by Casey Hays
He pulls a long arrow from the quiver and slides it up against the bow until it wedges into place. He pulls back the string, holds it briefly, and releases. The arrow whizzes through the air and pins the circle in the very middle. He cocks his head toward me. I smile.
“I do believe you are boasting.”
“Come here.”
He takes my elbow and positions himself behind me, placing my hands in the proper places on the bow.
“Now, this is called nocking the arrow.” He slides the arrow into place, and covers both of my hands with his, holding the position. Together we pull back the string.
For a moment, I can think of nothing but the heat of his body up against my back. My scarred back. The back that he deems beautiful. I hold my breath, and we loose the arrow. It flies through the air, hitting the tree just to the left of the first arrow.
Ian steps away.
“Lesson number one,” he says, sliding another arrow into place. “And this is really the only lesson you need to learn. All you have to do is aim. The arrow will find the target on its own.”
He stretches the string and peers down the length of the arrow. And once again, his arrow flies true, pinning the tree and knocking the first arrow to the ground.
I close my eyes. For one brief moment, I remember the Village. Mia, Diana and Layla are with me at Rachel’s celebration. She’s just become a guard, and Layla asks me what I would want to be if I had a choice. The celebratory bonfire burns hot in the background amidst music and dancing, and I announce that if I could change my fate, I would be a hunter with a brave bow. And now here I stand—with the bravest hunter I’ve ever known.
“What are you thinking, Kate?”
I look at him. He nocks another arrow, and he waits for me to reply. I shake my head.
“I’m thinking you don’t need anymore target practice.”
Smiling, he comes to me and pulls my knife from my belt. “No, I don’t. Maybe we should work on teaching you how to use this.”
He holds it up between us. I stare at the curved blade, and I know he’s right. As it stands, the knife is useless in my hands. Idle. I swallow and look away.
“You know I don’t want this knife, Ian.”
“I know.” He focuses on me intently. “But you need it. It has everything to do with empowerment.” He flips the knife and extends the handle out toward me. “You need to take hold of your life now.”
With a sigh, I take the knife. Ian winks.
“Max can teach you. He knows a thing or two about knives.”
He makes his way to the tree, gathers the arrows, and returns them to the quiver while I clutch the knife. Every time I do so, I feel the power to which Ian refers. It calls to me, wants me to posses it. To embrace the skill that accompanies such a weapon, or tool, or cruel device. In Mona’s hands, this knife knew many uses.
I sheath it quickly.
“Okay, we really do need to hunt at some point on this little adventure,” Ian says with a grin. “All that rain prevented us from drying any meat. And I’m getting hungry.”
“What will we find here?” I ask, falling in step beside him.
“Squirrel mostly. But maybe a rabbit. A deer would be nice.”
“I wish we had some porridge. Even some potatoes to put in a stew would be nice. Or a loaf of bread.” I glance at him. “Don’t you miss bread?”
He smiles, sliding his hand into mine. “I miss bread. And donuts.”
Donuts?
We walk. The shadows have moved in, and it is harder to see. Ian takes his flashlight from his belt and flicks it on.
“Where is Justin?” I ask.
“Probably back at the tent by now. He was looking for whittling wood. A certain shape or something. You know Justin and his constant carving.”
I smile. Yes, I do.
“He was not happy with you for letting me go to the river with Liza the other day.”
“Really?”There is humor in the question.
“Yes. He said we shouldn’t have gone alone. It’s too dangerous.”
Ian takes a few more steps, flashing the beam ahead of us, before answering.
“He’s right. Which is why I followed you.”
I stab him with my eyes. “What? Did you . . . you saw . . . ?”
He smiles. “No. Of course not. I stayed far enough away to give you privacy. But if you had come into any trouble, I was close enough to hear. And I would have been there.” He looks at me. “I’ll always be there.”
