Unraveled

by Gennifer Albin

  “It’s a gift.”

  He doesn’t look like he’s in a very giving mood—this is clearly the other man’s idea—and I shake my head once more, even as Amie squeezes my arm. She wants me to accept. I want to, too, but I also know how valuable a motocycle would be out here.

  “It’s a generous offer,” I say, “but I can’t take them from you. You need them.”

  “Miss Lewys, I don’t know how you did what you did,” the other man says. “And I know there are a lot of rumors flying around about what happened in Arras between you and Patton. Not everyone here likes you.”

  So I’ve been recognized. I knew it would happen as the survivors’ shock dulled. I’d been on every screen in Arras only weeks before its destruction.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I’m not one of those people, and I want to say thank you,” the man says. He keeps his gaze level with mine; his eyes don’t blink, as though he’s challenging me to decline his offer again.

  “Thank you.” I don’t say anything else. I know what it’s like to feel like you have nothing to offer someone in need. I know how hard it is to even say thank you.

  The motocycles are slick, large beasts, recovered from Guild warehouses near the abandoned mine sites. Chrome tubes twist along their bodies and even parked they look nearly as large as motocarriages. The man gives Amie and me a tutorial on how to ride them. I don’t tell him that I’ve ridden one before or that I’m terrified of it now. Both because I don’t want to look ungrateful and to set a good example for my sister. More than anything she needs to see that I’m strong and capable in this world. The engine hums to life between my legs, the vibration traveling up through my fingers and dying on their damaged tips, and I grip the handles tightly and kick off from the dirt. We roar forward to our last hope.

  With the motocycles the journey to the outpost takes only a few hours. We have a compass to guide us, but it doesn’t take us long to see signs of life. Now that the population of Earth has grown exponentially, travel between the new outposts is more common. And with the number of refugees and wounded on Earth, more and more people are reaching out to the fledgling communities that surround them. We pass two young men walking down the road toward the camp we came from. They wave hello and I slow to speak to them.

  “We heard there’s a camp full of the wounded ahead.”

  “We have a few, miss. They were at the battle of Allia.”

  My heart beats hard, and I’m sure it can be heard over the roar of the engine. The Eastern capital. That was where Cormac unleashed his forces. I know Erik and Jost were there.

  “Can we give you a ride?” Amie asks.

  “No, miss.” The boy smiles widely at her, and I realize, with more than a little apprehension, that he thinks she’s pretty.

  It’s still hard to fathom that my baby sister is nearly as old as I am now. Or that she’s grown into a young woman. It had been only months for me that we were separated, but it’s been years for her. She grew up while I wasn’t looking.

  “We should go, Amie.”

  She shoots me an annoyed, if amused, look. Maybe I do know how to protect her.

  The camp isn’t far ahead and we park the bikes outside the tents.

  “You know, there aren’t purity standards here,” Amie tells me, poking me in the arm. “I can talk to boys.”

  “It’s not the talking to boys I’m worried about,” I say dryly.

  “I’m not the one stalking across half the world looking for a boy.” Amie claps a hand over her mouth. I know she wishes she could take it back, but I roll my eyes, unwilling to betray the stab of pain in my chest. Her accusation hurts because it’s true.

  We don’t talk about Erik. She hasn’t asked me about him since we’ve been on Earth, but love is one emotion that leaves its marks on you. Even my kid sister can see them.

  “That’s why I’m worried about you,” I say. “Trust me, this isn’t something I want for you.”

  Amie stops me and studies my face for a moment. “You love him?”

  No matter how I frame these trips as being about finding Sebrina, I hope to find him, too. And she can see that, so I nod.

  “Why wouldn’t you want that for me?” she asks. “We were lucky to grow up with parents who loved each other, Ad. It’s okay to be in love.”

  I can only give her a tiny smile. I don’t tell her that this is killing me. Not knowing. Pretending to be strong when I need to crumble. That this is what love is: vulnerability.

