by Trisha Leigh
I bury the sentiment. It’s not the time. Maybe it never will be. It was never meant to be only Lucas and me; Cadi and Ko have rested the fate of Earth on the four of us, not two.
Pax clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Why are you out here alone?”
“They found us last autumn—the Wardens. We escaped, but they know who we are now. My note said to run.” I don’t bother explaining about the note.
He most likely has one, too, and his nod confirms it. “Who’s ‘us’?”
“Winter—” His name gets caught in my throat for a few seconds. “His name is Lucas.”
Pax doesn’t answer, just cleans the grease from his hands using his pants and reaches for his pack. Wolf watches every movement but isn’t coiled tight anymore. When the boy—Autumn, I’m pretty sure—straightens up, he’s clutching a book in his hands. Unlike the hardback volumes the Others give us at school, this one is covered with paper. The picture on the front is of a boy with bare feet sitting in a giant tree overlooking a green lawn. The sky is blue, so clear it looks like it goes on forever. Pax turns it toward me, showing off the title. A Separate Peace, by a man named John Knowles.
He offers it up and I run my fingertips over the rough, wrinkled cover. The lower right-hand corner is ripped and the spine is so worn that the book falls open to the center when I set it in my lap. Operating on instinct, I flip to the front and find Pax’s note. It is identical to my and Lucas’s original notes, save his name.
Pax,
You feel different because you are Something Else, a Dissident. But you are not alone. There are more, and you will find each other when it is necessary. In the meantime, trust no one.
Ko
I close it and give Pax a wry smile. “That’s familiar.”
As a return gesture, I unhook my necklace and hand it over. He inspects it for a minute, and then gives it back. For the first time, I notice a bracelet tied around his wrist, made from a pretty braid of colored threads. They’re vibrant shades of blue, red, orange, and green woven together in a flowing pattern that looks like it formed spontaneously. It must be homemade, even though I’ve never seen anything like it—ever.
He catches me staring and pulls his sleeves down over his wrists. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now, but sitting here staring at the floor isn’t going to accomplish anything. “What happened to you last season?” I ask, on the off chance he’ll tell me.
“Well, let’s see. I learned that my real mother fell in love with a stinking Element—Air. I found out the Others use mind control to keep the rest of the humans from questioning their power. And I found out what they can—and will—do.” He doesn’t elaborate. A strange tightness squeezes his words, the opposite of the loose grace he’s exhibited up until now.
There’s no need to push it. Thinking back over my autumn, there are certainly events I’d rather not think about, or talk about, or remember at all. The memory of what the Others are capable of—the pain, the violence, the relentless pursuit—pops electric shocks of fear through me. If Pax knows enough to fear the Others, he’s experienced at least some of those same things. We don’t need to relive it.
“So, where were you headed when you stumbled in here this evening?”
“Nowhere special. Hiding. Staying away from the Wardens. I’m not surprised to see you, actually. After last season, the way Deshi and I were thrown together and Ko saying things had changed, I figured Summer might be around.”
The name Deshi rings in my ears, vibrates all the way into my toes. A cold fear swishes in its wake. “How do you know Deshi?”
The Prime’s son had pretended to be human, to be our classmate. Watched Lucas and I, then reported back to the Prime Other that we were the ones they wanted. He’d been in Danbury with us all autumn; he couldn’t have been in Portland with Pax.
Emotion twists Pax’s red, chapped lips into a grimace. “He was with me in Portland until the Others took us. They…I don’t know what they did to him.”
The implications of his words roll around my head like marbles, but eventually I gather a few into my palms. “You’re saying Deshi is one of us?”
He nods. “Spring.”
The information sounds wrong until I remember how the Chief had told Cadi she couldn’t protect us…or protect Deshi. I couldn’t figure out what he had meant then, but it’s starting to make sense.
Pax stares at me, his eyebrows knitted together. “You’re really pale, Summer. What’s wrong?”
