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The Wanted
  • Текст добавлен: 8 октября 2016, 22:19

Текст книги "The Wanted"


Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor



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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

ROSA

My heart split like a broken zipper every time Deshi approached Hessa. The boy didn’t know him. It had been over six months since they’d seen each other, and Deshi was a stranger to him.

“You can hate me if you like,” I whispered as I watched the painful exchange of Deshi holding out his hand to Hessa and Hessa hiding behind Alexei’s leg.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rosa,” he snapped. “I’m happy for you. God knows, you deserve some happiness.”

“Yeah, but so do you.” I thought about my month in the Superiors’ compound, understanding more than most what Deshi had been through to get here. I repeated back what Joseph had told me about Rosa-May. “He just needs time.”

Deshi waved me off, though I could tell his heart was punctured with a thousand holes. “I’ll be whatever he needs. If that’s no longer a father, I’ll accept that. I just want to be a part of his life.”

Joseph reentered the room, his face grave.

“How is he?” Alexei and I said at the same time.

Descending the stairs two at a time, he collapsed on the leather couch. He stared into the potbelly fireplace, which grinned ghoulishly back as he spoke. “Lucky we got here when we did. I’ve given him antibiotics. Now we just have to wait a few days to see how he responds.”

Pietre had bacterial pneumonia. I wasn’t sure what that was but from the coughing and swearing coming from the room, I assumed it was pretty bad.

Past the large, double-glazed door, piles of skins burdened the railing of the deck of the cabin.

“Where is she?” I asked Alexei about Careen.

He patted my arm. “She spends most of her day hunting. I don’t think she could stand to be here and watch him… but now that you’re here, things will be much better,” he replied, as if he were trying to talk himself into it.

I leaned my head on his rounded shoulder. I couldn’t believe I was here. It seemed unfair in a way that somehow I’d managed to get back to my family when so many had lost theirs. I had to be thankful that my suffering, my fight, had a good end. It brought me to the top of a mountain and to the boy sitting in my lap. Orry clambered off my leg and ran to Rosa-May, who was sitting on the edge of the rug, staring out of the window. He grabbed her arm and dragged her onto the deck. She went with him, still quiet but warming a little. I didn’t explain to them who they were to each other. They wouldn’t understand. All they needed to know was they were now family.

Denis hovered in the background, uncomfortable. We existed in a bubble he was unsure whether he should be in or outside of.

Alexei’s eyes slipped to the window, where a shock of red hair stood out against the white snow.

“Here she is,” he said happily, clapping his hands together and shaking them once.

I tripped over the solid wood coffee table and ran to the window, waving gawkily. Her eyes flickered up as I banged on the window. They widened with surprise, and I sprinted for the door. Joseph chuckled as my blunt footsteps made the glasses in the cabinet vibrate.

I sunk into the snow like a hot coal. She dropped her kill and glided gracefully towards me as if the ground were a meadow and she, a gazelle. We slammed into each other, and I felt the air leave her body. Dropping to her knees, she made an ugly gasping noise, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” she cried as I knelt down beside her and hugged her close, her heaving sobs reminding me that while I was being tortured, so was she, thinking Pietre might die and that we would never come home.

“Thank you so much,” I whispered, pulling her curves towards me. “Thank you so much for taking care of my son.” I owed her everything.

She pulled back, her big, blue eyes glistening with confusion.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

I collapsed over her, laughing, my arms wings ready to fold her into my heart. “Yes, you did.”

Her voice was muffled by my shoulder, but I still heard her say, “Your hair looks very strange, Rosa.” Our giggles rattled and shook the little hooks of pain that hung from my ribs, a few falling from my body and burying themselves in the snow.

It was strange and right, sitting around a chunky, wooden table, warm light bouncing off the timber that lined every part of what Alexei informed me was a ski chalet. It didn’t sound like the name for a building; it sounded like one of the pretentious dishes Grant would have served. At the thought of him, chills crept up my spine, ruffling my skin and making me shudder.

