Jackal

by Tarryn Fisher

  I feel sick. When the food arrives a minute later, I push it aside. “What happened then?”

  He looks up at me from his meal, a blob of sauce on the corner of his mouth.

  “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

  I don’t like his smug tone. “Well, you started the story, so goddamn finish it.”

  “Nothing really to say. Over the years, minor things were reported: a broken arm, bruises. But overall, he was an accomplished kid. Spoke three languages by the time he was sixteen, got a master’s degree. And apparently, he can dance ballet.”

  “That’s sick,” I say. “That no one did anything about it.”

  “He protected her. Nothing anyone could do.”

  “He was a child. Someone should have intervened, gotten him out of there.” The tables around us look up when I raise my voice. I glance at them apologetically.

  Sean doesn’t seem to notice. He shrugs.

  I look at him in disgust. Why is he even telling me this?

  “Where is his mother now?”

  “She’s in the Red. Stepped down as the head of the agricultural trade department not too long ago. The guy is messed up, Phoenix. I thought you should know.”

  “You thought I should know? Why is that?”

  He sets down his fork, looks at me seriously. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him. That’s all.”

  I feel a spark of rage. I don’t know if it’s for Jackal, or myself, or toward Sean who just spilled very private details about the guy’s life with the intent to...what? Embarrass him? Scare me away?

  “Whatever atrocities Jackal suffered as a child have no impact on his work as an End Man. I think it’s in poor taste to snoop around his life like that.”

  I want to get up and leave. But I can’t just storm out on a date with the governor. To my relief, Sean looks mildly apologetic.

  “Truce,” he says, raising his palms in the air. “You have a soft spot for him. That’s what I love about you, Phoenix. Always defending the underdog. Now eat before your food gets cold.”

  I pick up my fork. I ordered a salad. Fuck him for patronizing me.

  After lunch, we stop by Sean’s office so he can pick up some paperwork. I wait in reception, scrolling through the news on my Silverbook. I see the headline at the same time that I hear pounding down the hall...footsteps, people running. I peek my head out of the door and see a group congregated near the west side window.

  “What is it?” I ask. I stand on my tiptoes to see out, but they’re dancing around, all competing for the front spots.

  “Someone is going to jump,” I hear. “Look up there—near the middle.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “It’s Jackal Emerson! Oh my God!”

  I shove my way to the front, my eyes refusing to blink. The bridge is at least a half mile away. I narrow my eyes at the figure who’s clearly climbed one of the barriers and is standing calmly on the ramparts, looking down at the water. Male. It’s definitely a male up there. My heart sinks. It can’t be. He wouldn’t.

  “He’s going to jump!” someone says again. “Why aren’t they doing something?”

  I feel a hand on my back and turn. Sean is watching over my shoulder, his deep-set eyes filled with concern. It won’t look good for him, an End Man plummeting to death in his Region.

  “My driver is pulling up,” he says. “I’m sorry to cut our time short, but I need to get over there.”

  “Take me with you?” I ask, clutching his sleeve.

  We move away from the window, jogging to get out of the building. We’re in the elevator, and I want to scream at how long it takes to reach the ground floor. As soon as the doors open, we rush out toward Sean’s car, where the door is open and waiting for us. I slide across the seat and he gets in next to me. The car moves before the door even closes.

  The sidewalks are clogged, bodies everywhere. People are filtering outside of office spaces and shops, crowding together to watch. Cars honk at each other as they pull to the side of the road. Every local station is covering it on the Silverbook. The image hangs in front of me, and I swipe left until I see one with a clearer picture of Jackal. It’s still not as close as I’d like, but it’s enough to be certain that it’s him. My heart is in my throat and I can’t catch a good breath. What is he thinking? I go through all the things we talked about at the house and consider that he isn’t as content as he seems. I’m even more unsettled after the things Sean said about his childhood and his mother. But suicide? How could I have missed the signs?

  Sean looks at me as the car parks and his eyes widen. He reaches up and wipes the tears from my cheeks.

