For a brief second, the atrium was filled with desolate stillness. No one dared to breathe or move. It was the concierge who finally moved out from her post and approached the shell-shocked family.
“I’ve been instructed, Mrs. King, to have the guards walk you home. And, I’m so sorry, but please hand over your keys. You and your family are under house arrest. Such a shame.” Maxine eyed the woman and dug into her pocket. She flipped the keys onto the ground, forcing the woman to bend down and pick them up. “Yes, well, thank you. And have a wonderful day at—” she stopped herself, aware of the gaffe, and cringed.
Maxine turned, her nostrils flaring. “Have a wonderful day at Kymberlin?” she repeated incredulously. And then she added for good measure, “Do us all a favor and go to hell.”
When they arrived back at their house, Maxine cried for a second. She hit her head against the door and cried. But then she stopped as suddenly as she had started and wiped her tears. She took her full glass of water from earlier and carried it with her up the stairs. Every step seemed laborious and yet Maxine moved with a trancelike quality—her eyes never traveling to the children downstairs.
“Mom?” Lucy asked, running after her, but Maxine drifted upward without turning. She walked across the loft and opened her bedroom door and slipped inside then shut it soundlessly. Lucy turned and saw her brothers and sisters huddled together. Monroe and Malcolm were holding hands and Galen was holding Harper. They looked to her.
“What are we going to do?” Monroe asked.
“I’m scared,” Malcolm added.
“Is dad coming home?” Harper asked.
Galen patted the little girl’s back and shook his head. “Come on, let’s go downstairs and play for a bit.”
“I don’t want to play,” Monroe said. “I want Mom. I want Dad.”
Lucy walked over and crouched down on the ground. She opened her arms and her siblings rushed forward. Together they hugged and breathed as one. When Lucy finally stood up and brushed her fingers across the twin’s hair and straightened Harper’s camisole, she could feel their eyes looking to her for answers. She pushed aside her own terror and grief, and looked at those who needed her most.
She shuddered to think of her siblings enduring their father’s death without her.
“I think we wait,” she told them. She thought of Cass and wondered how to get a message to her friend; and she thought of her father. Suicide. The explosion off the shore. There were so many unanswered questions enmeshed with her grief. “But I don’t want you to worry about anything, you hear me? I’ve got this. We’ll get through this together.”
Galen had tucked Harper into bed and the twins played a board game. They did not seem committed to winning. Each one moved his piece robotically. Sometimes they forgot whose turn it was next. Eventually, Monroe just put his head down on the carpet and stared at the wall. Galen and Lucy sat and stared out of their window. It was a spectacle: the helicopters buzzed around the crash site for hours. Wisps of smoke still appeared on the horizon, but the tendrils were smaller now, barely noticeable. Upstairs, their mother was quiet.
“Should we check on her?” Galen asked.
Lucy shook her head.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Lucy hesitated. She did not know what was beyond the other side, but she was certain that it wasn’t anything good. Two armed guards were stationed just beyond their doorway in the hall; anyone knocking on their door would be there with authority. Her first instinct was to hide the children. Then she lamented that she hadn’t thought of plotting an escape sooner. Could she have tunneled her way to the other homes? Would anyone have aided in their escape? Were they friendless and alone?
With a deep breath, she walked over and opened the door an inch.
It was Gordy and Blair. Their faces stern, Lucy couldn’t see the guards.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Lucy said, and she started to close the door, but Gordy was quick and he pushed the door back open and let himself inside their apartment. Blair followed and shut the door quickly. She slid the lock into place and scanned the living room.
“Where’s your mother?” Gordy asked.
“I’m in charge,” Lucy answered. “To get to my mother, you go through me.”
Gordy smiled, amused. He tilted his head. “Oh yeah?”
From behind her, Lucy could hear Blair opening and shutting the cabinets and the refrigerator, checking each drawer and nook and cranny.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking,” Blair said and she continued. She wandered to the coffee table and peaked underneath. “I don’t know, Gordy,” she said. “I’ll check upstairs.”
