Текст книги "The Earth Dwellers"

Автор книги: David Estes

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

Chapter Forty-Two

Siena

Sadie’s alive, her horse too. She walks beside Gard and his son, Remy. Scant few Stormers survived the battle. Not that different’n the Tri-Tribes. Devastated by the Glassies.

There’re many more Soakers, on account of how late they arrived, but all that matters is that they came. None of us’d be standing here if not for ’em.

I’m still setting next to Circ when I see him. Huck. The Soaker boy who captured the attention of my younger sister, when she was a slave on one of his father’s ships.

I leap up, not ’cause I’m all excited to see him, though in some ways I am, but ’cause of Skye’s words earlier when she found out what he’d done to Jade, how he’d beaten her with a whip.

I’ll destroy him.

But I’m too slow, too late, ’cause Skye’s already spotted him and she’s running right at him. Still, I try to get in front of her, but a couple burly Soakers beat me to it. “Git outta my way,” Skye says.

“Skye,” I say, grabbing her arm. “Don’t.”

She pulls away from me, her eyes boring into mine for a moment ’fore darting back to the Soakers.

“It’s okay,” Huck says to his guards. “Let her through.”

Although they don’t look like they want to, the guards step aside, creating a gap. Huck pushes a wave of blond hair off his forehead. “Skye, Siena,” he says.

But Skye’s already pushing through the gap, bumping the guards as she passes by. She don’t hesitate, just pulls her fist back and cracks Huck in the jaw, rocking him back. The guards are on her, but she elbows one in the face and kicks t’other in the midsection.

“That’s for hurting my sister,” she says to Huck.

On the ground, Huck’s massaging his jaw. Skye extends a hand and he looks at it for a second before taking it. She pulls him to his feet. He stares at her, his arms sort of extended in front of him, as if they could ever protect him from the force that is my big sister. But she doesn’t hit him again. Instead, to my surprise, she grabs him ’round the back and hugs him tightly.

“And that’s for saving her, for saving us,” Skye says.

Tristan

With no one left upright to stop them, the Tri-Realm army has managed to drive two trucks through the gates, parking one between each set of double doors, leaving an open path into the city. The toxic air is surely spilling through, but I’m hoping a few hours won’t do any lasting damage.

“President,” a soldier says at the gate. “What are your orders?” he asks. I realize then that he’s a general from the Moon Realm.

“Get the word out to all the other generals. Sweep the city, but do not fire unless fired upon. Disarm and bind any soldiers who surrender. No more killing unless necessary.”

“Yessir.” He turns to go.

“Can I have a few of your soldiers?” I ask, stopping him.

“Shoe, Mags, Tilda,” he barks. Two women and a man step forward from the crowd of soldiers manning the gates.

“Come with me,” I say.

We climb over the trucks and into the city, the Dome arcing high above us. It’s just as bright inside as out, one of the benefits of using glass, I suppose. We’re on some kind of an army base. There’s what appears to be a medical building in front of us, barracks to the left. Several unused trucks parked to the right. But not a single soldier. The place is deserted; every last soldier was sent into battle.

But where’s their ultimate leader? Where’s Lecter?

I stride across the stone courtyard, my protection unit flanking me. A high metal fence surrounds the complex, a closed gate at the center. Together we push it open.

Buildings grow like trees around us, glass running up their sides. Like the military base, the streets are empty. I remember the alarm. Warning everyone to get and stay inside. Thank God for that, I think. At least the innocents are safe.

Nothing here is new to me, because of when my father brought my family on a tour of the New City, but the three soldiers’ heads are roving like searchlights, taking it all in.

The city is spotless, just like I remember it.

Is she here? Is Adele here?

Then I see her. I gasp, because it’s not her, not really. Just her face, stone cold and unsmiling on a screen on the outside of one of the buildings. “Wanted,” it says in big block letters above her head. “Reward for information.”

Lecter’s discovered her. He’s got the whole city on the lookout. The only comfort I have is that if she’s still on the screen then perhaps they haven’t found her yet.

We march down a street, scan the vacant cross streets at the intersection, continue on.

I can’t stop, have to keep looking.

I won’t stop until I find her.

Adele

We exit Lecter’s home through the shattered windows along the curving hallway. I’ve got three guns tucked in my waistband. Mine, Jocelyn’s, and Lecter’s.

Jocelyn’s holding my hand, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.

