“Who says we can’t?”
Carrington stood too, a foot shorter than Remko but with just as much pride. “How can we change the city if we run away?”
“Why do we have to change the city? Why can’t we just start over and make our own city?”
“Because that isn’t the call!”
“And what if this isn’t my call?”
Pain registered on Carrington’s face and Remko was aware of the anger monster growing inside him and working its way into his tone.
“So you just want to leave, make our own city,” she pressed. “And then what?”
“Live! Be safe and breathe.”
“Is that what living is for you? Breathing? We’ll just end up right back where we started. Living isn’t about flesh and bone and breathing. It’s about faith. Faith that surpasses fear. Faith in something bigger than yourself. That’s what we’re doing here, showing people how to live!”
Remko paused and turned away from Carrington. He wanted to believe, wanted to feel the passion he saw in his wife’s eyes, but all he felt was turmoil. Collecting, swirling, spreading. Anger taking over his fear, taking over him.
“You sound just like him,” Remko said.
Carrington didn’t respond. Elise whimpered from her crib, and for a moment there was just stillness and her soft cries. Finally Carrington broke from the motionlessness and moved to pick Elise up from her bed. Remko could feel her anger, her unease, and a part of him wanted to just tell her what she wanted to hear. But the larger part of him needed space.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said. He started toward the exit when Carrington’s hand fell on his shoulder. He stopped, her touch threatening to defuse his anger.
“I see who you really are,” she said. “I just wish you did.”
Again her words so resembled Aaron’s that whatever warmth he’d felt from her touch froze. He didn’t glance back over his shoulder as he left their tent.
Remko hadn’t been walking long when he came upon the archer. Jesse was sitting alone on an old subway bench caked in age. It was plastic and the back held a faded picture of women standing in front of palm trees on a sandy white beach. The tagline written across the picture was lost to time, but Remko gathered that convincing people to travel to this destination was the goal. He couldn’t help but long for a place that looked as heavenly and peaceful as the one pictured.
Remko approached Jesse with hesitation. The boy was messing with his bow and Remko knew he could easily bury one of those arrows into his leg. Jesse raised his head at the sound of shuffling feet, and as quickly and smoothly as he lifted his arm, the bow was aimed at Remko’s chest. Jesse held the bow steady for only a moment before releasing Remko. The boy moved his belongings, which were next to him on the bench, and made room for Remko to sit.
Neither of them said anything for a long time. Remko stared out across the old subway, counting the stones on the opposite wall and the cross ties linking the strips of metal that made up the tracks ahead. Jesse fiddled with the sharp points of his arrows and cleaned the bow lying across his lap. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable between them. It felt natural, welcome even.
Finally Remko spoke. “I’m sorry about today.”
“Not your fault. I get it. Like I said before, I wouldn’t trust me either.”
“And thank you for helping Carrington today.”
Jesse nodded. “She’s one of the only people to be kind to me in a long time. That’s no small thing for me.”
Remko peered at the boy’s face and again found himself reflected in him.
“I’m sorry about Sam and your friend that was in prison,” Jesse said.
A quiet beat pulsed between them. “Where did you learn to shoot?” Remko asked.
Jesse placed his collection of arrows back inside the sack beneath the bench. “My grandfather.”
Remko waited for the boy to elaborate.
“He was a hunter in the Cattle Lands. He worked for a butcher there, but his skill with a bow made him valuable enough that he was granted permission to hunt for himself as well. He used to take me when he could.”
“Did your dad hunt too?”
Jesse let out a sharp laugh and Remko registered his distaste. “My father didn’t do much of anything besides drink.”
“Is that why you left?”
“It was bearable when my grandfather was still alive, but after he died a couple of years ago, I just couldn’t handle it anymore.”
“But why leave the city entirely?”
Jesse paused and placed his bow beside his bag of arrows. He seemed to be working through how to answer. “The Authority had my grandfather killed. They said it was a hunting accident, a run-in with a wild boar—as if a boar could take out my grandfather. That man wasn’t afraid of anything. He didn’t have accidents. He was too skilled for that. No, he was murdered, at the Authority’s hands.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He’d go missing for days at a time, got fired once or twice for missing too many days of work. He wasn’t exactly an Authority supporter. He believed people were better off fending for themselves. He could survive out here without the Authority or the CityWatch, and I think that made a couple of people uncomfortable.”
“That doesn’t seem like enough to have a man killed.”
“He had a pretty big mouth to go along with his attitude. He started telling some guys that he knew of a place over the western mountains, another livable society.”
“Yeah, they call it the Trylin Myth City; some of the soldiers I used to patrol with would talk about it.”
“Well, my grandfather was convinced it was real. He told people he was leaving the Authority City in search of it. He ended up dead before he could.”
“The Authority gets antsy when they suspect any kind of threat from the outside world.”
Jesse stared forward and fell silent.
“I’m sorry.”
