by T. C. Edge
Adryan answers the question before I can utter it.
“You’re OK, Brie,” he says, drawing my eye. “You’re just fine. A couple of broken rips, a bad concussion.” He smiles sympathetically, and squeezes my hand again. “We’re in the HQ. We’re safe now.”
My eyes are half buried beneath a frown. I think of the last images I can recall.
“What…what happened?” I ask. “Cromwell. He…”
“He’s here,” answers my grandmother. “He’s right outside.”
I lose air from my lungs at the thought.
“What? He’s here?”
I sit up, my head throbbing and chest aching. A bout of dizziness engulfs me.
“Don’t move about too much,” says Adryan, settling me. “You need your rest.”
I nod, and turn my eyes to the door.
“Why is he here?” I look at my grandmother again. “Has he…taken charge? Has he taken back the city?”
She shakes her head gently.
“No. He…he saved us, Brie.” She frowns, thinking to herself. “He never attacked. His men, his Stalkers…they came for us, for the convoy. The Cure were hunting us down. Hundreds of them. We were caught before we could leave the city. We were being slaughtered. And then…his people came.”
“But the Cure were attacking us, in the west?” I say.
She nods.
“Yes, most of them. But they sent others east to kill us. Artemis’ men stopped them, just like they did with you.”
I lower my eyes.
“It makes no sense,” I whisper to myself. “We heard…we heard those guards at the REEF. These Stalkers were meant to kill us, not save us. Zander and I…”
I shut my eyes at saying his name. Behind my lids, in the blackness, I think I hear an echoing voice once more.
Be strong, Brie. Don’t cry…
I open my eyes, my calm restored.
“I just don’t understand,” I whisper.
A silence falls. Then, my eyes open wide, sending a fresh pulse of pain through my head at the sudden flow of light. I look at my grandmother, and then at Adryan.
“Brenda. Tess. Abby…” I start.
“Shhhh, it’s OK,” says Adryan. “They’re safe. They’re all safe.”
“All? All the kids? And…and Sophie? Leyton? What about Drum?!”
Adryan smiles.
“All of them,” he says. “Drum found us. He told us what you did for him.”
My pulse rate begins to soften and slow again. Some streak of joy cuts through the curtain of my mind, lighting the darkness. I allow myself a smile before I withdraw it. As I think of my dear friends, tears of relief threaten to gather, quickly overtaken by the face of Zander once more. And those tears of relief turn to tears of pain.
I blink hard, and take a long breath.
Then I look at my grandmother.
“It’s my fault,” I croak, my eyes sunken. “I made him go back out there. If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be…” I shake my head and grit my teeth. “I’m…so sorry, grandma.”
I fee my grazed chin softly touched by leathery fingers. My head is gently tilted up. I see tears trickling down my grandmother’s face as I meet eyes with her, ashamed.
“Zander was always the hero,” she says. “He would have gone anyway, my darling.”
“But, you don’t understand. I persuaded him to go. And…out there, he saved me. He saved me so many times. It’s my fault…”
“No.” Her voice is loud, a thunderstrike in that quiet room. It cuts my words off at their source. She takes a second, the tears on her cheeks quickly drying. “Don’t ever blame yourself, Brie,” she says. “Never, not once. If there’s someone to blame, it’s me. I should never have allowed either of you to be put in harms way so often.”
“You had no choice,” I say, shaking my head. “You…were trying to save the city.”
“And failing,” she says. “It was Artemis who saved it in the end…”
A quiet dawns again, the thudding in my head a constant burden. I want to sleep, to forget. I want to lie here, alone, and return to my nightmares. Maybe, somewhere in there, with all the demons and spectres, with all the people I’ve killed and seen die, my brother awaits. Only in my mind can I see him again now. Only there, somewhere in the darkness, can I find him.
As though he knows what I’m thinking, Adryan breaks the silence.
“You should rest, Brie,” he says. He looks across the bed. “Lady Orlando, I can tell Director Cromwell that Brie needs more time.”
She nods sombrely, and he stands. He takes a step towards the door, and she bends down to kiss my forehead.
“Sleep now, darling. We will talk again later.”
She unbends her old body, and I look again at Adryan, reaching for the handle.
He’s out there now, right outside. My grandfather, who killed so many, saved so many. I don’t understand him. I don’t trust him. I need to know what he wants.
“Stop,” I say.
Adryan turns to me.
I sit up a little higher on the bed, hiding the grimace of discomfort that wants to express itself on my face. I set my eyes firm, and draw a breath.
“It’s OK,” I say. “I want to see him now.”
My two companions share a querying look.
“Are you sure?” asks Adryan.
I nod, my pulse rate spiking.
“I’m sure.”
They hesitate for just a moment, before moving for the exit. Adryan opens the door up, letting a flow of noise spread inside. I catch sight of black armour, guards standing outside. My grandmother offers me a final, comforting look, before she passes the threshold, followed quickly behind by Adryan.
I wait now, my breathing short, my fingers fidgeting. I feel the hate boil in me again, and look left and right, inspecting the room. Searching for some tray of utensils and tools. A surgical knife or scalpel. A sharp object of some kind. Anything that could be used to end this man’s life.
