by Teri Terry
Why? What do you mean?
She looks both ways, as if scared someone may be listening.
Watch for the others. They’ll come here soon. You’ll see.
CHAPTER 25
CALLIE
THE SMOKE FROM THE PYRES hangs in the still air the next morning. No trace of breeze comes to chase it away.
Shay sleeps on, exhaustion so heavy on her that I leave her in peace.
I need to get away from the heaviness, into the trees.
Chamberlain follows me out the door. I close it quietly behind us and walk at first, then as the air starts to feel a little clearer, run. We go the opposite way from the camps of the others; they’ve had pyres there too.
I have to see it. I have to see the edge. Now that Cepta’s not in my mind, will it still be there?
I race around the trees to the clearing and stop, panting, full of disappointment. The world still ends. I was so hoping I could step past this place, with the other things I can see and remember now, but no.
I lean against a tree, then sit on the ground. Chamberlain sits next to me.
There’s a butterfly dancing in the sunlight; Chamberlain suddenly launches himself into the air but misses, and I laugh.
The butterfly goes a little higher but stays in Chamberlain’s sight, almost like it is taunting him to have another go.
Then the butterfly flies ahead and vanishes where the world ends.
Chamberlain leaps after him—and he vanishes too. My stomach flips. Is he gone?
I call him, and a moment later, his head peeks back through—and it’s weird: a disembodied head out of nothing.
Hand shaking, I reach out, touch him. Scratch his ear, stroke his head and down his back.
My hand vanishes too. I’m startled and yank it back. I try to do it again—to push my hand out—but now it won’t go. There isn’t a physical wall I can feel, but when I’m looking at it and at my hand, I can’t force through it.
Butterflies and cats don’t vanish and then reappear. Somehow there is a world beyond this place; there must be—one that I can’t see.
I stand up and try to step into it, a bemused Chamberlain watching. Again and again I try, but there is something that won’t let me step into nothing.
Annoyed, I’m about to head back—when I hear something.
Distant voices? And footsteps. It seems to be coming from the nothing. I listen, and the sounds are getting gradually louder. Whoever it is seems to be getting closer.
Chamberlain went into the nothing and came back again. Whoever I can hear is coming this way.
I’m scared. Who is it? Should I run back, tell somebody? Hide?
I step deeper into the trees to watch.
The sounds get closer. Finally somebody steps out of nothing into the clearing where I was a moment ago, and then another person and another follow.
I’m relieved. I recognize them. They’re Community. The ones that left with the girl Shay called Beatriz a while ago. Are they all coming back?
No, not all. There are ten of them; there were more than that who left. And Beatriz isn’t with them.
I stay hidden, watch them walk back to Community, wondering why they have come back here now.
Does the epidemic still hang in the air with the smoke?
If it does, they shouldn’t have returned. They’ll get sick too.
PART 4
PLANETARY EVOLUTION
All things must live and die, even stars: the death of ancient stars ejected complex new elements. They combined and formed our planets. And so, life uses death for its own purposes.
—Xander, Multiverse Manifesto
CHAPTER 1
FREJA
THERE IS WARMTH, COMFORT. Peace. I wake slowly, and even when consciousness begins to find me, I don’t rush it. My eyes stay closed.
Breathing—even, close, behind me. There is the weight of an arm across me, a hand curling around my stomach.
It’s Kai.
Is this real?
If it’s a dream, I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay here forever.
But no matter how much I want it, I can’t find sleep again, and I begin to awaken more and more. I start to feel overwhelmingly like I must move, stretch, change my position a little, like there is no way I can stay completely still any longer—but I don’t want to wake him.
I’m afraid what will happen if I do.
Last night when I kissed Kai, I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t planning what would be the best thing to say or do; instead my feelings for Kai were out in the open, not hidden away like they should have been. And he held me, kissed me back, comforted me. And promised he would stay while I slept, that I’d be safe.
But the more I wake up, the more I panic inside. It was everything that happened when we were captured that made me so stupid. Being terrified what SAR would do if they worked out I was a survivor. My ill-thought-out escape plan. That soldier—I shiver in disgust inside when I think of him, his filthy hands and filthier thoughts. But the thing that sickens me more than anyone or anything else is me.
I lashed out at the soldier, hurt him. I may have been protecting myself, but I’d promised myself I would never, ever hurt anyone like that.
It makes what they think about survivors true.
It makes what they think about me true. I’m other. I’m different from them in ways they can never accept.
If I can’t accept myself, how could anybody else?
And that wasn’t all. The gun—on the ground. I took it. I had to use it, or he would have hurt me—hurt Kai too. I try to force the image of the soldier’s bloody body out of my mind.
