Revelations (The Elysium Chronicles)

by Souders, J. A.

  Gavin follows my gaze. “That’s the mayor’s house. They built it right after I was born, when the city sent the mayor to … uh … help us.”

  I glance over at him only to see him scowling at the ground, but then he points to another building slightly closer to us. “And that’s where Ann Marie and Josh are going to move. It’s the newest building. My mom and Ann Marie say it’s beautiful inside. And they say the building is strong enough to withstand the hurricanes even though it’s so tall.”

  I frown. “Hurricane?”

  Gavin’s younger brother, Tristan, jumps in front of me, startling me. I almost scream before gaining control of myself. I had no idea he was even following us.

  “Oh, it’s a really bad storm and it’s so cool!” he says. “The winds are so strong they can rip trees right from the ground and toss them miles away. Once, a few years ago, one totally tore our neighbor’s house apart while they were in it! And another time…”

  “Tristan! That’s enough,” Gavin says, giving him a look.

  “Sorry,” he mutters, looking anything but. If I wasn’t horrified about the hurricane, I’d laugh at his expression.

  I turn back to Gavin, my heart in my throat. “What’s a storm?”

  He glares at Tristan. “It’s just something where there’s a lot of wind and rain. No big deal, usually.”

  That sounds terrible. “When is the next … hurricane?”

  “Don’t worry about it. They only come during the summer and it’s been years. We’ll be fine.” He shoots Tristan another look.

  I nod, but swallow, my stomach feeling hollow.

  Gavin clears his throat. “Er … as I was saying, the mayor’s house is the largest, and they’ve been adding new buildings around it since then with the help from the city. We should go so you can meet some more people.” He sees my expression and adds, “Everyone is really friendly. Don’t worry. They’re going to love you.”

  Tristan grabs my hand and starts pulling me farther into town. It doesn’t escape my notice how Gavin doesn’t so much as protest Tristan tagging along. He must do it a lot. It makes my heart flutter a little knowing how much Gavin cares for his family. How close they are. How close they want to be. It’s odd how the village changes the farther inland we go. The buildings closest to the shoreline—the two or three of them that aren’t completely fallen down—are small, squat, wood structures that have seen their fair share of wind, rain, and sunshine. They were probably pretty once, but now they sit in various stages of disrepair. The windows are coated in thick scales of salt water, and the wood is grayed and cracked in places.

  The buildings on the other side of those are sort of strange. Gavin tells me people live in them, so they must be housing of some sort, but they don’t look anything like Gavin’s three-story house with its red bricks, faded black shutters, and wraparound porch. They’re barely taller than me. All four walls and the roof are made with ridged metal sheets that are stained red with rust. There are so many holes in the metal, the walls are practically none existent. A strong wind could probably blow them all right over. As we pass, I glance in the open doorway of one and see a chair and table that look like they’ve seen better days. From my position, it’s hard to see if there’s anything else in there, but as I’m looking, a woman steps out, wiping her hands on her jeans.

  When she sees Gavin, she lifts a hand in an absent wave. Her gaze moves to me and although she looks curious now, she extends the wave in my direction. I flutter my fingers back and she smiles in return before walking around the side of the house. I follow her movements with my eyes and watch as she climbs into a knee-high fenced-in area. I recognize a group of chickens. Gavin has some behind his house and every morning Tristan goes out and gathers eggs for breakfast. I wrinkle my nose when I think about how dirty and gross-looking they are before he washes them. I don’t even want to think about where Gavin told me they come from. I shudder and Gavin glances over.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Of course.” My stomach still tumbles like driftwood in a wave, but I press my hands to it.

  He gives me a strange look, then shrugs and continues forward. We pass some more of those strange little metal houses, which are placed randomly on the sand until we get to a set of buildings that seem to be laid out with more thought. They’re all an equal distance apart and the same distance from the dirt path. While they’re in various stages of completion, it’s easy to see they’re all going to look exactly the same as the one finished one. Two floors high, if the windows are any indication, with white walls and light blue roofs. It strikes me then, how dirty everything is here. Even the new buildings and the ones that are still skeletons of what they will be have a thick layer of dirt and grime. I don’t know why, but it bothers me. Dirt leads to disease. And disease to death.

