by A. K. Koonce
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
This morning I watched the sunlight filter over Alexandra’s face. I cling to that image as I stare up at the unyielding woman before me, the woman who holds my fate in her slender hands. I left my bed too soon. I should have stayed longer. I should have stayed there the rest of my life in the safety of our happiness. I should have stayed and watched her look up at me, watched the memory of last night dance through her eyes. I should have told her I loved her. I should have explained everything to her.
But I didn’t. I ducked out before she woke up like the coward I am. I paced through the forest, trying to figure out what the fuck I’m doing with my life. With her life. I paced past the temple at least a dozen times, not even looking at it, but feeling it all around me. And now here I stand within it. Just hours after nightfall, and I’m here begging for redemption on Resurrection Island.
Felicity admires her nails, taking her time, assessing each finger, before drifting her eyes back to me.
“I’ll grant you your release from here.”
My heart leaps from my chest at the thought of her words. Her consent was so easily given. What does she want?
“On one condition.”
There it is.
“You bring me one hundred grievances by the sight of the first full moon. One hundred accepting grievances, and I’ll let you sail away from here to any time period you choose. You’ll live, you’ll age, you’ll die. Is that what you want, Remington?”
She’s offering me life. Real life, not Resurrection life, not the shithole life I lived. Real life.
And I want more.
“I want Alexandra to have the same offer,” I say, my eyes hard as I look at her through the thick white smoke that claws at my lungs.
A smile pulls at one side of her full lips. Less than a minute passes before she responds.
“Of course. Two human lives in exchange for one hundred grievances is more than fair.” She smiles, a mixture of beauty and cryptic imagery. “Once you return, I’ll give Alexandra the same offer in exchange for one hundred grievances.”
My eyes shift, thinking through her words. Is she toying with me? What am I missing?
“One hundred, and Alexandra and I can leave without repercussion?”
“Remington, your time starts now. I meant what I said. An offer will be given to both yourself and Alexandra.” She leans forward, her sharp features glaring down at me. “Now go,” she says, her voice echoing around the room as thunder rumbles outside.
One hundred lives. I think through history, trying to scour my memory for the worst tragedies the world has to offer. War comes quickly to my mind, but mass deaths don't mean a lifetime of tragedy.
I soar through the terrain, a flash of vines and leaves whipping at my flying body. I reach the ship in seconds, my boots running loudly along the deck, stomping up to Lucas like I’m the winner of a one-man race.
“Pack your shit. Let’s go,” I say, doing a quick assessment of the ship.
“It’s the middle of the night, Rem. No one is even on board. What’s your problem?” he says with a confused smile.
Why is he always smiling? Does the kid never have anything but happiness surrounding his mind? If I hadn’t saved him myself I never would have guessed he lived a life of remorse.
“Just me and you. Felicity just assigned a new task. There won’t be room for the rest of the crew anyway. We’re picking up one hundred Survivors,” I say, looking up at the nearly full moon that shines down on us. We have three days, tops.
“A hundred? Are you fucking crazy? That’ll take us a month at least.”
“We don’t have a month.” I wouldn’t trust Felicity alone with Alexandra for a month; three days is long enough. “How about we leave the statistics to me,” I say, bumping my elbow into his arm.
He watches me, trying to figure out what’s really going on. I glance at him as I check the supplies on deck. Finally, he nods his head at me, agreeing to a mission I never consulted him on. He’d never let me go on my own, and my heart lightens a little with just the thought of him being here with me.
“I’m going to go tell Cali goodbye. You should talk to Alex. She’s been asking about you,” he says, his words lingering around me, waiting for my acknowledgment.
I don’t turn to him. I don’t nod or even look his way.
I should talk to her. I’m not an idiot. I know I should.
After a few moments pass in silence, I hear his boots against the deck, fading away until he’s gone.
I’m alone. Just the nearly full moon and myself waiting around for the pain I’m about to put myself through in hopes of saving my own life. In hopes of saving hers.
I exhale slowly, trying to calm my growing anxiety.
“I thought you were a gentlemen, Remy.”
I turn at the sound of Alexandra’s voice.
She leans casually against the frame of the ship, her blonde hair whipping in the light breeze. It’s late, and she should be wearing a coat, but she isn’t, of course. Her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, the thin material of her summer dress doing little to warm her. The stars highlight her beautiful face like she’s an angel calling up to heaven.
My eyes drift over her body, noting every soft curve I’ve touched. I’ve cursed her; I cursed her the moment she laid eyes on me. Because of my own fucking selfish behavior, she’ll stay when she knows deep down she shouldn’t. She feels the unnatural nature of this island, but she’ll stay anyway. For me.
The pain in my chest explodes, heavy pieces drifting through my stomach, settling at the bottom like lead.
“I wasn’t running away,” I say quietly.
Her eyebrows raise a fraction.
“I—” She pauses, looking to the sea for words to say. “When I woke up, you weren’t there,” she says, not meeting my eyes. I can see her swallow hard, like she’s just barely holding herself together. The Island is affecting her.
I’m affecting her.
