Текст книги "The Wanted"

Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

ROSA

The world wants a piece of me, I know. But until I have my son in my arms, it’s like tugging on a curl of steam.

I’m insubstantial.

Ineffectual.

Three pieces out of four.

The white rays of a cold dawn piercing the thin curtains of the bedroom shed unwelcome light on our situation.

So much confusion. So much to do.

I stretched out and the cold, empty place beside me sent a shot of fear through my body. My hand wavered over the cool sheets and for a second, I thought I was back in the Superiors’ compound, but then I heard Joseph in the lounge, talking to Rosa-May. I padded out of the bedroom, but hung back, resting against the peeling hall, and listened to their conversation.

“So you don’t like toast?” Joseph squatted down with his back to me, hanging his arms over couch. Rosa-May shook her head, gazing at the floor. “What about toast with…” He got up, moving out of my sight to the kitchen cupboards. Jars clunked against each other, boxes scuffed the shelves. “I know. Toast with detergent?”

Rosa-May perched on the back of the dusty pink couch like a monkey ready to jump, her watchful eyes twinkling but her lips set in distrust. She shook her head, her mouth tugging into a very brief smile.

“No. Okay, what about toast with…” He shook a box. “Dried pasta? With drawing pins? Ouch, that’d hurt. Um… sardines?” With each ridiculous suggestion, her face relaxed a little more, her smile growing as she watched him dance around the small kitchen.

She lifted her hand and pointed. “Jam.”

“Jam. Really? Well, it seems a little unorthodox, but jam it is,” Joseph said as I pulled around the corner and met his eyes. His gaze dropped to my bare feet, his fingers flexing at his sides, a jar of strawberry jam in one hand. He seemed to check himself, cracking his neck to one side, and then took a deep breath. Stepping towards me awkwardly, he swept me into his arms and held me close. He breathed in my hair as if he were memorizing me, saving me, like I would disappear. I felt bendy and squeezed of air in his arms, but happy.

The jam jar knocked the back of my skull with a light clunk. I felt Rosa-May’s eyes on us. “Ouch!” I exclaimed, though it didn’t really hurt, and he broke our embrace, leaving me wobbly and rubbery, liable to bend to the ground.

“Sorry if I woke you,” he said, his eyes running over my body slowly. I couldn’t quite work out what he was doing. Or thinking.

“You didn’t,” I replied politely. In agony. Rosa-May clambered over the back of the couch and ran to my side, wrapping her arms around my legs like a vice. I bent down and smoothed her hair, feeling a grief-coated lump rising in my throat.

Joseph’s eyes were sadness rounded with distress when he caught my expression.

“What can I do? I don’t know what to do,” he said, expelling the thought desperately, without meaning to.

I wiped my eyes before my sister could see my tears and we both looked up at Joseph, our faces two halves pressed together, two parts of a whole.

His smile was a clash between guilt and love.

“God! She looks so much like you. She’s beautiful.” He kneeled down and tucked his large finger under her chin. “You’re beautiful, Miss Rosa-May.” The ‘Miss’ sent me tumbling towards a dark tunnel, but I braced myself against the sides.

She narrowed her eyes for a second, like she was sizing him up, and then she barked, “Toast.” Like that, she pulled me back from the edge as we all laughed, truly laughed.

Joseph turned to make breakfast, and we discussed what we needed to do next.

We needed to find Gus and Matthew.

We needed to leave Pau and get Orry.

We stepped from the thin home and into a grey dawn. I tripped and stopped to roll up the long legs of the pants Joseph’s friend Elise had lent me. The shirt she gave me hung over my hands and the boots were two sizes too big, but it was so much better than the torn dress I’d been wearing. Joseph waited, his eyes out over the fuzzy sky, his mouth pulled down.

I knocked his arm to startle him back to the present. “You still asleep or something?”

He dipped his chin to me and forced a smile. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.” I smirked, and he sighed like he’d just expelled a large ghost from his chest. The sigh flapped around me and I pulled my grey jacket tighter around my middle, hoisting Rosa-May onto my hip.

Last night, we’d left everyone to sleep, to rest. This morning’s light showed a world turned upside down. All the Survivors inside the walls, and most of Pau Brazil milling around outside, completely lost.

Matthew appeared from the mist, striding down the dreary street, his face etched in tired lines of worry and held up with purpose. I waved him over.

“Oh good, you’re up. We’re meeting outside to discuss our next move. Joseph, I believe your parents are waiting for you out there too.” His smile was wary.

