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Through the Ashes (The Light Book 2)

Page 17

by Jacqueline Brown


  “Bad dream?” Josh whispered.

  Blaise slept, her head resting on his shoulder. East, Sara, and Haz slept nearby, covered in white puffy blankets.

  “Yes,” I whispered, not wanting to wake anyone.

  “We’re safe for now,” he said, his eyes tired.

  I pulled the wedding dress up around my chin and tried to focus on the breathing of my friends. I felt alone in the darkness, though I was surrounded by those I loved most. I reached a hand to the back of my head. I pulled it away as soon as I felt the rough scab. Trent had held nothing back then, or before, when he’d punched me. I moved my hand to my stomach. Unexpected tears came. I loved him once—at least I thought I did. I knew he was broken. I thought he was as broken as me, but I was wrong. He was far more broken than I ever understood.

  I looked at Sara, sleeping soundly between Haz and East. She knew, but I hadn’t listened to her. I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I was getting what I deserved when I was with him, but I realized now, regardless of what I did in my past, I didn’t deserve to be controlled or abused. I knew I was lucky to be alive. I’d seen the anger, the hatred in his eyes before the light, but didn’t understand what it meant. I hadn’t realized how deadly it was—how deadly he was.

  I closed my eyes and prayed I would never see Trent again. That none of us would ever see Trent again. I knew he would kill as many of us as he could and he’d start first with Jonah and me. I should have killed him when I had the chance. As long as he lived he would cause more pain, more death. I shook the thought from my head. Eli would disagree and so would my father. I didn’t understand them and how they could not desire death for those who hurt us so deeply. I swallowed. I wasn’t like them. I doubted I would ever be like them.

  I wondered if Trent ever loved me. But then I realized he had no understanding of what real love was. I knew if he was ever asked if he loved me he would, without hesitation, say yes and believe the words he spoke. I also knew he would, without hesitation, kill me as soon as he got the chance.

  Thirty

  The sun crept into the windows, illuminating the dresses at the front of the store. I stayed in the back while Haz hid behind bridal mannequins and peered out the windows.

  I didn’t want to leave this place—not that it offered any real protection. But, at least we were all together, and we weren’t running. I was tired in every sense of the word, and I knew the doctor was right. I needed to rest and allow my brain to heal.

  Sara’s family lived, or used to live, a few miles east of where we were. We had to make it there and then somehow reach the outside of the beltway.

  Jonah stood beside me as Haz signaled for us to come forward. Jonah had said almost nothing that morning except to ask, in a groggy voice, if I’d cut my hair and who Haz was. He had no memory of the previous day, and I was glad. Though I wished he had a memory of our first kiss, I was thankful he didn’t remember the pain or anything that may have come before it. I hoped the day before that was a blur as well.

  We ran to the door, which Haz propped open for us. East was the first out. We held our weapons in our hands, except for Sara, who didn’t have one but wouldn’t have carried one anyway.

  East followed Haz, who worked his way through the streets and alleys. My friends went behind them, then Jonah and me. Jonah’s limp slowed the pace. But it was only when we sprinted that he cried out in pain. I knew the less he had to push his injured muscles the easier it would be for him. I kept my pace even with his, staying only a few feet in front of him so the gap between him and the others was not as noticeable.

  When we crossed larger intersections, Haz, East, Jonah, and Blaise watched for attackers. Though I’d never seen Haz shoot, I was sure he was as good as Blaise, if not better. I was thankful he was with us, but I wondered how long he would stay.

  Soldiers appeared as we neared some burned buildings. We dodged them by crouching below the metal bars that had once guarded the windows of a small corner deli. All the glass was shattered; some lay on the street, some beneath our feet on the sidewalk, and the rest was inside the destroyed restaurant. I glanced inside the deli, as Haz signaled for us to back up to avoid the soldiers. I could see parts of a skeleton behind the empty display case. Places with food would’ve seen the most violence, at least in the beginning. We continued backing up until we reached a solid wall, one where no windows had been. A large trash bin stood nearby and we gathered behind it.

