Just like I knew he still loved her now.
All of these memories tossed around in my head like waves in a storm as I tried to contemplate Nathan’s suspicions. Could Henry, my first love and my daughter’s father, truly have chosen to betray his family and friends in such a terrible way? Could he have forgotten the love that we shared and the injustice that was done to our daughter enough to be willing to fight on the side of the government?
Or had he never had a choice to begin with? That, at least, was easier to imagine than Henry actively choosing to deceive us in the name of the regime.
I couldn’t picture him changing so much in the two short years since I had last seen him. But I also trusted Nathan and his judgment. And I myself had been shocked to see Henry at that truck stop—at such a fortuitous time—providing us with exactly the escape we needed.
Did I believe that level of coincidence was possible?
Something large and furry ran across the road a few yards away, and I squinted at the animal as it dove into a field of tall grass. It was a fox. Its poofy, black-tipped tail disappeared from sight, heading away from the small city and back to the birch forests. I could definitely see why Fiora had been drawn to this base. The fox seemed like it would have been as at home on her lap as it was in the mountainous woods. I wished that I had been able to speak more to her when I was in her office, partly because I was embarrassed by the interaction she had witnessed. But also because she seemed like a solid leader. She had been well spoken and available even in the face of Nathan’s dark turn, and I wondered whether she and Corona might be able to step up together and fill the hole that Nathan was threatening to leave. At the very least, she was an interesting character.
But I worried about her safety. I was worried about all of us, including the kind nurses in the hospital and the small families that worked in the fields and greenhouses. Corona sounded so confident when she said Brightbirch was safe. But how could she truly be sure of that? Especially when Nathan obviously believed that the mole was right under our noses here in Brightbirch.
Some combination of the pleasant weather, the beautiful scenery, and the tumult in my mind kept me slowly walking through and around Brightbirch for some time. And so I was surprised when I reached the tents and instantly smelled the wondrous scent of a hot dinner. Sure enough, the picnic tables were now lined with pots and platters. I walked up and grabbed a plate, excited. As I reached for the lid of the first pot, a familiar voice spoke to me.
“Only open that if you like your greens,” Alexy said, scooping a huge pile of crusty roast potatoes onto her plate.
I smiled. It was good to be reunited with Alexy, even if our last interaction on the airship had been a tense one.
“We commandeered a corner of tents,” I told her as I spooned big florets of broccoli onto my plate. “If you and Zion want to join us.”
“Thanks. We definitely will,” she replied. “We’ve been doing some hiking since we landed. Trying to keep our minds occupied without our usual team duties to keep us busy.”
I nodded. I knew the feeling. It felt like Little John should constantly be moving forward, getting closer to our main goal—as well as our own personal goals of reuniting with our family members—so any lull in the activity made me feel anxious and restless.
I looked over the tent city, wondering if everyone was feeling like Alexy and I were. Brightbirch would’ve been great if we were all celebrating the regime’s fall by taking a vacation, but as it stood the tranquility of the mountains almost seemed to be mocking us. How could a part of the country still be so peaceful and beautiful when there were so many factory towns full of pollution and suffering and early death? Brightbirch citizens were enjoying a quality of life that was almost unheard of for most UNA citizens, and that was if those citizens were lucky enough to avoid lobotomy, execution, or having their children stolen from them and practically sold.
“Have you seen Jace?” I asked, trying to pull myself away from the unpleasant thought of human misery.
Alexy cocked her head back toward our tent corner, implying that he was already there, and I snatched a crusty piece of French bread and began to head in that direction.
“Thanks!” I shouted back over my shoulder.
I walked through the camp to the back corner to see the team quietly sitting together on the grass, leaning over plates of hot food. My heart lurched when I saw Jace. Now more than ever, seeing his impressive form managed to make me feel butterflies.
He looked up as I approached and smiled warmly, patting the soft grass beside him for me to sit.
“Hey,” I breathed out as I lowered myself to the ground beside Jace.