Was it all of that—fear, shock, and pain together—that made me do the other thing I’d promised myself I would never, ever do again? There was a night in the woods, ages ago now, when Kai and I were so close to crossing beyond the line of friendship, and he said no. Never again, I’d told myself then. If anything is ever going to happen between us, it has to come from him.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight to stop the tears from escaping. I broke both promises to myself. I used my mind to hurt, and I kissed Kai.
What will happen now?
Will he open his eyes, see me, and regret that it is me in his arms, not Shay?
And it’s even worse. I never told him what she asked me to—that she was only leaving him to try to find his sister.
But she hurt him; she kept hurting him! He’s my friend; I was only protecting him.
I didn’t tell him, but it wasn’t to make this happen. It wasn’t.
I deny it to myself, but there is enough doubt casting shadows inside to torture me.
And anyway, last night changes things, doesn’t it? Because I didn’t tell him what she said, this, now—being in Kai’s arms—is the worst betrayal. One he could never forgive if he knew what I’ve done.
There is only one way forward for Kai and me. I have to tell him the truth.
But apart from that, even if he isn’t thinking of Shay anymore—and if he is here and now—will he still think that I’m not the one, not for him? He doesn’t love me; I know this. He can’t hide his aura, even if he wanted to: it’s all there. He likes me, I know this. There is a degree of care and concern—like what you feel for a friend. A word that now feels like a curse.
If Kai wakes and I see his regret, part of me will die.
And so I stay still, to prolong now, to make this moment last as long as it can.
CHAPTER 2
KAI
WHEN I WAKE UP, FREJA IS HERE, still and warm in my arms, and for a moment, I almost panic. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
How did this happen?
She stirs; she must sense I’m awake in that way she has—that all survivors have.
“Hi,” she says. She turns a little, faces me, and her eyes—
they’re not like they usually are. They’re naked. They’re full. And she’s here with me now, and part of me is convinced that is all that matters.
“Hi,” I say back.
Then she’s troubled. “There’s something—someone—we have to talk about.”
I shake my head. “No. You’re wrong about that. Shay is gone from my life; I know she is. I could never trust her again.”
She considers my words; her face has more peace than it did before. And I wonder: did I say this because it is true, or because Freja needed to hear it?
Even if. Even if I can accept I’ll never see Shay again—it doesn’t change how I feel.
But how I feel is more and more a confused mess inside.
I’m about to say something else—I don’t even know what—when Freja shakes her head.
“No,” she says. “Don’t say it. Whatever it is. This isn’t tomorrow or the day after. This is now. This is all it needs to be.”
Before my words can be found, she kisses me, and she’s right.
This is all that there is, and all that there needs to be.
CHAPTER 3
FREJA
WHEN I WAKE AGAIN KAI ISN’T HERE, and I start to panic, start to sit up. I want to run, but I don’t know to where. Then I hear sounds—water running, movement in the small kitchen next door. I settle back down where I am in this warm place to stay quiet and think.
I was going to tell him. I was. But he interrupted me; he didn’t want to talk about Shay. He said it was over.
And he kissed me back. He didn’t have to. He’d had more time to think about whether it was something he wanted to do or not, and he did. A smile curves on my lips.
Like I’ve conjured him up he opens the door, two cups in his hands.
“The pantry is mostly empty or spoiled, but I did find some tea. The power is out, but the gas is still on, so I used the stove. It’s black, though.”
I sit up against the pillows.
“Black tea is perfect. Thank you.” I feel weird, shy, like I’m being unnaturally polite and not how I should be with him. I have to get this right, I have to, but thinking it isn’t helping. I take the cup from him, not raising my eyes enough to meet his.
He sits in the chair next to the bed.
“So,” he says.
“So,” I answer. “This is weird.”
“It is, a little. Are you okay?” I sit up a bit more and turn to face him, and I’m scared of what he’s asking and why.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just all that happened yesterday, and then this.”
I frown. “This?” I look at him again, then realize what I’d missed, and grin. “No way. Seriously?”
“What?”
“You’re having a crisis of conscience. You’re worried you’ve taken advantage of poor defenseless me at a weak moment, aren’t you?”
“Have I?”
“I’m not poor or defenseless or weak. I make my own decisions.”
“Yes, I know that. But—”
“No but. Nothing to worry about, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor. Maybe I was taking advantage of you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Sure. I played maiden in distress and appealed to your protective side.” I fall back, a hand raised dramatically to my brow. “Oh, he-elp. He-elp.”
He laughs, and I know I’ve gotten it right. We’re all right. Relief floods through me.
“What happens next?” he says.
“Well. My lips are a bit tired and possibly bruised, so no more kissing for the foreseeable, if you don’t mind. But perhaps there are a few more somewhat important things we should work out.”
“Well, yes. Such as, is SAR off our trail, or do we need to run?”
“A good question. Even if they somehow manage to trail us, where do we run to?”
“Lefty all but admitted they’re wanted. We could go to the authorities, tell them where to find SAR.”