The surviving members of our original group of escapees sat at the table. And despite their physical absence, the spirits of Apella and Clara were still there, in Hessa’s eyes and Alexei’s sad, wandering smile. Every time he shook his head slightly, or closed his eyes longer than normal, I felt he was having an invented conversation with her. It caused an aching and a comfort in me like a pillow stuffed with spiky grass.

Over cooked game and tinned vegetables, we talked about what had happened and what was yet to happen. We couldn’t leave until Pietre was well enough, in a few days, which was fine by all of us. It gave us sorely needed time to prepare ourselves.

“I can’t believe they went that far, to kill that many citizens in one dreadful act,” Alexei muttered into his food. “I also can’t believe two Superiors are dead.”

Joseph and I exchanged a glance that spun and collided. Words traveled silently, bouncing off each other, in the space between our gaze.

“And four towns are free?” Careen asked Joseph, her elbows propped up on the table, leaning forward intently.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I think they are at least on their way to being free,” he answered.

“I wish I’d seen it,” I mumbled.

Joseph’s gaze folded over me, a scorch, a cinder, an ember. “I wish that too.”

“So much has changed in such a short period of time!” Alexei exclaimed. “It’s unbelievable.”

“It sure is,” I said, my face pulling into a nasty frown that I directed towards Joseph. He leaned back, his face drowning in hurt and regret.

He stood up suddenly. “I’m going to check on the patient.”

I stood too, glancing at the rabble of three children getting to know each other the way they knew best, tumbling in a ball and throwing things around the room. “I think I’ll put the children to bed.”

We left a cloud of concern hovering over the table.

I had more hands to hold than I could manage, and I beckoned Deshi to help me. We scooped the children up and climbed the short flight of stairs to the room that Hessa and Orry had been sharing.

Rosa-May undressed herself easily. The boys needed help, and I was glad to see Hessa allowing Deshi to help him pull on his pajama top. I felt sure they’d get there.

We tucked them in, their eyes already heavy as the light was turned down low. I kneeled down on the floor, my eyes finding each sleepy face. I kissed them. Deshi sat neatly beside me, his arm loosely on my shoulder.

I opened my mouth to say goodnight, but music flowed from my lips instead. “Once there was a way to get back homeward.

Once there was a way to get back home.

Orry’s eyes were pools of innocence, cool blue and rich brown. Pure, muddy waters.

Sleep pretty darling, do not cry,

And I will sing a lullaby.

Hessa’s face was at peace. He smiled drowsily and dug his head deeper into his pillow. His mother’s face rose from him.

Golden slumbers fill your eyes.

Smiles await you when you rise.

Sleep pretty darling, do not cry,

And I will sing a lullaby.”

Rosa-May’s husky voice whispered through the dark, “Guhnight,” and my smile glowed like a nightlight.

JOSEPH

 

I didn’t know it could hurt this much, to hear her voice. Because I’m scared she won’t ever look at me the same. I’m scared I’ll only ever get to hear her from a distance now.

I was outside the door, shamelessly listening to Rosa sing, when they both backed out and smacked into me.

She turned suddenly and was pressed against my chest, her beautiful eyes fluttering up at me. I could feel that she loved me, wanted me. But she would always fight against it, and she had every right to be angry.

My eyes slipped to her lips, pursed in frustration, and I wanted to kiss her. Every minute of every day, I wanted to kiss her. I cursed myself for not doing it when I first held her, dirt-crusted and wearing that hideous dress. But that kiss would have been a lie. Until I’d told her the truth, everything would have been a lie.

“I’m going to bed, guys,” Desh muttered, squeezing passed us.

“Night,” I said without looking at him.

She brought her arms up to my chest. I breathed in, hoping she was going to lean towards me, but she pushed us apart.

Alexei clattered in the kitchen, wiped his hands on a tea towel, and looked at us both over his glasses.

She squirmed uncomfortably. “You look tired. You should go to bed too,” she said, flustered. At least I think that was what she said. I was watching her lips move but not really listening to her words. I couldn’t stand this barrier between us. I didn’t want to be in the eye of her storm, where it was calm, still, infuriatingly quiet. If I couldn’t be out there with the rain stinging my face, the wind sending a blur of leaves and debris dashing in front of my eyes, then I wasn’t really with her.