“What are you looking for?” Lucy asked, her voice tense.
Blair walked into the downstairs bathroom. Her voice echoed out into the living area. “Did your father keep any of his viruses around the house?” She exited empty-handed. “His lab has been stripped clean.”
“I wouldn’t know about anything about that. But I doubt he’d bring a dangerous bio-weapon into our home…not with small kids running around,” Lucy sneered. She put her hands on her hips and tried to channel her mother.
Galen stood up and tried to stand tall, too. He lifted his head upward and looked up his nose at Gordy. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Go away.”
Blair stopped and looked at her brother. She shrugged and raised her eyebrows. Gordy turned to them and sighed. “Sit down, Lucy,” he said, and he motioned for the couch.
“No,” she replied. She stood firm.
“I’ll make this quick,” Gordy said. “You have five minutes to take what you need from this place and follow me and Blair to the lower deck. There’s a boat waiting to take you and your family to the shore. Five minutes and the clock is running.”
Lucy’s heart pounded. She glanced at her siblings, hoping they could help her understand.
“What?” she asked, confused. “I thought no one was supposed to leave...”
“No one is supposed to leave,” Gordy replied. “But my father intends to kill you. And Blair and I are convinced that your death and the death of your family is not in the best interest of our Islands. In the game of politics, today you’re the winner.”
“Wait,” Lucy stared straight at Gordy. “You’re only willing to spare us because it benefits you?”
Gordy smiled and shook his head. “You’ve spoken the truth of the world, Lucy. You’re young. When you’re older you will understand.”
“What if we refuse?” Galen interrupted. Lucy tried to hush him.
“You will die,” Blair said. She walked down into the living room and stood beside her brother. “We are not your enemy…we’re here to help you. This isn’t a trick.”
“This doesn’t make sense. Why not let us die? No one seemed to have any problems killing people before,” Lucy said to directly to Blair. Her voice had a bite to it, but Blair ignored the implications. Lucy looked to Gordy next. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked at his sister.
“I’ve already made it clear that my motive is selfish,” he replied. “Four minutes.”
“Selfish, how?” Lucy ignored the countdown.
“My father has certain things he cares about...chief among them is control. It’s more about knowing that he has managed his own world and less about understanding what we need for the Islands to survive. But you see, I care about this place and I intend to take control of Kymberlin...perhaps sooner than later. I don’t need a mutiny on my hands within the first week. Killing the King family in a public display…within the first month of its existence? It’s bad policy.”
“You have no sense of compassion,” Lucy said.
“No,” Gordy said matter-of-factly. “It has everything do to with the future and sanctity of this world. Killing you serves no purpose in the larger scheme of the Islands…showing you mercy and kindness will serve our purposes better. But you see, I’m not in charge yet. My father will still override my wishes and h
e will kill you.”
Galen and Lucy exchanged a look.
“How do I trust you?” Lucy asked.
“You can never trust another human being fully and without reservation. You can only hope that their needs match with your needs. In this case, we are aligned. You want to live…and I need you not to die. Escape is our mutual best interest.”
“People will ask where we’ve gone…”
Blair cleared her throat. “We will tell them that due to the circumstances of Scott King’s death and the explosion that took the lives of Ethan, Teddy, and Grant…that in your deep grief and mourning we thought it best to relocate you. To Copia.” She beamed, pleased with herself.
Galen looked confused and he started to ask a question, but Lucy stopped him. “And when people discover that Copia is a sham?” Lucy could see Galen’s mouth drop with surprise, but he didn’t say a word.
