He turns to me with wide eyes that make him look his age. Back home, he'd be on the cusp of adulthood-- the type of guy who'd be enjoying his freedom before he became weighted down with adult responsibilities.
"Yes. And almost every day we came here."
I nod and chew my lip, taking his response as a gentle redirect away from him and his past and towards my future. "Why didn't you want to show me this?"
Brandon looks at me then away again. This time he doesn't look to the playground, just away from me and it.
"It's not safe." He exhales as he turns back. "I knew someone, the care taker here. Her name was Mary. She was a human, too."
My breath stills and I wait for him to continue telling this story from his past, expecting him to confess his love for her.
Brandon actually grins. "I did love her, but not like that. She was a little old for me. She was Jimmy's age." He gets quiet again, the grin sliding away as he says, "Jimmy loved her."
All my weight is on the balls of my feet as I lean in listening to him. When he says it, I nearly fall over.
Brandon is quick to add, "At least from what I'd seen of her thoughts, he acted like he loved her. I've never been able to read his thoughts, so I don't know for sure."
The sharing of this secret past belonging to Brandon and his brother falls between the two of us like magic, linking us, solidifying our bonds of friendship. It doesn't escape my notice that Brandon can't read Jimmy's thoughts, but I'm too interested in the idea that Jimmy could have loved a regular human girl once. I can't help thinking about his handsome face. It must have drawn in that girl, Mary, so easily.
"What happened?"
"She died." Brandon's foot scrapes on the concrete. "She was attacked here where it should have been safe."
But nowhere is truly safe. Not even the Neutral Territory. I press at my face with both hands, trying to ignore the thoughts turning back to my mother. One hand reaches out and rests against the textured wall of the old building, forcing my mind to focus on this moment even as my thoughts continue on in the background.
"So that's why you didn't tell me about this option?"
Brandon shakes his head, his hair falling low over his eyes. "I'm sure she was killed because of her tie to us-- me and Jimmy."
What do you say to that? There is nothing. It's a guilt that Brandon must carry around with him daily. And having me dumped in his lap has probably only reopened the wound.
Some quiet thought whispers, Jimmy did it. It almost doesn't feel like my thought but one whispered into my ear. Brandon said that Jimmy cared, so why would he have done it? And the answer comes on its own as I think back to our encounter with Jimmy. To cover it, I speak, not letting the thought take root and grow.
"Who did it?"
Brandon looks at me with his hair in his eyes. "Killer most likely. He's a whole other one I need to tell you about. But not now. Later."
He stands, and we start walking again, but the thought is still there. I look up at Brandon, still thinking it, while trying to shove it away. It wouldn't be productive to ask, but still it is a risk I have to take.
"Is it possible that Jimmy did it?"
Brandon's lips press together and his eyes harden. "Why would you ask that?"
His voice is low and it frightens me, but I still trudge on, my voice so tiny even in my own ears. "Because she was a weakness."
He doesn't stop, but he doesn't speak. We continue on, side by side, the lengthening shadows of dilapidated buildings stretching across the street.
"It's possible." Brandon's voice is low. Not a whisper, but a deep admission that barely makes it past his chest and out of his mouth.
There isn't much more to say on it. Jimmy's, "See you tomorrow," sticks on the forefront of my thoughts and I shiver. No doubt I will.
Thirteen
My stomach hurts from the moment I wake up. It's my last day at Brandon's.
“I'm sure he'll be by after dinner,” Brandon says.
“Henri or...” The words trail off. I can't say them, but the thought is there. Brandon knows who I mean. He shrugs and gives me only a tiny bit of food. I probably look as sick as I feel.
“I'll take you if I have to.”
I thank him, but I have a feeling that he won't have a choice. Not if Jimmy is involved.
The day passes in a blur. Henri isn't just the leader here, which is more than enough, but he's also a revered figure of the Revolution and the one credited with building the Southlands which isn't much more than an army in training. It makes sense why even the Neutrals fear him.
At dinner, I can't focus. My stomach is practically vibrating with unease. Brandon tries to encourage me to eat something, but it's too much of a risk for me to take. I keep a hand on my stomach and hold still, trying to fight the pain and the creeping feeling of doom.
Brandon doesn't bother forcing me to eat. He stands up from his chair with controlled precision. "All right. I'll take you.”
I stand up too quickly, awkwardly, not at all as carefully controlled as he stood, and I have to put a hand on the table. My duffel bag sits close by, and I regain my balance, and push off the table to step over and grab it, but just before my hand has even reached the bag, there's a knock at the door.
I stop in front of the bag, mid-movement, and rise to look at the door. Brandon is closest. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly as he goes to open the door. Not a word passes his lips before the visitor steps into the apartment, his light, icy eyes falling on me and sending a shiver down my spine that makes me jump.
“Time to go." Jimmy slides his arms together across his chest in a smooth careful movement that makes him look even wider and sturdier.
Brandon doesn't move. "I'm going to take her.”
Jimmy turns slowly towards his brother. He doesn't threaten but it is clear that there is one. “Henri gave me the order."