“Joseph…?” My arms had wrapped around her waist of their own accord. She wiggled out of my grasp and walked down the stairs to the lounge area where Careen sat, sipping tea. I shrugged and went to the room we’d been given. I promised I would do what she wanted.

I flicked on the light by the bed and undressed. It was so warm in the chalet that I only needed the lightweight pajamas I found in a drawer. I slid under the warm quilt and praised the Survivors for their planning. This place was like their other hideaways, well stocked, comfortable, and like home.

I turned off the light and lay on my side of the bed, leaving wishful room for her. Staring out of the window at the moonlight reflecting off the snow, I hoped the door would creak open, that she’d crawl in beside me, wrap her arms around my shoulders, and the last month would just melt away.

ROSA

 

“I made you some tea,” Careen said, blowing steam over the top of the mug cupped in both her hands and nodding towards another on the coffee table. Candles waved indecisively in the corners of the room.

“Thanks.” I took the mug and let it heat my fingers.

“So what’s going on with you two?” she blurted, pointing her finger between me and the closed bedroom door before I could even take a sip.

I gulped the scalding water and coughed. The sweetness fuzzed my teeth instantly.

“Seriously, Rosa. From what I can gather, you’ve been apart for only a month and now you’re acting very strange with each other.” That’s right; it was only a month. “Shouldn’t you be in there with him right now, you know…” She waggled her eyebrows, looking more confused than suggestive, though I knew she was going for suggestive.

I snorted. Careen was always very good at cutting right down to the bone truth of things. “A lot has happened in that month.”

“All the more reason for you not to waste time,” she said matter-of-factly. “Who knows what will happen next? You’re here, together, now.”

She was right.

The closed bedroom door seemed to pulse like a steady heartbeat. “He did something. I just don’t know…”

She leaned forward, placed her mug on the table in front of us, and turned to me intensely. “What did he do?” Her voice was a stick of shock, stirring intrigue.

I dipped my head and spoke to my mug. “He was almost unfaithful to me.”

Her laugh ripped through me, pulling my clothes and leaving me vulnerable.

“What the hell does that mean?” she managed through her giggling.

I laughed too, in a false kind of way, because even though it sounded stupid, it didn’t feel stupid. It just hurt.

I sighed. “He kissed another girl.”

She took a breath and calmed herself, tapping her chin. “And this was when you were captured, when he didn’t know if you were dead or alive, when he was grieving you, apart from Orry too, just, well, completely lost and alone?”

I nodded.

She put her hands on my forearms and squeezed. “I could rip his lips off for you,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I grinned, covering my mouth, but it poked out both sides as if it were bigger than the room. “That won’t be necessary but thanks.” I loved his lips.

“Okay, then you need to decide right now if this is something you actually care about. After everything you two have been through, together and apart, you need to decide what you really want and what you’re willing to lose.”

Not him. Not over a kiss.

She just stared into my eyes as I thought about what she said. What did I really care about? It wasn’t him kissing that girl.

And the truth was that I didn’t need Joseph.

I wanted him.

It was a choice I had to make. I wanted love in my life, happiness, laughter, and warmth. Need could be a dirty, greedy little feeling. It was what drove Grant to do horrible things, and it may have been what drove Joseph to do what he did.

But I knew he wanted me and only me.

He was not why I lived. Without him, I would go on. It would be a sourer, hollower existence, but I could endure. Joseph was how I wanted to live.

She cocked her head to one side and smiled at me. “So…?”

“I don’t care,” I whispered.



JOSEPH

Boards creaked as a slit in the door revealed a bar of golden light. She barely made any noise as she padded to the bed. She didn’t get in on her normal side. Instead, she moved around to my side and crouched down. The moonlight streamed over her shoulder, her angles, so sharp and delicate at the same time.

She flicked on the bedside lamp. It lit up her face in golden hues. It took my breath. She stole it and wouldn’t give it back. She could have it.

I wanted to, so badly, but I was scared to touch her, worried it was the last time. My hands stalled, pausing on the edge of the bed. Lying there, I felt bare. Without a word, she turned back the covers and tugged at the hem of my shirt, pulling it up to my neck. I followed her lead. I would do anything she wanted. I took the collar in one hand and pulled it over my head.

