by Sage Sask
“I’m glad I could help.” I try to ignore the hurt at him using me.
“Alexia,” he starts, and then stops. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I’m sorry you did.”
“Good to know.” I swallow the ache.
“Be selfish,” Ryan says suddenly. “Pass the test. Get your life back. Use me if you need to.”
“Like you used me?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says without hesitation.
“Why do you care?” I ask, still desperate for an answer. “I’m nothing to you but a means.”
He seems to want to say something then changes his mind. “Make me the same.”
“Why?” I ask again.
“Because I never meant to hurt you,” he admits after a hesitation.
His admission floors me. “David wouldn’t think twice,” I finally say.
“That’s why he’s the stronger agent,” Ryan murmurs.
“You admire him for that?” I wonder. “He’s hated by everyone.”
“Not by the person who counts,” Ryan admits.
“Harrison,” I say without asking.
“David is the agent the Circle needs,” Ryan says. “The man my father wants me to be.”
“You’re better than that.” In spite of what he did, I know it without a doubt. “You’re better than both of them.”
He seems surprised by my outburst, then grateful. “Unfortunately, the only opinion that matters is Harrison’s.”
I think about my mother and wonder who she needs me to be. What does she want from me, and how far does she expect me to go to get it? I replay Jackie wheeling her father around in the wheelchair. I imagine dozens more like him inside the Sanctuary. I repeat Victoria’s words in my head that every single one of them is fighting for their life. Can I be the person my mother wants? Can I get the job done?
“What happens if you don’t become what he needs?” I wait and wonder whether his answer will offer a guide to me on how to navigate both worlds — what a parent wants compared with what the child needs.
“That’s not an option,” he says after a pause. “It never will be.”
I hear his disappointment, and with it feel my own. His words confirm what I already knew in my heart — that there’s only one road, and that is to save my mother.
“In the zone, you don’t get to imagine a life.” My life there and now are barely different. “They decide your job for you.” Ryan listens carefully. “They tell you how to live, what to think.”
“You hated it,” he says.
“I didn’t know anything else.”
“What would you be if you could decide?”
I think about the words I scribble down in my free time. Thoughts and feelings I can never say out loud. “A writer.”
“A writer, hmm?” He considers it then asks, “What kind?”
“It wouldn’t matter. Stories, poems…anything.” I drop my head. “I’m not that good.” Anxious to take the focus off me, I ask, “What about you?”
His answer is immediate. “The Circle and being an agent? It’s all I know.”
“And want?” He nods. Though I get the feeling he’s holding back, I know better than to push. “The Circle? I never imagined something like this existed.”
“If you had a choice, would you change coming here?” he asks.
For years I wore layers of clothes to keep from being touched. I kept my distance from other kids and lived in a bubble of loneliness. On a constant search for the family I couldn’t find. Now, I finally have the answers to the questions I spent years yearning for. All of it at the cost of betraying the people who trust in me.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Sometimes, no matter what choice you make, someone loses.” I fidget with the blanket. “Would you redo a moment?”
I wait for him to say that he wouldn’t have told my secret, that he would have kept my confidence. That no matter the reason, it wasn’t worth the cost of the betrayal.
“No,” he says. Disappointment slams into me. “Nothing.”
“Good to know.” Angry at his answer and him, I lash out. “Does Harrison want me dead because of my reading ability?”
“He doesn’t know,” he says. “You have my word.”
“That’s not good enough.” Angry, I think about David and push Ryan for more. “If Harrison had ordered you to kill me, would you have?”
“He never asked me,” he says after a pause.
Bitter and disgusted, I revolt at his answer. “Then I guess I’m lucky.” I move out from beneath the blanket.
“Alexia,” he says, his voice pained. “That’s not what I meant.”
I know I will do whatever it takes to get back to my family. I am in no position to judge. And yet I want him to hate what he did, to redo it if he could. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” he says, then falls silent.
FORTY-SEVEN
“Say something.” Ryan and I stand across from one another. All I can do is beg him. “Please.”
The night cocoons us. I can barely make out his eyes, but somehow know he is in pain. His hand brushes against mine before he drops it. I reach out and grasp it before he can slip it back into his pocket. His fingers tense. Unsure, I release my hold when he tightens them. We are going back and forth, both of us hesitant and uncertain.
“I’m not supposed to care.” His anger cuts through me even as his words warm me. “I tried so hard not to.”
“Because of…” I don’t say Victoria’s name, but she stands between us, and I wonder if she always will. “You love her.”
“Yes.” I flinch then start to turn away. He gently turns me back. “She has always been in my life. But it’s not enough. Not compared to how I feel about…” he pauses. He stops short of saying my name. He runs an agitated hand through his hair. “What kind of person does it make me if I hurt her?”
“I won’t be a choice,” I whisper. “All of us lose in that scenario.”
“Don’t you understand? It has never been a choice.” He takes a step closer until only our breaths fall between us. “Victoria knew from the beginning it was you. It was why she hated you. Why David hated you.”
“And what did you know?” I ask.