  We follow a large path, passing another row of those apartment-type buildings before getting to other buildings in various states of repair. Some look brand new, like the general store. Tristan disappears into the building without saying a word and Gavin only shakes his head.

  Next to that is something called Sheriff’s Office and it, too, looks new, but not quite as … shiny as the general store, whose windows glisten in the bright sun and blind me even through the dark sunglasses I’m forced to wear to protect my eyes.

  Across the street, other buildings look old and worn out. Tired, almost. Like the building called Bar. There are even metal poles on the dusty windows. Next to that is a dusty building housing the Metal Smith, with a hole in its brick wall. The roaring and banging sounds coming from the large opening make me nervous, and, for some reason, it’s hotter standing outside of it than it is anywhere else. The air is all wavy in front of me.

  A man—at least I think it’s a man—wearing a striped shirt and jeans with some kind of black apron pokes his hat-covered head out the opening. When he sees Gavin, he waves. “Gavin! Do ya have a minute? I finished the repairs on the shotgun. Thought you’d want a peek.”

  Gavin grins and pulls me over to the opening while the man disappears inside again. When he returns, he’s holding a gun. He hands it to Gavin, then does the funniest thing. His eyes move over to me. He blinks. Then blinks again. Then his eyes grow round and he whisks his hat from his head and balls it in his hands. “Pardon me, miss. Didn’t see ya there.” His dirt-streaked face turns bright red.

  Gavin glances over, but quickly goes back to studying the gun. “Oh, Frank, this is my girlfriend, Evie. Evie, this is Frank. He’s the metalsmith. He’s a genius. If it’s made from metal he can work magic.”

  Magic?

  Frank blushes even more, wringing his poor cap in his hands so tightly I’m afraid he’s going to tear it.

  I do a little curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Frank looks slightly confused, but nods. Then he turns his attention back to Gavin. “What’cha think?”

  Gavin looks up and nods. “Another great job, Frank. Thanks!” He holds his hand out and I watch with interest as Frank takes it and shakes it. I’ve seen Gavin do that with Dr. Gillian, too. “I’ll have Tristan drop by with the rest of that boar I owe you later. Okay?”

  Frank nods. “Or whenever.” He focuses back on me. “He’s good folk.” He jerks his head toward Gavin. “You won’t find a better person than Gavin, miss. He oughtta be mayor, instead of that yahoo they got in the mansion now.” He spits on the ground as if just saying “mayor” leaves a bad taste in his mouth. I jump away and try not to show how disgusted I am by it, but I must not hide it well, because he says, “I beg pardon, miss.”

  I force a smile and try not to look at the ground where he spat. “Think nothing of it.”

  He gives me that strange look again, but smiles back before winking. “I charge the mayor up front and double.”

  Gavin laughs. “Next time charge him triple.” He pulls the shotgun’s strap over his shoulder and takes my hand, waving with the other as we leave.

  When we get back to the street,
I turn back around in time to see Frank shove his hat back on his head and disappear behind the wall again.

  Gavin takes me on a tour of the town, stopping at almost every building to introduce me to the people inside. There are so many people, considering how small the township really is, that I can’t keep them straight. Only two stick in my head. Mr. Pok, who runs the feed and grain store, and Mrs. Little, who runs the general store with her three adorable daughters.

  After asking about his mother, Mrs. Little hands Gavin a bolt of fabric. “Here’s the rest of the payment for that pheasant your ma brought me the other day. Sure was a pretty thing. Tasty, too.” She winks at him. Then she hugs me. My whole body tenses. Gavin’s mom and sister are big on hugs, too, and it always makes me feel peculiar. But, as I do with them, I force myself to relax and then, unsure what else to do, decide to hug her back.