“They won’t,” Blair added. “Copia will succumb to a raging fire within the next four months. We already have footage and the pictures to prove this. Copia will disappear and the narrative of its demise will live…”
“All that work…”
“Will preserve a quality of life that is good and needed. You can’t convince people to live a life of beauty and simplicity without selling them the lie, first. That’s what no one has ever understood. If you want to better the world, if you want to make changes for the good, you can’t trust that people will see their inherent value and intrinsically desire change. People are stubborn. If you want to change the world, you just do it. You change it by power and by will. The people will catch up,” Gordy said. He looked out their large window to the dimming day. He sighed and shook his head. “Time is running out, Lucy. I can’t answer any more of your questions…”
“Did my father really jump?” Lucy crossed her arms in front of her body and waited for Gordy’s response. She felt so immediately unafraid of him and his family.
After a pause, Gordy nodded. “He was wounded. It was his last moment to exercise free will. Jump or fall. And he jumped, yes.”
“The explosion...”
“Jesus…” Blair whined and she stamped a foot in protest. “The guards will be back soon, Gordy. Lucy, please…”
But Gordy didn’t blink. He looked right at Lucy and took a breath. “The bodies were unrecoverable,” he answered slowly. Methodically. As if he knew. As if he were repeating the lie knowing that it was a lie. “Three minutes, Lucy. Or I will be unable to help you.”
“But you’ve admitted you’re only helping yourself,” she said. “Don’t spin it. If it didn’t matter what the public thought of our deaths, you wouldn’t be here.”
“We are creating a world where people can feel free and happy. Is that selfish? To want this place to succeed? To save you in an effort to save the Island from self-destruction? You see, Lucy, I actually care about this place. My father would rather crash everyone and everything into the sea than give up control. But I intend to see this through...my sister designed this place, the towers. It was Kymberlin’s idea. Don’t you understand? This was her dream, not his. This perverted government with a leader who uses force, that’s my dad….but she designed the buildings…the idea of sustainable energy, of a community where people could follow their dreams. It was an unattainable utopia that my father turned into an obsession.”
“An illusion,” Lucy whispered.
“It’s possible,” he responded. “I believe.”
She looked at Blair. “And you’re with Gordy on this?”
Blair looked to the ground. “We know my father. Sometimes you fight. And sometimes you run,” was all she said. “Let us save you. Once you leave, it becomes our war to fight, our battle and our battle alone.”
Lucy turned to Galen, and she was about to ask him what to do. If Blair and Gordy knew that the King family was alive, would they ever be free from the shadow of Kymberlin and the threat of discovery? She wanted to believe that Gordy would hide their disappearance from Huck. But what if it served himself to bring them back?
Would he hunt them down again?
She would leave if it meant she could be free of Kymberlin and the Trumans forever.
“How do I know that no one will find out what happened to us?” Lucy asked. “How do I know my family will be safe? I don’t want to still think about you twenty-years from now…I want to be live a life free of thinking about you…I want to be truly free.”
Gordy walked to Lucy. She stood tall before him, pulling her spine upward, tilting her chin in defiance.
“I am offering you a boat. And a small window of time. In return, you promise me that you will never come back here...ever. My father will think you are dead. Only Blair and I will ever know the truth. Over time people will forget you...don’t roll your eyes...it’s true. We will continue to grow our empire and let the earth heal, and you and your family will fade away. Ancient stories. A memory.”
“That’s not true,” Galen said. “People will wonder where we’ve gone.”
Gordy shook his head. “No. They won’t.”
“In one hundred years, you’ll be a myth,” Blair said. “A bedtime story. A cautionary tale. If you slip out in the darkness, you are dealt a kindness that we cannot give you otherwise...a chance to start over and let this place recover.”
“People forget,” Gordy added. “It’s nature’s kindest flaw.”
“It’s time,” Blair said. She walked to Lucy. “If you believe that the people here on Kymberlin will fight for you...you may not be wrong. But my father will fight for your destruction and win. The people don’t matter, Lucy. They never have—not with Huck. You can choose, but if you don’t take our out, we can’t guarantee your life or the lives of your siblings...”
