by E. L. Giles
Nor do mine. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Josh. They will kill you, and I would never allow you to die. Never would I allow Dolores to be deprived of her son. It’s out of the question.”
“And I won’t let you die. I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay by your side. We belong together. Period.”
We belong together. That alone puts an end to my argument. It makes me want to sob in his arms. Everything seems hopeless. How will we get out of this? How will I keep him alive? Tears wet my eyes, and he wipes them away with the back of his finger.
“We’ll flee deeper into the wild. Somewhere they will never find us. Alastair will guide us. Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”
“How do we do that?” I ask dryly, unconvinced.
Josh looks thoughtful for a moment, turning around, scanning our surroundings frantically.
“There’s too much rubble there for us to use those doors,” he says, pointing at the side door in front of us and then at the one at the other end of the building, under the tee with the man nailed to it. “And we can’t access the addition. The roof has collapsed.”
“Why can’t we fly through a broken window?” I ask.
“I need space, and it’s too cramped. We’d need to make it outside first, and even if we do reach it, they will see us and shoot us dead in a second. I’m not fast enough, and even if I was, they would go after us and find Dolores and Alastair.”
The voices are getting closer, and every minute we lose speaking we risk getting caught. We must at least hide ourselves somewhere. Josh hurries around collecting our things, loosely rolling the blanket and shoving it into the bag, and then he pours all of the remaining water over the remnants of our dying fire, the very last wisps of smoke being extinguished.
“There are stairs right there.” He points at a spot beside the door we came in. “We’ll hide upstairs.”
“Let’s split up,” says a voice outside. It sounds closer to us now—like right behind the door at my back. Every muscle in Josh tightens in an instant. His wings vibrate faintly like he wants to unfold them despite the lack of free space. He closes his hands into tights fists that suck all the blood from his knuckles. And then I notice the rage that burns like fire in his now dark eyes. He’s like an animal, a dangerous one, like the bear that charged at me in the woods—when Josh found me and saved me. But this time, I don’t feel like easy prey, waiting to die. No, not next to Josh. Not with those eyes of his. It feels more like predator against predator. I’m sure they have rifles though, and we only have bare hands. It’s pure madness to think we could bring them all down.
Josh crouches, and I do the same. We move down the aisle between the rows of benches. Piles of debris cover the floor, and making our way without a sound is next to impossible. We stop a few times, to be sure we are safe and no one has heard us. We hear branches cracking outside, and the sound of footsteps on the cement outside resonates. The doorknob starts to turn with a creaking noise. They’re here, trying to get inside.
Josh gets up, clutches my hand, and pulls me into his arm in one fast movement. I hurt my chest on his elbow and lose my breath for a second. Josh doesn’t notice and wraps his hands around my waist with the same ferocity. I hear the rustling of his feathers brushing against each other as they unfold. It must be our very last chance of escape if he’s decided to fly. With a few flaps of his wings that send clouds of dust off the floor, we’re already twenty feet high and heading to a mezzanine I never noticed until now. And the moment our feet land on the wooden floor, we hear a loud crack that reverberates through the building, followed by several bangs. Josh moves a few feet away from me and drops the bag onto the floor. He starts delving frantically into it until he brings out something long, wrapped in a leather cloth.
“Just in case,” he says. His eyes are wilder than ever.
He unwraps the leather bands from what appears to be an old, rusted knife, and as he steps aside, a ray of light hits the blade, revealing its sharpness.
“Just in case what?” I ask.
I already know the answer, but I’ve seen so much death already, the thought of more nauseates me. The only comfort I find is that at least we’re not unarmed.
Chapter Twenty-One
The door slams open, causing the structure to vibrate beneath our feet. Particles fall on my head, and I force myself not to scream, force myself not to cry out in fear and rage. I must let it all die in my throat. Every footstep reverberates throughout the building, filling my ears with the sounds of their boots stomping on the floor and the cracking of rubble under their feet. There are hissing noises coming from their communication devices. If only I could hear what is being said through them, but we can only hear static. There’s no way to know exactly what’s going on. Nothing other than the “clear the zone” part that is quite distinct, giving me goosebumps. I bite my tongue harder than I ever have, suppressing a new series of screams that fill my mouth. I won’t be able to hold onto them much longer.