Her fingers danced along my scars as she whispered, “I don’t care.” Three words that could heal and harm me.

I was too scared to respond. Scared she could see how broken I was. How much I’d changed and that what was left of me was wanting.

She took my hand, guided it under her shirt, and pressed it to her warm stomach, forcing me to touch her scar. Her warm skin was strong, like everything I wanted. I closed my eyes as I let my fingers explore that new part of her. It was a rope, holding her together. It could bind us too. I fit my hands to either side of her waist and pulled her closer, my head, her head, hanging over each other’s shoulders. She gasped at our closeness.

She murmured into my hair, “After everything we’ve been through, I just don’t want to care about it, Joseph. I won’t. It’s not worth us. It’s not worth losing us.” There was a small pain in her voice. I vowed to scuff away that sound, live through it until it was just a memory.

But I’m lost.

She pulled back, searching my face with her amazing, piercing eyes, and said softly, “You know, you were always so perfect. Too good for me.” I shook my head. If only she understood how wrong she was. “And I loved you for it.” She tucked her unkempt hair behind her ear and the earnestness in her expression jumpstarted my heart. She could see me. All of me. “And now you’re a bit broken, and I’ll love you for that too. And maybe, now that we’re both broken, we can kind of stick each other back together. You know, like glue.” Her face twisted adorably, and I could see her internally kicking herself for saying it like that.

Something I thought was lost rumbled to the surface. “Glue?” I smiled. Then the rumble made its way to my mouth, and I laughed out loud.

That beautiful pinch between her eyebrows appeared, and she threw her hands in the air. “Oh crap, I don’t know! I’m no good at metaphors. All I know is that I love you. I don’t care if you’re broken and stuck back together all misshaped with drips of glue showing through the cracks. Whatever happens, whatever it is, we’ll work it out. We always do.”

She loves me. Nothing I knew or would ever know compared to that realization.

My laugh grew. She had cracked me open, or glued me back together because I was hysterical, and I could feel myself letting a bit of all the bad things I’d been holding onto go. I stopped hesitating and reached for her scowling body, pulling her onto my chest. Her heart beat strong over mine.

I calmed myself enough to say, “No. Glue is good. It’s perfect.” Perfect. We were broken and perfect.

She smiled and thumped my chest lightly with her fist. Her hair fell on either side of me, blocking out the world. All I could see was her dark face, her pointed nose, and proud cheekbones that held up even prouder eyes. She dipped her mouth to mine and our lips touched. It was the beginning. It was a promise. I let the moment roll through me, existing only in this point in time. Not looking forward or backward.

She drew back and cocked her head, a delicious revelation of a smile dancing across her face. “You’re an idiot,” she whispered.

I nodded, trying really hard not to kiss her again, and gave up.

I knew she meant it, but I also knew she loved me for it.

ROSA

 

He is dented, golden light. I am light, redder than blood. Always, we will come together, strike orange flame, and sink below the clouds with the sun.



ROSA

SIX MONTHS LATER

The Woodlands was a beautiful idea, twisted into something gnarled and rotting. Because a settlement based on the rings of tree trunks should have grown. Each ring marking a passing year, new leaves and branches spreading past the trunk, touching other branches like resting arms.

What happens when you control a tree’s growth? Its roots either become so netted, so wrapped around each other, that it dies… or one finds that tiny crack to push through and breaks free of its containment

The four of us looked up from our breakfast at the timid knock on the door. Rosa-May was the first one up, rushing to the door and swinging it open. Odval stood in the entrance, a shy smile on her face. Her baby was strapped to her chest in a complicated sling.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“Pelo is watching the other two back at home,” she answered. She had her hands full with the three lost children from the nursery she had adopted. Almost every Survivor had taken in a child. We had a few here until they were found permanent homes. Plenty of hands had gone up to take them.