In the surrounding silence broken only by the sound of night creatures—and the sudden and very loud beating of my heart—we hear the sharp snap of a branch behind us. But before the twig has time to finish breaking in two, Ian spins. He nocks an arrow, quickly. I bend to pick up the flashlight that crashed to the ground with his action. And just as it was with the Set-Typhon’s knife, we see nothing.
“Perhaps it’s only an animal?” I whisper. Ian is a statue, his face dangerously close to the bowstring. Trembling, I try to hold the beam steady.
His arm, taut with twisted muscle, flexes slightly, catching my attention. I blink.
Ian tenses as another twig snaps. He pulls back the string, and his form—poised, the arrow ready—pierces me with a familiar pang. I stare at him, and everything in my world begins to swirl inside my brain.
All my life, the Council pounded one single edict into my head: Fate is written in the stars. There is no escape. There is no changing it.
The Archer has spoken.
Ian is beside me, but it is the Archer that I see.
My Archer.
A deer steps out of the trees, freezes as the light touches it. A snap reverberates off the bow, and the arrow leaves the string and finds its home in the throat of the animal. It staggers a few small steps and falls with a thud.
I heave a loud sigh—too loud—and Ian glances at me over his shoulder.
“You okay?”
It’s the simplest of questions, and I know the answer. For the first time in my life, I truly see him, and I am not afraid. I smile.
“I’m perfect.” I say.
Because in this moment, I am.
But I pray to you, O Lord,
in the time of your favor,
in your great love, O God,
answer me with your sure salvation.
Rescue me from the mire,
do not let me sink;
deliver me from those who hate me,
from the deep waters.
Do not let the floodwaters engulf me
or the depths swallow me up
or the pit close its mouth over
me.
Answer me, O Lord, out of the goodness
of your love;
in your great mercy turn to me.
Do not hide your face from your servant;
answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.
Come near and rescue me . . .
Psalm 69: 13-18
Ian †
Chapter 33
The moon is full tonight. It hangs low over the plains igniting it in a silver sheen that gives us plenty of light for the run. The wind is cool but not cold; the grass is tall, but not thick. A canopy of real stars explodes with life overhead. And Kate is in my arms.
It is a good night.
Justin runs beside me with Diana, so I keep my pace even with his. Working on my self-restraint. Jones would be proud.
Liza, Luke, Jeb, and the rest . . . we run together—gear on our backs, weapons at our sides—and this feels good, too. We have common abilities—a common goal—which connects us as a people. It connects us to Eden. And even with our limited numbers, it makes us brave.
The plains spread before us, wide open and vulnerable, and in all of us there is an urgency to get across fast. Out here, we’re moving targets. We’d be no match for a plane shooting Eden-killer bullets.
I have no clue what the other side of the river holds for us, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I’m shaking in my
pants over what might be happening to Mom and Dad—and especially Ava. She has been on my mind the most. Ava . . . with her premature powers. If the wall is breached—if they find the hidden hatches and the Serum is what they’re after—she, and anyone else like her, could be in the most danger of all.
Kate clings to me. Even with my smooth gait, she clutches fistfuls of my jacket in each one of her hands. Her eyes are shut tight, and she leans into me until her cheek presses against my shoulder. And I love every bit of how she feels.
I kiss the top of her head, and she looks up with her big, almond-shaped eyes and smiles at me as if to assure me that she’s fine. Just fine. But her rigid muscles betray her.
“Do you see your Archer tonight?” I ask her for a distraction, tossing my head toward the skies. “The stars are amazing out here.”
She casts her eyes upward for just a second before answering.
“Yes. He’s right here.” And she loosens her grip long enough to lay her hand flat against my chest. I pull back in surprise.
“So that’s it? No more swaying back and forth? You really don’t believe in Fate anymore?”
She smiles. “Oh no, I do. I believe in the fate we’ve created.”
