The Reverians Series Boxed Set

by Sarah Noffke

  I’m dressed and back in the kitchen within three minutes. I need to refill my canteen and food supplies and then get Em, my horse, ready for the ride.

  “You didn’t brush your hair,” Soon-hee says to me with a blatant look of disapproval.

  “I brushed my teeth though,” I say, flashing a toothy grin at her.

  “But your hair…”

  “Oh, what’s the point,” I say, shoving a strand of loose curls off my shoulder. “It’s not like it can be controlled anyway. And I’m just going to tie it up as soon as I get going.”

  “The point is you’re going to show up looking like mess.”

  I give her a blank stare. “And…?”

  “And who’s going to take you seriously as romantic prospect if you look like dirty cowgirl?”

  A laugh bursts from my mouth. “I’m leading a war. I’m trying to free thousands of Defects from abuse and even more Middlings from brainwashing. My dance card is the last thing on my mind right now,” I say.

  Soon-hee shakes her head and hands me a steaming cup of tea; it’s something herbal with spicy overtones. She must have brought it with her in her meager bag. “Drink that. It will keep up your energy and also is good for improving fertility.”

  Tea spurts out of my mouth as I choke on a cough. “Are you hard of hearing or is your understanding of English that bad?”

  A sliver of a smile etches her thin lips.

  “My fertility is the last of my concerns,” I say, embarrassment making my face flush with heat.

  “Just because that boy died doesn’t mean you have to let romance die for you too,” Soon-hee says.

  “Rogue wasn’t a boy,” I say, bitterness taking residence in my tone.

  She shrugs me off as she stirs something in a pot. “Young-chol, Ji-hoon’s father, was my second husband. My first died when we’d only been married a year.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”

  “It was,” she says matter-of-factly. “But hearts mend. You think they won’t. You fear what you will be if they do. Are you heartless to move on? That’s what you wonder. What will people think if you aren’t always grieving? But you are human. Born to love.” She has abandoned the simmering pot of whatever and is now digging in her bag. Her words stir something in me and I find myself agreeing with a nod. I grab the protein bars I keep in the cupboard and stick them in my bag.

  Soon-hee points to the protein bar I hold in my hand. “That stuff isn’t real food. I won’t even tell you how bad it blocks up your intestines,” she says, brandishing a comb and making for my hair.

  “I think you just did,” I say and duck away from her attempts to run the comb through my long hair. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s a comb. You’ve seen one before, haven’t you, Em?”

  I shake my head with a laugh and strap the bag across my back. “Let’s play beauty parlor the next time I visit. I’ve got to get going.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she says, dropping the comb on the counter. “When should I expect you back?”

  “Not sure. Depends on when I can get away. Our next dream travel meeting is in a week though. You can let me know how it’s going then and if you have any problems.”

  We set up a schedule for Soon-hee and me to meet by dream traveling to this house every Saturday night. I can check on the house and animals for a little peace of mind and she can give me her long list of complaints and demands.

  “And during these meetings you can tell me how it’s going as well,” she says with a strange wink and giddy smile.

  “What? How the war effort is going?” I ask, confused by her behavior, which I rarely understand.

  “No,” she says, waving her hand through the air. “Who cares about that?”

  “Uhhh…I do. I’m kind of staking my life on it.”

  She shakes her head. “I meant how it’s going with my son. Clever thinking on your part.”

  I stare at her again vacantly. “What are you talking about?”

  “Getting me out of the house. Much more romantic for you two,” she says.

  My mouth pops open. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You think Parker and I have something going on?”

  She taps the side of her head with two fingers. “I know.”

  “Well, I hate to be the one to break this news to you, but you’re going senile, Soon-hee.”

  She giggles, one that makes her look suddenly twenty years younger. “Oh, then why you come to house all the time? Always demanding things from Ji-hoon? You even convinced him to stay and not leave Valley,” she says with a triumphant conviction.