I see nothing, the room bare but for a few pieces of medical equipment, and a couple of chairs for visitors to sit on. I turn back to the door, left ajar, and hear a short conversation take place. I’m sure I catch my grandfather’s tone within it, the sound causing a sharp breath to enter my lungs.
Then, the talking fades, and I hear several footsteps as a figure comes near. The door begins to open gently, and standing there I see him. He looks at me briefly, his eyes hooded. Then he steps inside and shuts the door tight, blocking out the flow of sound.
Now, there’s no noise but for my breathing. It’s thick and slightly laboured as I try to get ahold of it. I stare at him as he stands there, his back to me, taking a moment to himself. Then he turns, and as I did in the west, I see a show of pain in his eyes.
“Brie,” he whispers. “How…how are you feeling?”
I don’t know how to answer the question. I don’t even know what it means. Does he want to know about my physical state? My mental wellbeing? Does he really think I’m convinced by this? That he actually cares?
I look away, and don’t answer. Through the corner of my eye, I see him nodding.
“Stupid question. I’m sorry.”
He ventures closer, too close.
I glare back at him, and he stops in his tracks. He lifts a single hand in apology, looking so awkward, so lost, as if he has no idea what to say. I inspect him, and feel a portion of my anger subside. Can this be an act of contrition? Can this be…real?
I choose to break the silence myself.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask.
He turns his eyes to me again.
“I did, yes. Do you mind if I sit down?”
I frown, and look at the chair to his left.
“Go ahead.”
He does so, moving the chair a little so its close enough to me, but not so much that I’ll lash out again. He settles his hands on his lap, his feet planted to the floor, his back straight. His posture is perfect, and typical of a Savant. Yet there rema
ins far more to his face, to his expression, than I’ve ever seen.
He takes a breath, still struggling to look directly at me. When he does, his eyes penetrate me deep, searching beyond mine, seeming to look back into the past.
“I’ve…done terrible things,” he whispers. “Unforgivable things…”
A memory stirs in me as I look upon him. A memory so recent, and so stark. That of the Stalker who died before my eyes, who seemed to realise what he was at the moment of his death. I saw the pain in him, thinking of the terrible things he’d done, flooding him as his final, fleeting seconds came and went.
And now…now I see something similar in my grandfather. His words croak out with great guilt and shame. His eyes carry the frame of deep sorrow.
“I know you will never be able to forgive me,” he says. “I will never be able to forgive myself. Your mother, and your father…I wish things were different. Yes, Brie,” he says, seeing my eyes dilate. “Yes, I know who you are. My daughter’s child. My granddaughter. I am so sorry for what happened to Zander…”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Don’t,” I growl. “Just…don’t.”
“But I…I have to. I have to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I whisper harshly, my eyes still shut. “My family…my family are dead because of you.”
“Not…all of them,” he says hesitantly. I open my eyes, and glower at him again. “You have your grandmother,” he adds.
“And you?” I say, grinding my teeth.
He shakes his head.
“No. I know I could never…”
“No! You couldn’t!” I shout. I slam my eyes shut, the pain throbbing through my head again. “Why are you here! Why!”
The sudden noise causes the door to open. I hear Adryan’s voice, and open my eyes.
He’s looking right at me.
“Brie…are you all right? Do you want Director Cromwell to leave?”
My grandfather sits there quietly. I stare at him, and shake my head.
“It’s…OK,” I say. “I’m OK.”
“Are you sure? I could stay, if you want?”
I lift a hand.
“No, Adryan. Please, it’s fine.”
He drifts out of the room again, casting a suspicious eye over Cromwell. As soon as the door shuts, I shake my head and huff.
“Director…” I say. “Is that what you want? You want to be Director again? Are you here to get us onside, so you can betray us down the line?”
He looks horrified by the suggestion.
“No, no of course not. I understand my position, Brie. This city has seen so much bloodshed. It won’t see any more.”
“Yeah…bloodshed. And yet, you came just in time, didn’t you,” I say sarcastically. “Just in time to save the day, when we were about to be destroyed, when all of us were about to die. What perfect timing for you. And now, here you are, back at the HQ, with all your brand new Stalkers…oh, it’s only a matter of time before you take control again.”
He listens carefully, letting me vent. I spit venom at him, hating him. Wishing I’d never saved his life, that his Stalkers had never come. That I could have been taken by the Cure as well, along with my brother.
“I understand how you feel,” he says once I’m done. “I know you doubt me. Of course you do, after everything that’s happened. But I came as soon as I could, as soon as my men were ready, as soon as the odds were in their favour to end this threat, once and for all. Thousands, tens of thousands of civilians were saved. And hundreds of soldiers too. No more will die. The war is done.”
“Done,” I nod. “And you’re the hero…”
“No. I am far from that,” he says. “You and your brother are the…”
“Don’t pander to me. Don’t speak of him,” I snap. “You should have got there earlier. You should have saved him…”
The room falls into silence, and I cringe in pain again. He seems to consider his next words carefully. And as he does, I glance into his eyes, and pass into his mind. The landscape within is vast, and though it sends a horrible ache through me to enter, I see no deceit in him. I see no lie. I see, instead, a throb of anguish, a deep sorrow.