Jesse nodded, and once again they were surrounded by comfortable silence. Long minutes passed, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
“You ever think it’s real?” Jesse asked as if reading Remko’s mind.
“I guess nothing’s impossible. Seems unlikely, though. I would imagine the Authority would have discovered something like that by now.”
“Who says they haven’t? Maybe they’re just keeping it from us.”
Remko’s mind drifted to images of what could be. Maybe white beaches and palm trees lay on the other side of those distant mountains. Like the ones in the picture behind his back, a place free from the threat and fear of being hunted. It felt almost unfair that a place like that might actually exist while they suffered like rats, forced to hide in tunnels and run for their lives.
“We could find it, you know,” Jesse said. “If it exists, we could get there. My grandfather talked about it enough that I at least have a general idea of where he was convinced it was. I could show you on a map. You guys have enough supplies and manpower that we actually could get there.”
The idea was so appealing that Remko didn’t know how to respond. If Jesse had showed up a couple of months ago and suggested leaving this place behind, Remko would never have entertained the idea, but now it was impossible not to.
“Imagine it—our own city. Free from the Authority’s rules and twisted religion. Just people learning to live together, starting over and rebuilding the world. It could be good,” Jesse said.
A thought occurred to Remko. “Is that why you’ve been hanging around? Because you hoped you could convince us to go with you?”
Jesse dropped his eyes to the concrete floor and fiddled with his fingers. “I just thought with all the troubles you’ve faced recently, maybe you were looking for a change. I can’t imagine why you’d want to stay here forever,” he said, motioning to the tunnel around him. “And I probably can’t make the journey on my own.”
“So you need us?” Remko teased.
Jesse leaned back against the bench
and smirked. “I’ll deny that if anyone asks.”
Again Remko found himself caught up in the idea of leaving. What would it be like to live in a place where he could watch his daughter grow up free? To be able to make her own choices, without the constant fear of pursuit. How would she be different? Who would she choose to be?
“Why do you stay so close to the city?” Jesse asked. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
Remko sighed. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to figure it out too.”
“It has something to do with Aaron, right?”
Remko didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he could feel his anger stirring at the mere mention of the man.
“That guy seems a bit crazy. I mean, talking about saving the city and all through a higher power. You ask me, that city can’t be saved—not by any power.”
Remko smiled. “People need hope; they need something to believe in.”
“I get it. Hope is hard to come by,” Jesse said. He was staring straight ahead again, seemingly lost in thought. “So you don’t believe in all this?”
Remko didn’t look at Jesse. How was he supposed to answer? With the truth? What was the truth? “Right now I’m just trying to figure out how to keep people alive.”
Jesse nodded. “I will admit, though, there is something about Aaron. Something different.”
Remko recognized the awe in Jesse’s voice and again felt anger snaking up the back of his neck. Everyone around him was enamored by the thought of Aaron, all of them so willing to follow him into danger. Even Neil had spent time sitting at the man’s feet. For a moment, hearing Jesse talk about leaving this place, about heading toward a mythical city that probably didn’t even exist, had released Remko from the constant struggle that roared inside. But now the interest behind Jesse’s words reminded him that this prison he was living in was real . . . and suffocating.
“I know Trylin is a long shot, but you could at least think about it,” Jesse said. “I understand the hope Aaron makes people feel, but we could make our own hope.”
Remko knew he should quash the kid’s thoughts about the Seers finding a better place. He should tell him that this was where they were going to stay. Like he had told so many others. Like he just recently told Neil. But the words were getting harder and harder to produce. Instead Remko just nodded and Jesse seemed satisfied.
“I should head back to camp,” Remko said. “You wanna walk with me?”
“I’m not sure I’m really that welcome.”
“Don’t worry about Wire; he’s probably cooled off by now.”
“Probably isn’t really good enough for me. That kid is scrappier than he looks. I’ll take my chances out here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m good on my own.”
“Don’t go too far. I may need you and your bow skills.” Remko turned to walk off and heard Jesse chuckle behind him.
“Guess I need to start charging for my services,” Jesse said.
Remko smiled and started the trek back toward camp, his mind running with impossible thoughts of Trylin and freedom. True freedom—freedom he could make himself and not wait for someone to give him.
20
When Remko arrived back at camp, the calm of sleep was settling on the tents around him. Thoughts of leaving and finding their own way of life still spun through his mind with each step he put between himself and Jesse. The thought was foolish but intoxicating, and he couldn’t chase it away.
He wasn’t quite ready to face Carrington yet. She would still be frustrated, and he would say something he didn’t mean or talk about Trylin as if it were an actual option, which would only make her more upset. So he decided to check on Kate and talk with Connor. The doctor hardly slept; Remko was pretty sure he suffered from insomnia, but in situations like this, insomnia could be helpful.
He remembered Neil mentioning that he and Ramses and Carrington had recovered some samples from the facility earlier and that Connor had been running tests on them. As expected, the medical tent was still lit, whereas most of the surrounding tents had already gone dark. Remko wasn’t exactly sure of the time, but it was late enough for most of the world to be asleep. He pictured Carrington lying awake in bed, waiting for her husband to return, unable to sleep as his painful words bounced around in her head. He pushed the thought out of his mind as he ducked inside the medical tent.