Brandon shakes his head, his mouth a straight line. “You don't take orders. Not even from Henri. You never have. And Henri would never give you an order anyway."
"He did this time."
My muscles ache just watching the two of them. I'm frozen in place, not sure what to do. Jimmy stands only feet away, his shoulders aimed towards me but his gaze on Brandon as if daring him to interfere.
"I'll go." The words flee from my mouth into the tense quiet between the three of us.
Brandon looks at me with that look of his that speaks of responsibility. He has taken care of me the past week while I've learned how to deal with the hurt and pain of being abandoned by my own people. We've bonded, and I don't want to go, but I couldn't bear to see him hurt. It feels as if this is one of those moments where he could be. Jimmy and Henri don't feel like the sort of people who care about sentimentality. They do what they need to do when it has to be done and expect everyone else around them to do the same.
Brandon starts to say my name, but I cut him off. "I'll go."
"C'mon." Jimmy motions with his hand for me to step between them.
I do it very quickly and without glancing up at either of them. Once I'm out, I stop and wait, expecting Jimmy to lead the way. The door to the apartment shuts quietly behind me. Then his hand with its rough fingers falls onto the back of my neck and gently pushes me forward. I gasp, surprised at his touch, terrified to be under that hand after I've seen what it's capable of. Perhaps this is the night where I just disappear.
I don't dare shake his hand off any more than I dare to look back at him. I swallow roughly and forge ahead into the dimming light.
~Intermission~
Intermission One
"There once were two brothers, and they fought each other viciously."
The boy looked up at Mary with his wide blue eyes and his lips pressed tightly together. Other than his small hand picking at the rough hem of his pants, he sat very still.
She cleared her throat and continued. "It was such vicious fighting that people became involved. They had to take one side or the other. There was
no neutral side. But the more people that became involved, the more vicious the fighting became. And it didn't help that each brother had powers."
Mary shoved her hair behind her ear, running her fingers over the short strands to encourage them to stay. Most children interrupted at this point in the story. What child didn't want to know what powers the brothers had? But this boy didn't speak. He sat and patiently waited for her to continue, and Mary struggled to remember how to tell the rest of the story without the interruptions.
"No one knows what powers they had, of course, but they were powerful. The fighting between the people grew worse. The brothers started to take out the other's opposing forces until there was nothing and no one left. They destroyed the world and everything on it."
She paused again, leaning back on her hands in the grass. The boy looked at her as if he knew he'd be expected to ask something. His blue eyes looked from her to the ground and back up to her again. The dark lashes emphasized the careful movements as he turned over his thoughts. She was sure he'd ask it. Most children did if they made it past the part with the powers and didn't head off to round up other children to play the game.
"Then how're we here?"
Mary smiled. It was the perfect set up. That was exactly the question she asked her father.
"That is because they missed a spot." She watched the boy, but no smile broke out on his face. He didn't even argue with her or demand to know more the way she had when her father had told her the same story. He just stared off into the distance as if expecting his mother to return.
Mary wanted to keep him distracted. She hoped she could at least form enough of a bond with him that he'd tell her more about himself. Was there someone she needed to contact or get a hold of? Something was seriously wrong. It was all over the boy's face. But he wasn't talking about it and no one else was offering her any answers. "They're still out there you know."
The boy looked up at her then with eyes that looked less dull, but still couldn't be called bright. "Who?"
"The two brothers. They're still out there under the ground. You know how sometimes the ground shakes? That's them, turning over in their sleep."
His lips parted as he looked up at her. She had him. They still had a way to go, but he was at least present for the first time since his mother had taken her leave.
It had been the saddest goodbye she'd seen in a long time. The woman had walked him to the care center, spoken a few words to him, and then turned around to walk away. But the boy had tried to follow her. The woman wheeled on him with her eyes narrowed and her finger pointed at his chest. Whatever words had been spoken weren't overheard, but the desperate look to her face was clear. The boy stayed still after that and she walked away.
Mary glanced to the others working the care center with her. She was the only one stuck on the care center grounds. All the rest who came to help were the pets of tribe members so they had to have seen him before, but no one would even look up at him. The one nearest her shook her head to discourage Mary from walking up to him. It boggled her mind. He was a child in need and no one wanted to help him.
It took her a moment before she realized the boy was actually looking past her. He stood up as he said, "My brother's here."
She stood up too and turned to see a boy coming towards them from the other side of the care center, his eyes locked on the young boy. He was tall and skinny, but hardly older than Mary. The other care takers on the playground watched him nervously, and Mary felt her stomach burble.
There was something in his movements and the way he watched her. She couldn't place her finger on it exactly, but she could see what made people nervous. His eyes were gray, almost lacking in color compared to the younger boy's eyes. They didn't quite match his warm complexion. They were cold while the rest of him suggested warmth.
The younger boy stepped forward, in front of Mary, as the older boy walked up.
"Where is she?" The older one sounded angrier than the younger one. Mary took a step back. The movement caught his attention and he looked up at her with his eyes freezing her in place.