Neither of us speaks. There’s nothing left to say.

We walk past the vacated guard station. The city is quiet for this time of day. The alarms did their job well. The citizens of this city know how to follow orders.

I can only see the parts of the Dome that rise above the buildings; the edges are lost behind the hundreds of structures lining the streets. Somewhere out there is a battle. Did Lecter’s final order result in another massacre, the end of another tribe? The end of him, the son of the woman whose hand is gripping mine so tightly it’s starting to hurt?

Without discussing it, we both head in the same direction, down a lettered street, making our way to whatever numbered one will take us to the main gates. Where, soldiers or no soldiers, we both know we have to go. We’ll shoot our way out if we have to. I don’t think either of us can take one more minute in this damned spotless city…

We both stop at the same time when we see people. Crossing an intersection two blocks up. Stopping in the middle. Turning away from us, then back toward us. And when they do…

Jocelyn sighs, making a high-pitched sound from the back of her throat. And I realize I’m making a similar sound, because…

It’s him.

It’s Tristan.

Tristan

I turn and my chest fills with air when I see Adele. But no, it’s not just her—there’s a woman too. No.

No.

Impossible.

My skin tingles and warmth roars through me and my feet are so fast, far faster than those around me.

I run toward my mother, blinking furiously at the tears in my eyes.

Adele

I just watch them run at each other, though I desperately want to run too. But I can’t be selfish. My time is later and nothing in the world can trump a reunion of a lost mother and son.

They smash into each other and Tristan whirls her around and I’d bet anything he wasn’t big enough to do that the last time they saw each other. Jocelyn is crying and planting kisses on his face and Tristan’s face is peeking around her, his eyes full of shock and joy.

And he’s crying the happiest, most wonderful tears.

When they finally pull apart, Tristan leads her over to me, hand in hand.

His smile is as beautiful and bright as the first time I saw him. At the parade. From behind the prison’s electrified fence. But this time it’s real. So real.

He puts an arm around my head, tugging my face toward his. And his lips part and meet mine, warm and full and comforting.

“She saved me,” I gasp when our lips unlock. “She saved us all.”

Tristan looks at his mother with admiration, and I won’t tell him anything else. Jocelyn can tell him as much as she wants to when the time is right.

Epilogue

Somewhere beyond…

Dazz

The Earth is unfolded before me like a map, crisp and sharp and vibrant. It’s strange, I can see everything so clearly, almost like I’m still there, and yet it feels distant, worlds away, impossible to touch.

I’m ripped in half.

One part of me is curling the biggest icin’ smile across my lips, so wide and filled with giddiness that I almost feel ready to explode with happiness.

But the other part of me is squeezing my heart, filling me with the ache of desperate longing, sending rivers of sadness down my cheeks.

When I died, I lost more than my life.

I can’t be sad, though. Not really. It would be too selfish. Because they did it. They freezin’ did it, and though I wasn’t there to be a part of it, I know I was with them in different ways, living in the place it mattered the most: their hearts. And Jolie and Mother and Buff were there too. Even good ol’ Abe and Hightower were rooting for them to defeat the Glassies, standing next to me, watching from…well, from wherever we are. Somewhere beyond.

Somewhere beyond the pain and the hopelessness and the despair of a world torn into little bits so small and bent that I was starting to wonder whether there was any possibility of putting them back together again.

But when Lecter (the Yag!) fell and his army collapsed, a cheer went up, so loud that the misty haze surrounding us turned blue for just a moment, before returning to its normal color, a white so pure it’s like snow. Familiar. That’s the word for it. Although it’s not cold anymore, this place feels like home, in a strange way. A good way.

Even as I stare down at Skye, who’s safe and alive and as beautiful as ever, I know it’s better this way. I get to be with my family, and she with hers. And I know that one day—hopefully not anytime soon though—I’ll get to be with her again.

I finally turn away from the Earth and a hand reaches out to wipe away my tears. “Thank you, Brother,” I say. “But don’t let Buff see you coddling me like that, he’ll never let us live it down.”

Wes laughs and it’s the most brilliant sound I’ve ever heard, because I’ll never have to miss my brother’s laugh again. “Then quit crying,” he says. “There’s nothing left to cry about.”

And though I know he’s right, the tears keep falling, spilling from eyes overflowing, even as Jolie emerges from the mist holding Wilde’s hand on one side and Mother’s on the other. Her smile is as bright and welcoming as the sun over fire country. She’s happy, so happy.