  “Because,” I say slowly, “I’m leading a war and I need Parker. He’s playing a critical role.”

  “Aw,” she says with enthusiasm. “You only one to call him that. Everyone else call him doctor.”

  “He asked me to.”

  “That’s because he want you to see him as a man, not your doctor. Umma know,” she says proudly, patting her chest.

  I shake my head at her. “Parker and I are only working together and besides, he’s so much older than me. We’re friends.”

  “He’s not too much older. He’s smart. Graduate young.”

  “Look, you really should stop taking all those herbs. I think they’re messing with your head.”

  “Yes, sure,” she says, giving me a knowing nod. “I crazy old lady who know nothing. You smart young girl who know everything.”

  “Yes, exactly. Thanks for getting it so quickly,” I say, readjusting my bag. “I’ve got to go. Take care of the animals. Ride Zack if you need to go to town. I left you instructions on the table.”

  “Oh, yes. An old Korean lady riding an Arabian horse into town. That will draw no attention.”

  “Well, then go without toilet paper. I don’t care.” I turn and head for the door.

  “Oh, Em?”

  “Yes,” I say, daring to turn around. Soon-hee is wearing a cunning smile. “He make good husband. Strong loins. Smart genes.”

  I shake my head at her. “Yeah, but crazy runs in the family for sure,” I say as I rush out the door, wintery winds blasting me in the face.

  Chapter Four

  Only stopping once, I arrive back in Austin Valley the next morning. Twice I almost nodded off while Em managed the rough Oregon terrain. That’s when I stopped to give her a break while I peeled off my outer shirt and jacket and other layers until I was down to only a tank top. I figured if I was freezing my tail off then I’d be less likely to accidentally fall asleep, which would probably result in me falling from the horse and sustaining multiple injuries, if not death.

  The hike back into the Valley threatens to undo me, to conquer my resilient motivation. I almost wish Soon-hee was alongside me, complaining about how slow and weak I am. She made this hike out of the Valley actually look easy, which surprised me since I was sure I’d have to assist her on the eight-mile trek.

  One more step, I tell myself. And another and another. Just take it one step at a time.

  I’m too sluggish to hide properly from passersby, as I usually do when traveling through the Valley. For this reason I take the longer, less traveled route, along the bordering outskirts of the town. It adds another half mile to my journey. My legs feel like lead by the time I take the last step of this round trip and clamber through Zack’s back door. He’s at work. I should be too. Who knows how long Ren can delay conversions during my absence.

  Shaking the exhaustion from my body, I head straight for the shower. It’s the only way I know how to make myself feel brand new again after the last few long days. My bed, draped with an overstuffed down comforter, looks like a frosted cake to a starving human right now. I’d give almost anything to crawl between the covers and hibernate for the next twelve hours. I’d give almost anything, but not the freedom of my people, so I trudge past the bed with one last look of longing and into the bathroom.

  For the first month following Rogue’s death I lived in the old campgrounds. I need
ed to be close to the Valley for the war efforts, but I also craved the idea of living alone. It was critical that as often as possible I was alone with my pain. Somehow my instinct told me to become acquainted with the pain. When in the company of others I forced it to the bottom of my soul, but alone I wore it on the surface, feeling it like a constant companion. The first time I lost Rogue, when I was thirteen, I cried for a solid week. I wasn’t afforded that luxury now. The Defects couldn’t see their leader as a grief-stricken, blubbering mess. And so I created a divide.

  Winter then swept through the Valley, covering everything with a fine layer of frost each morning. Up in the hills, I found it impossible to get warm enough to sleep through the night. All my nights were spent dream traveling, but never to anywhere exotic or fun. I traveled to dark alleys in the inner cities or abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of a rundown rural area. My eyes couldn’t bear to see things full of color and life.

  Zack began to urge me to move out of the campground and into his house. He worried that the cold was going to make me sick. His face was etched with concern at our every meeting.