Joseph tensed at the mention of his parents. Their reunion last night had been joyful but brief with Joseph making excuses and whisking me away before much could be said. I think he was happy to see them, but I also understood his reluctance. We were not the same people who left here two and a half years ago.

Matthew turned, expecting us to follow.

“Where’s Gus?” I asked, running to walk beside him.

“Hunting,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice.

We parted the mist and climbed the crest of blown-apart concrete. The view shocked us to a standstill. Thousands of people huddled in small groups, spread out below us like a herd that had lost its alpha.

I gasped.

Matthew heard me. “Yes. It’s quite a sight.”

We moved to the left, hitting the grass and walked towards the chopper. Matthew gestured to Gus, who was squatting by the wall, knife in one hand, the other pressed to the ground.

“What is he hunting exactly?” I asked both of them.

“That little man that went underground, I guess,” Joseph answered.

Matthew nodded. “He has to surface eventually.”

“Oh,” was all I managed before I was swept into a tight embrace yet again.

I thought we’d done all this last night: The hugs, the kisses, and the happy reunions, which lacked happiness. But Rash had me off the ground, with Rosa-May still in my arms, before I could stop him.

We teetered together.

“In the cold light of morning, your hair really does look like shit,” he joked as he planted me back in the grass. His eyes darted to Joseph, who shook his head.

“I know,” I said, attempting to tuck it back and losing.

Joseph marked my side. “Considering everything she’s been through, actually, despite any of that, I think she looks incredible.”

Rash scowled. “Enough with the sappy romantic crap dude, I just ate,” he said, holding his stomach and pretend-retching. Rosa-May giggled as I scowled at him.

Rash winked and pinched her cheek. She smacked at him with tiny fists.

“Whoa! Got your sister’s temper I see, mini-Rosa.”

Joseph loomed over Rash. “Don’t call her that,” he threatened.

I waved them both off. “Calm down you two.” Their interaction was strange and left an icy, acid feeling in my stomach. I left them exchanging frigid stares and peered over Rash’s shoulder to see Pelo and Joseph’s parents talking seriously. I’d forgotten they knew each other. The image of a parent-teacher conference hovered like a bubble over their heads. When Pelo noticed me, he broke his conversation and strode over, the sun spilling through the frosted leaves and dancing off his dark hair.

“How are you, my girl?” he asked, bending down to peer into my eyes like they somehow held the answers more than my mouth could. Rosa-May pushed his face back from mine protectively with her chubby fingers. Pelo’s eyes were strained, his mouth fighting to turn down, despite his best efforts.

“I’m fine. I’m good actually.” Today, I was going to get my son and the dark blades of the chopper loomed with promise. “What about you?” I asked. Joseph’s arm crept over my shoulder and grounded me.

“I have no right to be as sad as I am. You,” he poked my chest and I stumbled back, “you have all the right, all the permission, to drown in your grief, yet here you are, stronger than ever.” So many pages of lies piled on top of each other they were as thick as a textbook.

I ran my fingers along the side of the craft. “Do we have the pilot?” I asked, changing the subject.

Pelo nodded, for once understanding that now was not the time.

Deshi approached us exclaiming, “Remarkable. She looks just like you, Rosa.” His expression was tired but cheerful. He held out his hand to Rosa-May, who inspected it and passed it back with a brief grin. She hadn’t said anything except ‘Toast,’ and ‘Jam,’ since yesterday, and it worried me. I pressed my cheek to hers. It was very cold.

“So you’re thinking what I was thinking, then?” Deshi continued. “This would be perfect.” He slapped the black plastic and the whole craft wobbled, distorting the reflection of the forest that called to me.

Jonathan appeared, inserting himself easily into the conversation. “Is it safe?”

I almost laughed in his face. Nothing was safe. I didn’t know what safe was.

Joseph spoke through tight lips, standing behind me like a solid wall. “I’m sure it’s fine, Dad.” Jonathan slapped a reassuring hand on Joseph’s back and chuckled.

He was about to say something when Matthew cleared his throat and called us to him. The Survivors pressed their backs into the trees, like me. It was reassuring. A reminder of home.

“We need to make a plan going forward. We have thousands of people here looking for guidance, support. We also have an unknown number who have fled into the forest. I know the original plan was to move onto the next town, but that seems impossible now. After the information Rosa and Gwen have given us about the new Superior Grant and after…” he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, grey strands belying unease, “after Olga, we have to assume that they will anticipate our planned moves and may retaliate against the people in the remaining four towns. I can’t see any other option other than to abandon our plans for the other towns. We need to help these people now. We need a Woodlands’ liaison and a spokesperson for the Survivors.”

