Clover

by Lisa Jade

  Just like the last time, I receive one or two curious stares from the workers. I’m reminded of how little I resemble them, how much I stand out. But cowering from their gaze isn’t going to help, so I pull back my shoulders and try to seem like I belong. Eventually, the stares seem to lessen.

  Sara and Kane exchange nervous glances.

  “T-this place is huge.”

  “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Course I do,” I growl, but something squirms in my stomach when I speak. I have a theory – if it doesn’t work out, I don’t have a backup plan – but they don’t need to know that. As we walk, I can still feel fear coming off them. I don’t blame them, either. I had been just as frightened when I first arrived. At least they have each other.

  I step down onto one of the piers, unnerved by the creaking underfoot. At least I don’t have a cart with me this time.

  “Huh.”

  Something about this feels familiar. I look wildly from side to side. Why does this particular corner feel so familiar?

  Then, I see it; a small boat in the distance. It’s rusted half to hell and doesn’t look like it should be able to stay afloat, much less travel the whole sea – but I don’t care. Because it’s familiar, too. I make a beeline for it, relief filling me. They’re here.

  Two figures stand nearby, arms crossed as though their work is done and they’re just awaiting their orders. As we near, I start to pick out details; broad arms and a rugged face on the older man, and a strange gentleness on the younger’s, despite his large shoulders and muscular physique.

  Darus.

  A wide smile splits my face and I fight to remain calm as I walk towards them. I don’t want to make too much of a fuss, don’t want to draw any attention; but I’m happy to see them. Not just because they could help us, but because the last time I’d seen them, I’d felt an uncharacteristic sadness at seeing them go.

  Darus glances up as we approach, and I spot the slightest glimmer of recognition in his eyes. I wouldn’t blame him for not remembering me; I look different from back then, and it was several months ago. If not for everything that’s happened, I’d have forgotten them by now, too.

  But then his face breaks into a warm smile.

  “Noah, you’re back.”

  There’s an undeniable hint of warmth in my face as he steps closer, regarding me closely. His dark eyes sweep up and down the lines of my body, drinking in the changes. It must be unnerving to see me like this – I glance down and tug at my shirt, making sure to cover the blood stained bandage still wrapped around me.

  “H-hey,” I eventually manage.

  Behind him, his Dad winks; but it’s not a threat like when Wirrow did it, or a joke like Pan’s. It’s almost a bizarre kind of greeting, an acknowledgement. I don’t know how to return such a message, so I just nod.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Darus says. I stuff my hands into my pockets, doing my utmost to seem casual.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever have to make this journey a second time. But at least they didn’t send me alone this time round. These two are Sara and Kane.”

  He peers at the others, who’ve been standing silently behind me as though afraid to speak or even move. If he recognises Kane’s name from before, he doesn’t show it. Just extends his hand in greeting.

  “Hey. Any friends of Noah are friends of mine.”

  Kane clicks his tongue.

  “Sorry, who are you?”

  I shoot Kane a glare, preparing to scold him – how dare he jeopardise this for the sake of idle curiosity? But before I can speak, Darus chuckles.

  “Ah, she didn’t tell you about me? I’m Darus. This is my Dad.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” says Sara, stepping up to grasp his hand. Kane doesn’t motion for the same, or even respond to his greeting – but the older man isn’t offended by it.

  “So what do you think?” I ask, “can you take us across?”

  “Sure, we’re just about to head out. No cart this time?”

  I bite my lip.

  “No. We’re going for some routine maintenance. Nothing exciting, but you know city types. Can’t do anything for themselves.”

  I try to laugh it off, but the laugh is too mirthless and my smile is too fake – and though Darus steps aside to allow us onto the boat, I can feel his eyes on me.

  The man’s not stupid. He knows.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  As midday hits overhead, I sigh. Since we set off several hours ago, I’ve been standing at this same spot towards the front of the boat. I’ve no idea what the others are doing down below, and I’ve still not busied myself with helping out even though I know I should. But I can’t seem to shake this strange feeling, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from that spot on the horizon that might just be Thorne.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I don’t need to turn around to know who’s asking. Darus watches me with renewed curiosity, and though I wish I could ask him what’s so different, I fear drawing attention to it. I want to trust him implicitly, but it’s not so simple. All I know for sure is that he’s bent the rules once before – that doesn’t mean he’d willingly break the law. He’s already had one ‘fresh start’. It’s better for him if he doesn’t know.

  I’d been excited to find him and tell him everything that’s happened. I’d imagined his face as he learned the truth about the world, dreamed about him begging to accompany us the rest of the way. I enjoy his company; he’d be a relaxing presence if nothing else, bringing a sense of serenity to the ghastly affairs of the city.

  But as I look at him now, I can’t do it. Darus has never fallen victim to the cruelties of the Mill. His life is the ocean and his family and this wonderful sensation that seems to fill the air around us.

  So I just smile serenely in response. He doesn’t buy it.

  “You can’t get off that easily. I know you better than that. Remember? People don’t stand out here unless they’ve got something on their mind.”