My lips part, wanting to speak, but I’m unable. My heart hammers painfully in my chest, angry at myself for what she’s feeling because of me. Why am I always such a screw-up?
I walk to her, leaning next to her, wanting to wrap my arms around her, but unsure if I should. How did we get here? How did I fuck this up so badly? I promised her the future, and I left before the present was even settled.
“I’m going to get us out of here, Alexandra. I—I don’t know how to explain myself sometimes. I’m sorry. I should have told you,” I say, my gaze boring into the side of her face, trying to will her to look at me.
Fuck, please just look at me.
But she isn’t my ship. She isn’t a piece of this island I can forcibly guide through life. Or maybe she is. I led her to here, didn’t I? But if she was, I’d be able to lead her away as well. And I can’t. Alexandra is a force all on her own. A force I met head on, face to face, atop a tower. And she took us both down.
“I had a meeting with Felicity.” She glances up at me, her eyes like pieces of the sea. I have her attention now. “We’re leaving when I return. You and I. If you want.” I pause and then add, “To go. With me.” Fuck, I’m a stuttering idiot around her. She might not even want to go with me now.
Her eyes are damp, but I know she’ll never cry. Not again. Part of me understands why she holds it in, letting the pain push against her, feeling stronger and in control by containing it. But my understanding doesn’t stop my heart from thrashing sense into me. This time I’m the source of her pain. And if she stays I’ll be the source of her pain for the rest of her long, endless life here.
I won’t let that happen. I can save her.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity she nods. One small gesture that seems to stir up millions of emotions within me.
I’ve never been happy in my entire life. Until I met her.
I slip my hands around her waist, not caring if she wants me to or not. I just need to comfort us both. My hands lock a
round her, but she doesn’t move into me. She remains leaning against the ship, her arms holding herself, while I’m wrapped around her side. I lean my head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, her long hair pulling at me, and sticking to the stubble along my jaw.
“When I come back, it’ll be different. Everything will be so much different when I come back.”
My promises are said in a rushed breath against her neck as her chest heaves shakily with unshed tears. She’s so small and fragile in my arms. Resurrection would break her if she stayed.
“Be careful,” she whispers, leaning her head against mine. She closes her glossy eyes, her damp lashes fluttering against her cheeks.
My lips graze against hers lightly, wanting to reassure her of every unsure thing floating through her mind.
But I can’t. Because as beautiful as Resurrection Island appears to be, everything is most certainly not okay.
***
As we sail through the sea, the ship begins ascending carefully from the ocean, the clinging water raining down from the frame.
Lucas hasn’t said a word to me since we left. He hasn’t laughed, or joked, or even asked any annoying questions yet. His silence has a strange effect on me, almost making me edgier than his normal perpetual banter does.
“If we need to gather one hundred Survivors, where s—”
“She died, Rem.” His voice is loud and confessional like.
His dark eyes bore into the clean deck, holding a look of emptiness and fear. He sits behind me, his arms hanging lifelessly between his legs like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself together anymore.
“Who died?” I ask cautiously, barely keeping my attention on the dark sky we’re gently sailing into.
His mouth hangs open, and his chest heaves for air. “Cali …”
I know what he’s about to say before he says it. I close my eyes and then slowly open them. My friend who has always been the happiest person I’ve ever met is the farthest thing from it right now. I could murder Felicity for choosing Cali. Anger boils through me. My fist tightens, and I have to concentrate to open and steady my hand again.
He swallows hard, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He wipes his hand roughly down his face. “When I went into her room, she was cold. She was so cold. Her skin …” His breath shakes as he tries to speak. “It was rotting. I saw her this morning. She was beautiful and even laughing. She was fine. I—” His voice breaks. He swallows hard before continuing. “I thought she was just sick … I wanted to believe she was just sick, Rem.”
My heart plummets in my chest. She was fine just days ago.
No one ever gets sick on Resurrection. They come down from the high the Island offers them. It can take years; the longest I’ve ever seen an islander last is eight years. The crew that works with the Saviors are different. They leave Resurrection on a regular basis, take in fresh air; they drink from places that aren't diluted with pain. The Island isn’t directly feeding off of them.
Cali had been here a while, five years maybe. She was our go-to person for making the newcomers feel welcome. She was great at it. She was sweet and happy, a postcard for the vacation package Resurrection Island tries to sell.
And now she’s gone.
Someday, in the next hundred years or so, Lucas will be gone as well. If I screw this up tonight, eventually it’ll just be me, and Johnny, a few other Saviors, and fucking Felicity for the rest of my dwelling life on Resurrection Island.
I slump down next to him, the sleeve of my coat brushing against his. Lucas has lost a lot. He’s even lost his life. And now Resurrection has taken one more thing from him, trying to break him just enough to destroy the person he is. Tearing away another little piece of his heart and pushing him to fall faster. Targeting him as the next victim.
***
“Where are we?” Lucas asks, looking around at the ominous, raging sea below us.
His voice still sounds empty and dejected, void of any emotion whatsoever. My jaw tightens, and I can’t look at him. I can’t bear to hear my friend so … lifeless.
A single ship is being thrown about like a beach ball in the crashing waves.