  “I’ll send someone up to talk to him. Don’t worry.” His hand lingers on my cheek. “You’re such a compassionate person,” he says softly. “Stay near the car and I’ll find you after this is resolved.”

  He rushes off and I ignore his instruction, shoving past people so I can be as close under Jackal as the crowd permits. Someone is climbing up the side to talk to him and I’m tempted to start climbing up there myself. I get jostled by the crowd and push through. It’s so high up, I feel a wave of nausea when I look up. I get to the first tier and step on the stone, steadying myself before I decide which way to go. Before I can make a choice, two hands grip my arms and I’m pulled back. I see a flash of color out of the corner of my eye and he’s jumped.

  I clutch my fist to my mouth, crying out, and then he bounces up. From what I can tell, there is no wire connecting him. But he bounces up and down, back and forth. The alarm in the crowd changes abruptly to cries of surprise. People stop wailing and suddenly there is applause and sounds of amusement.

  Relief prickles my scalp. I want to sit down, bend over at the waist, and catch my breath. He managed a distraction all right. A big one. And no one will be angry with him because he’s Jackal Emerson, the beloved bad boy of the End Men. Stunts like this are what make people favor him. It doesn’t really matter that he survived that jump because I’m going to kill him.

  I move away from the chaos and wait until he’s safely on the ground. He’s surrounded by cameras and giving interview after interview, snapping selfies with all the bystanders. It’ll keep the Blue Region buzzing for at least the rest of the day. I watch the way he moves with ease, the way he seems so self-assured. His body is long and lean, and his hair is damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead. Perfect really. Want chokes me, fills me up and snuffs out the poisonous words that are burning to come out of my mouth. More than anything I want to touch him, make sure he’s okay, possibly kick him in the shins. I shake my head; my feelings are confusing. I’ve always kept my feelings simple, arranged my life to be free of emotional clutter. Jackal is the definition of drama and unpredictability. I hate that he makes me feel. Suddenly, as if he can sense I’m there, his head swivels in my direction. We lock eyes for a minute and then I turn on my heels and run.

  I won’t be remembered for my performance that evening. I dance with my thoughts at the border, wondering if they made the drive without any trouble, if they’re at the border yet, if Jewel was right and they had enough backup there to get safely across. I’d wanted to take them myself, but Gwen convinced me I needed to proceed as normal, the same as Jackal. I paid heed to her wishes up until the after-party and then I cut out of there, feigning a sore throat. There are roses from Sean in my dressing room as I get ready to leave, but I don’t wait around to thank him.

  The drive feels longer than ever, and as I pull into the driveway, I realize that I’m going to miss each one of the girls...especially Gwen. In the short amount of time we were around each other, I connected with her. We instantly clicked. Being in such a competitive field, I’m not used to opening up to other women. I didn’t think I was capable of having that, at this point, but she’s proven me wrong.

  I go in through the back door and turn the light on in the kitchen. I flip off my shoes and move to the family room to grab a book. It’s going to be a long night. I asked Jewel to l
et me know once they were safe, but it’s probably still too early. A shadow crosses behind me in the moonlight and I yelp.

  “It’s me. I should’ve said something sooner, but I had to be sure it was you!”

  Gwen sits down in the overstuffed chair across from the bookcase, and I fall onto the couch behind me.

  “I’ve been scared out of my wits twice today. My heart can’t take it,” I tell her. The book slides off my lap and lands with a thud on the floor. We both jump. “What happened? Is everyone else here?”

  “They left and should be close by now. I’m waiting for word,” she says softly.

  I sit up straight and turn on the light. Gwen looks exhausted yet antsy. Her hair is wet and her face is free from makeup; she looks so young. I never think of us as the same age because she’s out there changing the world.

  “I can’t leave without my son.” Her voice falters and I reach across and take her hand.

  “No, you can’t,” I say. And then—“I’ll help you.”

  She presses her lips together so hard they turn white.

  “Gwen,” I say.