I never imagined I’d find so much life in death.

Buff and Feve appear next, laughing and telling stories. I have a feeling they’re going to become good friends.

“Come. Look,” I say, gesturing at the world that’s no longer ours.

And they do, crowding around, more and more Icers and Heaters and Stormers and Soakers and Dwellers surrounding the portal, gazing at our old friends. Our people united.

They’re okay and so are we and nothing will ever change that again.

New Wildetown

Sadie

This is a strange, strange land.

For one, it’s boiling hot all the time, even when the sun goes down. Secondly, I haven’t felt a drop of rain since setting foot in fire country. Storm country feels like it’s millions of miles away.

Although my heart yearns for the cool ocean breeze, familiar storms, and lush, flat plains of storm country, I’m content to stay here for a few more days. After all, I don’t know when we’ll get the chance to see our unexpected friends again, and I’ve grown closer to Siena and Skye than I ever thought possible. Remy seems to be getting on well with Circ and Hawk and a few of the other guys, too.

But I know that whenever we do leave, it won’t be forever. Already Gard’s been discussing a potential trade agreement with the Tri-Tribe leaders, one that will ensure our friendship and joint preservation for years into the future. Remy and I have already agreed to visit at least once a year, preferably when it’s slightly less hot.

Remy puts his arm around me and I’m tempted to lean into it, but I’m not that girl. Not yet anyway. Maybe someday I will be, when I’m old and decrepit and walking with a stick to support me.

Instead, I squirm away and wrap my arm around him, tucking him against me. It makes me even warmer, but it’s worth it to see the amused look on his face. “One day, when you least expect it, you’ll let me protect you,” he says.

“I know,” I say. “But for that to happen I’ll have to be lying unconscious with both legs broken.”

He laughs and just lets me hold him, and I’m glad he’s not too proud to let me do that.

While the embers glow and my head touches Remy’s and I look at the moon-brightened night sky, I see my mother and father and brother, Paw, smiling from somewhere else, somewhere that’s not as far away as I always thought.

And I smile right back.

New Wildetown

Huck

Being here seems impossible.

Not two days ago I was arguing with the other captains, who were about as fun to talk to as a pile of rocks. I never thought I’d convince any of them to come, much less a full quarter of the sailors. And yet now I’m here, in fire country, three of the fleet’s ships anchored to the south, just off the red cliffs. The battle was brutal and devastating—so many dead—but necessary work to defeat a tyrant, just like my father.

And the most amazing thing: I’m holding the hand of the girl who owns half of my heart. The other half belongs to the Deep Blue.

To this point in my fourteen yars of life, I’ve never been able to see my future a day ahead; but now, with the warmth of Jade’s hand tucked into my palm, I can see yars and yars, a whole lifetime worth living. With her.

My only concerns are the muscles and fists and swords and bows and arrows of Skye and Siena, both of whom seem intent on staring at me with dark eyes for the entire night. But when Jade looks up at me with her intense brown eyes, the ones that, not long ago, were so mysterious to me, everything else fades away and I’m alone with her.

And she moves closer and her lips are so small and perfect and wearing just the tiniest grin, which makes me smile and almost laugh, even as the fishlets are swimming and squirming through my stomach.

We kiss and everything’s right.

I know people are watching but I couldn’t care less.

I might kiss her for the rest of time.

New Wildetown

Siena

Jade and Huck are still kissing each other, and now even I have half a mind to knock him back to yesterday. She’s still just a child, after all. But I know that’s not entirely true anymore, ’cause she’s grown up just like the rest of us have, and her guy’s fought in two battles now and that should count for something in terms of his manhood. Plus, he managed to convince a quarter of his fleet to sail ’round the southern cliffs of fire country in order to help us. Seems only a man could do something like that.

So I just look away and lean into a kiss of my own from Circ.

“What was that for?” Circ asks. It doesn’t sound like a complaint, just a curiosity.

“’Cause I can,” I say.

He shrugs and gives me another peck.

Next to Circ, Lara and Hawk are arguing ’bout something, but they’re holding hands, too, which I just can’t get over. Who woulda thought? And yet, they seem like a perfect pair. Wooloo how the world spins and flips and changes faster’n Perry shouts insults at clutzy skinny girls in the desert.

