wish I had met her before I forgot how to be happy. Now that Kat is safe and free to be mine again, I am consumed by the fiery hate I feel for her brother. It burns inside me, threatening to tear me apart.
I watch Jack disappear out of view with Kat, and despite what I told Sadie, I feel a pang at the thought of them together. Feeling the rage building, I take off toward the Big House. Noticing Sadie having trouble keeping up, I slow. She smiles up at me, and I am surprised at how sweet this spunky girl can be.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to the first time I saw Sadie. It was a couple of weeks after Kat had been taken, and I was lousy drunk in the suit adjoining Katherine's. She found me there, crying like child. Alone, shattered, and ridiculously inebriated, I had planned to spend the night wallowing in self-pity. She looked beautiful standing in the doorway, the light from Kat's room framing a halo of blonde hair as she looked down at me with worried compassion.
I know I have changed in her eyes, morphed into the General she now finds before her, angry and resolute. Cutting a determined path through the fields, I charge, ready to claim the power that will allow me to avenge my pain once and for all. We leave the farmland and enter the city, an eerie quiet greeting us. In a way, the empty silence is more frightening than the screaming we left. We round the corner and that fear turns to pride when I see my men standing guard. The fast acting soldiers have managed to return the city to peace in the short time I have been away. They line the streets and stand watch at every door.
A young man named Jonah runs to my side with a quick salute, obviously relieved to see me.
"The army is in control," he says. "You have been declared General, which is the good news."
"And the bad news?"
"Your father has barricaded himself on the roof, won't let anyone come up. He claims he will shoot any guard who tries. He's armed and demanding to see Katherine. I am assuming your absence was to get her out of the city. It was a wise decision Sir."
With another salute, he runs back to his post. I had forgotten Sadie was there for a few minutes and I turn to find her wide eyed and slack jawed.
"He still wants to kill Kat! Thank goodness you sent her away. What are you going to do?"
"Go up there and talk to him. He hasn't received any medical treatment, so I don't see how he is even standing. I need to get him to agree to come down peacefully so I can get him to a doctor."
"I'm coming with you."
"Not a chance, he is still armed."
"Then at least take your guards with you."
"I can't. He has threatened to shoot them."
"But it is safe for you? You are the one who shot his fingers off!"
"I'm his son. There is no way that he will hurt me."
"The man shot his own mother! Sorry, but I am not letting you go up there to get shot."
"Why do you care so much?"
"Because . . . If you die, what happens to Kat? What happens to me?"
"You are not going."
"If you don't take me, I am going to follow you anyway."
"For Pete's sake, Sadie! Are all women this difficult?"
"Just the good ones."
With everyone confined to their homes and quarters, the Big House is silent and empty, our steps echoing through the halls. Heading toward the stairs that lead to the roof, I take Sadie's hand. I pretend it is for her sake, but I am honestly terrified.
Access to the roof, and its garden, used to be public, but after my mother's death my father couldn't
lay eyes on them. The thought of people going up into the garden gave him extreme anxiety so he had the staircase enclosed. The room he created around the stairwell had no other use, and was soon forgotten by most of the residents. I personally have always avoided it like the plague.
With a loud creak, the door swings on its underused hinges. The room is awash in the fading light of evening, casting soft shadows of the hanging cobwebs across the floor. My father's footsteps are carved into the dust, accompanied by large drops and small puddles of blood. Following the steps feels like tracking a ghost as we make our way to the haunted gardens above.
We break out into the sun, the light blinding against the white stones of the Big House. The garden has grown fallow, weeds and overgrown bushes taking over and creating a maze of vegetation. The sound of my father weeping fills the air. Pushing our way through the vines we follow his heart wrenching sobs until we find him sitting on the edge of the roof, looking down at the sidewalk below.
"We were just kids when we met, but even then I knew," he says through his tears. "The way her dark hair fell against the paleness of her shoulders, or how she would smile so sweet every time she saw me. She had the most incredible sense of humor, which I have always found admirable in a woman. Even at ten years old she was the most beautiful, intelligent person I had ever met. I have loved her all of my life."
"Father, you're hurt. Come away from the ledge and let's get you patched up."
"We both know there is no life for me here anymore," he says softly.
"You don't know that. Put the gun down and we can get this sorted out. I'm sure the people will understand your moment of weakness. They all loved mother."
"I always thought she left me," he says looking defeated. "When I found her down there, I thought she had given up on me. She adored you children, so it had to be me she was running from. Had I been that bad of a husband? All this time I thought she had wanted to escape me. But now I know."
My father's face is sallow and pale, the blood still dripping from his mangled hand and injured shoulder. I am not sure he would survive even if I could talk him off the roof. I may pretend to be in control, but deep down, I'm still a little boy watching his father fade before his eyes.
Veracity (The Seven Cities Book 1) Page 23