“Hey,” he echoed back softly.
I noticed that his eyes were looking heavy and tired with sadness. His normally even skin tone was still blotched from crying.
“Where’d you go off to after we split up?” Nelson asked, holding up a forkful of salad. “I thought you’d be back sooner.”
I remembered the altercation in Fiora’s office and suddenly wanted to talk to my friends about Henry and the confusion I felt in response to Nathan’s harsh words. But I didn’t want to put more stress on Jace and the other cavemen on an already awful day. I also didn’t want to face any of my team members being swayed by Nathan’s convictions. So I kept it to myself.
“I went on a walk and looked at the horses,” I replied. A half-truth. “I even saw a fox.”
“I’m not used to all of this wildlife,” Abe added.
“Now that’s a lie. Trenton was overflowing with wildlife,” Ant retorted. “Just think of all the rats and roaches you’re forgetting about.”
Jackie shivered as if she had just remembered something that was better forgotten.
At that moment, Rhea bounded over to us from a row of tents not too far away from ours. She looked impatiently at her brother.
“You’re not done yet?” She sighed. “My friends and I had two helpings and dessert.”
I chuckled at the mental image of Rhea and her girlfriends absolutely inhaling food. But looking back at Jace, as he pushed peas aimlessly around his plate, my smile faded. He probably wasn’t in much of a mood to eat.
“We’ll go soon, Rhea,” he replied. “We have to wait for everyone.”
I looked quizzically at Jace. Then the realization dawned on me that I might’ve missed an important conversation while I was away in Fiora’s office.
“We should go before it gets dark, though,” Denver added gently.
For the first time I noticed that there was a small wooden box beside Jace, nestled tightly against him as if it were very precious.
Kory.
Suddenly I didn’t feel very hungry either. When Rhea had invited us to a funeral, I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon.
“You don’t have to wait for us,” Jackie assured Jace softly. “We’re ready whenever you guys are.”
Rhea smiled at Jackie and then knelt down beside her brother. “We can’t keep him anymore,” she said. “His parents are probably waiting for him.”
A fat tear spilled out of Jace’s red-rimmed eyes and down into the scruffy hair on his chin.
I had wondered if everyone from Jace’s tribe really handled death as casually as they seemed to back in the morgue. But it looked like they were actually a lot more like the rest of us than I had thought. Granted, I was still relatively new to the art of grieving. I knew loss, sure, but I didn’t yet know much about the finality of death when it came to the people I loved. Jace, unfortunately, was probably an expert in the matter.
I put down my plate and placed a hand on his knee.
“We’re ready whenever you are,” I told him.
His watery eyes looked up to meet mine. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he finally said.
Our group began to slowly stand and gather, and I watched as Jace picked up the small box of cremated remains, holding it gently but firmly in his grasp. Then he led the way as we walked away from the
tents and toward the gray forest.
The sun lowering in the sky brought with it an icy mountain chill. I caught up to Jace, shivering slightly, and then felt one of Jace’s warm, heavy arms slumping over me. I pressed gratefully against his warm figure.
Walking into the birch forest felt like stepping into another world. It reminded me of home in certain ways, like the sounds and smells of any woods, but the color and the way the dying light reflected off the white birch trunks felt completely foreign. I wondered whether the forest that Kory and Jace had grown up in was similar to this one or more like the warm pine forest on the outskirts of Trenton that I was used to.
Was this where Kory would want his final resting place to be? I trusted his closest friends to know the answer to that question.
“Did you get a chance to see Juno?” Jace asked softly. Even at a time like this, he was still thinking of me and what mattered to me, and my heart ballooned with love for him.
“She was still recovering,” I replied.
“We’ll go back to try again soon, then,” he said.
I thought of introducing Jace and Juno and allowed myself to revel in that small glimmer of hope.
“I think this will work,” Cloyd’s gruff voice suddenly rang out over our group.