This was the beautiful mess we lived in. Four free towns. Four under extremely shaky Superior rule. When they showed Grant’s video, it had the opposite effect to what they had hoped. It had enraged the people. Superior Judith Grant was ‘stood’ down, and now only Poltinov and Sekimbo remained.

“Matthew has asked me to pass on a message to join him at the break this morning,” Odval hummed.

“Now?” I asked with a mouth full of cereal.

“Yes, now.” Odval nodded solemnly.

Joseph chuckled lightly, quickly clearing the dishes. “You heard the lady!”

Odval lingered in the doorway. “I love what you’ve done, Rosa…” I waited as she formed her request. She didn’t need to be weird about it. “I don’t suppose you could come help Pelo and me finish off our extra bedroom? Three children in one room… it’s getting rather cramped,” she asked quietly.

I laughed as Joseph’s arm snaked around my waist. “Of course I can!”

We stepped out of our newly built cottage and I closed the heavy, wooden door behind us. Its solidity reassured me. I’d wanted to be near Pau but not inside the walls. I just couldn’t go back in there after what happened to my mother. I couldn’t make Rosa-May go back in there either. Cottages spotted the woods like they’d always been there. A lot of the citizens shared our feelings on living inside Pau Brazil after Ring Two was destroyed.

Joseph batted at Rosa-May’s legs. “So Posie, you want a ride?” She grinned. She was still mostly silent, but a new word appeared every few days or so. I understood. She kept them treasured and secret. They were her one way of controlling things, and I wouldn’t push. I wouldn’t take that away from her.

He swept her up and hoisted her onto his shoulders.

Orry and I held hands and swung them high as we found the new road that led from Pau Brazil to Bagassa and walked towards the break in the wall.

We approached the gathering crowd and like a bright torch in a tunnel, my vision flicked to one glowing image, a personal, everyday moment that meant so much more: Their foreheads touching gently, brushing like bending bows. Deshi then lifted his face and kissed the top of his son’s head. There was a small explosion in that kiss. Healing stars that spun out and spread. They told me that with time, with love, any relationship could be repaired. It was a hope I held for all of us.

Matthew stood in front of the break, scratching his leg nervously, the breeze causing the thousands of red death marker ribbons to wave and jump from the twisted concrete like they were alive. Survivors crowded around closest to him. The citizens of Pau formed an outer shell. Except for where Gwen stood, surrounded by kids from the Classes. They pierced the unspoken thin-film barrier that stood between Survivor and Woodlands Citizen. They padded after her and hung off her every word on music and culture, and she loved it. If they ever reopened the Classes as a university, whatever that meant, like Matthew wanted, she would make a great Guardian.

When Matthew saw me, he smiled and ran over, pushing his way through the crowd.

“Look at Gwen,” I said. “Wouldn’t she make a great Guardian?” She smirked at me and gestured to all the eager eyes on her.

“If we manage to re-open the Classes as a university, we’d call them counselors, Rosa,” Matthew corrected. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t care what word we used—I was counting on the meanings behind them changing.

Matthew took my arm, his eyes widening in nervous panic as he took in the large group of people whose faces had followed him to me. “I can’t do this. I’m a doctor, not a politician.”

“They chose you,” I said, sweeping my arm in an arc over everyone who had voted for Matthew, almost unanimously, to be our representative in the negotiations for peace with the remaining four settlements that would take place in the now-empty Classes compound.

“I wish you were coming with me,” he said, pumping his injured hand to steel himself.

I paused. He had asked. But I couldn’t leave my family again. He understood. I was helping here, doing my small part and stepping into the background, into the shade of the others who would lead. They didn’t need me. It was a wonderful, all-encompassing feeling of release.

“You don’t need me,” I said, smiling, real face-full-of-teeth kind of smiling.

Joseph leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear, sending that golden thrill through me that only he could, “I need you.” But I knew what he really meant was he wanted me.

“You’re doing fine without me,” I managed, winding one hand through Joseph’s and pushing Matthew forward with the other.

He nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” he said, bundling his nerves together and placing them in his shirt pocket.

Matthew strode back through the crowd, climbed atop a broken slab concrete, and turned to address the watching eyes, the waiting hearts,

“Citizens of the Free Woodlands…”


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