Untitled Beauty (Somewhere-in-Between Book 1)

by C. E. Wilson

  “Don’t tell me to shut up!” I say, horrified. “Who are you?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “We can’t leave him—”

  “Will you shut up and get ready?”

  Her eyes dart to the window and I follow her gaze towards Shawn’s house, realizing I’m seeing it from the outside for the first time in weeks. And then there’s Reese. He’s running through the front yard towards the van.

  “Don’t panic. Don’t make things worse. I don’t want this all to be for nothing…” the driver says. Suddenly the front door of the house flies open and the outline of a large man holding a shotgun appears, but all I can focus on is Reese running towards the van. I want to scream and cheer, but the man in the doorway is coming out and leveling his gun.

  “Come on, Reese,” I whisper.

  “Just go!” Reese shouts, waving at the van. “Get her out!”

  “No!” I scream, vision blurring.

  “Shut up!” the driver shouts. “Go!” she shouts at Reese.

  He is running at a full sprint and is almost to the van when the first shot is fired. I scream and Reese stumbles and throws himself into the open door. His heavy body slams into me as a second shot splits the air. The tires spin as the driver slams on the gas and flies down the street.

  “Shut the door,” the woman barks at me. “Dammit, shut the door!”

  “I got it,” I say, panting hard as I maneuver around Reese to shut the door. I can barely think as I try to process all that has happened, but the woman’s voice – the stranger who is driving the van, sums it up perfectly.

  “We’re out,” she says. “We’re out.”

  I look down and a sudden fear seizes me. “Reese?” He’s barely moving and not making a sound. “Reese?” No answer. “Reese?” I cry, eyes watering. “Why isn’t he answering me?”

  “Shut up,” the driver says.

  “Why isn’t he answering me?” I can’t stop my hands from shaking. “Reese!”

  “He’s fine,” she shouts back.

  “What do you mean he’s fine?” I wail. I’m frightened. Reese isn’t moving. There’s no blood, but he’s not moving. He’s not moving! “Reese, please. Wake up.”

  “He got the wind—”

  “He’s not fine! He’s not answering!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I try to reach forward with my cuffed hands, but it’s useless. “He’s not moving. He’s dead… he’s dead—”

  “Grace,” a weak voice coughs. I freeze and blink through my tears. He’s shifting and he slowly removes his mask so I can finally see his face. Relieved amethyst eyes meet mine. “I’m fine. I just got the wind knocked outta me.”

  “You’re okay,” I say softly, coughing out a pained cry.

  “I’m okay… but you need to rest,” Reese says, sitting up in his seat. I’m surprised at how easily we switch positions in the car, and suddenly he’s the one cradling me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Wait, Grace,” Reese murmurs, now sounding hazy as my body wilts into his and my eyes close.

  The adrenaline is draining from my body, leaving in its place a void of exhaustion. As it overwhelms me, I manage to mutter the last thing on my mind. “You came back…”

  ***

  Bright, piercing light wakes me. I hold up a hand as my eyes adjust to the brightness. It’s a sunrise, the first I’ve seen in years. I’m surprised at how beautiful my surroundings are. The reds and the oranges, the yellows, and even the hint of purples. It’s astonishing.

  “You’re finally awake,” a low voice says. I lift up and turn around, noticing Reese next to me. His smile looks weary, but not pained. There’s no blood. We’re alone in a small car. There’s no sign of the van or the woman. I look down and see that I’m wearing Reese’s black trench coat.

  “Where…” I ask before Reese shakes his head.

  “She couldn’t stay,” he says vaguely, tugging at the brim of his baseball cap. It’s pulled down low, half-hiding his face.

  “But who was she?”

  He dares to smirk. “I told you my aunts were badass.”

  My eyes widen. “That… that was her?”

  “One of them.”

  My eyes drift around the vehicle almost as though I’m expecting her to leap out from under the car. “So where is she now?”

  “Everyone needs an alibi and she needs to be… not here.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he says. “It’s taken care of.”

  “How?”