Scrabbling feet and muffled breathing.

Gus pulled the small man with the silver case by the collar, holding him off the ground like a kill to be skinned. The little man fought listlessly against Gus’ firm grip for a moment, before his head sunk below his shoulders. Some people turned his way in disgust, but most ignored his presence.

“I move that we stay put. Organize ourselves. Recruit and assist the citizens of Pau Brazil. I truly feel we shouldn’t risk anymore lives,” Matthew finished.

“Rosa would rock it!” Gwen shouted enthusiastically. Alarmed, I found her face and shook my head at her hopeful, dimpled expression. “…or not…” she muttered. I rolled my eyes to the sky, wondering whether she had just said that to get out of it herself. The clouds were streaked, combed up like a wave threatening to crash down over us, and it seemed fitting to our enormous task.

There was little discussion. A few murmurs. But everyone seemed to agree that I was a good spokesperson. Matthew invited Joseph and me to the front. I placed Rosa-May gently on the grass, the wet blades darkening her tights with moisture. I opened my mouth to speak and Jonathan interrupted me, both he and Pelo pushing their way to the front.

“Don’t you think these kids have been through enough?” Jonathan said, his voice secure. “It’s too much. Too much responsibility to place on such young shoulders.”

Stephanie “Mmhm-ed” in agreement, her body swaying as if she were a wispy, willow tree in the breeze, her branches clasped neatly in front of her.

“Wow,” I said before I could stop myself. Jonathan was being the parent in this situation, and it didn’t fit. It was too late for permission slips and groundings. I looked out on the concrete walls blown apart, the scattered souls unanchored, and considered it. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could hand over our troubles, our burdens to them? Could I just stop being the adult now? The temptation was there, wafting thinly in front of my eyes, teasing me. I blew it from my vision. Our childhoods were over. And I was okay with pressing my lips to that shred of time and kissing it goodbye. The arms wrapped around my legs, and the arms reaching for me from the mountains, made the choice not a choice. My task was to give Orry and Rosa-May some of what I’d had, and most of what I’d never had—a good childhood.

I blinked a few times at the expectant eyes before me, wondering why they even listened to me, and said, “I can’t agree with Jonathan. For better or worse, sadly, we’re not kids anymore. But there are other reasons why I’m not the best person for the job. Though, that’s not why I can’t accept your nomination.” In the crowd, a pair of green eyes framed with short, pale blond hair crinkled at my words. Elise smiled, and I smiled back warily.

“I can’t do anything. I can’t be anything useful until I have my son. If you don’t need the chopper, I would like to request it and the pilot to retrieve Orry, Hessa, and the others. I promise, when I return, I’ll help you as much as I can. In the meantime, I nominate Jonathan and Pelo.” They would do a much better job than I would. I was not the one to put faith in. I was like two smashed plates. Broken and mixed together so much that I didn’t know which piece went where or even where to start.

Joseph’s hand wound around mine, and it lifted me a little. His hand shook in mine, my hand shook in his, our balance unsteady. But I gripped it tightly anyway.

Elise swept her delicate hand in the air and Joseph sucked in a breath before she said, “Aren’t we forgetting what an asset this helicopter could be? We could fly over the Superiors’ compound and blow them all to hell!” He exhaled, relieved.

Gus stomped his foot. It didn’t make much noise in the damp ground, but his anger pulled everyone’s focus to his words. “No more! No more death. If there is to be more fighting, it will not start with us. The only way forward is negotiation.” The Survivors bowed their heads in agreement.

Elise shut her mouth with a snap, and I felt bad for her. She was new. I got that.

It was a simple decision, which I knew they would support. They were as anxious to see the boys as we were. If we could convince the pilot to fly us, we could go.

“Where’s the pilot?” Joseph shouted. Someone pointed.

Deshi, Joseph, and I walked around the other side of the chopper where the soldiers and pilot sat, bound to trees.

Olga sat away from the others; her sorry head slumped between her shoulders as if it were hanging by a thread. I wanted to ask her—why? How could she do it? But I also didn’t want to hear her excuses, her reasons for telling the Superiors where we were, for making it possible for them to murder thousands of their own citizens. That, and I was afraid of my own anger towards her. Because a large part of me wanted to stomp on her until she was parts, not a whole. Pieces lying cracked and open in the mud.

They had their video now. I shuddered at the thought of them showing it in the other towns. I saw my mother’s face again and squeezed Rosa-May’s hand. She put us first. She entrusted her little girl to me. My sister. It proved something I was never sure of until now.