  “About purity standards,” Amie says, changing the subject.

  “Yes?”

  “Any chance you still meet them?”

  “You saw Erik,” I say, grinning despite myself. “What do you think?”

  “Forget I asked.”

  Zigzagging through the tents, we stop to speak to survivors, looking for directions and tips like we’ve done in every camp thus far. At the base of one tent, a woman eyes us warily as we approach.

  “Hello,” I say, trying to sound friendly. “We’re looking for some survivors from Allia. We think they might be here. Two—”

  “Don’t know anything about two brothers,” she says.

  I look at Amie. I hadn’t said anything about brothers. I push down my mounting suspicion, but I can’t bring myself to say anything. Or I’ll want to accuse the woman of lying.

  “Are you sure?” Amie asks. Her tone is naturally kinder than mine.

  “Nope.”

  “Thanks anyway,” I say, grabbing Amie’s arm and dragging her off. I know the woman is watching us.

  “What was that about?” Amie ponders out loud.

  “They have to be here,” I say through gritted teeth. My eyes dart between the tents and before I can stop myself I start lifting the flaps and looking inside them. More than a few people yell at me, but I wave an apologetic hand and continue looking.

  “Why would she lie to us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  When I lift the next flap, I’m staring at Alix.

  She’s chopped her long blond hair into a bob and she’s dressed in jeans and an old flannel shirt. No one would think this woman is a threat, but I don’t know what to think of her at all. I know she’s capable of force, and of deception. That’s why I’m not surprised to see her here. I’ve thought Alix was hiding something since she showed up in Cormac’s offices. Why else would she take off as soon as we reached the surface?

  “Adelice,” she says, but the shock in her voice is manufactured. She knew I would come.

  “What are you hiding?” I demand, ducking into her tent.

  “It’s nice to see you, too.” She stands to greet me, but I don’t take her extended hand. She turns and offers it to Amie, who accepts it with an uncomfortable glance in my direction.

  “Is he here?” I ask her. I know she had a history with Erik, but would she keep me from him after what’s happened?

  Alix turns away from me and rakes a hand through her loose hair. When she speaks, her voice is low and distant. “Erik is dead.”

  I die in that moment. Amie’s arm wraps around my waist, but I push her away. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to erase the words from my head.

  “You’re lying,” I accuse.

  Alix rounds on me and there are tears in her eyes. “I wish I was lying.”

  And then I know it’s true, because I can see her heart is broken. I hear it in her voice. I see it in the absence behind her eyes. I feel it in the hollow of my stomach.

  “What happened?” Amie asks because I can’t.

  “I’m not sure. I wasn’t there,” she says, reaching down to retrieve a bag from the ground. “Come on.”

  We follow her out of the tent. Each step is automatic. I follow her because I should. I don’t care where we’re going.

  “How can you know he’s dead?” Amie asks her. “If you weren’t there.”

  A spark of hope flares in my chest. Why hadn’t I thought to ask that?

  “I saw his body.”


  The tiny flicker dies.

  “Where is it?” I ask.

  “I buried it.”

  I don’t ask her where. It doesn’t matter. Erik isn’t there anymore. I try to remember what Loricel told me about people who die naturally. A piece of them fades back into the universe. Had I watched him fade away with Arras as I stood on the surface of Earth? No, Alix said she buried him, so he must have made it here.

  “Wait,” I say, grabbing Alix’s wrist and twisting it. “You told me you didn’t know where he was. The night of Protocol Three.”

  “I didn’t know where he was then.”

  “But when you found out, you didn’t send for me?” I accuse.

  “This isn’t Arras,” Alix reminds me. “I can’t shoot you a telebound. He’s dead, Adelice. I can’t change that.”

  She can’t change it, and it’s not her fault. But I need to be angry with someone, because the pain is building like an inferno desperate for oxygen. I want it to consume me and destroy me.

  “Where are we going?” Amie asks, trying to change the subject.