Her eyes twinkle, and more than anything I want to kiss her. But to do so could result in massive injury, and unlike Justin, I haven’t quite mastered the tuck and roll. So I tighten my grip instead, just to feel her soft curves in the crook of my arms. And this ignites every desire I have for her.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve gone to those intimate places in my head. I don’t think I’d be very normal if I hadn’t. I’ve somehow managed to snag the most beautiful girl in the world from a land far, far away. What are the odds? So yeah, I’ve imagined what it will be like to hold her when nothing but our flesh separates us. And one day, when the time is right, I won’t have to imagine anymore.
At daybreak, the roar of the river reaches our ears. Jeb decided we would travel far north of the bridge and work our way down the bank as a precaution. If the army surrounding Eden has any idea that the team crossed over, the bridge is the first place they’ll look.
Since Jeb’s arrival, a sense of relief has settled over me. He’s led more than his share of expeditions, and leading—making the hard decisions—these things come natural to him. I gladly bend to his authority. Now, I can concentrate on one thing: keeping Kate safe.
I’ve been to Jordan only once. I’ve never met Penelope. But Justin has nothing but good things to say about her, so I trust in this.
We walk to a copse of trees where a small forest reaches the river. There’s cover here, and I shrug out of my pack. It’s hot, and Kate wipes a hand across her forehead, pushing a strand of sweaty hair out of her face. Even this is beautiful on her. I hand her a bottle of water.
“Jeb is planning to send his scouts ahead of us,” I tell her. She nods and takes a long drink. “We can rest here for a while.”
Justin unrolls his sleeping bag and spreads it for Diana. He opens his pack, pulls a bag of jerky free and tosses it to me. I catch it in one hand and offer some to Kate. She takes it, chews without speaking. I slide my bow up and over my head and lean it against a tree. I pull a blanket from my pack and spread it nearby.
“Do you want to sleep? It could be few hours before we make our way to the bridge.”
She shakes her head and sits. “I slept.”
I frown. “Kate, you hate running. You didn’t sleep.”
“I’m not tired, Ian.” She tugs on her braid, pinning me with an exasperated glance.
“Okay,” I concede holding up my hands in surrender. But she looks exhausted.
I glance toward the direction of the river. Some of Jeb’s team stand at the edge of the overhanging cliff, daring each other to make the jump. This peaks my interest, so I leave Kate chewing on her jerky and make my way over. Justin follows, and we stare out across the wide expanse. We can barely see the other side in the distance. The rushing river is at least a hundred feet below.
A frenzied excitement rumbles just under my skin. I examine the wall of the cliff. It’s craggy with lots of places for handholds. Climbing back up would be a walk in the park.
“Do it, Mike,” one of the hunters says to his companion. “Come on! I won’t sleep for a whole week if you do. That’s the bargain.”
“I don’t know, man. I don’t feel like getting injured today.”
“You big coward!”
“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you do it?”
“No way! I’m not crazy.”
“Well, there you go.”
I face Justin with a raise of my brow. He hesitates, but I see the sparkle in his eye. He wants to do this as much as I do. To feel the freedom of just falling without a care in the world. He leans out, peers over the edge. And after a minute, he nods.
“I’m game,” he says, and he peels off his shirt.
“Way to be spontaneous for once,” I say with a grin.
I shrug out of my jacket, kick off my shoes, the excitement rising to explosive levels. It feels good to do something reckless. Or rather, recklessly safe—which is the only reason Justin is willing.
Mike and his friends notice us.
“Will you look at the puppies?” one of them says. “They think they’re going to jump.”
I toss a bold glance their way. “That’s where you’re wrong, boys. We are gonna jump.”
And with one last look at each other, we fly off the edge of the cliff and soar downward through the warm air.
“Woooooo!”
Freedom! Now this must be how an eagle feels!
The sudden shock of the freezing water sends a panicked warning racing through me for a split second. The river swallows me, and I’m tugged under by the current. It drags me a good ways until I manage to surface. I grab hold of a boulder, pull my body up against it. I shake my hair out of my face.