“Do you want to talk to her?” Joseph’s voice was edged sharply in anger.

I contemplated it and decided no. “There’s nothing she can say.”

Joseph moved his arm around my shoulders, a beat of hesitation there like there was a bubble of air between him and me he had to push through to touch me. I was trying to ignore it, hoping it was just concern.

“There he is.” Joseph pointed to a man in his thirties, his head against a trunk, his eyes rolling with the swish of the frozen leaves above him as if mesmerized.

I squatted down in front of him and sat back on my knees.

His head snapped to me.

“I didn’t know,” he said quietly as his eyes lolled back to the leaves. “They didn’t tell me what they were planning. I just fly the choppers and follow orders. I swear. I didn’t know they would do this.” His head rocked back and forth in unison with the dancing branches. I shuddered as the wind picked up, hooking into my skin and reeling me into his swirling eyes.

I reached out my hand and touched his arm. “What’s your name?”

“I didn’t know. All those people. Did you hear the screaming? I didn’t know,” he muttered. Something in this guy’s head had snapped. My hope slipped away with the threads of his sanity that someone had cut loose.

“Well, I really want this guy flying me hundreds of feet over pointy trees and jagged rocks,” Deshi muttered sarcastically.

A rustle in the trees caught my attention, and I jerked to standing.

“What is it?” Joseph asked, his fingers digging into my arm.

“You’re hurting me,” I whispered, irritated.

“Damn it.” Joseph let me go suddenly and walked away. He was acting so strange. He pulled his hands through his hair, turning his back to me. I placed a hand on his back, feeling it tense under my fingers.

“It’s okay…It was an accident,” I whispered.

“Denis?” Deshi’s shocked voice carried suspicion and hope.

We swung around and watched as Denis carefully picked his way towards us from the bushes, his long legs slipping gracefully between the plants without touching them.

“I can fly it,” he said, his bruise-shadowed face pulling between grave and nervous.

JOSEPH

I wish so many things. Mostly, I wish for time.

To go back. To savor. To fast forward. To control.

I want to tell them everything and nothing.

“Matt!” I jogged to catch up with him as he headed into the crowd to check more people for injuries. He paused. Soft gazes swung our way. The people of Pau Brazil were soaked in grief. But some were starting to move, to question and interact with the Survivors. There was no anger, only curiosity at the moment. I prayed it would stay that way.

“Joseph!” Matt’s voice was welcoming. My words for him were lead-coated.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Mhm…” Matt fumbled around in his pack for his stethoscope.

“It wasn’t Rosa. It was me and Deshi.” I breathed the words out slowly, watching them turn to steam.

Matt’s gaze was kind. “I know. Deshi told me what happened. I know you can’t see it yet, but you’ll get through it.” He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder that may as well have been a sharp hook. “Have you spoken to your parents?”

“My parents are already upset with me. They feel like they only just got me back and now I’m leaving again. I don’t think I can add any more stress to their lives right now,” I blurted.

Matt nodded, doctoring me. I could almost see him taking notes on my PTSD in his head. “And Rosa?”

“I don’t know how.” I don’t know where to start. Matt didn’t even know about Elise. I’d made a mess so high and so deep I didn’t know how to wade out of it or even if I deserved to.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, unperturbed, like it was a given.

ROSA

I watched Denis and Deshi carefully as we prepared for our journey. They seemed friendly enough but there was no tearful reunion or any obvious evidence of a romantic relationship. Denis revolved around Deshi as if he were the sun, but he never touched him. When Denis climbed into the cockpit of the chopper, my eyes fell to Deshi as I tried to decipher something that was possibly never there.

“Rosa, I can feel you staring at me,” Deshi growled while he was bent over his pack.

“You’re just so stunning in those camo clothes!” I joked.

He stood up and grinned at me. “I missed you.” He paused, his eyes softening.

I stepped closer to his side, our hips touching as I wrapped my arm around his narrow waist. Unlike Joseph, I could probably wrap my arms around Deshi twice.

“Did he miss me?” Our eyes rested on Joseph, who was talking to his father near the bombsite. Really, I knew he had. I don’t why I needed the reassurance; things just seemed a little off with him.

Deshi wiggled out of my grip and faced me—in his expression lay all the truths and answers I wanted and didn’t want. I looked away.

“I don’t even know how to express to you how much he missed you, blamed himself, and almost died without you. Rosa, he’s struggling. Even with you back, I’m worried about him.”