The moon goddess is shining tonight, and she’s so bright I know that Wilde’s in there with her, watching over us, even now. We held a ceremony for her and Feve and all the rest who didn’t make it. I gave Feve’s wife and his kids a big hug each, and we cried t’gether. I’ll never fully get over my friends’ deaths, but Skye and me cut our fingers open and made a blood oath to be happy in honor of ’em. Then we smiled through the hurt and the pain and the tears staining our cheeks.

I talked to Veeva afterward, when I could tear her away from Grunt, who’s hobbling ’round, milking his injury for all it’s worth. But I won’t dare call him a shanker—never again. Veeva thanked me for saving his life, but I told her he saved mine. You couldn’t imagine the pride in her eyes. “That’s my stallion,” she said. They’ve been in their tent ever since, and I’m doing my best not to guess what they’re doing in there.

Tristan, who followed through on his promise to return with an army, helped us get the people with small injuries back to New Wildetown. We rode in the Glassies’ own fire chariots to do it, how ’bout that? The seriously injured are being fixed up inside the Glass City, something ’bout their Healers being better’n ours. We pray for ’em every night to the goddesses in the sky.

The Stormers and Soakers are staying with us for a while, in our camp. They sent Riders back to water and storm country to tell ’em what happened and ease their fears. Across the fire from me, Sadie’s got her arm ’round Remy, looking up at the star-speckled sky. Even now that the war’s over, she’s always got to be in control. It only makes me like her that much more.

I don’t know what’s gonna happen with Adele and Tristan and all t’others who live underground, but I’m not worried ’bout it anymore, ’cause they seem to have things pretty much under control. Finally—finally!—I just wanna live my life, be with Circ and my family and friends. Honor those who died for us…by being happy.

And if anyone like my father or King Goff or Admiral Jones or President Lecter ever try to put on their big boy britches and knock us ’round again, well, I s’pose I’ll fight for our freedom one more time. Or as many times as it takes. ’Cause I ain’t afraid of nothing anymore.

Circ sighs as I run a hand through his thick hair. I knock a knee against his and he pushes back. Just like old times, so long ago and yet only a moment out of reach.

“I love you, Siena,” he says.

And for the first time ever, I know why he does. ’Cause I say the wrong things sometimes and trip over my feet and shoot pointers like an expert and kiss mighty searin’ good and am braver’n most. ’Cause I’m me, an imperfect part of a perfect pair.

Circ and me.

Me and Circ.

Surrounded by our families, by the ones we love.

Unity (the city previously known as the New City or Glass City)

Tristan

I’ve got the weight of a crumbling world on my shoulders, and yet I feel lighter than the birds soaring over the glass dome, which is once more sealed tight at the gate and providing filtered air to all who reside within its bounds.

I’ve got a million things on my mind, and more than a million people, but I’m spending today with my family and friends. A day off. Adele will join me later; she said she had something important to do.

My mother is sitting beside me, gazing at the birds high above, just like me.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to live out there?” she asks the birds.

I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe this great earth will heal itself eventually, but at least for now we can live above.”

“I don’t think I want to,” she says quickly.

I look at her but she holds her gaze far past the Dome, on the sky and the birds wheeling overhead, playing on the wind.

Something happened to her. Something bad. She’s not the same person that she was. Slow to laughter, heaviness in her eyes. Every time I ask Adele about what happened, she tells me everything except about my mother. If I want to know those parts I have to ask her, she says. I haven’t, and Mother hasn’t exactly volunteered the information. Maybe someday…

“Where will you go?” I ask.

Finally, her expression lightens. “The Realm,” she says.

I smile at the name, one of the many good decisions the Unity Council has made since its creation. No more “Tri.” No more “Sun, Moon, and Stars.” Everyone equal, living where they choose to live. In all honesty, the cramped caverns of the old Star Realm will likely be abandoned, possibly the old Moon Realm caverns too.

It all depends on how many citizens decide to come above, which was another awesome decision made by Unity, a unanimous vote. All humankind gets to choose where they live, whether underground or above, in the air-filtered glass dome, or outside.

Sun dweller scientists are already analyzing the air, trying to figure out what’s wrong with it, something that should have been done by Lecter. So far they’ve found at least six toxins that are deadly to humans over time. We’ll monitor them over the course of years to determine whether the levels are on the decline or consistent. Whether we’ll ever be able to live long lives outside of our domed city. Maybe someday our children, or our children’s children, can live like people used to, free to roam and inhabit the earth.