  He presses his lips together. “I guess it’s safe to tell you now. You see, after I left Shawn’s yesterday I was upset. I went for a long drive and a few towns over I wrecked my car. I wasn’t hurt badly, but I was hospitalized there for twenty-four hours to be safe. That’s my whereabouts accounted for.” He smirks again.

  “You were hospitalized?” I’m not sure that I’m fully awake.

  “As a matter of fact, I’m there right now. And as soon as I can see you safely on the train, I need to be back there for real.”

  “But your aunts?” I breath, still getting over the shock of it. “That… that was really one of them?”

  “Yeah… sorry we couldn’t do better introductions,” he mutters. “For the record… they wouldn’t have done this for anyone but you.”

  “You mean they wouldn’t have done this for anyone but you.” I notice Reese looking at me with a far-off gaze. “What… what happens now?”

  “What happens now,” he says softly. He reaches into his pocket and hands over a small packet. “These are your new Registration Papers,” he explains. “I had my aunts put them together for you.”

  I take the slips and open them slowly. There I am. My papers and traveling documents. Even my numbers. I look up at Reese with a confused expression.

  “We couldn’t make you a high number, but I think fourteen is still pretty high.”

  “Won’t they stop me?” I ask. “Where will I go?”

  “It’s all been taken care of, Grace,” he says softly, pointing out to some more notes on the paper. “You’re heading north. You’ll be safer there. It’s more remote up there and your numbers won’t keep you from finding work, and if you’re smart, you won’t be brought back here.” He nods to the front window and I notice that we’re parked at a train station. I turn back and look at Reese as he hands me a bag of clothes. “These will ensure you get up north safely,” he explains. “Take them to the restroom, change, and then get on the northbound train.” He reaches forward and takes my face between his hands. “You hear me? The north train.”

  I nod. “And then what?”

  “Someone will wait for you at Plattsburgh. Your uncle…” he trails off at my expression, “… and no. He’s not your real uncle, but he’s prepared to help you. He’ll set you up with a job and if you want to be evaluated when you’re eighteen, you can be. But you don’t have to. He’ll make sure you’re safe and give you cover when they do sweeps. These numbers are as official as a forgery can be, Grace. You can go for a Twenty right now or you can lie low for awhile. It’s up to you.”

  He lowers his eyes and I trail mine over to the station. It’s a small place and hardly any cars are around. “What about you?” I ask. “What happens to you?”

  “I can’t come with you,” he says. “I have to stay here. If I leave… Paulson will think—”

  “You’re not coming with me?” I croak. “You can’t—”

  “I can’t come,” he says in a firmer voice. “If this is going to work… you have to go. Alone.”

  “And what happens to you?”

  “I…” he trails off, “… I don’t know, Grace. I just can’t go with you.”

  “So you’re sending me away?”

  “For your own safety. Paulson will look for you. So will the people who were going to buy you. If you stay, there’s always going to be a chance that they’ll catch you. And I can’t let that happen.”

  “What about how you said you wou
ldn’t lose me?”

  “I won’t,” he says. “Never again.” He slumps in the seat and reaches to take the papers away from me, folding all but one of them up. “You leaving is how it has to be. It’s the best…”

  “So I’m supposed to go live with a guy I don’t know?”

  “You’ll like him. He’ll protect you better than I can right now,” Reese says, showing me the last paper. It’s the train ticket. He tucks the rest away in the pile of clothing for me. “No one should stop you on the train, but if they do, show the papers. They’ll clear you. You’ll be safer up north.”

  “Until when?”

  “Until this messed up world changes.”

  “I don’t care about the world. I care about you.” I can’t believe he’s leaving. I can’t believe he expects me to go by myself. What will I do? “You said you wouldn’t lose me,” I say, tears coming. “You’re a liar.”

  “I’m not a liar—”

  “You’re a liar!” I shout. As he leans forward to pull me in hug, I push him away. “Don’t touch me. You’re a filthy, no-good liar. Keep your hands off me. I wouldn’t want to ruin you—”

  “Grace, it’s not like that. If you could only understand…” He’s breaking down. “This is the only way...”