  He really does remember me. I try to throw together some nonsense idea in my head. Any excuse will work, anything that sounds halfway plausible. Nothing comes to mind.

  “I’m going back. That’s what’s wrong.”

  He grimaces.

  “Was it that bad?”

  “No. Not really. I kind of loved it.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  I open my mouth to reply, then bite back on the words. I’m just scared I won’t be the same when I return. I’m scared I’ll be too afraid to fight alongside the others. I’m scared they’ll reject me. I’m scared that Kane won’t ever forgive me, or that I’ll somehow fail and let both him and Sara down.

  Even so, I can’t wait to return home. I want to bury my face in my warm, familiar pillow and gulp down plentiful servings of Pan’s home cooking. I want to build with Nate and see whatever incredible thing Jensen’s doing on his computers. I want to wrestle with the others and watch videos with my brother. I glance back, half expecting to see Atlas hovering there, ever present. Nothing.

  Suddenly, it dawns on me just how much I miss them.

  “I want to go back.”

  “Then how come you look like you’re about to cry?”

  “Because…”

  I bite my lip.

  “…I should never have left in the first place.”

  There. I said it. The words linger in the air, both prominent and meaningless. Those words are my confession that I was wrong, that this was harder than expected and that I’ve failed in my mission. But though the words hurt me, Darus’ expression doesn’t change. When he does speak, his voice is low and gravelly.

  “That kid you brought with you, the one with the attitude. Is that the same Kane you told me about last time?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry about him. Things are still kind of tense. We’re kind of on an, um, impromptu trip right now.”

  He smirks.

  “I knew you were running away.”<
br />
  I swallow hard. Suddenly, I remember how it felt to sob like a child in the arms of a perfect stranger. I’d figured we’d never meet again. But there he is, watching me with kindly eyes. I don’t want to tell him everything. He’s the only Millchild I’ve ever met who’s been happy. But those clear eyes demand the truth. He’s never lied to me before. Perhaps I should return the favour.

  “How did you figure it out?”

  “Easy enough,” he says, “yesterday, we were told to look out for three escaped Mine workers. Nondescript. The Guards didn’t seem to know their names and it was pretty clear nobody took the risk seriously. Then the next thing I know, you’re asking for a ride.”

  “So they did warn everyone.”

  “Yeah, but nobody cared. If they did, you’d have been ratted out straight away. If anything, people were impressed someone could escape the Mines.”

  That explains the uncomfortable stares at the Dock, as well as the eventual silence that emerged. The other workers knew exactly who we were; but they were on our side. Something about that makes me smile.

  “So why are you running away?”

  His voice is soft now. It’s not a demand, but a request. I can’t refuse him.

  “I’m going back to Thorne so I can help overthrow the leaders there,” I say bluntly, “but I needed some Mill worker DNA to do it, so I had to go back. But I messed up, got caught and thrown into the Mines. I found Kane down there and he doesn’t hate me quite as much anymore, so we blew up a Guard and came here.”

  Darus’ mouth hangs open, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Sorry, I guess that was a lot of information, huh?”

  “N-no, it’s fine. Why… why do you want to overthrow their leaders?”

  My hands tighten against the railing.

  “They’ve done some pretty awful things to innocent people, including me.”

  “So you’re out for revenge?”

  I hadn’t considered that before. I search my feelings, ask myself whether I want to see the leaders hurt or executed for all they’ve done. But I’m disgusted by the hypocrisy of it.

  “No. I don’t want revenge. I just want them to stop.”

  “You really don’t want to tell me, do you?”

  I laugh.

  “You’re better off not knowing. It’d ruin everything for you.”

  “If it’s going to affect me, don’t I have the right to know?”

  Damn. Good point. I shoot him an irate look, but his eyes just sparkle in response. He knows he’s got me.

  “So that’s what happened.”

  Darus is staring at his hand now, slowly clenching and unclenching his fist. Perhaps it’s the sheer volume of information I just unloaded onto him, or maybe it’s the exhaustion of a long day. Most likely, I’ve just made him realise how little he understands – and consider who he might be.

  “I’m so sorry,” I beg, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  He looks my way and for the merest ghost of a moment, I could swear I can see anger in his eyes. I wouldn’t blame him. But then he draws his lips back into a small smile, and whatever frustration still lingering in his gaze dissipates.

  “Can I come?”

  “What?”

  He turns to face me, a wild look in his eyes.

  “Let me come with you to the city.”

  “Are you crazy? Why would you want to make that trip? It nearly killed me the first time round. Not to mention the chaos we’ll be starting back in Thorne. Besides…”

  I wave at the boat around us, at the golden waves below.

  “Why would you ever want to leave? You have the boat. This amazing sight. Your Dad.”

  “But he’s not be my Dad.”

  “He is. You said it yourself, remember? When you had your mind blanked, he was the only one who looked out for you. Wouldn’t he be heartbroken if you left? Wouldn’t you miss him?”

  He hesitates at that, conflict warring on his face.

  “O-of course I would. Maybe you’re right. This is my home, I can’t just take off on some ridiculous adventure.”