He cups my cheek. I close my eyes at his touch. “That I couldn’t stop thinking about you. That I wanted to be around you.” His other hand goes around the back of my neck. “That I wanted to do this.” He pulls me closer until his lips hover over mine.
Ryan bends down slowly, giving me a chance to say no or turn away. But how can I refuse him when I feel the same way? Even when I couldn’t accept it, every part of me knew it.
His arms tighten around me, and I feel safe for the first time in a long time. He gently brings me closer. Drawing on his strength, I allow myself to weaken. At first, Ryan’s lips are soft, but when I moan, he tightens his grip.
Opening up to him, I match his movements with mine. I comb my fingernails down his back. His hand slides up and down my back before tangling in my hair. With a gentle jerk of his hand, he turns my head so he can sink deeper into me. When both of us are out of breath, he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.
“Ryan,” I whisper. I repeat his name, but he doesn’t answer. “Ryan.”
Something slaps against my face. I jerk my eyes open. A rope dangles in front of us. The sun shines brightly. I’m sprawled over him — his body curls into mine. One arm is carelessly thrown over my waist, holding me tight. Sometime during the night, we turned to each other for warmth. The blanket cocoons us as we nestle against one another.
It was a dream, I think. But pain radiates from where his skin touches mine. Only with a vision does it come. I stare at him, trying to understand what I saw. An emotion I don’t have an explanation for coils through me.
The rope swings again, this ti
me hitting him in the face. He jerks awake, staring first at me and then the rope. He slowly drops his arms from around me to grab the line. There’s a return tug from above. “Our rescue,” he says pleased. He quickly ties a knot at the end then turns toward me. Whatever he sees on my face makes him pause. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I break eye contact, but his gaze narrows on mine.
“You’re in pain?” He reaches for my hand, and then stops. “Your eyebrows are scrunched together, and you’re biting your lower lip like when you get…” He glances back at where we laid together. “A vision? Did you read me?” he asks softly. His tone doesn’t hold the anger I would have expected.
“No,” I lie. There is no way for me to explain what I saw or felt. “I had a dream that didn’t make sense. That’s all.” I silently beg for him to believe me.
They swing the rope again, hitting both of us in the process. Impatient, Ryan tugs on it. He gives me another searching glance, but I refuse to react. Finally, he says, “Jump on.”
“You first,” I say. “They came for you.”
“Not going to happen,” he says. “Hop on so we can get out of here.” Frustrated when I shake my head no, he says, “There’s still time for me to throw you over the ledge, in case you were wondering.” He pushes the rope toward me. “Get on, Edmonds.”
“You want me to go up first?” I confirm.
He gives me a dubious look. “Did you think I was joking?”
The vision replays in my head. How can that be our future when I don’t have one at the Circle? How can he care for me when his father hates me? “Tell me why Harrison wants me dead?”
“Because you’re a pain in the ass.” He steps into my space, holding the rope between us. “I’m done arguing with you. Take the rope.”
“Answer the question.”
We are in a standoff. The group tugs harder on the rope, clearly anxious about the delay. Ryan yanks it again to let them know we are coming.
“Let me tell you how this is going to work,” Ryan barks. “If I get on first, they pull me up. Once there, I tell them you fell over the cliff during the night. It was tragic. We mourn and move on. Understand?”
I search his face and see he is not joking. But I need to understand what I saw. Was it just a dream or a vision? I step back from the rope and call his bluff.
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. I see him struggle with his answer. “Harrison insisted you were the enemy.”
I replay all the times Ryan helped me when he didn’t have to. When it would have made more sense for him to walk away. “Why didn’t you believe him?”
He sighs. “I did at first, but every interaction showed you as someone else. I’ve met a lot of fighters at the Circle but very few survivors. No matter what Harrison threw at you, you refused to give up.” He shrugs. “You deserved a chance.”
I hear his pride and wish, more than anything, that I deserved it. He believes in me — something I have never had before. I think about the dream and search the part of me that hopes it’s a vision.
Wanting to protect him from me, from who I am, I yearn to reveal the truth and tell him I am part of the Resistance. Beg him not to protect me. But, knowing it’s not just my life at stake, I hold back.
“Thank you,” I say instead, trying to tell him with those two words how grateful I am. I insist to myself it was a dream — because if it was a vision, then it means I chose Ryan over my mother. My confusion about him cannot be the excuse to fail her. “For everything.”
“What’s going on?” His gaze searches mine.
“Please don’t protect me,” I say the only thing I can. “Not at the cost of the ones who love you.”
“Alexia?”
When there is another tug on the rope, I use it as an excuse to avoid answering his question. Wrapping both hands around the cord, I rest my feet on the knot. I twist the line between my legs to keep steady then pull myself up. Below me, Ryan holds on to the end of the rope to keep me close to the jagged wall for support.
I start my climb slowly until I find my rhythm. Knowing Ryan is still waiting for rescue, I speed up. As soon as I pass an overhanging ledge, the crew comes into sight. They stand in a straight line, gripping the rope tight. When they spot me, they start to pull harder. Sweat lines my palms, making my grip slippery.
