by Sage Sask
“Get off the bridge!” I scream, begging him. “Please!”
The bridge begins to fray as our combined weight pulls on the rope. Another creaking sound serves as the only warning seconds before it starts to collapse. Shane grips the edge and finally sees me.
“Run!” I mouth.
His eyes widen. Following my direction, he rushes toward safety while begging me to do the same. “Get off!”
I start to move when the wind pushes the bridge to the left. My legs buckle beneath me, and I fall to my knees. I grasp the rope with both hands and pull up to a standing position. The wood panel below me gives way.
“Hold on to the rope!” Ryan yells.
A loud snap and then a groan as the line begins to break. Ryan grabs the end of the rope just as the entire bridge collapses. Broken pieces of wood fall into the raging river as I grip the rope. Across from us, everyone stares in horror as we swing over the raging water.
“Push your weight forward,” Ryan yells. He climbs the rope until he’s right below me. “Toward the rocks.”
A ledge protrudes from the side of the cliff. Though barely large enough to hold the two of us, it is our only chance. A tearing sound warns us the other side of the rope has seconds left before dropping us into the river.
I mimic Ryan’s motions of rocking back and forth as we swing midair. My backpack slips off my shoulder and into the river. My phone, safely encased inside it, is lost forever. Below us, the river picks up speed with the wind.
“On two,” I yell as the rope continues to fray.
As Ryan counts us down, I put all of my energy into pushing the rope back and forth until we nearly slam into the side of the cliff.
“Jump!” he shouts.
One wrong move, one slip, and we will end up in the river. Locked on the target, I release the rope and aim for the ridge. I bend both my knees and land hard on the rock. I push all of my weight forward, barely keeping from falling backward into the river.
Ryan follows, landing right next to me. His body bumps mine, sending us both toppling toward the side of the rocks. He helps me up just as the rope snaps, then tears in half. We both watch as it breaks and falls into the rushing water before being carried down the river.
“You OK?” he asks, running an eye over me.
“I’m good.” Dazed, I stare at the water and the bridge that no longer exists. “We got lucky.”
“I don’t think so.” Ryan considers me before asking, “How did you know what was going to happen, Edmonds?”
Frustrated, I look away. Below us, the river screams its delight as it rushes over the rocks. “I heard the rope snap.”
“Try again.” Ryan scoffs at my answer. “You read Shane.”
“Readers can’t read other readers.” My breathing accelerates until I’m ready to pass out.
“But you can,” he says slowly. “Right?”
FORTY-SIX
After arriving at the orphanage, I quickly learned its ways. Agatha was a strict caretaker. We all knew that any mistake could lead to her wrath. A boy, a few years older than me, made the mistake of stealing a shirt from a store. Agatha said nothing to him when she found it in the closet. The next day, a safety patrol officer arrived at our door and took him away. Agatha told us to another orphanage, but I doubted her story.
Now, I hesitate to speak. If I admit the truth to Ryan, I chance David learning it. Given David’s attempts on my life, I can never let down my guard.
Ryan’s expression changes with my continued silence. A softness I have never seen comes over him. “Reading Shane then saving his life at the risk of your own?” He offers me a small smile. “That’s heroic Edmonds, not an indictment.” Before I can say more, he says, “You’re right to keep it a secret.”
“I can’t read other readers,” I insist. “It was just a feeling.” My fear continues to demand I keep my secret.
He nods, as if understanding my need to hide. Hands on his hips, he scans the area. He peers up toward where the others are, but protruding rock and foliage blocks his view.
“We don’t have a lot of options,” he says, changing the topic.
I swallow my lump of gratitude and follow his lead. “Climb up?” I wonder.
Ryan runs a hand over the rock. “They’re too slippery from the condensation. We wouldn’t have a chance.” Frustrated, he glances down. “It’s too far down to try that way either.”
The wind picks up, and with it, the temperature drops further. I fight back a shiver, suddenly thankful for the sweatshirt I wore earlier. I slip on the gloves that I stuffed in my back pocket. Ryan rummages through his backpack and pulls out a jacket and small blanket.
“I had a rope in my pack.” I point to the line of trees close to where the bridge connected to the ledge. “We could have made a loop and attached it to the tree to climb up.”
“It wouldn’t have worked.” He gauges the distance between our position and the tree. “We’re too far down to catch a branch.” He sits down with his back against the cliff wall. “They’ll come for us. We have to wait it out.”
“You have a lot of faith.” Taking the seat next to him, I rest my head against the rocks. “What if you’re wrong?”
“They’re not going to leave us behind.” When I remain silent, he glances at me. “You don’t believe me?”
I avoid answering right away. “I’m not one of you.”
“No,” he agrees, “you’re not.” Surprised at his agreement, I glance at him. “Is that why you walked away instead of helping Levi?”
Shame nearly drives me to deny it, but the certainty with which he asks me says he knows the truth. But our history forces my bitterness. “I thought the Circle approved of that? Watching out for yourself first?”