  Alix stops in front of a large canopy made of a variety of canvases patched together. She gestures for us to enter. Inside lie rows of makeshift cots full of the wounded and the recovering, and Alix marches down one. A few volunteers stop her to ask questions. Obviously Alix has stepped up to a leadership position in this camp.

  “You were Agenda the whole time,” I say finally.

  “No, I was turned,” she says.

  “By whom?” I ask.

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  I want her to say it. Was it Erik who convinced her to betray Cormac? How had he convinced her? What promises passed between them? There were more layers to discover about him. Now I can only uncover those secrets through her.

  “Adelice.” Alix turns and stares at me. “I understand you have questions, but there’s only one thing you need to know. Erik loved you.”

  “I know that.” It’s the only thing that feels real.

  “Nothing else matters, then.”

  In the void left by his death this seems impossible to comprehend. Of course other things mattered. Because without answers there was only the aching absence of him. If answers could fill the void, I would keep searching for them.

  But even as I thought it, I knew that they never would.

  “Nothing I can say will bring him back to you, and there are other things to consider.”

  “Like what?” I bark. Alix has had weeks to deal with this loss. But it’s a naked wound for me and I don’t need her to lecture me on how to handle it. Maybe she can forget, but I can’t. I’ve been asked to forget too many people already.

  “Like him.” Alix points to the cot she’s stopped beside. I turn angrily to the bed and the sight sucks the breath from me.

  He’s badly injured, a thick wind of gauze around his head, dried blood coating the outside. I drop to Jost’s side and push the hair from his face, revealing the telltale marks of battle already scarring along his jaw. He’s healing quickly, but the damage is extensive.

  “Jost?” My voice is barely a whisper over the pounding of my heart.

  “You didn’t lose everyone,” Alix reminds me.

  I am not alone to tell the story. This thought crowds into the empty space inside me, threatening to spill over into joy.

  “Will he live?” I ask Alix, and as if to answer my question, Jost’s hand jerks forward and grabs mine.

  “Jost?” This time I’m calling to him, asking him to hear me.

  There’s a flutter of lashes and he opens his mouth, but no words come out, only a groan.

  “He’s in bad shape,” Alix says, “but he’s a fighter and he has a good reason to live.”

  “Sebrina,” I guess.

  “She’s here. You missed her by about five minutes.”

  “She’s staying with you?”

  “I’m looking after her,” she says, “until Jost gets better.”

  “I promised to take care of her. We’ve been looking for her for weeks. You disappeared before you told me where she was,” I say.

  “She’s safe here,” Alix says, but I shake my head.

  Even if Jost recovers, this is my promise to him.

  “Ad.” The nickname is spoken so impossibly quietly that I think I must have imagined I heard it slip from his lips.

  “I’m here.” I lean down to Jost, placing my other hand over the one clutching mine.

  “You have to take care of Sebrina,” he says.

  “I told you I would,” I remind him softly.

  “I don’t think I can do it,” he says. His hand begins to tremble in mine and a seizure rolls through his body. A medic rushes over and gives him a shot.

  “I’m sorry, but he’ll go back to sleep now,” he explains.

  “It’s okay. I’ll be here awhile.”

  “He’ll sleep for a long time,” he warns me.

  “Will he get better?”

  “His injuries are severe, and some of the work is extensive.”

  “Work?” I ask.

  “It looks like a Tailor tried to heal some of his wounds,” Alix says, stepping in.

  “A Tailor?” I ask in horror.

  “We’re not all bad,” the medic says with a wink, and I realize with some embarrassment that of course this man would be a Tailor. “Your friend will be fine.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “We should let him sleep,” Alix says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I pull away from her.

  “I need a few minutes alone with him, okay?”

  The medic and Alix exchange a look, but they do as I ask.