  His shoulders slump. I hadn’t thought he’d be so eager to help us, let alone join us. But despite his broad build and endless bravery, he’s not cut out for the city. It sounds strange, but tearing him away from this haven and taking him to the chaos of Thorne would be nothing short of cruelty.

  “I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not that I don’t want you there – I do! But this place is amazing and you’re happy here, and I can’t take you knowing how much it would hurt you both. I finally understand how important family is, and you can’t abandon yours.”

  “I know. It would destroy my Dad.”

  Something shifts behind us. The older man is standing by, just beyond our last line of sight. A set of wizened grey eyes are fixed on Darus’ strong form. The younger man flushes red.

  “Dad. How much did you hear?”

  “Enough,” comes the muttered reply, “and I think you should do it.”

  “Huh?”

  “Go. Find out the truth. If that’s what will make you happy, do it.”

  Darus stares, hurt flashing in his eyes.

  “B-but, what about you?”

  “Easy. Oh dear, my son fell into the ocean. No point searching, we’re just workers, right? I can cover for as long as you need. And if you ever choose to return, I’ll cover for you then, too.”

  “But I can’t leave you alone!” Darus cries, “don’t you want me around?”

  “Course I do. But I heard what that girl said just as clearly as you did. I believe her. Do you really think you’ll be able to forget about her stories if you stay behind, or will it drive you mad knowing you didn’t snatch the opportunity while you could?”

  Darus falters at that, his expression dropping. I feel awful as I look between them, knowing the part I play in tearing this unit apart. But there’s no hurt in his Father’s eyes, no anger; just understanding. He’s more than willing to let the boy he raised leave, just as long as he’s happy. Suddenly, I understand what it is to have a parent. His Dad glances my way, a sudden hardness in his eyes.

  “Will you take care of my boy? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then Darus, what are you going to do?”

  He looks between the two of us for a moment, perhaps waiting for a flash of anger or the merest hint of a demand; but he receives nothing. We won’t force him. Finally, he heaves a sigh.

  “Dad, I’m sorry. I’m happy here, I really am. But you know I’ve always wondered if there’s something else. Things have never added up. I need to find out why.”

  His father nods.

  “Then, you have to get ready.”

  “Huh?”

  “The walk into the city is ridiculous. You kids won’t last long without supplies. The cargo hold is packed to the brim with stuff inbound for Thorne. Take what you need, and we’ll write some off as having being destroyed in a small fire.”

  He winks at me, and I find myself wondering if he intends to set a small fire aboard his own ship to serve as cover for his son’s escape. Man, what a parent. Mom and Dad’s faces flash in my head, and I wonder if they’d do the same for me. But I stop. Of course they would. They died for me and Jay. What more could anyone do for their kids?

  I step a little closer and grasp his Dad’s hand tightly.

  “Thank you for everything, sir.”

  It’s getting dark by the time we reach the docks. Darus doesn’t move to share farewells with his Dad – I can only assume they’ve already said whatever needs to be said. As he passes me a pack and instructs me to put it on, I notice his eyes are red. Has he been crying?

  “Are you sure you want to come?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. It’s just, uh, harder than I expected to leave home. I do want to come back again, eventually.”

  I nod. That’s one feeling I can certainly understand.

  “For the record,” I smile, “you’re really brav
e for doing this. Not many would – that’s why we’re a band of just four.”

  “Making history, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  We vault the fence as night begins to fall over the Dock, and quickly find ourselves on the endless stretch of highway that leads to Thorne. I’m surprised at how quickly we traverse its length – alone this had been days of walking, but without the weight of the cart straining at my shoulders and the impending sense of isolation, everything moves much quicker.

  Having food and water helps, too. I’d been frightened of tackling the journey without supplies, but Darus has brought plenty from the boat. They’re little more than bottles of water and a few packs of hard biscuits, but for where we are and what we need, it’s plenty. As I bite into yet another semi-solid lump of food, I catch myself drooling. They taste like nothing, but what I would have given to have these during my first journey! Still, it’s a long way. I feel my limbs growing heavier with every few miles we walk, and each time a truck passes by, we’re forced to jump aside and lower our heads to our chests in hopes they don’t notice us. They never do; just like before, nobody cares. We’re of no consequence to them. But I still catch myself tugging the filthy rim of my hood over my eyes. I can’t risk being recognised. After all, Maynard did air footage of the whole helicopter debacle.

  After several hours, Sara groans. It’s the first sound any of us have made since leaving the Dock, aside from heavy breaths and the occasional muttered curse word.

  “You okay?” I shout. She’s only a few steps behind me, ambling along as best she can, so I don’t really know why I’m yelling – but she just whines in response.

  “I’m tired…”

  “Newsflash,” Kane snaps, “of course you’re tired. We’re all tired.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, trying to inject some sense of reassurance into my voice, “I think we’re about a quarter of the way there. We’re making this journey much faster than I’d have thought.”

  At that, they stop. I can feel three pairs of eyes shooting daggers at my back. I turn to face them, but I feel sheepish as I do so.