“I’m not convinced that’s a good idea for me as a survivor, though.”
“Perhaps not.” Kai leans back, thinking. “Now that I know from Lefty that it wasn’t Callie who was with us before, finding my sister, or finding out what happened to her”—pain crosses his face—“is at the top of my list.”
“Find Callie—how? Where do you start to look?”
“By finding Alex, or Xander, or whatever you want to call him. It’s got to be him: either she’ll be with him, or he’ll know where she is or what happened to her.”
“And what else is on the list?”
“I want the world to know what Alex has done,” Kai says, and the anger and hate he has for this man are plain on his face and in the way he says his words, even without seeing the black in his aura. “Alex isn’t the saint he’s always held himself out to be, that most people accept. He deliberately caused this epidemic, didn’t he? SAR backed that up. And he’s a survivor too. He may have an obituary, but he’s alive and well, and he has to pay for what he’s done.”
“All right. How about we find a way to tell the authorities about Alex and his role with SAR? Tell them where SAR can be found too—or at least where we last saw them. SAR is also hunting for Alex, so if the authorities set out to find them, they may also find Alex, and vice versa. And, as you said, finding Alex may lead you to your sister.”
“But Freja, you were right. How can we go to the authorities? You’re still a survivor. Still wanted for murder.”
I scowl. “I’m not a murderer,” I say, but then hear the lie. I didn’t kill that policeman in London I’m wanted for, but what about the soldier last night? The gun, the blood, his body are in my mind again, and this time I can’t push it away. We left too fast to be sure—but somehow I am. He’s dead. I am a murderer. I look down, hiding my eyes.
Kai takes my hand. “That was self-defense,” he says. “But they aren’t necessarily going to take our word on that. I need to go to the authorities. You don’t.”
Panic starts rising inside me again. Is he trying to get rid of me after all? Is it because of what happened last night? But I look into his eyes, study his aura, and that’s not it. There is only concern there, and it warms me.
“You can’t get rid of me so easily. But whether it is you or both of us, how can this be done? Who can we tell?”
“As a starting point, I think we should try to contact my mother.”
“Remind me again how she figures into things.”
“She’s a doctor, and a scientist—an epidemiologist. She was on the original task force looking for a cure and a way to control the epidemic. She should know who to go to with what we know. Assuming she believes me now.”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“The last time I saw her and told her about the particle accelerator and the real cause of the illness, she couldn’t accept it. I’m hoping she knows that is true by now, that she should have believed me before—that should make her listen to me now.”
“Where is she?”
“Last time I spoke to her was when I was in Glasgow—the week before we met. She was still in Newcastle then.”
“So then the next thing we should do is go to Newcastle.”
“We?”
I pretend to look at something in my hand. “My schedule is pretty open: I could probably fit in a trip to Newcastle…let’s see…after breakfast?”
“I don’t think you should come with me. It isn’t safe.”
“What—shall I hang around here instead, and wait for SAR to turn up? No thanks.”
“I don’t want you to take any more risks for me.”
“I know. But face it, Kai. Nowhere is safe right now, not for me. And I want to help.”
He’s uncomfortable. “You’re right. I know you are. It’s just…”
He shakes his head and shrugs. “Let me thi
nk.”
He pauses a moment, and I manage to resist the impulse to see what he is thinking. Then he meets my eyes. “How about this? Maybe I could get in touch with Mum, see if I can get her to meet us somewhere on our own. And not tell her you’ll be there or who you are.”
Relieved he hasn’t decided to try to stash me somewhere—not that he could—I nod. “Sounds like a plan. But get in touch—how? There’s no power here, so no internet. How about phone lines?”
“I tried it before. The line here is dead.”
“So then. We find another car and head south, toward Newcastle. Try to stay out of sight and to find internet or a phone to contact your mum along the way. Deal?”
Kai is looking back at me, considering what I said. He finally nods.
“Deal.”
CHAPTER 4
KAI
WE DO BETTER THAN A CAR: later that day we break into an auto shop up the road, and there I see what I was hoping for at last—a decent bike. I find the keys inside the door on a hook, and away we go. And with no traffic, no one manning the speed cameras, no traffic police, we go fast.
Freja pulls at my arm just as I hear it myself; there is a low sound and something approaching on the horizon. I brake, and we pull in under some trees. Soon it is close enough to see and hear that it is a helicopter. I glance at Freja and know what she’s thinking: could it be SAR, come looking for us?
But it doesn’t home in on us or seem to be checking the highway; it crosses it instead and moves on, off to business of its own. Without discussion we get off the bike to wait a little, in case it doubles back.
Freja’s crazy hair—the red grown out more, the blond catching the afternoon sun—is more of a mess than usual from the wind on the back of the bike, and I reach out a hand without thinking, start to comb it loosely with my fingers. She tilts her head a little, and then we’re kissing.
