by Trisha Leigh
“And you said with Mrs. Morgan, the Others used a different word? Disposed?”
“Yes. But they also told the humans she was Broken—they just used that word between themselves. So that doesn’t really tell us much.” I itch to reach out for him, to try to offer comfort, but Pax and I don’t work that way.
A heavy sigh wheezes from deep within him, whooshing out like he’s trying to expel all of the bad feelings eating him alive. I know because I’ve sighed like that before, as though getting rid of the air in my lungs could somehow cleanse my entire life.
“I know we don’t have any proof, or reason to believe they don’t kill the Broken, Summer, but I need to believe it’s possible, at least for now.”
“I think it’s possible they keep them alive.” I would never lie to him, even if he begged.
The truth is we don’t know, and there are enough questions surrounding all of the Others’ actions on Earth and the planets they destroyed before this one to make me question everything.
***
Pax leaves the house before me in the morning, sneaking out to go check on Wolf again while I endure breakfast with the Hammonds. I’m supposed to meet him in the park after Cell to decide what to do next, but it’s time to insist we figure out how to find Lucas. There’s no reason to go to Cell, really, since we found out about Tommy yesterday, but Pax still wants to. I’m not sure if he’s thinking about more clues, or craving something resembling normal, no matter how scary and ugly it can be.
Halfway down the front walk, a yellow mouse darts across my path. I yelp and nearly fall, tripping over my tennis shoes as I stumble onto the grass before it dawns on me that it’s probably not, in fact, a mouse.
Not that I’m particularly familiar with mice, but they’re likely not yellow. And shouldn’t be inside the boundary.
“Griffin,” I hiss, realizing I sound like an idiot talking to the yard. “Get back here and tell me why you’re spying, or so help me, I’m going to stomp on your little mouse tail.”
He runs from behind a bush, clambering up my pant leg and clinging before I can make a move or shake it off. I bite back the squeal threatening to erupt and manage to grab him by the tail. In my palm, the abnormal yellow mouse with huge purple eyes smiles at me, I swear, the second before he pees on my hand.
This time I do squeak, probably sounding a bit like an actual mouse myself, before flinging him away from me into the yard. After a quick glance around to confirm no one is going to report a Broken girl prancing about and talking to herself—no one would believe there’s a mouse inside the boundary, not that a person would speak to one if it were—I glare in the direction he scampered off.
“Stay away from us, Griffin, unless you want to help. We’re not goofing around. And if you make waste on me again, in any form, I’ll eat you for dinner.”
He doesn’t reappear on my way to school. I wiped my sticky palm on the grass, but still go straight to the wasteroom to wash it clean before heading to opening block. It’s strange, after all these weeks, to sit in Cell blocks. Nothing has changed: the Monitors give the same lessons, the kids talk about the same useless things, lunch is the identical chicken and fruit salads I’ve eaten every weekday for over ten years. The whole day feels as though I’m trying to breathe underwater but have forgotten how. The life I had before last autumn doesn’t seem real, like a dream that was stolen by morning sunlight.
My stress level builds slowly all day, but it’s not until lunch that I realize I haven’t overheated once. It’s like my ability to control my fire hands has emerged without my noticing. Now that I think about it, I haven’t had a major loss of control of the heat inside me in weeks; the only times it’s even threatened to escape is when Pax looks at me like he wants to kiss me. Which, in spite of the distance he keeps between us, happens far more often than I want to admit.
We join Val, Monica, and Vincent in the eatery, but it’s a struggle to put food into my belly, even after weeks of not having enough to eat. We shouldn’t be wasting time here; Lucas has waited long enough. Not that I have any idea where or how to find him, but we’ve got to start figuring it out soon. As we’re leaving the eatery, Pax and I hang back, taking our first opportunity to be alone since this morning.
He smiles, which should make me feel better after his reaction to yesterday’s news, but it doesn’t. It makes him look like everyone else, and the sight sends a shudder straight down my spine.