“We’re looking at the beautifully tragic end of the Children’s Crusades.”
Lucas’ tired eyes assess the scene before us, his brows lowering in confusion. “The Children’s Crusades? The religious movement led by kids? I thought that was just a legend.”
My heart sinks even further in my chest, secluding itself from any more emotions.
History always has its way of forgetting the bad and highlighting the good. But there’s too much darkness in the world to only remember the light.
“The kids, mostly orphans and poverty-ridden children, headed in masses to the Mediterranean Sea. They said it would part upon their arrival, granting them access to the Holy Land.”
“Didn’t happen, huh?” Lucas watches the kids screaming out against the whipping wind and heaps of water terrorizing their ship.
“Not exactly. The sea didn’t budge. Some asshole picked them, offering them passage for their spiritual journey.” My heart pounds thinking about the knowledge that filtered into my mind the moment I thought about coming here. All the terrible lives flashed before my eyes, vanishing into my memories as if they were my own. “He takes one ship and sells the kids into slavery, and the other ship, the one below, is destroyed in a shipwreck.”
Lucas’ brows raise high. We both watch and wait for the end we know is coming.
I hate this. I always hate watching, and waiting, and feeling someone’s death, but I hate it more when it is children. I avoid it as much as possible, but it happens whether I’m here or not. These kids have been through more pain and abandonment than anyone should ever have to feel. They just wanted something to believe in. They wanted to live for something and hold on to that special euphoric feeling their lives so infrequently held.
Thunder sounds as lightning illuminates the sky around us. The screams and crying stops as a death like pain strikes through my chest and amplifies by the second. I fall hard to my knees, seeing spots of black and white clouding my vision. My chest feels like its breaking open from the inside out. Pain and panic swirl through me as I slowly fade from consciousness. I should never have agreed to this. This is why Felicity’s offer came so willingly.
She knew I’d never survive the agony of a hundred deaths.
CHAPTER TWENTY
An Assassination
Remy
It’s quiet when I open my eyes, blinking up into a bright white light. It’s a calming light. Warm against my face and so blinding I almost close my eyes again to fade away once more.
Am I dead?
Finally?
“I couldn’t move your heavy ass, so if you end up with a sunburn it’s your own fucking fault.”
Definitely not dead.
Lucas looks down at me, his shaggy, unruly hair sticking up at all angles, blocking the sun from my view.
It hurts every time I breathe. My chest is heavy and full, and my head throbs like it might split open from the inside out.
Definitely not dead.
“You took in hundreds of Survivors, you fucking idiot. You should be dead. It took me all night to get them on board, and you’ve been out for days. Left me there babysitting hundreds of biblical brats …” He pulls his beanie from his head, pushing his hair roughly from his face. “I thought you were dead, man. I thought you left me, too.” His anger and panic fade away, replaced by a look of worry as he takes a deep shaking breath.
He offers me his hand, and pain shoots through my chest as he heaves me up from my near death experience.
“I need to see Felicity,” I say, breathing hard through the building agony.
I need to get to the Grave immediately; I need to release everything that’s happened. My heart pounds loudly but it’s a slow melody, pushing itself hard just to find a dull rhythm. Lucas drapes my arm around his shoulder and drags me off the ship.
As soon as we’re at the shore, Johnny strides up to us, his ever present calm and knowing face looking down at me. He roughly takes my arm, pulling me from Lucas’ side and working quickly to fly us through the dense forest. Within seconds he’s pushing open the heavy doors of the temple.
Johnny helps carry me into the room, my boots half dragging, half walking across the floor. His kindness is forced, like he’s waiting for something else to happen. What more does he want? I’m fucking hanging onto my life by a thread.
He lingers in the shadows near the wide double doors. Two guards flank his side. My posture is slouched as I stand waiting for her entrance.
Just get the fuck on with it already, Felicity. I get it. You’re the Great and Powerful Oz of Resurrection. Just cut to the chase already before I die in a heap of pain and anger on your sparkling floor.
She sways into the room, gliding to her chair as if she’s weightless.
The doors burst open behind me, and I turn slowly, stumbling on my feet. Alexandra strides casually past the guards, coming to stand quietly by my side. Her hands are tucked professionally behind her back, and her attention is steady and respectful as she looks up at my Priestess.
What mind numbing bullshit has Felicity subjected her to?
“Good Morning, Remington. How are you feeling today?” Felicity asks with a bright and conniving smile.
“Like shit. Yourself?” I say with a groan.
“Quite well, thank you for asking.” Her eyes gleam, her lips set in a tight smile as if she’s shielding fangs behind her sensual lips.
My mind jumps to conclusion after conclusion as I watch Alexandra in my peripheral vision. With only the candle light around us, her face is made up of shadows and … worry.
“Remy?” I hear Alexandra whisper, and the sadness in her voice hurts my heart. I attempt to stand up straight and hide the agony I’m feeling.
A grin pulls across her lips, and I’m smiling back at her. Through the anguish, a warm and content feeling pushes into my chest.
She takes a single step toward me, and I wrap her instinctively in my arms. She feels amazing. Her presence does something unnatural and unexplainably good to me.