  “That’s where we lived,” Sara said, pointing to a building on the right-hand side of the deserted road.

  Rusting, burned-out cars sat on each side of the street.

  Seeing the building brought up a mixture of emotions. I thought of the love and acceptance I’d received the last time I was in the small two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of the concrete block building. I felt sadness for what lay inside, or didn’t. The windows on the first floor were broken out. This area had been violent before the light. What had it turned into after? Sara warned me when I stayed there, not to bring my car and not to go outside without her or her mom. I had obeyed.

  “It looks deserted,” Blaise said.

  “I’m sure it is,” Haz said.

  Sara stood looking at the front door of the building. Bullet holes acted as peepholes in the rusted metal.

  “Come on,” I said, taking hold of Sara’s hand and pulling her forward.

  She didn’t fight me as we approached the half-open door. Everyone followed close. We entered the dilapidated entryway and saw the familiar graffiti-lined walls. The smell of death was all around us. It was not the putrid smell of fresh rotting death; this death had filled the air months ago.

  Our feet echoed on the metal steps. I stopped and Sara gasped. A body lay on the small landing between the first and second floors. Its skin was pulled tight, like leather against bones. It wore the clothes of a man. Above the hollow eye sockets was a hole in the skull. Perhaps Sara had known him, but it didn’t matter now. I pulled her onward, up the stairs.

  The hollow metal door to Sara’s apartment contained at least six bullet holes. It could have been more, but I didn’t allow myself to count. Counting would mean thinking.

  The metal knob was cool against my flushed skin. I twisted the knob. It didn’t move.

  “Here, let me,” Haz said, stepping forward. He kicked. The door buckled and parts of it loosened against the frame, but it didn’t open.

  He kicked again—the sound bouncing off buildings miles away. If anyone was trying to find us, they would not have a hard time now. The noise was the equivalent of a flare.

  The door had become loose enough to push open.

  The sun came in through the open windows. Memories flooded my mind. Things were unchanged. Sara squeezed my hand and released it as she stepped into her home. The emotion overwhelmed me and my head throbbed.

  Perhaps the thunderous noise of Haz’s foot breaking a metal door had been too much or perhaps life was too much. Either way, I sat at the kitchen table with my head between my hands, wishing Sara’s family would walk in. Without thinking I reached to stop the throbbing. I winced in pain and knew without seeing, that Jonah was watching. I didn’t care. I laid my head down on my arm. My eyesight blurred, and the pain in my head was making me nauseated.

  I lifted my head to my hands. It hurt in a way it never had before. I closed my eyes to block the sun. My stomach reeled and I could not stand. Thoughts came slowly. Every sound felt like an explosion in my head.

  “Are you okay?” Blaise asked. The vibrations of her steps echoed off every nerve in my head.

  “No,” I said with as much strength as I could summon, though the word only came as a whisper.

  “What is it?” Jonah asked, his voice concerned and close.

  “Headache,” I whispered. Though I knew that was wrong. No headache ever felt like this.

  The contents of my stomach surged upward. I ran to the bathroom. The plumbing had long ago backed up and the smell pushed me over the edge. My vomit
filled the bathtub. My stomach spasmed again and again. There was nothing to push out and so it fought against itself. My body shook as I grasped the cold fiberglass sides of the tub.

  Finally, the heaving slowed and stopped. I fought to inhale, my body falling back against the tiles that lined the floor and bottom of the wall.

  Jonah placed a cautious hand on my shoulder. I wanted to tell him to go, but the smell of the backed-up sewer threatened to send me retching again. I pushed myself up and forced myself out of the bathroom. Jonah closed the door behind me, trapping the smell in. My stomach started to settle as I fell onto the couch.

  “What happened?” Sara asked.

  “Don’t know,” I said, my stomach muscles shaking from overuse.