“What does Deshi look like?” The fact that he broke his promise to not use a nickname barely registers as an annoyance. The need to confirm my suspicions hums like the generator in the Cell basement.
“He’s a Barbarus. Slanted eyes, really shiny black hair. I mean, not dark brown like mine—really black. He’s got our eyes, but they look wrong in his face. Short.” He jaw clenches when he pauses. “Nice guy.”
It makes sense after a few silent rounds of question and answer with myself, and confirms what Lucas and I suspected last fall—that the Others had somehow discovered that we smell different than regular people. It had just never occurred to me that they uncovered that fact by kidnapping another Dissident and then replicating his appearance.
Never once had I guessed that the yellowish skin, the glossy black hair, the short stature of the Other Deshi were simply a replica of a boy named Deshi. Our fourth. Spring.
I take a deep breath. “I think the Others copied him to try to find the rest of us. A boy who looked just like that came to Upper Cell in Connecticut, and he smelled like spring. We found out he was an Other in disguise, but not until he figured out who we were.” The story tumbles out, and I’m unsure whether it will make Pax feel better or worse.
He doesn’t respond at all, or volunteer any more information. Not how he feels about what happened, or that the Others can copy people, slide inside their skin. I wonder how much he and Deshi managed to figure out before they took him. Probably not much. Other Deshi showed up in Connecticut a few weeks into the Cell year, right at the beginning of autumn. The real Deshi and Pax must have met in summer or winter, where they could be together.
There’s a lot Pax needs to know. About Cadi and Ko, how they’re captured and maybe dead. How they might be telling the Others everything they know about us and our “talents.” He might even be blessedly in the dark about how our human parents are dead. He knows his dad is Air—Vant—and I’m curious to find out how that piece of information found its way into his clutches.
Lucas and I only found out about our parents because Cadi schemed her way to Danbury. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering as I think about that last night, about Lucas. Then I realize Pax’s arrival could mean there’s a chance to find him, and soon.
Before I figure out the best way to broach the subject of travel, though, Pax sets his leftovers in front of Wolf and stands. When he stretches his arms over his head, a glimpse of the tanned, hard muscles of his stomach makes my heart leap into my throat. I divert my eyes before he can catch me, but my face feels like it’s going to melt off. When his gaze does land on mine, it darkens with an indefinable emotion.
“Are you going to invite me to stay or send me packing? Because even though we have a lot to talk about, I’m beat.”
I haven’t been “beat” for weeks, but that’s because I haven’t done much of anything except keep warm and feed myself. If there’s one thing that’s struck me most about Pax in the last hour, it’s that he won’t be rushed into anything. His entire attitude mimics his smile, and every last inch of me knows that trying to coax information out of him will result in the opposite. That character trait is going to drive me to Breaking, to falling completely apart in a way the Others don’t bother to fix—it’s the exact opposite of Lucas’s willingness to brainstorm, to share.
The barrier between Pax and I brews apprehension, but the idea of turning him out doesn’t even cross my mind. “Of course you can stay. But first thing in the morning, we’re going to figure
out what to do next.”
“Thanks.” He tugs one of my blankets to the opposite side of the fire, not asking permission first. After a moment he gets comfortable, his pack propping up his head, and closes his eyes.
It doesn’t take long to clean up the leftover pieces of raccoon. Wolf drags the last of his portion outside and crunches away, as well-mannered as ever. When I lie down across from Pax—who isn’t fooling anyone with his fake sleeping—I wonder what will happen now. The immediate relief that came with finding Lucas isn’t attached to Pax, and whether it’s because I already knew of his existence or because it means something different now, it’s hard to say.
He frowns, not opening his eyes. “Stop staring at me.”
“I’m not. I was thinking.” Flustered heat floods my blood. I’m not going to need a coat if he sticks around.
“Were you thinking about why you built a fire in the floor instead of using that stove over there? It would heat the whole room.” Even though his eyes stay shut, that infuriating smile returns.
