Waning Moon

by PJ Sharon

  Chapter 36

  Sam sat perfectly still, his brows furrowed, and his mouth drawn in a frown. “Did you know about Beth and Jackson?” I let my bangs drop forward, avoiding the hurt in his eyes. “Did you?”

  Two days had gone by and Sam was feeling better already. He sat up in bed, staring me down with those big brown eyes filled with emotion. I sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the quilted comforter, another reminder of Aunt Beth. My voice cracked as I fumbled my words.

  “I…no…” How could I answer this question? I’d considered the possibility, but it seemed too terrible a prospect to believe. I had dismissed every suspicion I’d ever had, and the more time that passed, the easier it had been to ignore the truth that my baby brother had killed my aunt and my cousin. “Zeph and I never talked about it, but I…wondered.”

  “I was never sure, myself, until now” he said, “but I suspected. Once I knew what he could do—knew what he was—I made a choice. I chose to forgive him. I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I didn’t know how to help him.” Sam took my hand in his. “It wasn’t your fault either, Lily. You have to believe that.”

  I couldn’t meet his gaze. My hair dipped over my brow. “He was my responsibility. I should have known.”

  “You were just a little girl. There was no way you could have known what he was capable of.” Sam‘s head fell back against the pillow as he stared out the window at the setting sun, nothing more than an orange glow through the trees. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone.” He released my hand, weakened by the strain of the conversation.

  I’d known my brother carried a sense of guilt that came with the darkness within him. I had always assumed it was his guilt over our mother’s death. I couldn’t let myself imagine a four-year-old boy could be responsible for killing people he cared for and who cared for him. I shook my head of the stampede of thoughts that had me feeling sick to my stomach. The fact that he had killed his aunt and his ten-year-old cousin was an awful truth that could never be undone. How had Zeph lived with this knowledge all these years?

  “Whatever he did, Sam, I can’t just let the Industry take him.”

  Sam lifted his gaze to me, a look of torment and confusion so pitiful, my heart wrenched at the sight. “Let him go, Lily. He doesn’t belong here.”

  “If he doesn’t belong here, neither do I.”

  “Don’t say that. You are nothing like your brother!”

  A hollow laugh escaped my lips, “One or two small changes in our DNA and this is what you have, Sam.” I held up my hands, scorched from the healing I’d done two days before, my palms blistered for the first time and healing slowly. I still didn’t know how my gift worked. Why sometimes I healed quickly from injury, while other times, after I’d used my ability to heal someone, my ability to heal myself slowed down.

  It made sense that my energy field would be depleted after pushing so much electromagnetic current through my body. It also made sense that Zeph would gain energy each time he used his gift. But what were the limits? Could using my ability too much cause me to become sick—maybe even kill me eventually? If left unchecked, could Zeph’s abilities grow to an all-consuming power that would destroy him and everyone around him? I couldn’t leave him to the Industry to be completely corrupted. There was no telling what he would become.

  “Zeph and I are two sides of the same coin, Sam. Neither of us knows what to do with this power. There’s been no one to help us understand it, to teach us, to train us to control it.”

  “But look at all the good you’ve done. You have helped so many people already. Look what you went through for me.” His eyes bore into mine with such affection and gratitude, my heart all but cracked. “I know I haven’t said this enough, but I am so very proud of you.” He took my hand and rested his lips on the back of my knuckles. “We’ll figure it all out, Monkey.”

  I pulled my hand away and rose to my feet. “Even if what you say is true, I still owe you an apology—probably several. I don’t deserve your forgiveness any more than Zeph does. But I’ll ask you for it, anyway—for both of us.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that you aren’t responsible for what your brother has done?”

  “Maybe not,” I said looking down into Sam’s eyes, my throat tight. “But I’m responsible for my part in bringing the Industry to our doorstep.”

  “What are you talking about?” He rested his haggard face into one hand.

  I’d waited for two days, trying to find the right words and hoping Sam was strong enough to hear the rest of the truth. I sighed, paced, and wrung my hands. Totally ready to take whatever he dished out by way of a lecture or reprimand, I finally turned to face him.

  “I’m the one who brought Will here. He was working for the Industry and I led him straight to our door. I shouldn’t have brought him here…I should have listened to you…If I had…”

  I finished explaining about how Agent Marx had found Will in a work camp and had freed him in return for his cooperation in tracking me and Zeph. I told him how they had used his father as bait and how the corruption in the Industry went all the way to the Vice President, if not to the President herself. I finished with the news that Marx had killed my dad.

  Sam listened intently. “You see now why none of them can be trusted.” He held his anger in check, too weak to go into a full-on rant. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He climbed slowly to his feet.

  “What are you doing? You can’t get out of bed. You need to rest…”

  He shook his head as if he was dizzy and reached for a nearby chair, falling into it as I grabbed him around the waist and helped lower him to sitting. “Will’s fault or not, it doesn’t much matter now. They won’t stop with your brother and Tyler. The Industry knows where we are. They will be back for you. We have to leave.”

  “You need to wait until you’re stronger.”

  He scratched at his chin, several days beard growth making him look rugged and hard edged. “Maybe so, but you are coming with me. I don’t want any argument.”

  He knew I’d been thinking about going after Zeph. I already had everything in place for a journey to the Western Desert, and I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else stop me. Will had been trying for two days straight.

  Sam and I talked a while longer with most of my time spent alternately defending Will, and begging to go after Zeph. Sam refused to listen to reason in either case. I’d avoided telling him that Will was staying in our barn, waiting for Sam to get well enough to face him.

  “I hope you left that traitor in Albany to rot!” Sam said finally, a glimmer of his old feisty growl shining through.

  “Um…not exactly.”