  My friends’ concerned looks embarrassed me. I felt disgusting as the taste of leftover bile filled my mouth. I breathed slowly and deeply through my nose, trying hard to slow my body and regain control. I didn’t know if I’d ever wanted to take a shower or brush my teeth more than I did at that moment.

  “Here, change into these,” Sara said, placing a set of clothes and mouthwash down beside me. “These are clean, and this will help you feel a little better.”

  Blaise pulled me up as I stood from the couch.

  “Okay,” I said.

  Jonah held my arm as I stumbled toward the room Sara and Sage used to share.

  I entered their room alone. Jonah remained in the hallway, his back turned.

  I peeled off the dirt-soaked sweatshirt and heavy canvas pants, falling onto Sage’s unmade bed as I slid them off. My hand hit something hard. Sara’s faded yellow T-shirt smelled of fabric softener, a marked improvement from the stench of my previous clothes. I stood and snapped Sara’s black cotton pants around my waist.

  Curious to know what my hand had hit, I pulled the sheet to the center of the bed. Beneath the comforter lay a small book.

  “What’s that?” Jonah asked from his place at the doorway.

  I wondered how long he’d been watching me.

  I flipped it open. My mouth fell slack.

  “What? What is it?” he asked, coming toward me.

  I raised my eyes to his. “Sage’s journal.”

  Thirty-One

  We’re leaving. We don’t have a choice. We won’t survive, so don’t look for us. Mom says we’re going to the stones. She says we can find food in the woods there. I told her there won’t be any food for us there, either. She says I’m wrong, but I can tell she knows I’m right.

  I don’t know why I’m writing to you. You’ll never read these words. I guess it’s to say goodbye and to tell you I love you. You were the best part of my life. I’m sorry that the last words I spoke to you were so mean. I know I sounded angry, but I was really just hurt that you were choosing your friends over me. But now I’m glad you did. I hope you’re safe. I imagine you happy and warm, with plenty of food and water.

  I’m sorry I won’t live much longer. I know it’s what you want and what Mom needs, but I can feel my mind, my self, slipping further and further. I hope you’re right and there is something after this life. I’ll hold on to that thought, the thought that someday we will see each other again. You hold onto it too. Maybe if we both do, it will come true.

  I have to go. I’m leaving this here. I’m not sure why. I guess I must still have some hope deep inside of me.

  I love you, Sara. I miss you.

  Your sister forever,

  Sage

  Blaise read the last entry in Sage’s journal aloud.

  Sara sat with one hand on her stomach, the other on her mouth. She rocked back and forth, tears running down her face.

  East knelt beside her. “I know you want to fall apart. But you can’t, not yet. What did she mean by the stones? Where is it?”

  Sara shifted her gaze to East. She blinked several times before speaking, as if summoning all the strength left within her.

  “It was my mom’s favorite place. Peaceful and quiet, out in the middle of the woods. She took us on the weekends whenever she wasn’t working. I used to hate it. It didn’t have cell signal,” she said, staring at East.

  “Where is it?” East asked.

  Sara blinked. “I don’t know.”

  East fell back, her butt hitting the worn tan carpet.

  “You have to remember something,” Blaise said, kneeling beside Sara.

  “We drove for like an hour on 270. Then we got on a smaller road, 15, I think. There were old buildings built out of stone. It’s why we called it the stones,” she said, staring into the distance.

  East stood. “We have to go,” she said. “The longer we stay here the closer we are to being found. We need to take whatever we can and get out. Get out of the beltway and away from this place.”

  Josh went to the kitchen and Blaise followed. They returned carrying kitchen knives of varying sizes.

  As she and Josh laid the knives on the kitchen table, Blaise said, “Sara, did your mom have rope or belts or anything we could use to make some sort of holders for the knives?”

  “I’d like a way to defend myself without needing to aim,” Josh said, a slight smile on his lips.

  Of all of us, he was the worst shot.

  “You’ll need some sort of sheath, or you’ll stab yourself when you walk,” East said.

