by Tracey Ward
I groan, lowering my fist. “Not now, Abby.”
She chuckles as she comes to sit behind the small desk in the lobby. “Don’t act too happy to see me.”
“I didn’t.”
Her smile widens. “How’s her highness?”
“The Eventide is fine.”
“She didn’t look fine when she came in.”
“Then why’d you ask me?”
“I don’t know, Grayson. Must be because you’re so much fun to talk to. I really miss our quality time together, you know?”
I snap my radio back onto my belt. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” she replies blandly.
I don’t.
***
Liv is asleep when I get back to her room. Dr. Kanden is sitting in a chair in the corner with the lights off, a candle burning on the table. It’s exactly the way it was when Liv first woke up, only now the room smells like peppermint.
“What happened to her?” Dr. Kanden asks me almost silently.
“I took her to the beach. Her mom was one of the bodies. I guess she has a brother but he wasn’t there.”
She shakes her head sadly. “Poor girl. What a nightmare for her. Is she staying with us?”
“For the year. Until her boats come around again.”
“That’s good. She doesn’t need any more trauma.” Dr. Kanden eyes me shrewdly in the low light. “You’ll take good care of her, won’t you, Grayson?”
I shift on my feet, my blood rushing. Not boiling like before, but flashing with a nervous energy I don’t know how to name. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. You’re a good man. You and your brother both. You got it from your dad.”
I smile fondly at the floor. “He’s a lot to live up to.”
“You’re doing a great job.”
“Thanks.”
“How’s your side feeling?”
I immediately straighten up, my nerves pinching and shrieking uncomfortably. “It’s not so bad.”
“You look tired,” she argues, unconvinced.
“It’s been a long day.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
I shrug. “In a chair outside her door?”
“Is that what Fuller told you to do?”
“He told me to stay with her.”
“Is he going to send anyone to relieve you?”
“I don’t think so. At least not until the doors are sealed.”
She clicks her tongue in annoyance. “You have to sleep. You can’t heal if you don’t.”
“I know.”
“You can’t sleep in a chair.”
I run my hand over my eyes, trying to erase the burn that’s building. “I don’t have a lot of other options.”
“There’s a folding cot in the next room.” She grunts, pushing herself out of the chair. She points to it as she goes to the door. “Pull that out into the hall and I’ll wheel the cot in here.”
I shake my head adamantly. “I can’t sleep in here with her.”
“You’re gonna have to. There’s not room to safely set up the bed in the hall and you can’t sleep in another room. Anything could happen to her.”
“I thought you said the hospital was safe.”
“And what did Fuller think of that?”
I pinch my lips together between my teeth.
“Uh huh,” she hums knowingly. “You want to make that miserable man happy, you better bunk in here.”
Chapter Sixteen
Liv
I wake up in the dark. I haven’t been out long, I can feel it. I know it in the fluid feel of my limbs and the crust of salty tears still caking my cheeks.
A candle is burning. A man is snoring. It takes me by surprise, the entire situation just as disturbing as it was the first time I woke up here, but my brain is quick to remind me where I am. To slam me with reality.
I’m in the hospital in the mountains. I’m trapped. My mother is dead. My brother is missing.
I feel like crying again, a thought that spikes my heart rate anxiously. I’m afraid to let the wave wash over me, wash me away. I’m afraid to be that girl again. The girl on the front of the ship who doesn’t care if she sinks or soars.
I almost get up to go to Grayson, to wake him up. Make him talk to me. Make him listen to me. He would hate me for it but I don’t care. I don’t want to be alone in my head with my thoughts and my broken heart. I want someone to make it all go away. I want that shelter from the storm the way Easton carried me inside out of the rain. I want protection.
I want my brother.
I choke on a sob, trying to silence it in the back of my throat. Grayson hears it, his breathing changing and going quiet. I hold my breath, waiting him out. Eventually his sleepy snore picks up again. It’s soft and rhythmic, steady as a heartbeat. As a metronome on a piano in a gilded gallery.
I let it take me down. I time my breaths to match his, syncing myself to his life, and I let him lead me on. Blind in the dark. Lost, but not alone.
***
The next time I wake up he’s gone. The candle has burned out and the door is open. I panic a little inside. I’m worried there’s been an attack. That he’s been hurt, or worse; replaced.
A minute later he shows up, a long shadow in the doorway with a biscuit and a cold cup of water in his hand. He doesn’t say anything as he hands them to me. Neither do I, but I take them gratefully and when he goes to sit on a chair in the hall with a book in his hand, I turn in my bed so I can see him before falling back to sleep.
***
“How long have I been here?” I ask the ceiling.
Grayson’s cot creaks in protest. He must be moving. He’s always moving, always adjusting and grunting, waking up in the middle of the night to stand and stretch. He’s hurt in some way but he won’t tell me how.