  “Welcome!” she tells me. “I’m so glad to see you’re well enough that you can visit!” While she’s talking, another customer comes in behind her. A boy that looks to be about Gavin’s age.

  Everyone in the town has been a bit strange to me, but this one is the most bizarre one yet. His dark hair has a blue streak in the front, and his button-down shirt is loose over his slacks. Instantly there’s tension in the air. I glance over at Gavin, who is scowling again. The new boy, on the other hand, stops in his tracks when he sees us. They watch each other carefully, reminding me of the way Lucy behaved when a different dog came over and wanted me to pet it. They circled and growled at each other for a long time, while I sat petrified—I still don’t know if I was scared of them or of myself—until Gavin’s mother came out and chased the other one off with a broom.

  Mrs. Little clears her throat and we all turn to her. “It was wonderful finally meeting you, Evie. You come back here anytime, ya hear? Gavin, you get on back to your mom now. She’ll be waiting for that fabric and I don’t have time to be cleaning up after the two of you.”

  Gavin looks like he’s going to argue, but Mrs. Little places her hands on her hips and Gavin ducks his head. “Yes, ma’am.” He walks past the boy, who nods his head and smiles at me as we pass. I smile cautiously back and the boy’s grin grows.

  As soon as we slip out the door, I grab Gavin’s arm. “Who was that?” I ask.

  He shrugs and keeps going. “No one.”

  “Didn’t seem like no one.” I have to rush to keep up with him. He seems in a hurry to get away from the store.

  “Just an old friend.”

  I stop and turn, calling over my shoulder, “Well, if he’s an old friend, then I should meet him. Maybe we should be friends, too.” I only take one step before Gavin’s in front of me, his hands on my shoulders.

  “He’s not your friend. He’s not anyone’s friend. You can’t trust him. Ever.” His eyes are cold and hard. It’s scary, but kind of sexy too. Heat spreads from my stomach outward. I’ve never seen him like this. I glance over his shoulder and see the boy walk out of the store. He pauses when he sees Gavin, then turns and walks in the opposite direction.

  “Why not?” I ask, moving my eyes back to Gavin’s.

  He’s quiet for so long, I think he’s not going to answer, but finally he says, “He— His father is the mayor. And the mayor is sent from Rushlake City. People from Rushlake never do anything without expecting payment in return, and you do not want to owe what they want to be paid.” His eyes are haunted, and though I know he’s not telling me the entire truth, I can’t push him. It’s obvious the real reason isn’t something he wants to talk about.

  Instead, I peer over at the building next to us. It’s brick, like the rest of the buildings, but like the general store almost the entire front is a shiny glass window. The words “Butcher” are painted across in black and gold paint. “So … what’s this place? Are you friends with the owner, too?”

  He glances over. “Sal works here. I generally bring my game here after I field dress it. They turn it into steaks or sausages or whatever it is we want. It’s also where we bring the chickens when they stop laying. The farmers bring their cows and pigs.” He grins at me. “So, yeah, he’s a friend of mine.”

  “Great.” I push through the door. “Then introduce me.”

  Like at the general store, a bell tinkles whenever the door moves. “Be out in a sec!” a man calls out from a door behind a counter filled with various meat products. My stomach twists seeing them all laid out behind the glass, glistening red in their icy beds.

  Swallowing hard, I turn away from the counter, which runs almost the entire length of the wall farthest from the door, leaving only a small space behind it for whoever runs the shop. Above that space are large pieces of meat—as large as me at least—hanging from giant hooks on the ceiling. The rest of the shop is empty, all the way to its clean white walls. That’s where I keep my eyes.

  Just then a man’s voice booms through the room. “Gavin! I was hoping you’d stop by soon. Doc stopped by with those blue gill you’d caught…”

  I turn as he talks, but what he’s saying is lost when I see him. He’s a large man, barely fitting behind his counter in either height or girth. His hair—what’s left of it—is dark. His skin tone is somewhere between Gavin’s golden hue and Doc’s dark color. But it’s his apron that I’m staring at. That I can’t tear my eyes from. It was probably white, once upon a time, but now it’s completely covered in blood.