“How’s your day?”
“It’s fine, I guess. I don’t like being here. It’s creepy now that I know it’s all controlled. Like they’re hollow people being marched around by imaginary strings.” I grimace. “I saw Griffin this morning, by the way. He was a mouse. He peed on my hand.”
“What? Where?”
“Outside the Hammonds’.”
A light twitches on in Pax’s eyes. “What did he want?”
It twists a worry in my gut, though I’m not sure what or why. “To irritate me, I think.” I pause, thinking a minute and wondering how to get Pax to tell me what he’s thinking. “For someone who acts disinterested in us and our whole situation, he sure is around an awful lot.”
“We’re going to need a lot more than three questions to figure that guy out,” Pax grumbles.
“Like a lifetime or four, most likely. I don’t know, I told him to stay away unless he wants to help us.”
Pax’s jaw clenches. “We need answers, and he has them. I know it.”
After Cell, we go to the park for free hour to check on Wolf. A steady drizzle keeps the kids indoors, and the clearing is deserted. A light breeze spreads ripples across the pond’s surface, swirling the faint combination of jasmine and cinnamon apples around us.
“Summer, I’m going to suggest something that’s going to sound insane, and you’re going to say no without thinking, but I’m asking you to consider what it could mean before you do.”
His statement catches me off guard. He’s obviously been thinking about whatever it is for a while, since he’s had enough time to decide the idea won’t appeal to me. Curiosity swells and I nod, trying to prepare my face for not reacting like he expects.
“I want answers, and we’re never going to get them running and hiding.”
The extended pause frays my nerve endings. “Pax, please. Spit it out.”
“I think we should kidnap an Other and question him.”
My attempt at controlling my expression fails as my chin drops toward my collarbone. “Pax…” I trail off and take a deep breath, remembering that he’s my friend and I should take the time to think about what he’s saying. A good five minutes later, nothing but the word impossible has crossed my mind. Pax waits the entire time with his hands clasped in front of him, eyes on Wolf, who pees on every tree and bush in the vicinity.
“Even if we could get our hands on an Other—which we can’t, since we don’t know where to find them and they’re never alone—have you missed the part where their minds are connected? If we snagged one, I seriously doubt he’d answer any questions for us, to start with. For another, his mind would be a beacon, telling every single Other on Earth exactly where to find us. Not to mention, one wrong move, one accidental look in his eyes, and a single Other could cause so much pain he’d be the one capturing us.”
“You’re not even considering it.”
“Not considering it? Pax, did you hear anything I just said? Those aren’t just reasons I invented because I’m afraid! The worst possible thing that could happen is for one or both of us to get caught before we find Lucas and Deshi, before we can pool our power and find out what kind of threat we pose.”
“This from the girl who’s been desperate to convince me for months that we’re the ones who can save this planet. Now you want to cower in the corners, looking for your boyfriend instead of making a move. We need information, knowledge. We’re never going to get anywhere without it.”
I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the million cuts his contemptuous tone just sliced in
my heart. He’s hurting and desperate. I’ve been there, and I lashed out at people being kind to me, too. Once I’ve calmed down and am sure my voice won’t wobble, I try again.
“I don’t disagree that we need to know more, but Cadi said we’d be more powerful with all of us. And if we’re going up against them, we’re going to need every last bit of power we can get. We need Lucas and the real Deshi.”
The wind picks up, howling through the trees and turning the late afternoon colder. The sun drops toward the horizon as we sit in disagreement, both unwilling to budge.
Free hour is almost up, and I trudge back to the Hammonds’ alone, Pax staying in the park until we can sneak him into the house. When Mr. Hammond goes into the kitchen for dinner, I let Pax in the front door. He creeps upstairs while I eat roast beef with peas and applesauce with a family that, because of an unfathomable protective spell dropped over me by a half-breed from another planet, thinks I’m their daughter.