“Almost there,” Gavin yells as I near the top.
With only a few feet left, they pull me in. Once at the top, the group circles around me. Samira hugs me tightly. Streaks of dirt line their faces and arms. Their clothes are tattered, making me wonder what they had to do to find another rope.
“Ryan?” Cassia asks. “He’s alive?”
“Yes,” I promise. “He’s fine. Waiting for the rope.”
Relief floods everyone’s face. I find a space on the line and grip the end with both hands. There’s a tug, and then the rope gets heavy as it takes on Ryan’s weight. I dig my feet into the ground to keep my balance.
“Pull harder,” Gavin orders us. “Just a few more feet.”
The rope gets heavier as Ryan nears the top. We use all of our strength to keep pulling until Ryan comes into sight. A roar of approval erupts, and there are sighs of relief.
Near the top, Ryan jumps over the ledge and lands on his feet. The crew surrounds him, doling out one-arm hugs. When he reaches me, we give each other a nod of relief. He was right — they did come for us.
“We thought you two were goners.” Hudson loops the rope and stuffs it into his bag.
“Where did you get the rope?” I ask. “I thought I had the only one from the bin.”
“You did,” he answers. “We followed the water downstream until we spotted the one from the bridge.” He holds up my backpack. “And found this.”
Relieved, I glance inside. The phone is still encased inside the plastic covering, protected from the water. “Thanks.”
“It took us all night to make the hike there and back.” Tears glisten in Phoenix’s eyes.
A knot of fear forms in my gut. Their faces are drawn and broken. Ryan stands next to me. Our shoulders touch, and the vision from the morning comes quickly to mind. I push it away just as fast.
“What happened?” he asks.
“When we were searching…” Phoenix pauses.
Samira struggles with her words. “Henry slipped and fell into the water. The force was too fast.” Everyone wipes away their tears. “We searched all night.”
“No.” I reel back at the news. All of Ryan’s reassurances from the ledge no longer matter. My feeling led to the decision. It was my vote that led us on this path. Shane and now Henry are my fault. “I’m so sorry.” But I know it’s not enough. It never will be.
Gavin holds up the second crystal. “It was at the foot of the bridge on the other side. The bridge was the route we had to take to find the crystal.”
Samira adds, “We all took the vote. We all chose to walk on the bridge. Henry knew the risks, like the rest of us.”
The backpack weighs heavy in my hands. None of them knew that a phone was waiting for them to use. They had the means to save Henry. I thought I had saved a life, but I only switched one for another. I played with lives without knowing the consequences. Ryan is wrong — I’m not a hero. I am someone who is in way over her head. And I have no idea how to get out.
FORTY-EIGHT
We search for an area to make camp. The region is desolate. There are charred, abandoned homes everywhere. I imagine it was once a neighborhood with a local park. Now it is deserted with no sign of life. In the distance, a plume of smoke rises into the air.
“The other group?” Samira wonders aloud.
Ryan assesses it. “Has to be. Looks like a campfire.”
“Is this what it’s like where you came from?” Samira asks as we continue walking.
We pass what used to be a
town center. A welcome sign barely hangs off one nail and sways back and forth in the light wind. Restaurants and shops sit empty as if one day everyone just walked out and never came back. Placards read “Open” on the glass walls, with hours of operation listed. But there are no indications of life inside. Not a mouse or insect search for food.
“Not like this,” I whisper, my volume matching hers. Samira swivels, searching, afraid someone is watching us. “Where I came from, people are living their lives.” I look around. “This is like a ghost town.”
“What happened here? What drove everyone out?”
But there are no answers. We continue to follow Ryan as he leads us through the rest of the town and back into the throng of trees. Everyone visibly relaxes, clearly happier to be lost in the forest.
“Do you smell that?” Shane asks. When we give him a curious look, he sniffs the air. “Chicken. Cheese. Chocolate.”
The smell wafts through the air. “It’s getting stronger.”
A break in the trees reveals an array of tables set up in the middle of a large clearing. Each one filled with every food imaginable and a fountain of drinks.
Shane heads for it when Gavin stops him. “It could be a trap.”
“A trap?” Shane swallows, unsure. On cue, his stomach grumbles loudly. “We can’t just stare at it.”
With the sun beating down on us, my mouth starts to water as I imagine drinking my fill.
“We don’t know why it’s here.” Fatigue and wariness lace Gavin’s words.
Shane tosses a branch toward the middle of the setup. It hits a table and knocks over a bowl of apples. They roll a few feet in different directions before stopping in the grass. Nothing else happens.
“Well, that’s good enough for me,” he says. “I’ll take the sacrificial taste test. One for the team.” He crosses the threshold then heads straight for the nearest table. He dips a chicken leg into a white sauce then takes a healthy bite. He starts to chew then slowly drops the chicken leg back onto the table. His eyes well with unshed tears. “Henry would have loved this. Food was his favorite thing in life.”
