"Where are you staying?"
"On the Outskirts."
"With the Foragers?"
"Yes, but they like to be called hybrids." Or perhaps we like to be called hybrids.
"Naomi, what are you going to do?"
That was a good question. "I guess I'll have to live there. Adjust. There's nothing past there but barren land. I don't have many options."
"Yeah."
"Why do you think Dunningham's not making a bigger deal about this? He knows where I am."
Keira laid back on her bed. "I don't know, Nay. I really don't."
"Is Chase back from his assignment?"
"Yeah, I saw him today."
"What did he say?" I asked
"He's worried about you like the rest of us."
I contemplated whether or not I should tell Keira about what Dunstan and my mother had told me. "I bled today."
"What?"
"Dunstan, he cut me with a knife and I bled."
Keira sat up. "Grim's don't bleed."
"I know."
"So what does that mean?"
I wasn't sure. I was lost and confused. The room began to spin ever so slightly. "Dunstan said I'm not a full Grim. When I went home tonight, Mother said it was true. That my real father's a human."
I expected Keira to be shocked and act like it was the most ludicrous thing she'd ever heard, but she didn't. "That would explain some things."
"What? What things?"
"Why you get so attached. Why you connect with them. Why you feel sympathy for them when they die."
"I'm not one of them, Keira," I said forcefully.
"Why would your mother lie about something like that?"
"I don't know, but she is."
"Naomi—"
I stood. "I have to get back. They're waiting for me. Maybe I'll come back tomorrow." I stood and put on the cloak.
"Okay," Keira said. She followed me to her back porch. I turned to her. I was going to miss her. I wouldn't have a best friend in the Outskirts.
She embraced me once more. "Nay, take care of yourself. No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend."
"Same here," I whispered as we separated. "Bye."
I had taken a few steps when I heard the backdoor close. I took my time walking back to Nigel and Colden. They were asleep in Odessa's shack, where we would stay the night. I curled up on the tiny spot they had left for me. It was tight and uncomfortable, but that wasn't the reason I couldn't fall asleep. I would have stayed awake in the world's most luxurious bed. I had been fed a lot of information today. There was a lot on my mind.
* * *
The following morning, after a meager breakfast of oatmeal, Nigel, Colden, and I traveled back to the Outskirts. There I gave Dunstan back his precious cloak and he informed me that I would be staying with him.
I sat at the kitchen table in front of Dunstan as Jax served us tea. Nigel and Colden stood around being nosey. When they'd asked what had happened in Farrington, I'd told them nothing.
"So?" Dunstan asked, stirring his tea. I wished for a cup of coffee right then. My sleepless night was taking a toll on me.
"I went home to see my family. They're fine. They said your brother's not even mad at them. He's treating them normally."
Dunstan sat back and fingered his cup. "He's planning something. There's a reason he hasn't executed them or at least sent them to Gattica. Did anyone besides your family see you?"
"No," I lied.
"Good. You'll go back tonight."
"Why?" Of course I wanted to see my family and Keira again, but I dreaded that long walk and the climb over that wall. "Why do you want me to go back?"
Colden shifted from where he leaned against the wall and muttered something to his brother. I looked back at him. "You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know that something's going on and you're planning on using me?"
"We are doing no such thing," Dunstan said calmly. "I thought it would be nice for you to go home, but if you don't want to—"
"No! No, I want to—"
"Then what are you complaining about?" Colden demanded.
"Gentlemen, aren't you on duty in the yard today?" Dunstan asked.
They both nodded and walked briskly out the door.
"Why did you do what you did?" I asked Dunstan once Colden and Nigel were gone. "I mean, have a child with a human when you knew what the punishment would be."
He took another sip of his tea. "Sometimes we don't think with our heads, with think with our feelings. I wanted to be with Gwendolyn and at the time, I wasn't thinking about anything else. It just felt right."
I understood. I felt that way about my decision at Kennedy High. "I felt like I did the right thing then, but I don't feel that way anymore."
Dunstan nodded. "I know that feeling. Back then, nothing could have kept me away from Gwendolyn. But she's been dead for a long time now. I left my son in the human world for fear of what my brother would do to him. He's dead too. I sometimes find myself second guessing my decision now that there's nothing to show for it, but what's done is done."
I was thoroughly depressed. "Mr. Dunstan, I didn't sleep well last night. Do you mind if I take a nap?" I asked, too tired to argue with him anymore.
"Of course not. Make yourself comfortable in my room for the time being. We'll make you a place to sleep in the study."
I nodded gratefully and headed back to the bedroom, taking my cup of tea with me.
After setting the cup on the nightstand beside me, I snuggled under Dunstan's covers. My body was tired, but I was more mentally exhausted. As I nestled into a comfortable position, I thought about my father. It hurt my heart to even think that he wasn't really mine. My heart told me that Dunstan and Mother were lying for some reason, but logic told me there was no reason for my mother to lie about something that made her look bad and there had to be a reason I had bled.
* * *
When I awoke, I could tell from the little light that shone through the curtains that the sun was beginning to set. I had slept most of the day away. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My stomach growled. Since I had been on the run it seemed like I never had enough to eat.