  “Screw. You,” I say. I snatch the pile of clothes away from him. I cry heavily for a few moments before I suck in my sobs and open the door. I hardly notice my cuffs are gone. The car isn’t suspicious to anyone walking past. Just a guy dropping his girl off at the train station.

  “Grace, please.” Reese reaches for my arm as I step out.

  His purple eyes are glassy, but I pull away from his touch. I don’t understand anything anymore. Why go through the trouble of setting me free if he’s only going to ship me away?

  “Listen to me—”

  “No,” I say over him. “I’m done listening to you. You want me to go? You want me safe? Then I’m out of here.” I spin towards the trains. I expect him to run after me and stop me. I want him to take me in his arms and say he’ll go north with me. I want him to say he made a mistake and he’ll do anything for me. I want to melt into him. I slow slightly so I don’t reach the station right away, but Reese’s steps don’t follow. As I reach the door to the station, I turn around and look over my shoulder. I expect our eyes to meet and his smile to coax me back to him, but he’s still in the front seat of the car. He waves as he starts it up. He’s crying.

  And so am I.

  ***

  I’m calmer on the train after the first few hours. I’ve had time to think back on the craziness of the last few days, and I finally have my thoughts in order. I wish I could go back, but nothing can be done. Reese wanted this outcome. When he kept saying he wouldn’t lose me, I guess I misunderstood him, or I imagined it.

  I have a moment of panic when I hand the man my ticket, but he rips it, and hands it back without question.

  “You’ve got a long trip ahead of you,” he grunts.

  “How long?” I ask. It’s strange to hear my voice talking to people like I’m an equal.

  “About sixteen hours,” he says. “There’s a free snack bar in the back of the car. They serve lunch in a few hours and dinner around eight. Can I get you a drink or something to eat?”

  “Oh… uh… no,” I mutter, tucking myself deeper into the upholstered seat. I can’t believe how soft it is. I haven’t sat on a soft chair in years and for a moment I almost feel like a normal person. I’m not as angry with Reese as I was earlier. At least, I understand why sending me away makes sense… even if I don’t agree.

  And that doesn’t mean that I don’t miss him.

  After a few hours of staring out the window at the snow-covered landscape, I decide to have a look at my Registration Papers. I’ve seen many forged papers over the years, but until now I’d never seen a perfect forgery. Right texture, right font, right seals, right watermarks. Perfection. Reese’s aunts were more powerful than I thought. No one would even think to question these. They were even artificially aged.

  It’ll be good to get up north.

  In the packet there’s also a letter from a doctor I’d never heard of that prescribes a few minor changes. Modification of my hair color and my eye color. But nothing else. No limb lengthening. No work done to my nose. No work done to my body. Only my hair and eyes. I wonder what I’ll look like with reddish brown hair and white highlights. I look forward to having greener eyes. I don’t care if they’ll never be as bright as Celia’s because I know they’ll be mine. I’ll finally belong to me.

  “Mrs. Wynters?” a voice asks overhead.

  I jerk up to find the same man from before. “W-what?” I ask, clearing my throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m not… I mean I—”

  “Mrs. Wynters,” he says. “You are Mrs. Wynters, correct?” He points a meaty finger at the paperwork in my hands. I glance down and actually read the name on the document.

  Mrs. Pieces G. Wynters

  “Yes,” I say, a stupid grin fighting its way onto my face. “Is everything okay?”

  “You looked like you could use some water,” he says, handing me a plastic bottle. “Didn’t mean to make assumptions—”

  “It’s fine,” I say, opening the bottle and taking a long drink. It tastes good. Cold. Clean. “Thank you.”

  He smiles back and nods. “Not a problem, Mrs. Wynters. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

  I watch him go and try to contain my suspiciously large smile. Mrs. Wynters.

  Suddenly, even knowing that with each heavy jolt of the traveling train, I’m being pulled farther away from Reese, I don’t feel as if I’m losing him. I feel like I’m getting closer.