We’ve also abolished all the major systems put in place by Lecter in the New City, which has been renamed Unity. The first major human city on the face of the earth since Year Zero. Those living in Unity will be able to choose their jobs, what to eat, and where to live.

Because there’s not enough space in the city for the millions from the Realm that are expected to choose to come above, plans are being made to create additional cities, but only if we get the approval of the tribes that live on the lands we want to build them on. It’s not our world to take; it’s our world to share. And we’re the party crashers, so we have to play by their rules.

However, I fully expect Gard and Huck to approve our plans for a city on the eastern coastline of storm country, and the Tri-Tribes’ leaders to allow us to build at least one more city in fire country. As for ice country, we’ll be building a large memorial for the lost Icer tribe. It will stand for centuries to come as a reminder of the stupidity and tragedy of greed and intolerance. We can’t change the past, but we can remember it so we don’t screw up the future.

There are also early discussions about the potential to help the tribes build mini-domes over their villages, but only if they want them. Living in filtered air even part of the time could extend their lifespans by decades. But that’s a choice they’ll have to make. Of course, they’ll also have the opportunity to move into our cities if they want. Either way, we’ll respect their decisions and ensure they’re involved in ours wherever they affect them.

It’s all part of the New Constitution, which dissolved any forms of dictatorship and sustained the new council. The people will finally get their voice back.

“I’ll miss you,” I say, “but I’ll visit all the time.” I’m staying above, with Adele, a decision that was all too easy to make. We’ve both gotten too used to the real sun, and I have a feeling we’ll become good friends with our new acquaintances to the west.

She smiles, and though it’s not the full, eye-reaching smile I remember from the woman who used to read to Roc and I against the big tree in the palace gardens, it’s a start. “You’d better,” she says, putting an arm around me.

For just a minute, I lean in, a child in a man’s body, allowing myself to be held by the woman whose bold and creative decision so long ago played a major role in shaping the world for the better. She had a vision, and I was but a tool in her loving hands.

My mother, my hero. From the look in Adele’s eyes when she refuses to talk about what my mother did, I can tell she feels the same way.

“Hard at work, as usual,” a voice says from behind. “Or is it hardly working?”

“It’s my first break in days,” I say without turning around.

Roc comes around the front of the bench we’re sitting on. He’s holding Tawni’s hand and looking rather smug. “A few more days like this and my rise to the top of the Unity Council will be like taking candy from a spoiled prince,” he says.

My mother stands and hugs Roc, who kisses her on the cheek, sending warmth through my veins. She might’ve lost a son, but she got two back, even if one isn’t connected to her by blood.

“You can have this spoiled prince’s job anytime you want it,” I say. Joking aside, I was equal parts surprised and happy when Roc ran for a spot on the hundred-member Council. I was even happier when he got it. I might be the moderator for the meetings, but his vote counts every bit as much as mine. Although I’ve always considered him my equal—even when he was supposed to be my servant—it’s gratifying for the rest of the world to feel the same way.

As my mother hugs Tawni—who she’s taken a particular liking to—Roc says, “I don’t want your charity, Tristy.” He sits next to me on the bench and rests a hand on my shoulder. “Nor do I really want your job. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked me to.”

Damn Roc, always jumping from joking to saying stuff like that. I turn my head and try to discretely rub the mist out of my eyes, but he’s already laughing. “Cry baby,” he says.

I may be the moderator of the Unity Council and a former president of an entire underground nation, but I can still shed a happy tear or two for those I love.

This world is far from perfect, and it always will be, but with people like Roc and Tawni and Adele and my mother in it, life will always be well worth the struggle.

Unity

Adele

It’s strange to ride the elevator back up to a place I thought I might never see again. When I step out into the hallway, I can’t hold back my smile. Because where there used to be gleaming, sterile, white walls, there are now beautiful, colorful paintings of the world outside the Dome. A lizard—or ’zard as our fire country friends like to call them—bakes in the sun on a sandy dune; a forest-covered mountain rises almost to the ceiling; a ship crashes against a white-capped wave, sea spray spouting up and looking so real it’s like I’m in the midst of it all. Vibrant colors and life and change.

The wall paintings are all part of a movement to add color to a place that desperately needs it. The movement, appropriately called “Color Me Up,” is burning through the city like wildfire.

I stroll down the hall, admiring each painting, until I reach my destination. A blue door that used to be white. A smile spreads across my face as I lift my fist to knock.

