by Trisha Leigh
My mind reels. More places exist on our planet than just the Other cities. Until a few weeks ago, I never guessed something more than animals and death lay outside the boundaries. I want to see a map, a picture of this America, these places the Elements fell in love.
The three of us lapse into silence and float, gently rocked into a daze by the rippling water. It’s so lovely. As the sun slips toward the horizon a new whirring noise greets my ears. “What’s that?”
Lucas answers. “Cicadas. They’re bugs. Huh. Guess you wouldn’t have heard them before.”
The sound is wonderful. I kick off my shoes and copy Cadi, dragging my toes in water as warm as a bath.
Lucas sits up so fast the boat nearly tips over. “What time is it?”
As the sun slips away, Cadi snaps her fingers one last time. An overwhelming sense of sadness conquers me as we find ourselves back in the collection center. Cold air worms its way under the door and around the windowsill, chilling me.
A clock chimes five times.
“Althea, we’ve got to go. It’ll take us more than an hour to get home and wake up is at seven.” Lucas pulls me to my feet and we yank on our coats and boots. Cadi follows us out the front door and to the edge of the clearing, stopping abruptly.
I look back at her. It’s not fair that she knows everything about me when I don’t know the first thing about me. The urge to break the rules, to stay out here talking all day and night, claws at me. Cadi catches me off guard and hugs me tight. She stares at Lucas for a moment, a fond expression tilting her mouth. “It’s odd, Lucas not wanting to trust me. He’s always been more trusting than you. It’s rather sweet.”
I wonder what she means by Lucas’s distrust being sweet. “Can’t you come with us, or stay longer? What are we going to do about the interviews?”
Her eyes darken and look deep into mine. “I am not free to come and go as I please, Althea. I can’t even step outside this clearing unaccompanied. Come back tomorrow night, if you can manage it. I can help you escape, if it comes to that. I still have hope Ko’s work will hold.”
I nod, hugging her back and breathing in her woodsy scent. Lucas and I adjust our sky bearings to take us east, and use the stars to navigate our way back to town. The night is cold and dark, but the blackness eases to a silky blue over the next forty minutes. We don’t speak. The revelations of this night crack and sizzle along my synapses, warm my heart and chill my bones.
Who—no, what—we are is so unthinkable.
A loud growl knocks me out of my thoughts and back into the real world. Lucas stops, looking as dazed as I feel. We slip through a couple of bushes, stopping short when we see some animals in a standoff.
Small and grey with black stripes ringing their tales and eyes, the creatures don’t notice they have an audience. Two bigger ones have a smaller one cornered against a tree. The little one vacillates between whimpering and growling as the larger ones advance, loud snarls ominous and menacing.
One attacks the little guy and he squeals. Lucas runs forward with two sticks in his hands, banging them together. When he gets closer he uses one to fling the assailant off its victim and into the bushes. It scurries away, and the second bully follows suit. My heart races and all four layers of my clothes soak through with sweat in seconds as Lucas bends down to check on the littlest creature.
I scream for him to stop and run straight at him, but it’s too late.
CHAPTER 25.
The animal launches from its huddled, protective stance into Lucas’s legs, knocking him backward onto his butt. It snarls and bites and claws; Lucas struggles and grunts with the effort to get free. I race over to kick it, but it lets go and runs the opposite direction of its attackers, disappearing into the forest.
I shoot a panicked glance around the area, but we’re alone again, at least for now. Lucas’s face is white and slick with sweat. He takes several deep breaths as I drop to my knees and wrap my hands around his face. His left pant leg is ripped open and dark red blood colors the frayed edges.
“Are you okay?”
Pain flickers as he tries to smile. “Fine. I guess you were right about the animals.”
My hands drop to my sides. “You shouldn’t have gotten so close. He was frightened to death already. You look like some sort of giant to him.”
Lucas reaches out a shaking hand to tug his ruined pant leg over the injury. “Well, well, what’s this? Althea defending the animals?”
“I’m not defending them, exactly. I’m saying you were stupid. This isn’t our world, out here. It’s theirs.”
He flinches as his fingers graze a gaping slash along his calf. My stomach turns at the metallic scent of blood but I push it away and lean in to inspect the wound. Flaps of jagged skin open to reveal red tissue and bubbles of something white.
“It’s deep, Lucas. We need to get home. Can you walk?”
He nods and struggles to his feet. I pretend not to see him wince, and set a slower pace as we walk the last twenty minutes to the boundary. Lucas doesn’t have as difficult a time with the climb over the fence as I expect. But the incident with the animals makes us later—it’s nearly six forty-five before we get back to our street. No time to fix Lucas. “Get that thing cleaned and bandaged.”
“Remember dinner tonight, with Mr. Morgan.”
It’s Tuesday, time for our Parent Sanction. If Mr. Morgan approves of our courtship, then we’ll have to schedule one with Lucas’s fake parents, too. If we live that long. “Right. See you in a bit.”
I race home, shutting off my alarm about five minutes before Mr. Morgan shouts a good morning up the stairs. My heart thumps as I take a shower and stuff breakfast in my face.