Lucy nodded. “Stop. I understand. Give me a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute,” Gordy said.
“You’ll give me a minute,” she said, firmer this time. Lucy looked at Galen, “Get the kids. Pack some things. Only necessities and one artifact each.”
“Lucy—” Galen said.
“Do it,” she whispered and he rushed off, tense and understanding.
Turning her back to her visitors and her brother, she ran up the stairs and knocked on her mother’s door. When she opened it, her mother was awake, sitting against the bed on the floor. She stared at the wall. There was a single bulb burning from a lamp and its dim light cast long shadows against the wall. Lucy walked over and touched her mother’s arm. Maxine didn’t look at her. “Mom, we’re going. Right now. I need you to get up and come with me.”
“Going?” Maxine asked. She shook her head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Mom,” Lucy said, not trying to hide the panic in her voice. “Come with me. What do you want to take? Anything.” She rose and went to the dresser. The top was empty, bare. She opened up a drawer and there was nothing in there either. “What can I take for you?” she asked and turned.
“Lucy, I’m staying here. I will not run scared for my entire life. I made my choice to stay and I will stay. I owe it to your father to fight for what he wanted for us. I won’t cower to those fools...I will stand tall until the end.”
She watched as her mother stood and walked to the door and held it open. She wasn’t crying or yelling. Her eyes lacked brightness or awareness, but she stood firm and pointed to the hall. She was unwavering.
“Go, Lucy. You go.”
Lucy hesitated.
She could hear the voices of Monroe and Malcolm beneath the loft. Galen was corralling them, zipping them into coats, checking their backpacks. His voice carried to her.
“We have a long way to go, little one,” she heard him say. “You can pick one more thing to take. Your book? Okay. Let’s get your book.” He was a good big brother. He was a good friend.
“Your father died here. And this is where I wish to die. You can’t take that from me. Let me die, Lucy. Let me join him. Save the kids.” She pushed Lucy gently out into the hallway. And then Maxi
ne started to close the door. Lucy pushed back against the closing door and it banged against the wall. Then she reached in and grabbed her mother’s hand.
“You’re the strongest woman I know.”
“It’s a lie,” Maxine said without hesitation.
“It’s not.” Lucy pulled her mother gently into the hall and she resisted. “Dad’s sacrifice was in vain if you just sit here in this bedroom and wallow. We’ve been offered a chance out of this nightmare and we’re taking it. You hear me?” She waited, and when her mother didn’t answer, Lucy took another step forward. “Don’t make me say goodbye to you, Mom. Please. I’m leaving. We’re leaving. I made the choice and it’s my choice and we’re leaving Kymberlin right this instant. And I’m not leaving here without my mother. I can’t. So, you have a choice...you will pack a bag and come downstairs and help me with the kids. Those kids are not losing their mother and father in one day.”
Maxine lifted her eyebrows. She paused as if she were going to launch into one of her patented diatribes; when Maxine made up her mind, no one changed it. Lucy could see her mother slipping from her. Then Maxine smiled. Her face scrunched up and she tried to push away the tears; she smoothed down her bangs and cleared her throat. “What’s my choice?” Maxine asked in a shaky voice. “You said I had a choice and then only listed one option…”
“Mama Maxine staple parenting tactic,” Lucy replied. “I lied.” She held her head up high. “There is no choice.”
Maxine leaned in and pulled Lucy into a hug. She rested her head against her daughter and pushed their cheeks together. Then in a whisper, she said, “Well shit, Lucy Larkspur. That’s a pep talk I wasn’t expecting from you. Like a slap in the face. On the way out...maybe you can advise me on my financial future?”
The statement seemed incongruous and Lucy pulled back. “What?” she asked, confused, looking at her mother, whose dark eyes sparkled.
“Because I think you just did it. You got what you wanted. You grew up. In that moment…you grew up. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you sounded just like that Darla you talked about.”
The Virulent Chronicles Box Set Page 112