"I dunno." The younger boy said. He stood firm in front of Mary and she found herself thankful to have his small body between her and the other boy. "She didn't say."
The older boy was still looking at Mary. He had just come from training. Sweat stuck to him and there were fresh bruises on his arms. It was clear he was a tribal, and a tribal close to her age was dangerous. They had the most to prove and lacked responsibility. If they carted her off, the worst they would get would be a stern talking to about being responsible and how difficult it would be to find a human who belonged to no one and could be trusted with the children overnight.
His eyes narrowed on her. "Who're you?"
"Mary."
"Whose pet are you?"
The assumption was insulting. She was no one's pet. "I live here." Mary crossed her arms and stood up straight before him.
The older boy watched her trying to stand bravely in front of him. The suspicion etched into his eyes melted away. The younger boy between them seemed to relax.
"This is Brandon," the older boy said just as the younger one, Brandon turned around to look at her. "I'm Jimmy. Thanks for watching him."
Intermission Two
In the fresh morning air, still moist with slowly drying dew, Jimmy stood leaning against one of the blossoming trees without a shirt on.
Mary tried to keep her eyes on the children in front of her. Lacking a shirt wasn't unusual, especially for those who were training. They said it was because it got in the way, but Mary had a feeling that it was also just because of the pride they took in their back tattoos. Rank was shown in those tattoos.
She caught herself looking again. Jimmy made people nervous when he hung around the care center. No one would tell her why they were nervous or what there was to fear. Mary had the most contact with Jimmy and Brandon and she'd never noticed anything fear worthy in the few months she'd known them.
Except that look in Jimmy's eyes. He glanced at her and she looked away quickly towards the children. There wasn't one word she could use to describe them. Some of her books mentioned the "cold eyes" of certain characters and that was close, but it suggested a lack of emotions, and that wasn't the case.
Mary patted at the large lump in her pocket of the old apron covering her dress. His visits during break were generally erratic, but she'd had a feeling she'd see him. It was just something in her stomach-- a gut feeling. And as a last thought that morning, as she was heading out to greet some of the kids, she'd shoved an apple into her apron.
She glanced at him again. He was still there, but his eyes were already on her as if he were reading her thoughts and seeing right through her.
Brandon was off playing with some of the other children. He had stopped briefly to chat with Jimmy before going back with a glance and a smile at Mary. If he knew what she intended to do, he hadn't said a word. At least not to her. The boy could pick up thoughts so he had to know. He'd told her he couldn't control it. Thoughts found their way past his defenses.
She turned and walked up the hill towards the tree Jimmy stood under. One of her hands dug into her pocket to grip the apple, the other tugged on her apron to pull the two apart. There were eyes on her from the others. But the children were all in good hands. Under Jimmy's glare, none of the kids would do much misbehaving anyway. It was almost comical how well behaved they were when he was around.
Mary held the apple out to him with one hand, her arm stretched out as if standing too near him might burn her. He reached out for it without thinking. It was automatic. His hand slowed as he reached the apple, and her eyes focused on the gray of his. No, cold was definitely not the right word for them. Maybe at first glance without knowing, but standing near she could see something there.
She pulled her hand away once he had it, his fingers brushing on hers. "I never see you eat."
He seemed dumbfounded. She smiled at him and even heard a nervous chu
ckle come from the back of her throat. Mary shoved her hands into her pockets to stop the shaking.
"Thanks." His eyes were so clear in the bright sunlight. It was like the way the morning sun shone on the dew hanging from the plants and the playground.
Jimmy held the apple in both hands, looking at it to find his first bite. She stood next to him. Some of the caretakers watched them from afar. A pair of very blue eyes caught hers, but she glanced away at the first snap from the apple. Jimmy was actually eating it. Not in large bites, but small bites that were almost polite.
"You make them nervous, you know." She said it quietly and didn't add that he made her nervous as well.
The corners of his mouth turned up. "I know."
She could only hope he wasn't a mind reader. The subtle hint of a smile from him nearly tugged her heart out through her mouth. It was a strange sensation for her that wasn't entirely unpleasant though she knew it was stupid. But it was not something she could ignore.
At the void created by her silence, he turned and grinned at her, his eyes narrowing even as they sparkled in the bits of sunlight that made its way through the tree. Could he read her mind? The panic edged up into her throat at the thought. The truth was probably worse; he could just read it in her face.
"Why do you come here?" The words blurted out without her meaning them to, but her brain and her body seemed to be on different planes, fighting completely different wars. It was too late to take them back. She cringed while trying to not cringe, but she couldn't look away from him.
He turned towards her, one arm still on the trunk of the tree. "Just keeping an eye on my brother."
He bore the heavy weight of responsibility to raise and protect his brother when other kids his age were out enjoying their rank and power. Mary nodded. "I watch out for him. He's fine."
He stood taller than her even leaning. They stood close, side by side against the tree. Her heart beat too hard. She was unsteady on her feet. If he hadn't been able to tell just from her face, he'd be able to tell from the way she shook as she stood next to him.
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