Mr. Morgan is even keeled this morning. “I spoke with the Crawfords. Lucas will definitely be coming here this evening for dinner. I’ve ordered something special.”
I nod and take our dishes to the sink, kissing him goodbye and hurrying out the front door for Cell. The sight of Lucas waiting for me, looking clean and healthy, eases my tension a bit. “How are you? How’s your leg?”
“It hurts, but I’ll live. I cleaned it in the shower and made a bandage out of a shirt.”
“Is it still bleeding?”
“Yeah, but it’s slowing down.” He tries to hide a limp.
I choose to ignore the development, instead punching him lightly on the arm. “So are you ready for our Sanction dinner with Mr. Morgan tonight?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We fall silent when students litter the sidewalk in front of us. We pass through the front doors of the Cell and go about our day. My legs jiggle all the way through, fingers tapping tables and desks. A super annoying twitch finds my right eye after lunch and refuses to vacate the premises. A reminder to calm down, issued to myself every few minutes, keeps the sweat to a minimum. Lucas joins us girls at lunch, but his presence isn’t as soothing as usual. Since my brain resists focusing in block or paying any type of attention to the Monitors, I let it linger on all the reasons fueling this crazy, trapped feeling.
Cadi.
Learning the Others are looking for me.
Hearing that the Others murdered my human parent, that Fire is a prisoner.
It’s everything. Most of all, it’s not being able to ask Cadi all the questions we need answered. It’s driving me completely crazy.
By the end of chemistry, my heart races with anticipation. In a few hours we’ll be back with her, maybe figuring out how to get out of here.
Lucas and I plow through the front doors when Cell ends, but not fast enough to avoid Deshi. Tearing my hair out—or his—doesn’t seem wise, so instead we agree to join him on a trip to the pizza parlor.
Our Cellmates must have decided on bowling, because the restaurant is all but empty when we grab a table. We’re alone. With an Other. One who seems very interested in the two of us. After last night I second-guess every move, wonder if I’m giving us away.
The video screen on the table takes ou
r order, and five minutes later three hot slices of pepperoni pie slide off the conveyor belt and onto our table. It should look and smell wonderful.
Should. But doesn’t.
Eating wouldn’t be easy even without Deshi’s rotting mushroom smell permeating the air, but I’ve got to try. Lucas blanches as he takes a bite but Deshi is too intent on his own meal to notice. He looks up after a minute, still chewing. It doesn’t stop him from talking, and keeping a smile on my face while I watch strings of mashed-up cheese hang from his teeth is excruciating.
“So, why do you guys think the Wardens are really in town?” He watches us both with measured intensity.
I don’t know what period Deshi has chemistry, but I suppose it doesn’t actually matter.
Lucas swallows his bite of pizza with some effort before he answers. “I’m sure it’s no big deal. Maybe they’re looking for some of us to work for them or something. That would be cool.”
“Work for them?” Deshi sounds surprised, and to be honest, so am I.
“Yeah, you know. Like assistants, or rider pilots, or something.”
This just keeps getting better and better. Lucas is totally winging it.
Deshi keeps eating and watching Lucas with thinly disguised irritation, then turns his gaze my direction. When he first arrived in Danbury he acted too open to seem all the way human, but friendly. Now, he seems impatient all the time. It ramps up my fear, the notion that he’s anxious for something to happen, that we’re running out of time.
“What about you?” Deshi lobs the question at me this time.
“Me? No, thanks. I want to work in Travel like my dad.”
His tight smile lances open my bravado. “No, I mean what do you think of the interviews?”
“Oh.” My palms feel slick, pizza grease mixing with sweat. “Not much, I suppose. Maybe what Lucas said. Maybe something else. Who cares?”
“Just wondering what you’d say. You two are so interesting.” Deshi bites into his slice with more force than necessary. The smell of decomposition makes me think the skin he’s wearing is nearing its expiration date. Maybe that looming deadline is what’s making him so irritable.
Does he only suspect us or does he know? He can’t be sure or he’d alert the Prime Other.
Wouldn’t he?
We finish up our snack and tell Deshi we’ve got to go get ready for our Sanction. I hop in the shower at home, more to be alone than anything else. The revelations from Cadi’s memories are too much to handle all at once. I mean, I’ve met my mother—in a sense—and learned that the Others executed my father. I’ve watched the only person I’ve trusted my entire life—until Lucas—tortured for information about me.
The Wardens are here searching for us.
My mother talks in my mind.
It’s still unbelievable that Fire is my mother—the most powerful of the Elements. The woman whose reflection I’ve stared at as it hung on Cell walls and felt nothing but fear. Even in the room with her, watching her cry over the death of my father and worry about my safety, indecision dominated.
There’s a spark of something good in her, and knowing she loved me pushes my fear into a slide toward uncertainty. I think about how my father must have loved her. Enough to risk death to be together. They gave up everything for each other, and then for me. Their child.
Until now, love has been an abstract emotion. It’s a word people use, like I love roasted potatoes. When people Partner they promise to love each other, but it means nothing. Or at least it didn’t before. When Lucas’s father’s face tightened, voice scraping out the words “we loved them…they loved us,” I felt it for the first time. Love. What it must be.