  “You can’t have me here full-time,” I told him after he all but demanded that I stop taking the three-mile trek every night to shiver alone in a tent. “It’s too risky. Someone might see me and then your cover will be blown.”

  “Then it will be blown and I’ll deal with the repercussions,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “You’re putting your body through unnecessary stress. Six miles of hiking a day. No running water. No heat. It’s insane, Em. It’s illogical.”

  I swallowed down a tender bit of stubborn pride. In my mind I saw myself alone with my pain and the tears. It was my nightly ritual to cuddle up with the two until the shivering took over my thoughts, distracting me from the loss. Bitterly, I shook my head at Zack.

  He pressed his eyelids together and sighed. When he opened them there was a new spark there. “Look, think about how much more productive you can be if you don’t have to commute in and out of the Valley every day. If you’re rested then you’ll be even more effective.” His voice was coated in a convincing tone. It almost won me over immediately, but my pride was strong. It knew what I wanted more than anything.

  “I can’t stay here. I need to be alone. It’s for my own good,” I said, turning to face the covered window. We kept them all closed all the time, so no one ever spied me in the house. I wanted sunlight. I wanted to feel the house open and airy. And I wanted that for Zack too. He couldn’t live properly with me here.

  A whole minute passed before Zack spoke. “Fine. But I wish you’d stop grieving alone. You’re not the only one who cared about him.”

  I swung around to catch Zack’s denim-blue eyes swelled with tears. He blinked rapidly and strode for the kitchen.

  Him. That’s how Zack always referred to Rogue. He never said his name, only used nondescript pronouns. It felt as though, for Zack, if he said Rogue’s name, something would be final about his death. I, on the other hand, said his name too much. I referenced him in my speeches in the meetings. I referred to him when speaking to the Defects and also in casual conversation. For me, I needed to talk about Rogue. To keep his memory alive in me.

  I knew, not by looking out the window, but rather by the clock on the wall, that the sun was setting. It was time for me to leave the Valley. I had a long-standing appointment with my pain. We always rendezvoused at the same time. What would it be like if I changed our meeting location? Would I even be able to feel my grief here inside of Zack’s house? Would I allow myself?

  As quietly as I could I padded to the kitchen and opened the swinging door a few inches. I could just barely make out Zack leaning his back against the countertop, his head in his hands. Heavy breaths made his chest rise and fall. Inside me something suddenly chiseled away, making it clear who I’d become. I was a statue to the Rebels, but Zack knew I was laced with cracks. And ever since I could remember, Zack had always been like me. He too appeared as hard as rock, but I knew better. I just hadn’t allowed myself to see it until just then. I’d been too consumed with my own pain, selfishly harboring it.

  I pushed the door all the way open and stood staring at Zack. He didn’t look up at me, although I’m certain he knew I was there. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.

  His hands slipped from his face as he simultaneously turned, putting his back to me. Pinning his palms on the countertop he took a deep shuddering breath. “It’s fine, Em.”

  It was always fine with Zack. Always. But it wasn’t fine this time. When Rogue disappeared, when we were younger, Zack and I bonded. We spent every spare minute talking, grieving, healing together. But this time I retreated. I left him alone to mourn. And I think I even convinced myself that my pain was greater than his this time. How could anyone love Rogue more than I did? But that was a fatal error because Rogue was infectious. Everyone loved him. Well, not his father, but everyone else who knew Rogue was instantly endeared to him. And Zack especially shared a bond with Rogue. A brotherly one that I didn’t even understand.

  I walked until I was next to Zack. His posture straightened. I slipped my hand on to his and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “It’s fine,” Zack said through gritted teeth. He was trying hard to hold back his emotions, his disappointment.

  “No it’s not. The way I’ve retreated isn’t fine. I ran away. And I shouldn’t have. I should have been here for you. I should have let you be there for me. Allow me to be sorry for that,” I said.

  Zack turned and regarded me with heavy eyes. “Em, we all have to grieve in our own ways. I don’t fault you for that.”