Ryan doesn’t flinch but doesn’t take the bait either. Instead, he considers me before finally saying, “We have to make decisions every day at the Circle and in the field.” He stares at the sky. “Not every decision can be the right one.”
For a second, I allow myself to imagine that he’s talking about what he did to me and regrets it. Then I remind myself that no matter what he says now, he still betrayed me to Harrison.
“Where I come from, you pay for your mistakes.” I think about the orphanage and my life before this one. The safety patrol that was always watching and ready to punish.
“How did you survive?” he asks. “In the field? At the orphanage?”
“By never trusting,” I say after a minute. “And always watching my back.” The water speeds over the rocks, washing away everything in its path. “Do you think Levi survived?”
“I don’t know.” I hear the concern in his voice.
I rest my head on my upturned knees. Shivering against the cold, I wrap my arms tight around my torso to keep warm.
“You risked your life for Shane’s.” He pauses, and I wonder whether he imagines the worst. “You need to let what happened with Levi go.”
“For every wrong, do one right? Balance the scales?” I consider him with a flat stare. “Are those the rules?”
A faint sound interrupts us. We both stop to listen, hoping someone is calling our names. It increases in tempo, revealing itself as the wind. I swallow my disappointment.
“The conversation you read between David and my father,” Ryan says, “I already knew about it.”
An olive branch, I realize. Moved by his attempt and surprised by the revelation, I ask, “You don’t want the lead agent position? You sent David?”
“I didn’t know about it beforehand.” His shoulders stiffen, and he breaks eye contact. “I only found out about it later.”
“Why would your friend do that to you?”
“Because he thought he was helping.” He shakes his head. “Maybe he was. Maybe he knows better.”
“You don’t believe it though?” When he stays sil
ent, I ask, “Are you going to answer me?”
“The answer doesn’t matter.”
I hear the resignation in his voice and wonder at the reason for it. But I know I can’t push. Something we have in common — we both keep our secrets close. I focus on the sun as it moves further down the horizon. I curl into myself as the wind picks up, trying to control my shivering.
“Blanket.” Ryan holds out the other end.
I dismiss him with a sideways glance. “I’m good.”
He sighs then simply lays it over me. I push it away only to have him push it back. When I push it again, he takes the whole thing off and lays it in a bundle in front of us. Refusing to cut my nose off to spite my face, I pull the blanket over me and drop the other side on him. I see his grin but ignore it. We both silently watch as the sky turns a deep shade of orange from the setting sun.
“Ever play twenty questions?” I offer the game as a thank you for the blanket.
“No.” He rubs his hands together before blowing on them for warmth. “What are the rules?”
“We made up our own.” It was a game Jenna and I played anytime the loneliness or hunger became too much to bear. “You can’t think about your answer. If you pause or hesitate, you lose.”
“Sounds incredibly exciting,” he says sarcastically.
“We could contemplate our demise instead,” I return.
“You think we’re going to die?”
“Is that your first question?” I ask.
He smiles. “No.” He rests his head against the rocks. Just when I am sure he’s not going to play, he asks, “Is ‘we’ the friend from the orphanage?”
Surprised he remembers, I say, “Jenna.” A day has not passed where I don’t think about her and the children and wonder what they are doing and how they are surviving. “We grew up in the orphanage together.”
“She didn’t know about your reading?” he asks quietly.
“No. And that was two questions.” Though I want more answers about the situation with David, I tread carefully. “How did you make lead agent?”
“The vote was between David and me.” He tosses a pebble over the ledge. We both listen for a sound, but there is only silence. “His father was the deciding vote.”
“That’s why David wants it? He’s angry at his father?”
Ryan censures me with a look. “That’s two questions, Edmonds.”
“Two for two,” I reply. “And that’s not an answer, so you lose.” I pump a fist in victory.
“It was in exchange for Harrison’s promise he would support Victoria’s exemption from the Evaluation.” Ryan smirks when his response wipes the smile off my face. “She had already lost her sight. Knowing Victoria’s ability to read other readers, Serafina had already agreed. So…” He trails off. “Victoria’s father wanted her safe, and her place at the Circle secure.”
“Does David know about the bargain?” I couldn’t imagine David’s reaction at his sister’s future prioritized over his.
“No.” He flicks off a bug crawling up his arm.
“Where is David’s father now?”
“He was lost in a battle. And that’s multiple questions. My turn.” He thinks before asking, “Why did you choose the river?”
If I don’t answer, I lose the game. Trying for a delaying tactic, I say, “We couldn’t start the game with the most embarrassing moment?”
“You’re stalling, Edmonds. Tick-tock.” He points to an imaginary watch on his wrist. “I’m about to win.”
“I tried to get a read,” I admit slowly. “I thought the river was the right way. I was wrong.” My throat closes over the words. “Not so heroic after all.”
“Did you know what could happen to Shane when you broke the vote?” he asks.
“Of course not,” I say without hesitation. “I would never have…”
“Then still heroic,” he says, ending the argument.