I glance at the metal box under the window. There isn’t anything else in this place that could be a stove. It certainly doesn’t look like the ones people cook with inside the boundaries.
Wolf pads back inside, his big pink tongue cleaning grease off of his generous lips. Usually he stays a safe distance away, probably more for my comfort than his, but with Pax invading our space, he drops onto the floor at my back.
Instead of giving Pax any sort of satisfaction, I roll over and pretend his attitude doesn’t bother me in the slightest.
CHAPTER 6.
Pax wakes before I do, and his banging around the metal box—the stove, I guess—shoves my eyes open a few hours earlier than normal. The Others in my dream try to follow me into wakefulness, but disappear like wisps of night banished by sunlight. They were talking about the blizzard, about how they told Apa to make it stop so they could find me. When I tried to wake up, they chased me through the tunnels that connect their minds, the ones that I accidentally invaded when my skin touched a Warden’s.
They’re gone now, but I lie still for a few moments and catch my breath. It’s still dark outside, and moonlight tries to wriggle through the dirt smudged on the windows. The fire has died to embers, allowing the chilly winter into the room. Wolf presses harder against me now, and his thick fur keeps me warm. His pale eyes follow Pax as he shoves wood through a little door on the side of what he claims is a stove.
“Why on earth are you making that racket before the sun even comes up?” In spite of everything, the taste in my mouth makes me hope he doesn’t come too close.
“I wanted to show you how to use the woodstove before I leave.”
That sits me straight up in my blankets, morning breath forgotten. “Before you leave? Where are you going?”
“Back to Portland.”
“But…we haven’t figured out what to do about the Others yet!”
“Come here and light this thing.”
Distracted by his declaration, I get up and cross the room without protest. Cold wind immediately cuts through my clothes, eliciting shivers, speeding my steps. He points inside the stove, where there are some bigger branches and a pile of smaller sticks. Pax has also torn up some of my bloodied, discarded clothing from my first attempts at skinning animals.
The strips of cloth catch quickly under my palms, and after the sticks glow red, Pax closes the door, turning a knob on the door until it won’t go any farther.
“It lets oxygen into the stove. The more air, the hotter it gets. If you get too warm, close it a bit—at night, too.”
“I don’t care how the stupid thing works. It’s not like I plan on staying here for the rest of my life either—no matter how short that might be. What’s in Portland that’s worth us splitting up? Ko and Cadi said—”
“What’s anywhere?” he interrupts. The stubborn set to his jaw returns as his eyes flit everywhere but to mine.
“Okay, fine. What about the Others? They know about us, and they obviously think we’re a threat. Lucas and I want to figure out how to save us. All four of us.”
“First of all, there’s a good chance there’s only three of us now. They’ve had Deshi for months. Second, you and Winter can do what you want. Leave me out of it.”
“But I need your help to find him; I can’t travel alone! And if we’re going to die because of what we can do, don’t you at least want to know why?”
“No. I want to hide long enough for the Others to forget I exist. That’s all.”
Without a backward glance, Pax shrugs into his coat, jams a gray stocking cap over his mussed hair, and stalks out of the cabin. I watch him through the open doorway until he disappears into the trees. After a few seconds, Wolf leaves to take care of business. The solitude pricks my eyes with tears. I’ve tried traveling on my own; nothing happened except my skin producing buckets of sweat, followed by an emotional breakdown.
I need Pax. I have to convince him to help me find Lucas. If he doesn’t want to stick around after that, he can go his own way. The realization pushes me to my feet, despite the fact that the stove spews enveloping heat into the cabin.
The warmth abandons me as I step outside and tug my hood up over my hair. Pax turns at the sound of my running footsteps, expression determined. I stop at the sight of the first serious emotion he’s shown me since seeing me naked yesterday evening.
Pax moves closer, until the smell of apples and cinnamon lodges in my nose, until the heat from him and I winds together. Too close, really. His lips are full and red, chapped from the wind. Our eyes meet and he holds mine with an intensity that traps breath in my lungs.