Pax and I get ready for bed in silence until finally, I can’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry about Tommy, I am. I’m sorry about Mrs. Morgan, too, and the Sullivans. And Emmy and Reese, and the kids who inhaled that pink dust on accident. But getting ourselves locked up or killed isn’t going to help any of them.”
Pax sinks onto the edge of the bed, dropping his face into his hands and massaging the bridge of his nose. His dark brown hair falls over his forehead in a tousle that begs to be brushed back. Instead I crawl up on the window seat, drawing my knees up and hugging them to my chest. He doesn’t look at me for a long time.
“It makes sense. We have to take care of ourselves first.” He sounds like a robot saying programmed words he thinks I want to hear.
“It’s not only that. Those events already happened. They’re done and in the past and we can’t fix them. The only way we can, I don’t know, honor their deaths or disappearances is to fix the future. We need a real plan, Pax. Not some half-baked idea of catching an Other and making him talk.”
He smiles at me, but it’s not slow or teasing. It’s worn thin. “You said when they had you tied up, you wondered for a minute if you couldn’t get inside their heads, too—cause pain, find things out. What about that?”
The very idea makes my limbs tingle. Fear and anticipation fight for prominence in my blood. “I do think that might be the answer, or at least part of it. Or it could have been, before they realized we have our own places in their tunnels. They’re probably already figuring out a way to combat us, and honestly, they’ve had years of practice guarding their secrets. We haven’t. And even if I wanted to try, my alcove is bricked off. Which means I can’t even get into the rest of the hive.”
“Or you don’t want to try.” He spits out the words as though they’re poison.
Heat boils in my belly, begging to burst through my chest and mouth and out of my hands. He is making it very, very hard not to be angry. In his attempt to assuage his own guilt, he’s trying to force me to share it, not realizing I’m already stooped under almost more than I can carry. I see all of this objectively; I know he’s upset about the situation, not with me. But I’m still getting mad.
Without answering, I turn away from him. Pax perches on the edge of the bed, hands curled tight around the comforter, as stiff as a tree. Minutes pass before my conflicted core settles down enough to allow sleep to wash over me.
In the morning, Pax is gone.
CHAPTER 26.
At first, I’m only a tiny bit worried, figuring Pax cured his restless angst by going to check on Wolf before the day began. We didn’t decide what to do today, but I’m not attending Cell. Even if we’re just going to sit in the Wilds and not talk, we’re leaving the boundary. The longer we spend here, the tighter my nerves wind. After yesterday, they’re about to snap.
I go down for breakfast because stirring up trouble in the final couple of hours doesn’t seem like a good idea, but when the Hammonds shoo me out the front door I wait ten minutes, then sneak back up to my room while Mr. Hammond is shut in his office and Mrs. Hammond cleans the kitchen from breakfast.
I try to ease my anxiety by packing for the next leg of our journey, stowing extra clothes for both of us, blankets, and some toiletries until there’s no room left. Then I flip the comforter so the navy blue faces up, hiding the evidence of Wolf’s presence. Still, Pax doesn’t return. The idea that he would leave me here alone frays my confidence, but I can’t believe it’s possible. He knows our best chance is together, even if we don’t agree on how to go about things.
After a couple hours of pacing and stomach cramps, I’ve had enough of waiting. My anger returns, aimed at my supposed friend who would leave me here to stress and worry all day without an explanation. It’s one thing to need some time or space, but it’s quite another to leave without a word.
Hot from the inside out, and closer to losing control than I’ve been in weeks, I grab the bag off the bed and sling it over my shoulder. It knocks a pillow to the ground, and even though it seems like a silly thing to rectify, I’d rather not give the Hammonds anything to wonder about if they look in this room tomorrow. They probably won’t think anything of it, since somehow it’s always okay when I’m here and also when I’m not, but things are changing. We’ve hurt enough people with our carelessness.