I went to the bedroom door. I heard the voices of men talking. Maybe if I eavesdropped, I would get some inkling of what was going on.
I cracked the door open and slipped out. I took a few steps and then stood in the hallway quietly.
"We're going to start with the first group and see how that goes," Dunstan was saying. "I know this is experimental and we're already expecting a lot of deaths, but we all knew this revolt would come with a price."
Revolt? Against what?
"When is this taking place?" a familiar voice asked. I tried to place the voice, but gave up. No one I knew would be in the Outskirts, sitting in Dunstan's house.
"In a few days. I'm tired of watching my people die. We were counting on those lifestones from the high school, but of course you know—"
"Yes, yes, I know.” I placed the voice. It was the man who had prepared us for human interaction. The one who had overseen us on our assignment. That voice without a doubt belonged to Doyle. "I was counting on those lifestones, also. As I said before, I'll make it up to you."
I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. Doyle was Dunningham's right-hand man. What was he doing here fraternizing with Dunn's outcast brother?
Then I remembered something that had never sat right with me. When we'd first spotted the Foragers at Kennedy High, we told Doyle about it. He'd said he'd take care of it, but he never did. The Foragers hadn't gone away. When I asked him about it, he blew me off. He wanted them there.
I heard someone cough, probably Doyle. "I have to get back," he said, sounding strained. "We'll connect again tomorrow."
I darted back to the bedroom door as quietly as possible. But I still kept it open a crack. "What about the girl?" Doyle asked. Did he know I was there?
"Don't worry. She's doing just what she's supposed
to. You can't let my brother get his hands on her. She's exactly what we need."
Chapter 31
I heard the front door close, followed by the door to Dunstan's study. I crept out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and out the front door. I hadn't seen Jax, but I figured if he'd seen me leave, he'd tell Dunstan. I walked from the cottage as briskly as possible.
I stood in the middle of the Forager's village. The streets were almost empty now. Perhaps everyone was inside preparing their meals. I decided to explore. I passed a man sitting on his porch, smoking a pipe. He grunted and shot me a dirty look. I looked away. All the people here must hate me.
After walking through a large cluster of cottages, drawing strange looks and hushed whispers from the Foragers, I came to a large fenced-in plot of land. There were about twenty men inside with shovels digging ditches in the tan soil. The large area was cut in half by another chain-linked fence. On the other side, there were countless mounds for as far as I could see. I entered the gate. Against the gate in the center, a man sat on a tall chair, overlooking the field through a pair of binoculars. He looked like one of those lifeguards I'd seen on human beaches. We knew about lifeguards. They interfered with death so they were frowned upon in our society, much like police officers, fire fighters, and doctors.
If anyone noticed me, they didn't show it. They kept right on digging with a monotonous rhythm. My shoulders hurt just watching them.
I saw Nigel digging at the far side of the plot. Colden was at the edge not far from me, digging with an intense anger. I passed two men, who ignored me, to get to him. I stood not far from him as he continued to dig. Stray dirt fell on me, but I ignored it.
"Colden, what are you guys doing?"
"I'm working," he answered curtly.
"I see, but what are these holes for?"
Colden stopped digging and looked at me sharply, then he laughed. "Of course. Why would you know what they were for?" He dropped his shovel. "Come with me."
I followed him to the gate. "Zayne, I'm taking a break," Colden called to the man sitting in the chair.
"You already had a break," the man said, not even looking in our direction.
"Thanks," Colden said as we continued out of the gate. He reminded me of Bram.
"Where are we going?"
"Just be quiet and walk."
I wondered if there was a feeling worse than hate as I followed him silently. Maybe if I said nothing else to him, he'd stop being so rude and pissing me off. I didn’t know how much more of his attitude I could take.
He led me away from the empty field, and I realized there was more to the place than I'd thought. After walking for a few minutes, we came to a large stone building. It was like a modern-looking building in the human world. The closer we came to it, the more I noticed a weird odor coming from it.
There were two glass doors on the outside. Colden pulled them both open and I followed him in. Immediately, my arm went to cover my nose. Inside the building were rows and rows of cots filled with people. People who were wrinkled, gray, and bald. I gagged involuntarily.
Colden looked at me for a moment. "Yeah, you're not used to that. That's the smell of death. You've never seen this because this doesn't happen to your people. These poor people are rotting from the inside out."
He was right. I had never seen anything like it before. I'd seen old people die all the time in the human world. I'd collected countless lives from hospitals and nursing homes, but I'd never seen anything like this.
Three men and two women in white lab coats wandered around the room, touching people and adjusting things. A woman laid open-mouthed, gray eyes staring at nothing. I felt sorry for her and wished someone would put her out of her misery.
"Can we leave now?" I asked Colden as I turned for the door.
He grabbed my elbow. "No, you need to experience this. Have you ever watched one of your family members just wither away like this?" I shook my head. "Well, I have. My father, five years ago. He ran out of years. We tried desperately to raid the Mill. To get some lifestones to save the people who were almost expired, but the men we sent were captured. My father died, Naomi. He was a Grim and he died. That's not supposed to happen."