I withdraw, hating what I see, what I feel. Hating that I may believe this is real for even a second.
I turn away from him, looking to the other side of the room. I hear him rise from his chair and inch towards me.
“I never got to thank you for saving my life,” he whispers. “Not properly. I…I remember the river. I remember the water. And…drowning. I remember the light, growing, as I stepped towards it. Then…it faded away, and I saw his face. Your brother. My grandson. He brought me back, Brie. I was dead, and he brought me back.”
I find myself turning to him slowly as he speaks. I watch him recount the story, his eyes telling it all on their own. I snipe into his head again and see the memory of it. I see it play out from his consciousness. I see the darkness consuming him, the rushing water. And then the light, burgeoning, beckoning him forward. I see it as he did, fading, changing as Zander’s face takes shape. My wonderful brother, refusing to let him die.
I see it all, untampered with, unchanged. A pure memory, a clear memory, so powerful now among his thoughts. It has changed him, his temporary death rewiring his mind. As with Adryan, losing his wife. As with my grandmother, finding and then losing her daughter. As with that Stalker, his humanity set free as his life was taken away.
Such events can change a Savant. And my grandfather has been changed.
I retreat from his head again, and see now his eyes. They’re wet, covered in a sheen of tears. He’s close to me, so close. I look at him and feel a weakness overtaking me, my hatred for him being overwhelmed by something else, something I can’t explain and don’t understand.
I shift away. I want to hate him still.
“I watched you die,” I say. “I wish he’d never brought you back.”
My grandfather takes a half step backwards, the space between us growing again.
“I know. I know you do.”
“He did it because of your lies,” I go on. “He didn’t care about you. He did it because he thought your death would unleash your men.” I shake my head. “What sort of man holds innocent people to ransom like that? What sort of man could do such a thing?”
“A terrible man,” he breathes. “A blind man. I only thought of my people, of the Savants. I have had my eyes opened, Brie. And I see now what I was, everything I did. I see it…and I feel it. I cannot express how sorry I am.”
He sinks again into his chair, no longer perfect in his posture, but splayed out. He leans his elbow to the armrest, and places his forehead to his palm, shielding himself, hiding away. He takes a breath and regains his composure, and looks up at me again as I speak.
“So you heard from your guards at the REEF?” I ask, more softly now. “They overheard us speaking about you being our…grandfather. They told you. That’s how you know?”
He nods.
“I think I knew…I knew something before then. But, it wasn’t me. It didn’t register. After the drowning, I was taken to the REEF by my men to recover. They told me you’d been there. They said you’d overheard them speaking about the Stalkers.”
“The secret force,” I nod. “That was going to be used to destroy us.” I think back, recounting what happened. “We…were chased away,” I say. “But they never followed. It makes sense now…”
“Yes. I didn’t want you chased or hurt in the confusion. I was confused myself. I can’t explain it, the change. I’m filled with…regret.”
He looks at me again, his old body tightening up.
“My own daughter. I had my own daughter killed…”
His voice cracks, and I feel a horrible instinct to move from the bed, to lay a hand on him for comfort. I resist the urge, and try to imagine all this as lies. Try to think that he’s just acting, just manipulating me. I try my hardest, but it’s not enough.
I know full well that this is real.
The room falls silent. I look at him with a crinkled brow, and then turn away. I think I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to hear anymore, think anymore.
“I think you should go,” I say.
He hangs his head and nods.
“You’re right. You need to rest. I just…”
He looks at me again and takes a short pace forward.
“What is it, Artemis?” I ask blankly. It’s as though I’m now the Savant, cold and detached, and he’s the fragile, emotional being, the sort he never cared for, always trampled upon and used for his own gain.
“I know you will never forgive me,” he says. “I know you will always hate me. But…I just wanted to explain. I needed to explain. I…”
“You have,” I say, cutting him off. “You’ve explained yourself. I understand. And now, I need to rest.”
He tries to raise a smile, an expression that’s never been natural for him. Now, it remains so, yet unnatural for a different reason. He’s trying to show me he really is different, that he really does care. Maybe he is. Maybe he does.
But I’m the same. And I don’t care about him.
And never will.
I stare at him until he leaves, until he opens the door and shuffles through, just an old man in a white suit. A man who has ruined so many lives, and will now have to live with that burden. What will happen to him now, I don’t know.
And right now, I don’t care.
I just want to rest. I just want to sleep. I just want to enter my nightmares and seek out my brother, somewhere in there, waiting for me.
And as he shuts the door, and I’m left in silence, I lie there, numb and unmoving. Staring at the door. Empty.
Until I fall asleep.
289
I spend much of the next two days alone.
I sleep intermittently, my head aching each time I wake. When I do, and I feel a presence in the room, Adryan or my grandmother, or someone else come to visit me, I pretend I’m still asleep. I let my eyes flicker, before fading shut again. Only when I know I’m alone do I open them fully.