I didn’t need to hear that. “Is it because of what he did?” I asked, my heart pounding, shock waves running through me as the hours spent watching video after video of Joseph killing those soldiers rose like magic ink in my brain.

Deshi’s eyes bugged out in a surprise and for a second, his mouth hung open. It was very unlike him and he quickly composed himself.

“You know what he did?” he asked, his voice high and cracked.

“Please, don’t tell him,” I pleaded. “Part of my tort… I mean, interrogations, was watching the surveillance from that night. I saw myself… dying.” I kind of gulped dryly at the memory. It was physical, running through me like the knife that killed me. “And I saw what Joseph did after. They showed it to me… a lot.”

Deshi sighed. “Oh…” There it was again. That beat of silence like there was a missing word lying flat on his tongue. “Jesus, Rosa, that’s horrible.”

I nodded, trying to slow my breath and stop the shaking. Joseph walked towards us, a determined look on his face. He stomped through the grass loudly, and I wondered what his father had said.

I whispered to Deshi as he gripped both my wrists reassuringly. “I know what he’s like, I know he’s probably been beating himself up about what he did, but he didn’t have a choice. He would have died.”

Deshi let me go as Joseph brushed through the spindly trees bordering the chopper. Ice crept up their trunks and froze their shoulders. I breathed in the smell of icy pine and smoldering fires as if it were a drug I couldn’t get enough of.

“You’re just going to have to talk to him,” Deshi said with urgency winding round and round his voice.

I bowed my head. The words how and when pushed their way out of the dirt like spring flowers at my feet.

“What are you two talking about?” Joseph smiled, and the sun peeked out between his lips.

I tried it out; I let the golden rays hit my face and warm me.

“You,” I teased. Something like panic and fear swept across his face like a breeze, and then it was gone. “It’s okay. Nothing bad,” I said, my hands up in defense.

“Nothing bad, man.” Deshi backed me up.

Denis poked his head out of the cabin. “Are you ready to leave?”

I jumped, feeling on edge. “Is Rosa-May still with Pelo?” I asked Joseph.

“She is. Are you sure you want to bring her?” He brought a hand to my hair, and I felt like I might cry because there was air and awkwardness between us. His touch was comfort and heartbreak. It reminded me of things I’d lost, and it brought me back home.

“I’m not leaving her behind. I’m all she has.” I set my mouth.

He grinned. “So I have a daughter now?”

I laughed at his acceptance, his readiness to let Rosa-May into our family.

“Well, technically, she’s sort of like your sister-in-law. Is that right, Matthew?”

Matthew handed me a sack full of food and smirked. “I don’t think there’s a traditional word that fits your situation. All I know is, she’s lucky to have you both.”

The others gathered around to say goodbye. Gwen knocked my shoulder and whispered, “Good luck.”

Everyone exchanged looks as the blades began to churn and distort the air and words became too difficult. Deshi slapped Elise on the back, rather hard, and she pursed her lips at him before breaking into a stunning smile directed at Joseph and me.

Pelo handed me Rosa-May and yelled to me, “I want to come with you.”

I shook my head. He was needed here.

Jonathan and Steph held hands and waved to their son. When Steph’s eyes caught mine, they narrowed suspiciously. I got the feeling I wasn’t what she’d hoped for as a match for her son.

The air buzzed. Joseph grabbed my waist and hoisted me into the chopper, bending his head and following me inside. Deshi strode to the co-pilot chair and strapped himself in, busily connecting my handheld to the choppers’ navigational system. I strapped Rosa-May in, her face flushed and confused. I wished there was more I could do for her, a way to explain. The craft rattled and did a one-legged dance as it jerkily lifted into the air.

Joseph closed the door and fell into the seat next to me, strapping himself in just as the craft became airborne. I wanted to say, Remember the last time we were together in one of these? But no words came. I was overwhelmed with the memories of our past. They hit me fast like rocks spitting up into a windshield. Fear of what was ahead, excitement at leaving home and Paulo behind, and an aching for my mother. But all of those memories paled to one—Joseph’s hand over mine like a golden barrier, shutting out all my harried thoughts and warming me to my spindly core.

This was where we started. This was how we spread out over the wilderness, a thousand stretching strands. So many plotted points, missed and taken, that brought us right up to now.

His ribs nudged my side as his chest expanded with deep breaths next to me. I put my hand over his and curled my thin fingers over his tensed knuckles like a cage. We watched the people turn to ants and the forest swallow them whole.

Deshi pointed north and we swung around in an arc, the edge of Pau Brazil just visible. Concrete, I once thought impenetrable, was cracked and spilling into the grass.