The footsteps stop and, with them, their communications. Now it’s only their heavy and steady breathing we hear and the friction of their clothes, which makes me wonder if one of them is giving silent orders to the others. How many are there? I don’t know. Will they climb the stairs first? Once again, I don’t know. Maybe they will leave. Please, leave—leave—leave.
I shift toward Josh. I don’t know what to do to not give into this growing panic. Scratching the skin around my thumb isn’t enough to help calm me, and an old acquaintance comes back, wrapping my head in this foggy curtain—the very same one that came when Anna died in front of me on the television. And just like back then, I slowly enter a state I can’t escape. Josh gestures a hand back and forth in front of my face. I look at it. I see it…but without really seeing it. I don’t know what he means, what he wants me to do. My focus is only on the soldiers beneath us. Josh becomes insistent, his movements becoming sharper and faster. Still, I understand nothing. I should know what to do, but I can’t make the required connections in my brain. His demeanor changes; his eyebrows arch high as his eyes widen. His lips move as he gestures, and I think they’re forming words. I squint and try to read them until the words “Come here,” form clearly.
It doesn’t take more to wake me, and my brain finally makes the connection between what I see and what I should do. He wants me to come to him. I twist my head back and crane my neck over the edge of the mezzanine floor, where there is a piece of handrail missing. The soldiers are still out of sight, which probably means they are still in the hall. It’s now or never. The trick is to make it to him without a single noise.
I crouch and start moving on all fours, trying to make myself as small and noiseless as possible. The distance between us feels wide, but in reality, only a few feet separate us. That’s still too much, and I can hardly contain this feeling of loss and anxiety, making every muscle in my body ache as I move toward Josh. It’s only when I can cradle myself in his arms that I calm and start to breathe again.
Josh wraps me in his arms and presses a hand to the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. I feel the grip of the knife digging into my side as he leans over me and kisses the top of my head. The knife…
Images loop in my head; I see each and every possible scenario—we find ourselves trapped, captured, tortured, and killed in all of them. Each scene is drearier and deadlier than its predecessor, and I soon find us stuck in the middle of a long and painful torture session that ultimately leaves us skinned and drained of blood or even burned alive. Bile burns its way up my throat into my mouth, but I swallow it back.
My body jolts as sobs and tremors slowly fill my body. They’re violent, and I can’t suppress them. I try, and I fail. Josh tightens his grip around me to the point where it takes my breath away and worsens the aching in my side where the knife handle still digs in. It helps me focus on something other than our frightening reality. I prefer the pain over my fear.
Finally, I hear movement coming from the entry. Have the sold
iers decided on a plan? Or are they turning around for no particular reason? The door squeaks on its hinges, surely moved by the wind that’s howling outside. Leaves blow across the floor, and dust fills the rays of light that come from the colored windows. I crane my neck over Josh’s shoulder until I see beyond the mezzanine. Two elongated shadows appear that stretch over the floor up to the stage at the other end of the hall. The blood freezes in my veins.
They’re still out of sight, but as they move, I see their shadows shrink. It’s when they pass the first row of benches that the horror really strikes. They wear black-and-red uniforms and carry rifles with barrels the length of my whole arm, scopes fitted with gages and different settings above the bullet chamber. Little bright red lights move around the walls as the soldiers do.
“Unificators,” I murmur under my breath.
“What? Like Alastair?” Josh asks.
I nod. In an instant, the wild gleam in his eyes is gone, temporarily replaced by raw fear. I don’t know what Alastair or Dolores told Josh about them. I don’t even know what atrocities Alastair may have been involved in before changing sides. What I know, though, is that unlike regular soldiers, these are sharp-eyed, battle-tested men ready for anything, and their instincts are flawless. And they’re here for me.