I want to know more about him, but the topics of David and Harrison seem off limits. Remembering the picture in his room, I say, “You never talk about your mother.” I assume she is in the field with the others. “She also wants you as lead agent?” He seems nothing like Harrison, so I wonder about the other side of who made him.
Ryan’s face tightens, and I see a glimmer of pain. “My mom left soon after giving birth to me.”
Shocked, I try to imagine his pain that is so similar to mine. “I’m sorry.”
Without a conscious decision, my hand drifts over his. Surprised, Ryan glances down at it. Embarrassed, I start to pull away, but he briefly intertwines our fingers. My eyes close, and for just one second, the pain of losing my mother doesn’t choke me nearly as much.
“Where did she go?” We both pull away at the same time.
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “She left without a note or explanation.”
“Did she live at the Circle?”
He shakes his head. “My dad met her in the field.”
I wait for him to say more, but when he remains silent, I ask, “Did your dad try to find her?”
“No. She did something to label her an enemy of the government.” The overhanging ledge shadows his face and reaction. “He had no idea who she was when he fell for her.” Agitated, he runs his hand through his hair. “Afterward, our fathers played with our lives like we were game board pieces. Bargaining for what they wanted.”
“Your father wanted you for lead agent.”
“He’s a very ambitious man,” Ryan murmurs. “And I am his protégé. He pushed Victoria and me together from the beginning. It’s a perfect union.”
“But you love Victoria.” Together, they look perfect with one another. Another woman could never hold a candle to her, I think. “When you’re together, it’s obvious how much you care for her.”
His look says he’s surprised I noticed. “I do care about her.” He stares into the distance, contemplative. “She’s a good person.”
“You both are fortunate.” The air between us thickens. Having never been loved unconditionally, I imagine, for just a minute, what it would feel like.
We both go quiet; our silence is broken only by the sounds of the forest settling in for the night.
“What’s your favorite time of day?” he asks, breaking the tension. I laugh then think about it. “Edmonds, you’re about to lose this game over picking one hour out of the twenty-four in a day?” he asks.
“Sunset,” I say quickly. “Feels like no matter what happens that day, there will be another one to try and make it better.”
He considers the answer before teasing me. “Lame but acceptable. Your turn.”
I take his cue to lighten the mood. “Last fight you lost?”
“You assume I’ve lost one.” Chuckling, he says, “Doesn’t bode well for your future in the field if I’m assigned your agent.”
His wording says he believes I will pass - that he is confident I have a future in the Circle. Dread fills me at the thought of him learning the truth about my mother and the betrayal waiting on the horizon.
“Current circumstances aside, I would say seven years old.” Ryan breaks through my thoughts. “Melanie took me down over whose turn it was on the swing.”
“Melanie?” Soaking wet, she is half of Ryan’s weight. “That’s kind of sad.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” he says in his own defense. “She throws a mean punch.” Across the horizon, the sun starts to set. Ryan tilts his head toward it. “There’s your sunset.”
“Yeah.” We watch as it disappears to make room for the moon. “Full moon.” I circle it with my finger. “There’s the North Star and the Big Dipper.”
“You know your constellations,” he says, sounding impressed.
“At the orphanage, I…” I pause, unsure how much to share with him. His intent gaze encourages me to continue. �
��I would go on the roof of the orphanage to think. I’d try to remember something, anything, about my family.” Feeling silly, I shrug. “I ended up learning all the stars instead.”
“Harrison won’t talk about my mom,” he says after a pause. We nestle under the blanket as the temperature drops further. “I asked one time. He said the topic was off-limits. Then he left the Circle for a month without telling me where he was going or when he would be back.”
“How old were you?”
“Six.”
I can hear his pain. “I’m sorry.” He rubs his hands together for warmth. I slip off a glove and hand it to him. When he starts to protest, I argue, “It’s the only way I’ll share your blanket.” He tries it on, but it barely covers his hand. He gives me a look, but I just shrug. “At least half of your hand is warm.”
“Thanks.” A comfortable silence fills the space.
I consider the last few weeks and our constant ups and downs. I start to ask him why, then stop. He hears my exhale of breath.
“Spit it out, Edmonds,” he murmurs.
“It doesn’t matter,” I lie.
“Right,” he says, clearly not believing me.
“What you did,” I say before I can stop myself. My anger at his betrayal still runs fresh.
He sighs then drops his head against the rocks. He closes his eyes. “There are bigger things at play than you realize.”
“My life is not a move on a game board,” I hit back. “I trusted you.”
He catches the pain in my eyes before I can hide it. “I know.”
Needing an answer, I repeat Serafina’s claim. “Serafina said you told to protect me.”
He looks surprised at the revelation. “That was part of it.”
“How?”
“If Harrison knew you weren’t part of the Resistance, I hoped he would back off.”
Stunned, I try to understand why he cared enough to try. When no answer presents itself, I ask him. “Why?”
He refuses to answer me. Instead, he says, “I also needed Harrison to trust me.”