Sighing, I drop the bag and fall to my knees to retrieve the silver pillow. A piece of paper catches my eye under the bed, out of place and strange in this place. I must have knocked it off in my sleep:
Summer –
I understand your side of things, I do. But I can’t leave Portland or move on without knowing for sure whether Tommy is alive or dead. Without that knowledge, there’s nothing for me to fight for. You can’t help, and I’m not mad. I think I know someone who can, though. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.
Panic roars in my ears like gallons of water rushing over rocks. He could be out there looking for an Other, or maybe finding one and getting captured. He could be injured. And he probably has Wolf with him; maybe he’s hurt, too.
When I calm down enough to form an actual thought, my brain settles on the question of who on Earth he believed might help him with his stupid, reckless plan.
The options are seriously limited. There’s no one who would help who could help.
Except Griffin.
Once the name hits me in the face, I know it must be him. The thoughtful spark in Pax’s eyes yesterday when I mentioned that Griffin was still keeping tabs on us. The Sidhe’s natural inclination toward mischief and his endless amusement at watching our escapes and near failures suggest he would help Pax find an Other just so he could delight in the aftermath. He might have his own reasons for wanting to see us challenge the Others, but we can’t depend on that. We can’t depend on him.
We can only depend on ourselves, and now Pax and Wolf are out there, in danger, and I don’t know where they’ve gone.
All I know is that I can’t just sit here.
Taking care to not get caught, I steal through the Sanctioned City of Portland to the boundary in the park. There’s no time to waste looking for a place to cross, so I ignore my instincts and reach a stick through the fence, pressing the button to open the gate. It’s amazing how easy it is to find now that I know they’re in the same place in every city. Or at least in Danbury and Portland, but the Others do have a penchant for uniformity.
On the other side of the boundary, my eyes scan the Wilds as the opening clicks shut behind me. It looks pretty much like every other part of the Wilds, and in spite of the fact that Pax and Wolf are missing, being back out here feels right. It feels like I can breathe again.
The bag drags my shoulder down, but switching sides every once in a while helps. Unlike when I left Des Moines laden with supplies earlier this winter, I have two good legs and it’s not snowing. Plus, walking for hours a day, weeks on end, has turned my legs into ropy muscle. Still the problem remains, I’m walking to nowhere.
When the sun reaches a high point, even though its rays are to
o weak to warm the afternoon, it makes me slow to a stop. Half the day has passed with no results to show for it, but I don’t know what else to do. A scream borne of helplessness gathers in my throat, begs for release, but even alone in the Wilds I don’t dare let it loose. The Others could be anywhere.
Pax’s story about where the Wardens took him last summer, where they imprisoned him and Deshi, makes me realize I do have a destination. They ferried him to a building that sounded exactly like the one where they took the Morgans and me outside of Danbury. Maybe there are buildings like those outside each Sanctioned City.
I bite my lip, trying to remember how long the rider sped through the Wilds that night, but it’s no use. My mind was not on my surroundings at the time. But a black glass building waits in the Wilds outside of Portland, and if I was looking to ambush an Other, that’s where I would look. That’s where Pax went, I’m sure of it.
Now that the sun has crested and begun to fall, at least I know I’m stomping in one direction and not in circles. The thought of Lucas and me, of our inexperience with navigating that first night we went looking for Cadi, almost makes me smile. We walked in a huge loop before we realized all of the hours spent memorizing star charts could help us stay on a straight path. The memory burns, and for a second I stop, tempted to leave and go after Lucas on my own. But I don’t know how to travel out of winter without help, be it from Pax, the Spritans, or the Sidhe. None of who seem able or willing to assist in reuniting me with Lucas.
When Wolf bounds toward me through a clump of bushes, panting and wild-eyed, I can’t help the relieved smile that takes over my face. Tears gather, revealing how much terror is pent up inside me. It’s not the time to give in to them, but for a moment, with my arms around Wolf’s neck, I admit to myself how scared today has made me.