My heart went out to him, and I understood his coldness. Losing my parents to life-expiration was something I never worried about. As long as Dunningham sent them on assignments, they would live forever. Death in the human world never stopped. There would always be lifestones to collect. There was plenty for everyone. There was no reason for what I was witnessing. "So, those holes are for—"
"To bury our dead. Yes. Every day the younger men have to go out there and dig holes just to bury our families. It's a job that's never complete. There's always someone to put in the ground."
A man moaned from somewhere. One of the white coats walked in his direction. I backed away and leaned against the wall. "I get it."
Colden turned to me. "You get what?"
"Why you hate me. Why you hate us." Colden turned back around. "Colden, I know this doesn't mean much to you, but from birth we're raised to believe that you guys are the enemy, that you steal lifestones to hurt us. We never get to see this. I mean, we know that you guys die, but until you actually see it—"
"We really needed the lifestones from the high school, Naomi. They would have saved all these people."
I looked down at the ground and remembered the girl in the bathroom—the one who was dead now. I thought back to her telling me how they needed those lives to survive and we only needed them for money, when we already had more than enough. "I'm sorry," I muttered.
"Tell that to them," Colden said, but his tone was softer this time.
I thought about Roxy and Hunter, then I thought about my now upside-down life and these Grims on the verge of expiration. Was it worth it? "If I could go back and do it differently, I would."
Colden stepped closer to me, looking me dead in the eye. His eyes seemed bluer than they had the other day. "If you're really sorry, there's a way you can fix this. There's still a way all these people can be saved."
"H-how?"
"Dunstan will tell you about that when he feels the time is right."
Thankfully, Colden walked out the door and I followed him. "Doyle was here earlier, talking to Dunstan. He's Dunningham's top assistant. What was he doing here?"
"I can't tell you."
I was tired of the secrets. "He's a liar."
"Hey!" Colden yelled. "Whenever he can, that man slips us a few lifestones here and there. If it weren't for him, we would be in a lot worse shape."
"Doyle steals our lifestones and gives them to you? Why would he do that? What's in it for him?"
Colden shook his head. "I shouldn't have even told you that. Don't repeat it. I have to get back to work."
Colden went back to the graveyard and I stood there, letting all this new information sink in. Doyle was up to something. He wasn't the type who would risk his life for Foragers out of the goodness of his heart. Soon it would be time for me to go to Farrington again. I intended to come back with some answers this time.
* * *
Nigel, Colden, and I waited until it was dark to climb the wall into Litropolis. The walk from there was a lonely one. I was relieved to see the place I called home.
I knocked on the back door. This time there was no wait. I was expected. Although it was late, and the family had already eaten, Mother had a spread prepared for me. All my favorites—candied yams, broccoli with cheese, pepper steak, mashed potatoes, and apple pie.
I gorged myself as my brothers sat in their pajamas, staring at me, and Mother asked me countless questions.
I answered her as succinctly as possible. I didn't want her to be worried about me, but I would tell Bram what I had learned earlier.
"Is it true about Naomi?" Dorian asked Mother.
Mother fiddled with her fingers. "Is what true?"
"You know, that Father's not her real father."
Mother looked at Bram, who s
hrugged. I wondered if my brothers thought any less of me because of this lie Mother was telling. I wished Father was there to set the record straight.
"No, it's not," I answered firmly.
Bram raised one eyebrow. "That's not what you said last night, Mother."
"We are not having this discussion," Mother replied.
Bram hit the table with his fist, and Mother jumped. "Like hell we're not. This is our family, too. You don't think we have the right to know? Answer Dorian's question. Have we been living with a Forager or not?"
I threw my fork down, causing candied yams to splatter across the table. "I'm not a Forager and don't you ever call me that again!"
Mother banged on the table. "Calm down, both of you!" She looked at my brothers. "You're correct. You have a right to know. A long, long time ago I made a stupid mistake, but that doesn't make Naomi any less your sister. It's not always about blood."
Bram stood, shaking the table like always. "That's where you're wrong, Mother. It is about blood." Then he looked at me. "I'm sorry, Naomi. I love you, but you don't belong here."
He left the room and a lump formed in my throat. Bram had said plenty of mean things to me, but that was by far the cruelest.
Mother's eyes welled with tears. She patted my hand. "Darkness, I'm so sorry. Really I am." She left the table, leaving me to stare at my half-eaten plate.
"Don't worry, Nay," Dorian said. "You'll always be my sister, no matter what."
* * *
I gave Bram a half hour to settle down, then I went up to his room. I knocked, but there was no answer. I turned the knob and the door opened. Bram lay on his bed, bouncing a ball off of his wall, catching it, and then bouncing it again. Bram only did that when he was upset.
He didn't acknowledge me as I sat on his bed. "Bram, listen. I know you’re mad, or you hate me, or whatever, but I need to tell you something." The ball continued to bounce off the wall, but I kept talking anyway. "They're planning something. The Grims in Litropolis and the Outskirts. They're planning a revolt."
The ball stopped. "Is that what they say?" Bram asked. "Well, good luck to you guys."
Naomi Grim (Part 3) (The Silver Scythe Chronicles) Page 6