The first thing I see is Justin, bobbing a few yards away. He grins, waving an arm high above his head, and I laugh, throwing my head back to feel the sun on my face. I open my eyes, and there’s Kate along with the hunters—tiny shadows along the edge. I wave, and she throws her hands into the air and disappears.
Uh-oh. I guess she’s not impressed.
A sharp pain in my shoulder throbs suddenly, and I run my fingers over it. A shard of rock pokes out of my flesh. I grab hold of it, yank hard until it releases its hold, and a stream of blood gushes down my side. The pain makes me dizzy for a minute, but I can already feel the wound tingling with healing.
I dive into the water—which is surprisingly deep in this area—and I swim for the rock wall. Justin is half-way up the incline. I grab hold of a protruding clump of rock and dirt, and hoist myself up.
The climb, as expected, is easy. Too easy. No challenge, and I’m standing at the top in a matter of five minutes.
“Now that was impressive.” Mike makes his way over. I scoop up my shirt where I left it crumpled on the ground and slide it over my head.
“Thanks.” I hone in on him with a wink. “Your turn.”
He scratches his head. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll leave the daredevil stuff to you younger boys.”
“You can’t get hurt,” I remind him, but he shakes his head.
“It hurts, no matter. I’m not too fond of pain.”
Kate leans against the tree beside my bow, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.
“I wish you would stop looking for ways to kill yourself,” she says when I reach her.
“I know you do,” I say, picking up the blanket and using a corner of it to dry my hair. “But that was a safe enough stunt.”
She raises a frustrated brow. “That appeared safe to you? To plunge yourself over the edge of a hundred foot cliff?”
“Approximately one hundred feet,” I correct. She’s not amused. I step in front of her, place a hand against the tree on either side of her, boxing her in. She looks straight at me, frowning, and I almost can’t finish my thought as I drown
in a chocolate swirl. “You don’t need to worry about a dive off the edge of a cliff. My body can endure a lot. You know that.”
“He’s right, Kate,” Justin offers as he approaches, dripping wet. He shakes out his hair, sprinkling us. “You know me. I wouldn’t have done it if it was dangerous.”
“But it is dangerous,” she argues. “Everything about all of you seems to be surrounded by dangers.”
Justin frowns under Kate’s scrutiny, and she furrows her brow, her eyes sweeping over him to connect with me again. I wonder if she’s thinking of what John told her. But after a moment, her expression softens, and I can see in her eyes that she’s considering our words. I chance leaning in for a kiss, and she complies. Her lips are so soft, so sweet—like honey in my mouth. And I swim in this for a moment. Everything about this girl makes me dizzy.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I whisper. “I want to show you something.”
I slide my bow into place over my chest, and we walk upriver through the trees, her small hand tucked into mine. Her pulse beats evenly, and I know she’s not angry. Not really. I think I’ve proven that it won’t be easy for me to die, and she can’t argue as much as she would like to. Because she can’t deny any more than I can what she sees me do again and again.
“I’m sorry,” I admit after a minute. “Again.”
She peers up at me. “Do you know how many times you’ve said this to me?”
I sigh, squeezing her hand gently. “Too many, I know. I guess this kind of shows where we’re going.”
She squints. “What do you mean?”
“Our life is going to be built on my apologies.”
I shrug, pinning her with my most apologetic look, and I see the small hint of a smile trace her lips before she straightens, taking control of her emotions.
“Look,” I tug her to a stop. “It’s hard for me to resist a challenge. I like them. They kind of drive me, even when I’m terrified. In fact, my fear makes me that much more determined. I mean, think about it. What do you think drove me back for you?”
She doesn’t say anything. I wet my lips.
“In Eden, after the Shift, they train us for challenges. To be prepared for danger. To have self-control.” I pause. “I’m still working on that one, but at least they try. Jones hasn’t given up on me yet. The point is I know what I can handle.”