A gust of wind comes from one of the broken windows, leaving a trail of cold air that raises the hair on my arm and numbs my fingertips. The door slams closed, shaking the walls and the floor. One of the unificators lets a scream escape, which grants him a deadly look from the other unificator. Maybe they aren’t as flawless and sharp as I first thought. It’s lucky that Josh and I haven’t screamed, too focused on the unificators’ actions. For a moment, all I hear is the intensifying clamor of my heart, beating in my ears like it lives there.
The red spots start waving around again, now on the back wall of the building as the unificators move down the aisle. I hope they won’t notice our footprints on the dusty floor. Josh and I hold our breath until they get to the end of the aisle. There, they split up. The leading unificator heads to the wall with the tee and the door under it which is half obstructed by the rubble and wreckage. The other unificator turns to his right and heads toward the stage to a spot hidden behind a row of columns and the corner of a wall.
I consider fleeing while the unificators are busy, but I realize that would be suicidal. Where would we leave from anyway? The main door, with all the soldiers outside? The side door, blocked by the tall planks of wood and other rubble? No. We must hold on and wait until they leave. But holding on isn’t what I’m best at, contrary to Josh, who has recovered his usual calm. How he manages to get over his fear that fast, how he can hold on at my side, I have no idea. My legs are shaking, and my knees knock together. I’m biting my inner cheek until I taste blood, scratching the skin around my thumb, and gagging on the screams that race up my throat. I’m freaking out.
There is one easy solution that could save everyone…besides me. It’s me they want. Why not surrender right now and spare Josh from getting caught, tortured, and killed?
“Sorry,” I mutter. I pull away from his arms, a simple goal in mind: make it to the stairs and go down them. I try to do it as fast as I can, but I’m not even out of his reach when he catches my hand and pulls me back close to him, wrapping his arms around me like a vice. I struggle, but it’s useless to fight. I can’t escape his grip.
“You go, I go. They find you, they find me.” He presses his lips against my ear and says in a hitching voice that betrays a vulnerability I’ve never known from him, “You die, I die.”
At the mention of dying, I straighten. My spine aches from my tailbone up to my neck. More than anything else, I fear a reality where Josh dies. Deep in my gut, I know I should fight—fight to keep him safe, even if it means sacrificing myself. But I can’t. Feeling his hold on me, knowing he’d stay by my side no matter what, fills me with a sense of safety that I hold on to. I can’t help but be consumed by the gut-wrenching feelings of guilt, selfishness, and cowardice. I should keep Josh safe, but I can’t. I don’t want to leave him. I want him by my side forever.
After a long moment, the leading unificator comes out of the debris he disappeared into earlier, his uniform covered with dust and dirt. As he gets to the stairs of the stage, the other unificator appears and takes his place behind the leading unificator. The leader turns around, and they both shake their heads and start to climb the three little steps that separate the main floor from the stage.
As they arrive at the main floor, they once again split up. The leading unificator heads straight for the side door while the other roams across the rows of benches. One by one he passes them all, crouching low enough so he can see below them. I turn my eyes from him to stare at the leading unificator, who has started picking up wooden planks and throwing them out of his way toward the side door. When I look back to the unificator by the benches, my heart stops. I stare at him as he gets up, a green-colored, rectangular-shaped thing in his hand.
The book… How is that possible? I put it back in the bag, didn’t I? Did it slip out of the bag when we flew off? However it happened, all I hear is this voice inside my head telling me, Stupid, stupid, stupid, endlessly.
I feel Josh’s breathing accelerate. My head rises up and down with his chest as he inhales and exhales, his warm breath brushing my hair. I don’t dare look at him right now.
“Sorry,” I murmur as the unificator waves the book to his companion. “It’s all my fault. They will kill us because of me.”