“Um,” he groans thoughtfully, “three full days. I think.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost five. Dinner will be here soon.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You want to know the hour?”
“Yes.”
“We’re in the Eighth.”
I laugh shortly, but there’s no joy in it. Only disbelief. I’ve never been out of the Seventh hour before. I shudder to think what the world looks like outside.
“Is it dark?”
“It should be getting there,” he answers on a yawn.
“Cold?”
“Yep.”
“Have you ever been outside this late?”
“Normally, yeah. We don’t always have to close the doors this early. The storms are making us do it this year.”
“Are they closed now?”
“They shut them yesterday.”
I swallow thickly. “What’s it like outside?”
“Dark. Cold.”
He’s being glib. He does that a lot.
“Do you want to elaborate on that?” I insist.
He doesn’t answer right away. Maybe he’s deciding how to shut my questions down, maybe he’s actually formulating an answer. What he’s not doing is ignoring me. As aloof as he is, he’s never snubbed me.
“What do you want to know?” he finally asks reluctantly.
I shrug even though he can’t see it from across the room. “I don’t know.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Have you ever seen the stars?”
“Of course I have,” he chuckles.
“What are they like?”
“Flames in the sky. It’s terrifying. You’re not missing anything.”
I groan in annoyance. “That’s not what they’re like.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve seen pictures. There was a painting in the Mayor’s office.”
“So if you know what they look like why are you asking me?”
“Because you’ve actually seen them. I want to know what it’s like to see them.”
“
It’s like seeing lights in the sky,” he explains dryly.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. A lot of them are planets that are already burned out but their last light is still traveling. They’ll all burn out for good someday.”
I frown. “That’s sad.”
“That’s science.”
I think I prefer poetry.
“When you step outside in the Eighth hour, what’s the first thing you think?” I press, hoping to get a real answer. One that doesn’t end with the slow, gasping death of the entire universe.
“I think it’s cold. And dark.”
“Oh, forget it,” I moan, rolling over. Turning my back on him.
Minutes go by. Long minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty. Nearly thirty. I think we’re done, that the discussion is over and he’s gotten his way, nettling me into silence.
“I think about how I’m going to miss it,” he says suddenly, his voice filling the room low from the floor up to the ceiling, warm and pensive. “I step outside in the Eighth when the sun is gone and it’s getting too cold to stand, and I think how insanely long the next six months are going to be.”
I lick my lips, his honesty leaving a strange taste on my tongue. “Does everyone feel that way?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked everyone.”
“What is it that you know you’re going to miss?”
“The sky,” he answers immediately. “The air. The way it smells.”
“It smells like the ocean here.”
“Imagine that.”
I roll my eyes. “I mean it smells familiar. When we went outside t-to… well, it smelled like home. It was nice. For a second.”
He shifts on his cot, grunting painfully. “It’s going to be a long year for you.”
“Who are you kidding, Grayson?” I ask sadly. “It’s going to be a long year for all of us.”
Chapter Seventeen
Gray
Liv is awake a lot. Even when she shouldn’t be, she’s up. I hear her crying sometimes and I wonder what I’m supposed to do about that, if anything. There’s not a single thing I could say to make her feel better. I know because when my parents died no one could make it right for me. All you can do is struggle through and let time pass. It won’t heal your wounds but you’ll get used to them. That ache will become part of your routine like brushing your teeth and losing your keys.
The night after Liv went outside I asked Karina to use her key to go into my apartment to hide Liv’s diamond necklace. I remember seeing her mom’s on her neck there on the beach, but I haven’t seen it or heard anything about it since. I’ve started to wonder if her mom was buried with it.
Since I gave her permission to break into my place Karina has done it almost every day. She’s brought me books and spare clothes. It’s nice of her but I’m surprised at how much it annoys me that she’s gone in without asking. It never did before.
“I took your laundry,” she tells me, setting a stack of books down on the lobby desk. “Your basket made the closet smell like dirty feet. You should send it down more often.”
“I’ve been kind of busy lately.”
“Busy or trapped?”
“Yes.”
She grins. “Where is she now?”
“Taking a bath.”
“You don’t get to watch?”
“I’ll catch the next show,” I mutter, checking the spines on the books she’s brought.
“Lucky you. She’s beautiful.”
“You think so?”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t know. She’s alright.”
“She’s more than alright, Gray.”
“I guess.”
“What does that mean?”
I stand up straight, surprised by her sharp tone. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing.”
“No one says ‘nothing’ that quickly unless there’s something.”
“Sometimes ‘nothing’ just means nothing.”
I search her face, looking for answers. It’s tight, the corners of her mouth drawn down harshly. “Are you pissed at me?”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
She blinks rapidly, floundering. “I’m not, I just… forget it. Forget I said anything.”