  When she looks up at me, there are two steady streams of tears on either side of her face. They drip off her chin and onto her shirt.

  “Let’s take him back…”

  When I say the words, a calmness floods through me, a certainty that everything has led me to this.

  FIFTEEN

  JACKAL

  Sea otters hold hands when they’re sleeping so they don’t drift apart.

  I take the car to the farmhouse myself, slipping out before Selfish can catch me. Yvonne was easy: cash for silence.

  By the time I pull the car into the barn, it’s raining. There is a fog crawling from the valley, whorls of white barreling through the trees. I jog to the house, getting soaked, and expecting to find Phoenix in the kitchen.

  “You’re dripping,” she says when she lets me in the back door. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I eye her legs as she tosses me a towel.

  “How’d it go?” I ask.

  “You came all the way out here to ask me that? You’ve been rather busy today with that stunt you pulled.” Her eyes bore into me with razor sharp edges.

  I swallow hard and my smile is tentative. “Trying to do my part?” Her eyes are unforgiving, but I trudge forward anyway. “I came over tonight because I thought you’d be alone. I‘m going to do things to you and you’re going to make a lot of noise.” My thumb sweeps across her cheek and rubs across her bottom lip. “I want you all to myself.”

  She moves until she’s standing in front of me.

  “I thought you were dead,” she whispers.

  “What?”

  “When I saw you on the bridge...” She shakes her head, unable to finish. “I watched you jump and—” Her voice catches. “Anyway...today sucked…”

  “You didn’t know what I was doing?” I ask, stunned.

  “How would I?” she snaps.

  I’m all over her before she can blink, my hands on her waist, in her hair, pulling it back until her face is lifted to mine, inches from my mouth…

  She touches her lips to mine, carefully, slowly, and my chest jolts.

  I grab the sides of her face, and her lips and tongue destroy all of my willpower. She leans up on her tiptoes and I reach beneath her cheeks to lift her the rest of the way, wrapping her legs around my waist.

  I kiss her hard and then lean back one more time. “And I wanted to make sure Gwen got across okay.”

  “She didn’t…” I freeze at the sound of Gwen’s voice.

  Phoenix drops her feet to the floor and scuttles away, cheeks flaming. Gwen walks into the kitchen, biting her lip in amusement at the sight in front of her, and I close my eyes at the anger I’m feeling.

  “Tell me I’m seeing things, Phoenix, that Gwen is not still here!”

  “Calm down, Jackal,” Gwen says dryly.

  “Why the hell didn’t you leave with them?” I yell.

  Gwen doesn’t flinch. She purses her lips and eyes me like I’m a child as she sits down at the table.

  “I’m going to get my son back.”

  “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

  Gwen looks at Phoenix, and I start shaking my head right away.

  “She steals jewelry, Gwen. No. You can’t expect her to—”

  “Expect me?” Phoenix interrupts. “I’ve offered my services. Gwen hasn’t asked me to do anything.”

  “The last male baby born to the Regions isn’t going to be easy to just...take.”

  “Who is the End Man in the Red right now?” Phoenix asks.

  Her face is serious. Dead serious. They are actually planning on going through with this.

  I blink at her. “Aries.”

  She makes a face, like it could be worse and looks at Gwen.

  “What do you know about him?” Gwen asks me.

  I scratch my head. “Aries…? He’s…”

  “What?” Phoenix says. “Spit it out.”

  “You,” I tell her. “Are getting on my nerves, despite the way you kiss.”

  “I can imagine it doesn’t feel as nice as when a woman gets on your dick,” she shoots back.

  I glare at her.

  “Fine...fine. Aries is batshit crazy,” I say. “Good luck with that.”

  “We should be wishing you good luck,” Phoenix says. “Because you’re the one who’s going to contact him for us.”

  “I’m not getting involved,” I say to both of them. “I have a pink jet and a good life.”

  “A pink jet!” Phoenix says, flabbergasted. “I thought you cared about Folsom!” She picks up the closest thing to her and throws it at my head. I duck out of the way and a can of corn hits the wall behind me.