Connor was sitting at a table assembled from stacked crates since Kate was currently laid out asleep on his worktable. Her leg was bandaged nicely and the color had returned to her face. She was breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Remko was glad to see she was doing better.
Connor’s head shot up from his microscope and he nodded toward Remko. “Burning the midnight oil?”
“Something like that,” Remko said. He walked across the tent to stand beside Connor and peered over the man’s shoulder. “Anything useful yet?”
“Well, we can be sure of one thing. These are two different serums, and one of them matches the traces I found in Kal’s blood.”
“So Kal was at the facility?”
“Appears that way, and if Ramses’s descriptions of what he saw there are accurate, he was likely held and tested like an animal.”
Remko paused, trying to imagine the horrible things his wife and brother had seen earlier today. With everything that had happened when he first arrived back at camp, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to either of them about their trip to the facility yet. If Kal had indeed been imprisoned and tested, it could help explain the man’s mental breakdown. His anger was stirred once more as he considered it. But he wasn’t shocked; the Authority was capable of anything. “Any idea why?” he asked.
“I’m working on it; these combinations of fluids are vast and complicated. It may be beyond my abilities.”
Remko placed his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Keep trying.”
Connor nodded.
“Is she going to be okay?” Remko asked, tilting his head toward Kate.
“Oh yeah. Close call, but she’s a fighter. She’ll be fine in a couple days. She was lucky the bullet missed all of her main arteries.”
Remko knew he’d run out of excuses to delay going back to his tent. It was time to face reality. He gave Connor’s shoulder another friendly pat. “Try to get some sleep.”
“That’s not really my thing,” Connor said.
Remko left the man working away and stepped out into the dark tunnel air. He could barely make out his tent’s outline a couple of yards ahead and took a deep breath before closing the distance.
Carefully he moved into the tent and paused, expecting Carrington to stir. To his surprise she was fast asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. Remko moved slowly around to the opposite side of the bed and softly laid himself down into the empty space beside her.
He held his breath, making sure not to wake her as he made himself comfortable, and then stared off into the darkness overhead. His body was weary, his mind exhausted, but he knew he wasn’t going to find any rest. Even if he managed to drift off, nightmares would chase him awake. They would remind him where he was, of his prison masked in the lie of freedom, and of the costs of following Aaron.
Morning came with aches in Remko’s bones. He stirred awake, feeling as though he had just drifted off to sleep, and found his tent empty. Sounds of activity came from outside, signaling that the day was already in full swing.
He sat up, moaning at the soreness in his shoulders and back. Connor would tell him that’s where he carried his stress and that the only remedy was relaxation and sleep, which was ironic coming from a man with insomnia.
He swung his legs free of the thin covers and stood. If it wasn’t enough that his thoughts had tormented him while he was sleeping, they didn’t give him a single moment to collect himself before they launched their frontal attack again now that he was vertical. Sam was still imprisoned by the Authority, a strange serum was affecting people’s sanity, huma
n experiments were happening at a heavily guarded facility, Wire was convinced there was a traitor living among them, Carrington was angry with him, and in general, Remko was struggling just to convince himself to leave the solace of his tent. Worse still was that behind it all, the idea of leaving as Jesse had suggested played like a soft melody tempting him to abandon all else. Could he not just take his family and go? Could he ever convince Carrington to follow him as he had followed her?
The anger monster that had latched itself to his chest hadn’t dissolved in the night, and Remko felt it lingering as he pulled on his boots. It clouded his mind and interfered with his ability to control his emotions. He knew he was a walking fuse, on edge, simply waiting for the spark that would set him off. When he was young and couldn’t find his words, his father used to tell him it was better to use his frustration to induce deeper focus. He had advised his son to let the pain be fuel—better to use it than to fight it. So that’s what he would do. Release the anger spreading through his blood and use it as an extra dose of adrenaline to propel him forward.
Remko stepped out of his tent and caught the attention of several nearby Seers. They glanced up at him slyly and then turned back to each other, their faces filled with suspicion and anxiety. He knew the second he was out of earshot they would be whispering about him. His failures, his inability to lead, his encounter with Neil in the middle of camp the evening before.
Good, his anger scoffed. Let them talk while they hide like children under their mothers’ skirts. Wonder how long they’d survive alone out here with the pressure of the world breathing down their necks.
“Remko,” someone called.
He turned to see Ramses jogging toward him, Connor on his heels. Both of them looked rattled and Remko muted his anger. They nodded, signaling Remko to step out of plain sight and beyond the range of any lingering ears.
Once safely tucked between two tents, Ramses spoke. “Kate is missing.”
“What?” Remko said.
“She’s not in the medical tent this morning, and we can’t find her anywhere.”
The Calling Page 20