Out of nowhere the memory of Lucas’s kiss bubbles up. Those feelings he sets off in me don’t have a name. It’s not love. Not yet.
But maybe something like it.
Okay, Althea. Focus. Thinking about normal teenage things such as Lucas coming over for the Parental Sanction helps take my mind off everything else. My growing feelings for him should be insignificant in the grand scheme of my life. Still, the idea of this dinner sends squirrels chasing one another around in my stomach.
Hot water runs over me, washing in rivulets down the drain. A hard stream pulses from the showerhead, kneading the strain out of my neck and shoulders. I wonder what Lucas thinks about tonight, if he’s sorry he kissed me, if—in a different world—he’d want to court me for real.
It may be selfish and trivial, but having Lucas at my side is the most important thing right now. Even the thought of being captured and killed by the Others can’t win out over thoughts of the boy with blue eyes like my own. No one else understands what I’m going through, what it means to find out I’m not human. He’s the only person on Earth who gives me hope. My past and future are tied up in this one boy. To break the connection would cause unimaginable pain. Ko and Cadi both mentioned that separation caused the Elements discomfort. Could it be the same with us?
I turn the shower off and towel myself dry. Perusing my closet for something that doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard, I settle on a knee-length brown skirt and a soft, light pink sweater.
Makeup is hard to do, but looks okay after some work. My hair is thick and I’m unused to wrestling it into something other than a ponytail. Tears fill my eyes as I remember how Mrs. Morgan would curl my hair. The mixer was probably the last time it will ever look so pretty. Curling it myself would turn into a disaster, so instead I dry it and brush it out straight until it shines. I search my reflection for traces of my parents. Maybe my father’s ears, or freckles, but the red hair is surely a gift from Fire.
I still can’t think of my mother by her real name. I try it out. Flacara.
Nope.
The door rings and my stomach flutters. The mirror confirms the red tinge creeping into my cheeks. So much for makeup.
“Thea! Your young man is here. Come on down!”
He called Lucas my “young man.” And right in front of him. Balls.
Calm down. Lucas isn’t going to think anything of it.
The voice in my head—her voice—makes sense, but I tell it to shut up.
Even though he kissed me, it’s not like we’ve had any talks about anything serious, never mind Partnering for real. The only reason we’re even having the Sanction is because that Other questioned us in the park.
The fluttering increases at the sight of Lucas, setting me on edge and causing my hands to shake. He looks handsome in tan pants and a light blue button-down instead of his typical jeans and T-shirt. The shirt matches his eyes, which seem to reach out and hold me from across the room. He smiles. The fluttering turns to flapping. Like a flock of birds have joined the wrestling squirrels.
“Hey, Althea.”
“Hi.” Oh, no, that croaked out. I clear my throat.
“Well, dinner won’t be here for a few minutes, so why don’t we all sit down and watch the news?” Mr. Morgan beams at us, waving one arm in an inviting arc toward the living room.
Lucas and I follow him through the arched doorway and settle onto the empty love seat. Mr. Morgan takes the couch, choosing to focus on the television instead of us. He seems nervous, too, and it’s nice not to be the only one, because Lucas is as cool as a cucumber. He nudges me with an elbow when Mr. Morgan’s not looking, his eyes smiling in amusement at the jumping anxiety fluttering about the room. I don’t know how he takes things in stride like that. I try to copy his playfulness, crossing my eyes at him until the voice on the television captures my attention.
A human reporter stands outside a home, loitering next to an irritated Warden. “Sir, can you tell us what happened here today?”
“A tragedy. A couple lived in this house and the man Broke. His Partner either didn’t realize the nature of his issue, or refused to report it. He killed her, then took his own life. Their young boy has also been removed.” Worry trickles into the Warden’s unemotional tone.
The reporter goes on, the same pleasant and un
concerned air about him. “This is interesting news. Have you ever heard of anything like this happening before? I know I’ve never witnessed it in Portland.”
Portland? Without thinking about Mr. Morgan being in the same room, my hand finds its way into Lucas’s. Everyone’s eyes are riveted to the television.
“No, nothing of this magnitude. We all know people Break, and we remove them from the general public. Violence is unheard of, until now.”
The Warden turns and walks away without waiting to see if the reporter has any additional questions. A small child sits forgotten on the front steps, his elbows balanced on his knees and his head resting on his hands. His eyes are dry and empty as he watches two floating cots meander out the front door on the screen, controlled by a white-clad Other like the ones who collected Mrs. Morgan. The outlines of bodies are visible under the sheets, and bright red splotches stain the white fabric. My stomach churns at the sight, which reminds me of Greg’s head smashed open on that rock. Reese’s hand sliced open in chemistry. The blood dripping from my Cellmates’ faces at the Family Outing.
I resist the urge to bury my face in Lucas’s shoulder.
Mr. Morgan looks unbothered; he just grunts and sits back. Then the door rings again, making both Lucas and me jump up from the love seat.
Mr. Morgan shoots us an amused smile. “Hungry, kids? Don’t worry. I’ll get the food. You two go on in and set the table.”