We all stopped. We had reached a little clearing in the woods beside a trickling stream. The slope of the earth had begun to tilt upward as we walked farther into the woods, and I noticed now, looking up through the white trees, that we were near the base of one of the lesser mountains that surrounded Brightbirch. Bubbling beside us, the small stream sent fresh water down into a few small pools. The silence of the dusk was only broken by the soft splash of water, chattering songbirds, and the faraway rhythm of a woodpecker.
I didn’t know for sure about Kory, but I thought that I definitely would’ve been happy to call this my final resting place. It was stunningly beautiful and perfectly calm.
“I think you’re right,” Jace replied.
He stopped and removed his arm from my shoulders. I stood back and joined the rest of our team as we made a small circle around Jace. It was obvious to all of us that he would be speaking.
Jace held on to the small wooden box and exhaled deeply. His eyes closed, as if he was listening to someone speak from far away, and then they opened again, and he looked at all of us in turn.
“Thank you for coming,” he began.
Even the noise of the woodpecker melted away as I homed in on his words.
“We’re here today to honor Kory, taken too soon. Kory was our friend and brother. He joined this mission because he genuinely wanted to help. And with his sacrifice, we can definitively say that he did help. He gave his life to further a cause that he deeply believed in.”
I tried to mute the sound of my sniffling. Tears were beginning to flow freely from my eyes as I thought back to spending those last few hours with Kory before he died.
“But while we are grateful to Kory for his sacrifice, we must also remember that it shouldn’t have been necessary. The regime never should have put Kory, or any of us, in a position to lose our lives to better the future. And so we vow to Kory to pick up his mantle and carry on this fight, in his name.”
I felt a rush of indignation at Jace’s words. He was right. Kory had given up his life for something he believed in, but it never should have happened. We couldn’t lose sight of that.
“But now for Kory, at least, the fight has ended. He can finally rejoin his parents and all of our families in rest, and we ask that he watch over us and keep us safe as we continue on in his memory.”
We remained standing in enraptured silence as his words settled over us.
“Does anyone have any stories or memories of Kory that they’d like to share in remembrance as we say our goodbyes?” Jace asked.
“He taught me how to lay traps,” Denver said with a smile. “Then he set one off on me when I wasn’t looking.”
We laughed together, our faces still wet with tears.
“One time he climbed all the way to the top of an apple tree because I said I wanted the very best one,” Rhea said, wiping a tear off of her cheek.
I smiled at the thought of Kory being so helpful and eager to please. Then I decided to share one of my last memories of Kory, as well.
“He—”
“We should probably get this show on the road,” Cloyd interrupted.
My mouth hung open in surprise and hurt after my words were cut off. I knew Cloyd didn’t care for me much, even if I didn’t understand why, but I didn’t expect him to silence me at Kory’s funeral.
The air over us suddenly became thick with tension as eyes turned to me and then Cloyd in shock and discomfort.
I was already trying to convince myself that now wasn’t the time for a conflict and that his bad behavior was probably related to his grief and sadness when Jace’s words cut through me like a hot knife.
“Cloyd,” Jace said, and I braced myself for what was coming next. “What is your problem?”
Oh, no. I couldn’t think of a worse time to hash this out. But Cloyd and Jace both were strong-willed and currently deeply emotional. It suddenly seemed to me like a perfect storm.
Cloyd stared back icily. “My problem?” he shot back. I felt unsteady on my feet. This wasn’t going to be good. “Okay, Jace. Sure. I’ll tell you my problem.”
I could tell from his tone that he was out for blood. I knew he was about to say something that he would never be able to take back. And because of that, I wanted to grab Jace and run away with him, far away from Cloyd. I wanted to step into the middle of the circle and yell at both boys for doing this at such an inappropriate time. I wanted to turn around and leave alone so that I wouldn’t have to witness or hear what I knew was coming. But instead, like everyone else, I stood frozen.