The moment freezes in time, so still and quiet that his deep voice sounds like a dream when he finally speaks. “I’m sorry if it’s not what you want to hear, that I don’t want to fight. I tried, last season. When they took Desh, I…tried. It’s hopeless.”
A million questions burst in my head, but the pain in his apology twists my throat closed. It stops me from worrying about me, about Lucas, about all of our problems for a second. Instead of getting angry I reach out to touch him, but he jerks his hands away. It feels a little like a slap in the face, and icy fingers slide around my heart. He’s not Lucas, I remind myself. You’ve only just met him.
I drop my hands to my sides. It’s not only that I need him. We need each other. That means building trust, and the fact that he’s trying hard to hide his hurt tugs on my heart. “I’ll go with you. To Portland.”
Surprise lights his blue eyes. “Why?”
“Because I’m sorry that something bad happened to you last season. Bad things happened to me, too. I respect your opinion about the Others, but I’m going to change it. We’re going to find Lucas, and the three of us are going to fight. So the bad things stop happening to all of us.”
A slow sigh of surrender whispers from deep in his chest. A flock of birds take flight a little way off, their red wings flashing against the graying morning sky.
He scrunches up his face, resigned. “I’m not sure you understand the meaning of respect.”
“Well, you’re stuck with me. At least for now.”
That mysterious emotion skitters through his gaze again, the one that looks as if he’s pushing aside what he wants to say or do. It tugs at my center as though it wants to yank us together. Flustered, I step backward and offer a small smile. Avoiding his gaze calms my breathing. “I’m going to pack up. We can leave soon.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll just scout around a bit then.”
Wolf joins me inside after a little while, watching with curious eyes as I stuff my belongings back into one of my duffel bags. The second one is extra now, since there’s no food left. The trash needs to be hidden, maybe buried, in case the Others happen past. The less they know about where I’ve been, the safer I’ll be. Pax, too.
Wolf hears Pax before I do. When the sounds grow loud enough to catch my hearing, though, panic isn’t far behind. I run to the doorway in time
to see him crash out of the underbrush, eyes wild, hair snagged with pine needles and snow.
He doesn’t speak until he’s closer, and the forced whisper swells my fear. “Wardens. In the woods. They’re not far; we have to go.”
“But how did they find us?”
“Summer, we can chat it up later. Right now, we gotta move.”
Pax snatches the duffel bag and grabs me by the hand, propelling us both into the woods at the rear of the cabin. Wolf keeps pace at our side, and gratitude at his loyalty chokes my throat with tears. At the edge of the clearing, the scent of apples and cinnamon swells as leaves and debris lift off the forest floor. Pax whirls and stares back the way we came, hair whipping into his eyes, but I tug hard on his arm.
“No. If you start a windstorm they’ll know you’re here. Right now they think it’s just me.”
“How do you know?”
I don’t know what made me say that, but then the memory of my dream assaults my senses. That’s why I think that. Because the Others in my dream said Apa should stop the storm so they could find her. That means me. I’m the only her, the only female Dissident. There’s no time to explain that to Pax.
Besides, I’m still convincing myself it was just a dream, despite the clarity of their empty black eyes and the grim disgust in the Prime Other’s voice when he ordered his Wardens to hunt me down. “I don’t, but why confirm anything for them?”
He grunts, lowering his free hand and setting down the pieces of forest prepared to do his bidding.
“Fine,” he says. “Let’s go.”
***
We don’t stop for hours, not until the sun’s started to dip toward the horizon. The ground is frozen and cold, the landscape flat once we emerge from the forest. It’s not smart to be out in the open like this, but we’re surrounded by miles and miles of nothing but empty fields. The sky is gray, the ground is white, and it feels as though there is no color left in the world. Even Wolf’s black-and-white coat blends in to the countryside we’re traipsing across.