  The rusty scent of blood is thick in the air, getting thicker the longer I stand here. It makes me nauseated and not a little scared. A horrible chill enters my bones and I shudder.

  As if from a distance, Gavin asks, “Evie, are you okay?”

  I nod, digging my fingernails into my palm and trying to force a smile. I will not be an inconvenience. Not again. It’s just a little blood. From the animals. It’s part of life.

  My head spins, and I glance around trying to find something, anything to look at besides the blood on this man’s apron. I see the counter with all the meat in it, but instead of steaks and chops, it’s littered in body parts.

  Human body parts.

  Arms with their hands pressing against the glass as if trying to break out. Legs split open with their bones showing. Even severed fingers.

  It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. But when I turn away from the counter, looking at the butcher again, he smiles at me and I fight back a scream. His face is streaked with blood, his teeth painted in it and bits of gore. His whole body is blanketed in blood. From head to foot. Gleaming, shining brightly in the sun. Blood.

  When we get to the end of the trail, there’s a body lying on the floor, surrounded by the light of my flashlight, just as I expected. But what’s there is far worse than anything I was anticipating.

  There’s a man leaning over the body of a woman, who is most certainly dead. Or at least I hope so, because the man is ripping her apart …

  … He slowly turns, so he’s facing us, then tilts his head to the side, watching us.

  A shiver runs down my spine, and Gavin’s breath catches. I tighten the grip on the pistol, preparing to raise and fire if need be.

  “It is my privilege to follow Mother’s orders. We don’t question Mother.” Then he leaps toward us.…

  I run. I don’t stop to think. I couldn’t if I tried. I don’t know where I’m running to. I don’t care. As long as it’s far away from the butcher and his display of severed body parts.

  The world spins uncontrollably. Black spots swim in front of my eyes. I can’t catch my breath and my heart is pounding as if trying to escape the confines of my chest. I hear Gavin calling my name, but it’s as if he’s kilometers away. I’m vaguely aware of falling before I completely succumb to darkness.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Attention Outlanders: Only preapproved individuals are allowed entrance into Rushlake City. To obtain approval, please visit your local mayor for a visa.*

  *Approval is not guaranteed. All outlanders approved for entrance are subject to the Rushlake City Community Standards
. Any violation of these standards may result in the forfeiture of the visa and formal ban from readmittance.

  —NOTICE ON VILLAGE BULLETIN BOARD

  Evie

  When I wake, I just stay where I am—from the softness under me I assume it’s my bed—while visions of what happened flit in and out of my memory. My body is stiff and sore. My arms feel like lead and it hurts to breathe—like I’m inhaling glass slivers. When I open my eyes, I find myself staring directly into Gavin’s silver-gray eyes.

  “Gavin!” I exclaim, my voice hoarse, forgetting everything that happened to grab him in a hug. I don’t know why, but absolutely every time I see him, it doesn’t matter what I’ve been through. He makes me feel better.

  He clings to me, his arms shaking a little. He just holds me like that for the longest time, and I enjoy every second of it, even though the pressure he exerts on my still-healing shoulder makes my chest ache.

  He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “It happened again.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. It’s not like I can deny it. It did happen again. Obviously.

  I nod anyway.

  “Damn it!” He pushes away from me to pace the small room.

  Shivering from the sudden coolness that fills the space his warmth vacated, I hug myself and follow him with my eyes. There isn’t much room for him to pace, though. Not with all of the paraphernalia for his sister’s wedding packed onto her side of the room. He curses when his foot becomes entangled in something white and lacy.

  “Gavin,” I whisper, my throat raw and burning and guilt eating a hole in my heart.

  He spins back around and crushes me to his body again, causing me to squeak when I try to breathe. He buries his face in my neck.

  “You scared me,” he whispers into my skin.

  “I’m sorry.” I smooth his hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”