“My problem is that our lifelong friend is dead because you were more concerned about taking care of your girlfriend than looking out for Kory,” Cloyd spat out.
And I felt the air being sucked out of me.
8
Time stood still around us. Somewhere the woodpecker was still hammering away at a tree and the spring was still bubbling with life, but all I could hear was the roar of my pulse in my ears.
I wanted to sink down into the ground, far away from what Cloyd had said. But there was no escape. I was trapped here in this nightmare.
Jace stood perfectly still, his eyes somehow looking simultaneously hurt and afire with rage.
“Cloyd,” Alf managed to squeak out with uncertainty.
But Cloyd wasn’t backing down. “No, it’s time someone said it,” he replied defiantly, not taking his eyes off of Jace.
“But we don’t feel that way,” Denver said. “Cloyd, it was an accident.”
“An accident?” Cloyd guffawed. “Jace has been prioritizing this girl over all of us for weeks now. This wasn’t an accident. It was reckless neglect! You told Kory to keep an eye on Robin during this mission. I know you did. But who was there for Kory when he needed it—and how was he supposed to take care of himself when he was busy looking out for your girl?”
“And why couldn’t you have saved him, then?” Rhea piped up, stepping between Cloyd and her brother. “You were on that mission just like Jace was! At least he was there for him in the end!”
“This is none of your business!” Cloyd shot back.
His anger, which was now directed toward Rhea, snapped Jace into action.
“If you need a scapegoat for your guilt, keep it directed at me. Leave my sister out of it,” Jace replied dangerously.
Scapegoat? Guilt? This was starting to feel like a horrible window into an ongoing conversation that didn’t include the majority of us. But all I could do was stand there. Even with Cloyd’s attempt to make it personal, I knew that this wasn’t my fight. Still, it was hard to see Jace looking so angry and shocked by the accusations, especially at such an inopportune time.
Cloyd took a menacing step forward, and I braced
myself for an all-out brawl. Denver and Alf seemed to be preparing themselves to step forward as well. But then Cloyd shook his head and turned to walk away from our group. His footfalls were padded by the soft forest bedding of yellow birch leaves as he retreated.
I watched Cloyd go and then turned back to Jace, trying to read his emotions through his eyes. I wanted desperately to run up and hug him, to tell him that Cloyd didn’t mean that, and to remind him that we were here for Kory. But it felt strange to do that in the immediate wake of Cloyd’s searing accusations about our relationship. And truthfully, I was so shocked and bewildered by the encounter that I could barely think, much less move.
Jace, his face blank, lifted the wooden box’s lid.
A gust of wind whipped through the woods with poetic timing, and, with a flourish of his arm, Jace released the ashes inside to be carried away to the mountains. Kory’s ashen remains danced off into the dusk, glittering slightly in the sunlight, and with them the last earthly parts of our friend and team member. They were headed to their final resting place now.
Another tear dropped down my cheek. Kory was fully gone from us. And now we were splintering under suspicion and blame-shifting. I looked back at Jace just in time to see him offer one last sentiment and then turn and walk off without us.
“Goodbye, Kory.”
“So . . . is that how you guys always do funerals?” Ant asked.
Jackie, Nelson, and I shot him simultaneous glares that made him physically flinch.
Jace’s figure had descended down the birch-laden slope far enough that we could barely see him now, and we had wordlessly chosen to give him a wide berth before we started to follow him. It seemed apparent that he wanted some space. But Denver, Alf, and Rhea still stood with us, likely as frozen as we were by the unfortunate turn that Kory’s funeral had taken.
“Normally it’s a little more about good memories,” Alf finally replied.
“At least Kory probably would’ve laughed at how badly we botched it,” Denver said hopefully.
But Rhea’s troubled face didn’t look convinced. I stepped toward her and put my hand on her shoulder, and she placed her hand over mine and looked up at me appreciatively. But the shadow of pain and doubt on her face remained.
The Child Thief 6: Zero Hour Page 6