Josh squeezes one of my hands in his. He says nothing, but I know what he means. I risk a look at his face. He’s so serious, but when he locks eyes with me there’s a sparkle in them that changes his demeanor. He’s not mad at me, and he doesn’t hold me responsible, but the voice in my head keeps saying, Stupid, stupid, stupid. I concentrate again on the unificators below.
I don’t see the book in the unificator’s hand anymore, as he’s drawn his rifle. The buttplate is set across his right shoulder, and his cheek is resting on the heel of the stock. His finger stands ready, brushing the trigger as his other hand holds it steady by the grip under the barrel. He moves in a tactical manner, half-crouched as he walks, probably getting ready to either jump or hide. I can only watch the waving red spot. It’s hypnotizing.
Now that they’ve found the book, what else will they find? What other evidence have we left behind? The leading unificator drops a wooden plank he was holding, like he spotted something else…like a fireplace made out of rocks. He stops by it and gestures at the other unificator, who stops instantly and gives it a look. The leading unificator holds a hand over the dead fire and then slowly drops it lower and lower until he is rummaging through the ashes with his gloves.
“It’s still warm,” he says to the other one. “He was here not too long ago.”
I tilt my head back to Josh.
He?
Josh shares my surprise. His forehead is heavily creased, his eyebrows virtually touching one another. Is it possible they are searching for Josh? How would they even know about him? No, it’s impossible. But at the same time, nothing is impossible in Kamcala. We can’t take any chances.
The leading unificator picks up his rifle and draws it. He gestures some weird orders only one of which I understand: he points upstairs to where Josh and I stand. Josh’s eyes turn wild again in less than a second. I feel the grip of the knife press into my stomach. I know this will turn out badly. But badly for whom?
I stare at the leading unificator, who’s heading to the staircase. I focus on his footsteps as he passes under the mezzanine and I lose sight of him. One step. Two steps. Three steps. The waiting is unbearable. Four steps. Five steps. I think he’s on the staircase because the sound has changed. It’s muffled and reverberating faster. I’ve counted six steps when Josh pulls me toward a tall and bizarre-looking wooden box with black and white keys on its front side and tall rusted copper pipes that elevate from its top. We hide behind it and wait. Wait fo
r the soldier to come and then go? I guess. Me, I’m just waiting for this nightmare to end.
I feel like time has stopped. My heartbeat now lives behind my eyes, the way it does when I have a headache. I glance at Josh from the corner of my eye. He’s standing at the corner of the box, one hand gripping its edge while the other one holds the knife tightly, turning his knuckles white. Josh’s face is contorted in a way that tells me he’s not simply waiting for the soldier to pass by. The footsteps get closer and closer, and I can’t bring Josh back soon enough before the unificator steps onto the floor. I hold my breath. I must hold on. Leave, leave, leave…
I time myself to exhale as the unificator’s foot touches the floor so he won’t hear me. He moves carefully along the edge of the mezzanine floor, right where Josh and I stood moments ago. He keeps moving and then stops abruptly as if he’s seen something. Seconds pass before he finally turns on his heel with a scratching noise and moves farther down the wall where we just moved from. Josh twists his head toward me.
“Stay,” he mouths as he reaches a hand to me.
I hold his hand in mine and shake my head. I don’t want him to leave. The unificator will leave, I’m sure—or not.
“I love you,” he mutters, and he’s gone, out from behind this tall box and into the darkness of the shadows cast by the ceiling and the walls. Why can’t I see through this box? Why do I have to wait here, useless? Worse, why did I let him go risk his life to save me? I hate that. I hate people risking their life to save me. I hate doing nothing. I hate myself for being terrified. I hate myself for being weak. Where is he? What is he doing? Should I go and help him? What if I screw it all up?
I try to concentrate on the unificator himself, his breathing, his movements, but for now, all I hear is the faint noise of someone rummaging through the wreckage on the main floor. Besides that, everything is eerily silent. I hold my breath and listen. I hear the faint rustling of clothes and something like someone gagging. A second later, a shadow appears by my side, and a wet hand slaps over my mouth.