“You’re being weird.”
“And you’re being evasive.”
“About what?”
“About her.”
“Who? Liv? What about her?”
“Just admit she’s pretty.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s weird that you won’t,” she accuses as though it’s obvious.
“It’s weirder that you want me to.”
“Admit it.”
I stop cold, realization dawning on me. “Are you jealous?”
“No!”
“Lying.”
“Stop that.”
“Stop what? Being right?”
“Yes!”
I grin, sliding my hands into my pockets. “You want to keep your voice down? This is hospital, after all.”
“You’re a jerk,” she seethes quietly. Her cheeks are flushed red with anger and embarrassment.
“Just admit you’re jealous.”
“I already did.”
“Not directly. Not in clear, concise words that I can savor and replay in my mind over and over again.”
“You’re the worst.”
“And you’re prettier than her.”
She stops, her eyes reading mine. It makes me nervous, makes my stomach drop and flip and roll, but I hold her gaze. I keep steady, and when her lips curl up into a warm smile I don’t even care that she’s acting crazy. I maybe even kind of like it.
“Really?” she asks softly.
“Yeah, really. No contest.”
Her smile blossoms, blooming on her face in a warm glow. She drops her head to try to hide it, but I can still see it. I can feel it, like fire.
“Thanks, Gray.”
“You’re welcome, Rina.”
The door the lobby flies open. I snap to attention as Captain Fuller is blows through it, a scowl on his face. He looks from me to Karina, to the empty chair behind the desk, the books on the counter. The vacant spot at my right side.
“Where’s the girl?” he demands.
Karina backs away slowly, passing the Captain on her way toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later,” she calls quietly, her eyes sympathetic.
I nod in agreement, watching her go.
“You done mooning?” Captain Fuller asks when she’s gone.
I clear my throat, straightening my shoulders. “Yes, sir.”
“Where’s the girl?”
“She’s with the doctor. In the bath. I’m guarding the hall.”
“How long until she’s out?”
“It’s been a while. She might be out now.”
He snorts, stepping around me into the hallway. “Never underestimate a woman’s ability to take forever in the bath, son.”
I follow a half step behind him. The door to the tub room is open, the space empty. The floor is darkened by dampness, footsteps clearly coming out the door into the corridor, leading farther down to another door. I hear voices coming from the open hospital room Liv and I have been staying in for the past few days. Captain Fuller follows the breadcrumbs straight to it.
He raps his knuckles on the frame, his eyes downcast. “Are you decent?”
“Yes,” Liv answers slowly, surprise and confusion in her features. “I’d close the door if I wasn’t.”
“I don’t know how strictly you people follow social etiquette.”
“About doors?”
He surveys the room as he slowly strolls inside. “You’re freer with your bodies than we are here, is all I’m saying.”
“Freer with my body?”
Liv’s words are moving slower than before, like they’re mucking through molasses. Clomping through manure.
“You’ll notice real quick that your people
have a much different take on the right and wrong way for a young lady to conduct herself,” Captain Fuller continues. He nods to the other side of the room. The side with my cot against the wall. “Situations like this aren’t going to be appreciated here.”
Dr. Kanden grunts angrily. “Captain, you forced this situation. One that I know for a fact you’re misreading.”
He holds up his hand, warding her off. “I don’t need to know. All I care about is that it stops when they leave here.”
Liv’s eyes dart to mine anxiously before returning to Captain Fuller. “Where are we going?”
“Your home for the year. We’ve cleared an apartment for you. You can get your things together right now and head over there.”
“I don’t exactly have many things.”
“All the easier then.”
“Her mom had a necklace,” I tell him, feeling my blood rush through my veins nervously. “She’d like to have it. To remember her by.”
Captain Fuller frowns at me. “The necklace is safe. It’s in the treasury.”
“It’s a family heirloom.”
“And I said it’s safe.”
“But you didn’t say whether or not she could have it.”
He folds his arms over his chest. “Do you have something you want to say, Grayson?”
I shake my head. “I’m only asking what’s going to happen to it. It means a lot to her.”
“It really does,” Liv pleads convincingly. Her eyes find mine, an unspoken understanding passing between us.
We were right to hide her diamonds. They would have been kept from her too.
“We’re keeping it in the treasury for the year,” The Captain tells her. “At the end of your stay here if you have no outstanding debts, the necklace will come back to you.”
“But I said I’d work to pay my way.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about. Like I said, it’s safe and you’re safer without it. We still don’t know how people are going to react to you. It’s only been a few days but there have been rumblings. Gossip going around about you. Mayor Gustafson and I have agreed it’s time to work you in with the crowd to let people meet you. You need to outshine your myth. Moving out of the hospital into an apartment is the first step.”
“Who will I live with?”