  “I’ll look for something,” Sara said, wiping her eyes on the way to her mom’s room.

  East followed her.

  Haz, with his arms folded, stood near the window, looking down at the deserted street. He said, “Trent will have troops stationed at all the tunnels and ramps along the beltway.”

  “Can’t we go farther, away from the part he’s in control of?” Blaise asked from her spot at the table, while arranging the knives in front of her.

  Haz shook his head. “He’s in radio contact with all of the officers in a five-mile radius. And they’re in contact with those in the next five miles. You’ll be recognized anywhere in the beltway.”

  “What’s he gonna say, ‘My ex left me and I want her back’?” Josh said. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “We did help empty their prison,” Blaise said from beside him.

  “So, most of those people didn’t do anything wrong. You know, you talked to them too,” Josh said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Haz said, shaking his head in frustration. “You’re thinking of the United States and the laws that governed it. That place and those laws are dead. Now it’s about whoever’s most powerful can do whatever. It doesn’t matter how many people he’s hurt, how many innocent people he’s killed. If you’re caught, you’ll be killed.”

  “What do we do?” Sara asked. She was carrying belts, scraps of cloth, and cardboard.

  “What would Trent expect us to do?” East asked, setting a new roll of duct tape on the table.

  Blaise, Josh, and Sara began separating the materials.

  “To run,” I said. “To get as far from him as we can.”

  “Exactly. So what if we don’t. What if we go right back through the heart of his territory?” East said.

  “Trent will kill me. Going back to where he is, is suicide,” I said, looking at East, trying to keep my mind in the present and not allow it to focus on the terror rising within me.

  “You’re right,” Haz said, looking at me from his place at the window, his already dark features backlit by the sun. “But so is East. I think it’s the best chance we have.”

  “This is too risky, especially for Bria,” Jonah said, coming to stand behind me.

  Haz stepped from the window. “We know he’s looking for her. We also know he’ll think she’s run as far from him as she can get. He won’t be looking for her there. He may not even be there. We could probably walk right into his territory and he wouldn’t see us coming because he wouldn’t be looking.”

  “No, she can’t go back to him,” Jonah said, the slightest hint of panic in his voice.

  “Stay in the present, Jonah. This isn’t like before. Bria isn�
��t Rachel,” East said, and though her tone was harsh, I could hear the love behind it.

  I realized then that I was not the only one who had allowed my past to haunt me. I stood and faced him. I reached for his hand. He looked startled at first, and then allowed me to take his hand in mine.

  “I’m not going back to him, Jonah. I’m never going back to him, but I am hoping to go through him. I think it’s the only way. The only chance we have. Besides, now we know what he is, and that means we are more prepared. We understand we have to fight. We have no choice.”

  “I don’t want to lose you again,” Jonah said, staring at my hand as his thumb stroked it.

  “And I don’t want to be lost,” I said, squeezing his hand, my voice scarcely above a whisper.

  Haz stepped forward. “Jonah, we don’t have any other option. If we go farther north we will have to cross 66. If we go south we have to cross 395. Beyond each of those is the Potomac. This is our best chance of getting out.”

  “But what if he’s expecting us, if he’s waiting for us?” Jonah said.

  East came and put her hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “We won’t leave her. And we won’t stop fighting. We understand that if we surrender, we die—or at least, Bria does—and we aren’t willing to accept that.”

  East’s statement showed a placid determination that made me see the soldier she was made to be.

  “These might help a little,” Blaise said as she strapped one of the smaller knives around her waist.

  Josh took the largest of the knives and put his shoulder through the strap so that the knife hung securely in a sheath below his ribs.

  Blaise said, “We won’t win any fashion awards, but at least we won’t impale ourselves.”

  When I stood, my head started to hurt again, but I refused to show the others that I was in pain. I picked up the smallest of the knives.

  East took it from me. “Use this one,” she said, handing me one several inches longer than the one I’d chosen.

 

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