The door opens just as I try to crack my knuckles against it, and I almost punch Lin in the face.

“Is that how you treat all your old friends?” she asks, grinning.

“Only my favorites,” I say.

I give her a hug, favoring my injured arm, and she accepts it, but pulls away quickly. Hugging’s not really her thing. “C’mon in,” she says. “It’s about time you visited.”

“Sorry,” I say, stepping inside the narrow apartment, now splashed with yellow walls and a red countertop. “Life of a councilmember’s girlfriend. Hey, I like the new décor.”

“Hey, kid,” Avery says, looking up from where he’s hunched over the small table. It’s painted red, too. “You like the colors? They are my creations. I’ve become something of a paint mixer since you took down Lecter. Well, at least after I got out of prison.”

I cringe. “Sorry you had to go through that,” I say. “You too, Lin.” One of the first things I did after Tristan told me the war had been won, was to go to the jail and release all the prisoners, including my two friends and the old man who’s apartment I borrowed while he was imprisoned. Lin’s still got a jagged scar just below her eye from being tortured, and Avery’s nose is a little crooked, having been broken.

Lin grins, like the memory is one of her favorites. “No biggie,” she says. “There aren’t many people who’ve got ‘Was tortured for information but didn’t tell them a damn thing’ on their list of life accomplishments.”

I laugh because only she’d be able to put such a positive spin on a horrific experience, wearing it like a badge of honor.

“You feel the same way, Avery?” I ask.

“She’s one of a kind,” is all he says, but there’s pride in his voice. “You’re just in time for some food.”

I groan. “Is it green, brown, and yellow rectangles?”

“Blech,” Lin says, “I hope I never see rectangle-shaped food again.”

Avery hands me a plate. “No, I call this earth dweller/fire country fusion cuisine. Or to the layman, eggs and prickler.”

I stare at the fluffy white-and-yellow, green-flecked clouds on my plate. It doesn’t look half bad. I take a tentative bite. “Mmm,” I murmur. “This is awesome.”

“Glad you like it,” Avery says. “I’ve managed to transform this minimalist place into a half-decent kitchen. Apparently cooking and painting are more my skillset than street cleaning.”

“He painted the hallway, too,” Lin says, talking with her mouth full.

“You’re kidding me?” I say. “It’s breathtaking. You’ve got real talent.”

Avery shrugs. “Who knew? I’ve been asked to do some other walls around the city.”

I take another bite of deliciousness and sigh. I’m not sure what I’m good at other than punching, kicking, and assassinating maniacal dictators, but I can’t wait to find out.

~~~

The sun is past its peak when I leave Avery and Lin’s place with a promise to see them more often. “And bring Tristan with you next time,” Lin says on my way out the door.

I stroll through the city, which is still shockingly clean and litter-free. Lecter didn’t do much right, but keeping the city free of trash was one thing I agreed with.

Left turn, right turn, another left: the new park comes into view. Children are running and playing and I spot Elsey, not because of the unbalanced way she runs now—which, amazingly, doesn’t seem to slow her down one iota—nor because she’s the only kid with one arm, but because she’s wearing the biggest smile of anyone. She tags a dark-skinned boy and then runs away laughing as he darts after her.

My mother’s sitting nearby, alone, away from the other parents, her broken arm in a sling. I’m not sure whether everything she’s experienced in her lifetime will ever allow her to fit in with everyone else, but that’s something I love about her.

She gives me a raised-eyebrow smirk when I plop down beside her. “Did you get to see Lin?” she asks.

I nod. “She asked about you like twenty-four thousand times,” I say. “I’m pretty sure she wants to be you.”

“She’s a strong girl,” she says without so much as blushing at the compliment. That’s another thing I love about my mother: she knows she’s strong and she’s not afraid of that fact. “You are too,” she adds, and I do blush, warmth creeping into my cheeks. I guess being like my mother is still too new for me to fully understand it.

“Elsey looks happy,” I say, watching her legs—which seem to grow longer each day—easily carry her away from the boy who’s “it,” until he gives up in search of slower prey.

“She’s never let the world scar her the way other people do,” she says. She’s right, which is what makes my sister so special, because even though she wears a terribly real physical scar from the atrocities of life, inside she’s pure and unmarked. Am I scarred? Is my mother? Will any of us ever be as pure as Elsey again? I hope so.