  “I’ll be with Alix,” Amie says. She leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

  Once they’re gone I turn my attention back to Jost. Some of the scars are barely visible while others streak angrily across his shoulders. I pull the sheet down to examine his chest. The marks extend there. Whatever happened to him, it was serious. Despite the medic’s reassurances that he will live, dread steals through me. How had he survived this? How exactly was he altered?

  “Sebrina.” Her name barely escapes his dry lips.

  “She’s fine,” I say to him. “Alix is watching her.”

  “Promise me like you promised him,” Jost mumbles.

  I’m not sure what he’s trying to tell me. The drugs they’ve given him must be making him delirious.

  “Promise you’ll care for her,” he repeats.

  “I promise, Jost.” The weight of the vow is heavy on my chest, but he seems to relax, his hand loosening over my own.

  “But you have to fight, Jost,” I say. “For her. For me.”

  “Never stop…” His words are a maze of sounds, losing me in his drugged haze. “You.”

  “Rest,” I command, placing a gentle kiss on his bruised cheek. He goes to sleep then, and I stand to leave him, wondering what he meant by “never stop you.”

  But the thought that haunts me can’t be possible.

  TWENTY-NINE

  NIGHT FALLS, STEALING AWAY EARTH’S SUN UNTIL another day dawns. It always feels like the darkness settles too soon over this healing planet, but I’m grateful that the camp grows quiet. People return to their makeshift homes and tents. Amie falls asleep in the one loaned to us by someone with a kinder heart than mine, and I sneak out to the edge of the camp where the world is still and the air hangs like a heavy black blanket. This is where I can see the stars.

  Alix appears, moving so softly through the darkness that I’m unaware of her until she’s nearly by my side. She thrusts a tattered bag into my hands.

  “What is this?” I ask her, tired of her lies and secrets.

  “Open it.”

  “I don’t want it.” There is nothing she can give me anymore. Not answers or guidance, and certainly not hope.

  “You aren’t the only one with a broken heart,” she says in a soft voice.

  I don’t look at her. It
doesn’t take much to know when someone is in love, especially when that person is in love with the same man as you. It doesn’t soften my feelings toward her, though.

  “Is that why you won’t tell me how he died?” I ask her. “Because you can’t share his last moments?”

  Alix takes a step toward me, and when she speaks her voice is low. “Do you think that he would want you to share that? He died for Jost, so that his brother could live.”

  Her eyes are heavy as she confesses this, full of a burden that I don’t quite understand.

  “Then why not tell me where Jost was? Why keep it hidden?”

  “I’m sorry that I was presumptuous about Jost and his wishes,” she says, skirting my question.

  I stop her. “You weren’t presumptuous. You were purposeful. Deliberate. You knew what he wanted. You knew I was alive. I know that. The only thing I don’t know is why you kept the truth from me.”

  Alix opens her mouth but then shuts it again, turning back toward the camp.

  “Take this,” I call to her, holding out the bag.

  “I have no claim to that,” Alix says. “I’ll be gone by morning. Take care of Sebrina. Jost will be strong soon.”

  I should argue with her, try to stop her, but instead I let her fade into the night while I consider her words. She felt she had a claim on Jost. That’s why she kept him from me, but I’m not sure why. Except that he’s the last piece of Erik left. I consider the growing ache that only exacerbates the hollowness inside of me instead of filling it. That’s why she kept Jost from me and why she won’t tell me about Erik’s final moments.

  Moments that are as much mine as they are hers. So what can she possibly give me now? What doesn’t she have a claim on? I tip the bag upside down and let its contents fall to the earth. It nestles there catching moonlight and reflecting it like a beacon, unwanted but undeniable in its potential.

  A small crystal box.

  THIRTY

  BUILDINGS ARE BORN FROM SCRAPS AND FOUND materials. Babies are born to mothers. Earth blooms into a world of promise instead of mere potential as each of us rebuilds from what’s been left behind. I expected to find myself more alone than ever before. But there are people who fill my time with emergencies and concerns and even laughter.