  I hold the paper up to my chest and close my eyes, allowing myself to relax at long last.

  I may never see him again, but I know what he’s risked for me. I may never get to thank him in person, but he’ll always have the biggest part of my heart. I love him too much. I still want him. I still want to see him, but I try to tell myself separating is the best ending for both of us. This is what he wants, and knowing that, I realize I’m no longer sad.

  I’m free.

  I’m finally free.

  Epilogue

  “You have work today?” a shorter man asks as I nod in response.

  I look over at a man in his mid-forties and curtly nod. His hair is light blue, but unlike Shawn’s, there’s a few gray – not silver – streaks, hinting at his age and maturity. He knows how to survive. Reese was right – Clark has kept me safe and comfortable for over two years now. I’m trying to save up enough money to get my own place, but it’s tough. Complete independence isn’t easy as a Fourteen with no family, but I’m able to hold down a decent job working at a restaurant in town.

  “Always watch your back,” Clark grunts as he tugs on a loose tie around his button-down shirt. “I won’t be able to pick you up today. Bastards have me working late tonight.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I say though I am a little apprehensive. I like how Clark picks me up after a shift. How I can always count on his old hatchback to make sure I get home safely. After two years, I shouldn’t be so nervous, but I can’t help that I have a recurring nightmare of turning a corner and finding Paulson with a leash and collar in his soft, apple scented hands.

  “Do you want me to have someone pick you up?” Clark asks, sensing my hesitation.

  I wave him off. “I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can handle the walk to the bus stop and back to the house again.”

  He grunts in response, but doesn’t argue. He rarely does. It’s a nice change from all the other people I’ve been with over the years. Clark worries, but doesn’t treat me like a possession. He likes to know where I am, but he doesn’t stop me from where I want to go. He seems to learn about raids in advance.

  Raids are the newest thing. Grave Marketers sneak around towns pretending to be cops and demanding paperwork. If they learn that you’re not a Beauty and you don’t have an owner close at hand, you�
��re likely to be back in chains before you can blink.

  “If anyone questions you, you tell them to call me,” Clark calls over his shoulder. “Come on, I gotta drop you off.”

  I smile and quickly walk behind him. “Yes, sir.”

  He snorts. “I told you not to call me that.”

  ***

  My job isn’t fancy, but it’s mine. I mainly work in the back and take care of the garbage. Someone of my lowly status is lucky to even have a job. They won’t let me work the front of the house or wait on customers, but I’m okay working in the back. The less people who see me on a regular basis, the better. Washing plates from Northerners eating during their travels is a job I’ve learned to love. Each plate means a few more cents and each day means an extra dollar or two. And weeks turn into months and months turn into years. I know Paulson has probably long forgotten ‘Eleven’, but he still haunts my dreams and kisses me in my nightmares.

  I can’t shake him off, but I can’t shake Reese, either.

  After I moved in with Clark, I expected to have some sort of contact with Pieces/Reese, but nothing came. Not a phone call. Not a letter. Nothing. Clark tells me to stop pining over him but I can’t. I’m nervous in my new surroundings. I won’t accept date offers from other guys, and I’ve had too many of my few acquaintances disappear suddenly.

  At home, I’m safe. Everywhere else is dangerous.

  I still think about what I could have done differently with Reese that morning in the car. I should have thanked him. I should have hugged him. I should have done everything to show gratitude and begged him to come with me. Instead, I acted ungrateful and selfish. I practically told him I hated him. I called him a liar.

  Those words also haunt me.

  I want to see him one more time to give a proper thank you. I wouldn’t try to ask him for his forgiveness. I wouldn’t even ask him to stay here in this burgh. I want… I scrub the plates harder and try not to think about it. It’s been too long. I worry that I can barely remember his face. I can hardly remember the uniform he used to wear when he would come to visit me. All I can remember clearly are his eyes. His eyes never changed. When he was Pieces. When he was Reese. He always had those intelligent and alert purple eyes.