  “You’re crazy.” I point between the two of them. “Dual crazies. Twin psychos.” I switch my attention to Gwen, clearly the more logical of the two.

  “You have the opportunity to get out of here. Canada will provide you asylum. Why, Gwen?”

  She slams her fist on the table so hard the vase of wildflowers wobbles precariously. Phoenix’s eyes grow large, and she looks between the two of us. Gwen’s tiny shoulders squared, she stands up to face me. I remember this from last time, in the hospital with Foley. She’d threatened my life and she barely reached my nipples.

  “My son,” she says from between her teeth, “is with that woman…” She points to what I suppose is the direction of the Red Region. Leaning over the table toward me, her eyes are glowing with hate. I pity Langley. If Gwen gets ahold of her…

  “I’m not leaving the Regions without Rebel. And that’s the end of it.”

  I look at Phoenix then. She shrugs.

  “All right.” I sit down at the table, head in my hands. “Say I can get in touch with Aries. Who’s to say he’ll help us?”

  “Isn’t there some type of brotherhood between you guys, some oath of loyalty? Folsom and Kasper don’t like each other, but Kasper pulled through.”

  “Kasper owed Folsom,” I say and then I wish I hadn’t. Gwen is looking at me curiously. “It’s not my story to tell.”

  “I’ll reach out to him myself,” Phoenix says with finality.

  “No.”

  Both women look at me in surprise. There’s no kindness in their eyes as they wait for me to speak. I’m either here to help them or I’m not. Goddamn, how did men ever manage to rule the world with these tiny generals in existence?

  “I’ll do it,” I say. “You two keep your heads low or Folsom and I will both have someone we care about in prison.” I storm out before either of them can say another word.

  This is exactly why men have nearly gone extinct: women.

  “Jackal!”

  I’m almost to the barn when Phoenix comes charging out of the house wearing black rubber work boots over her tights. It looks like she’s about to leap into my arms; I brace myself, but she comes to an abrupt stop instead. We’re standing in mud, the smell of manure and wet grass clingi
ng to the air. She’s beautiful; I have to catch my breath. Her eyes are bright, but there are dark smudges of makeup beneath them. She blinks at me slowly.

  “Don’t go,” she says.

  I see her throat move convulsively as she swallows. I reach out impulsively, my fingers caressing her throat. She closes her eyes at my touch, and I almost kiss her right then and there.

  “Stay awhile,” she says. “You just got here.”

  “You want me to stay?”

  “No!” she says quickly. “I mean...yes. You came all this way...”

  “Say you want me to stay.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. I just asked you to stay.”

  “But say you want me to stay.”

  She looks around exasperated, hands on her hips. The wind lifts up stray pieces of her hair, lifting them from her face. She fills her cheeks with air and lets it out slowly, eyes closed.

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Now say: I want you…”

  Her eyes fly open. “Jackal!”

  I hold up my hands, laughing. “Okay, okay! Just trying my luck.”

  Gwen raises her eyebrows when we walk back through the door.

  “What?” Phoenix snaps at her.

  “Nothing. Geez, lay off the aggression.”

  They glare at each other and I’m not sure if a girl fight is about to happen, but then they both start laughing. They make a small dinner of vegetables and bread, and we carry it to the living room near the fireplace. The rain has chilled the air, and Phoenix asks me to build a fire. I’m so honored she asked anything of me, I’m determined to build the most spectacular fire she’s ever seen in her life.

  They exchange stories about the Regions, what they’ve heard is going on.

  “Black pulled out of the trade treaty last week. After Laticus died, they called for the Red to be expelled, but the Statehead voted no,” Phoenix tells us.

  It has to be Sean feeding her this information. I wonder what else he knows.

  “The lower end of almost every Region is with the Revolution. They play your speeches on a loop,” she tells Gwen. “There are few supporters in the upper, but they fear for their quality of life if things were to change.”