  “No, you wouldn’t, would you? But I fault me. I haven’t been a good friend,” I said.

  “How are you?” he asked, searching my eyes. “The truth.”

  It was such a simple question and one I hadn’t even given Zack the opportunity to ask me in a month’s time. And such a simple question brought a torrent of tears to my eyes. Without an answer I rushed forward, burying my sopping cheeks in his shirt. His arms wrapped around me and it was then that I realized this was the first time I’d allowed anyone to hug me since Rogue died. Nona tried. Zack tried. Hell, even Parker offered me a hug a few days after Rogue died. But I refused contact. Refused to acknowledge openly that I would need the comfort of others.

  Finally, after a full minute of sobbing in his arms, I pushed back, my face hot from tears. “I’m awful and finally ready to admit it.” Zack stared down at me with a tender remorse and nodded. “How are you?” I asked.

  He stepped back a few more inches and drilled his gaze at the floor. Shook his head as if in disbelief. “It feels like a cruel joke. He was gone and then back and now he’s gone again. It’s unfair,” Zack said.

  I nodded, noting the way he still didn’t say Rogue’s name.

  “The night Rogue died,” I said, my voice feeling tattered, “he whispered something to you. What was it?”

  Zack’s eyes tightened. “He wasn’t speaking rationally. He was drugged.”

  “But what did he say?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” Zack said.

  “Not now?” I asked.

  “Not ever.”

  The finality of his statement sent me on a more fervent hunt for the information. “He said you don’t take chances. I heard that part,” I said, eyeing Zack, waiting to watch him squirm.

  He didn’t give me the reaction I was hoping for. Instead, he dismissed me with a rough shake of his head. “Like I said, he wasn’t speaking logically. He was incoherent. Of course I take risks.”

  I scrutinized him for a few seconds. “Rogue was completely coherent. You forget I was there when he died.”

  “I would never forget that,” Zack said, and again I saw the pain he’d been harboring, not properly dealing with. It reminded me so much of my own grief.

  And then a strange guilt crawled up the inside of my chest. “I’m sorry for asking about what Rogue said to you,�
� I said, realizing at once how personal a moment that must have been for the two of them.

  “Em,” Zack said, looking at me. “It’s getting late. If you’re hiking to camp I want you to leave soon.”

  I reached out and slid my hand into his. “Why would I leave when I obviously need to stay with my best friend?”

  A relieved smile touched his mouth. “Thank the gods. I finally won’t have to worry about you out there all night.”

  Chapter Five

  I slide in through the back entrance to the lab for the Conversion department. It’s supposed to be solely for deliveries. Ren waits in his normal spot. His back is leaned up against the tiled wall, knee bent and foot kicked up behind him.

  “You’re late,” he says when his eyes land on me. I’m breathless from jogging all the way here.

  “Oh, how did I sleep? I didn’t,” I say to him. “How am I feeling? Exhausted. Thanks for asking.”

  He rolls his emerald green eyes and kicks off the wall. “Just because you had to break in a new housekeeper doesn’t mean I need to show you any sympathies.”

  “What’s it going to take to earn an ounce of your sympathy?” I say.

  He strokes his red goatee, staring off with deliberate consideration. Finally he throws his hand in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got absolutely nothing. Maybe something will come to me.”

  “I doubt it,” I say, taking off down the sterile white hallway.

  “If anyone deserves sympathy then it’s me,” Ren says, ambling up next to me. “Do you know how incredibly difficult it’s been to delay these doctors from converting patients? They’re starting to grow suspicious of my presence already and now I’ve got to convince them there’s some delay.”

  “Well, I’m sure that has been difficult and I’m sorry for the trouble it’s caused you, but it was necessary,” I say.

  Ren regards me with a look of astonished confusion. “So that’s how that apology bit works. No one has ever really said it to me before. You play it off like you mean it.”

  It’s my turn to roll my eyes at him. “I do mean it. When you cause someone stress then you feel bad and try and make amends with your words.”