ARC: The Almost Girl

by Amalie Howard

  “So what are you saying? We can’t get out?”

  “Not there, not anymore. We need to regroup and rethink.” I stare at her, my eyes narrowed. Her last betrayal is still an open wound, and despite her earlier words about trusting me, I can’t trust her for a second where Caden is concerned. “What do you mean, you got a text? From who?”

  “A Guardian.” Shae doesn’t offer any more explanation other than those two words, but I continue to press. It’s not enough for me. I need to know what her plans are and who her friends are… and whether they, too, will toss me over to the Vectors the first chance they get. I have no doubt they would know exactly who I am. Plus, Guardians are solitary in nature and spread out in this world. More than one in any one area is an anomaly.

  “Another Guardian? At Horrow?”

  A glare in response to my doggedness. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  Shae stands wearily. If she’s in pain, she certainly doesn’t show it, but I know that she’s operating on pure will right now. The stabilization pills on top of the injector would have helped slow her heartbeat and numb most of the pain. People always used to say I was the tough one, “the ice queen,” they’d called me. But Shae’s got a core of solid steel – she could probably outlast me ten times over on sheer will alone. Only, I remember now that Shae isn’t operating just on will; she’s got a body packed full of an explosive cocktail of meds.

  “Shae, the pills–”

  “I know what I’m doing,” she growls.

  “Do you?” I say gently, and follow as she moves to the back of the warehouse to throw open a door to a small wooden shed that I had noticed upon my first look around. She pulls out a grungy half-rusted dirt bike and then another. Then she stops to look at me.

  “I’m dying, Riven. My body is dying. I can feel it. It’s been through too much.” Her words are no surprise, but I’m shaken all the same. They echo in the sudden dead silence between us.

  “We can go to a clinic, the one where June worked. They’ll help you.”

  A strained laugh. “Are you kidding? And what will they do when they find strange fluids and medicine from the injector inside of me that don’t even exist here? That’s only going to draw more attention to us… to Caden. As far as I see, I’ve got about one more solid fight in me, and I’m not going to go down without it.” Her eyes meet mine. “Actually, I don’t intend to go down at all if I can help it, and if by some miracle, I make it back to Neospes, maybe… he… Father or someone else can help…”

  Perhaps it’s the blunt admission that she’s dying, but I have no idea what comes over me as I grab Shae so tightly that we both almost fall over. She stinks of blood and gore and Vector fluid, but all I can smell is the scent of lilacs and sunshine and horse-riding leather – the scent of our childhood – and it’s nearly my undoing. Shoving her away roughly without daring to meet her eyes, I hoist myself onto one of the bikes and grunt over my shoulder, “You OK to ride?”

  “Yes,” she says. I keep my eyes downcast. My thoughts are heavy and spinning. Wanting to kill an enemy, even if the enemy is my sister, is far different from knowing that I will lose her regardless… knowing that she’s going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.

  Do I?

  A dull ache takes hold of my forehead and nose, and then my eyes are stinging with an unfamiliar soreness. I thought I had purged all emotion after the betrayal of my father, but the hot sadness snaking through my veins right now screams otherwise. I gun the engine, letting the roar of it dull my thoughts and the vibrations beneath me soothe my knife-edged anguish.

  Emotion is weakness, my inner voice says. She’s just a person, nothing more.

  She’s my sister.

  One who betrayed you.

  I would have done the same.

  She’ll betray you again.

  I don’t have an answer. The argument bounces off the walls of my brain… the logical side of me saying that the odds are Shae will deceive me again. But this previously dormant side, this quiet feeling side, argues otherwise. Still, despite my unexpected compassion, deep down I know that it’s too late for either of us. She’s dying and I’ll have to let her go when the time comes.

  Shae’s bike growls past me and I follow her down the dirt road that leads to a main road. It’s deserted. I glance down at my watch. It’s early, just before 6 in the morning on a Wednesday. Shae doesn’t stay on the main road, and soon we’re off on another circuitous gravelly road that winds up into the base of the Rockies. Even though there are barely any other people around, she isn’t taking any chances of being tracked.

  The view is overwhelming, and my breath stops in my throat at the sight of a deep lake-filled gorge on my left. The water is like glass, so reflective with the barest tint of the rising sun dancing across its surface that it’s like looking at heaven and earth wrapped up in each other’s arms. I have never seen anything so incredibly beautiful in my life. I haven’t even realized that I’ve come to a stop on my bike until Shae backtracks toward me.

  “What are you doing?”

  It takes me a minute to find my voice, and even when I do, it’s raspy and hollow with longing. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Ever. Can you imagine having water like this back home?”

  “It’s called the Horsetooth Reservoir, and we used to,” Shae says softly. “Before the war.”

  “It’s so pure, so untouched… so beautiful.” My voice trails off and I’m lost once more in a silent reverence that’s so sweet, I am consumed by it. Watching the sun’s rays dance across the surface as they shimmer over the tops of the mountains it feels like I’m in another world, one so perfect that all I have to do is breathe and believe. There’s no war or hate or pain, just beauty. Soothed by the water’s glittering depths, somehow I feel restored.

  After a few minutes, I gun the bike’s engine and nod to Shae. We ride in silence until we reach the edges of Fort Collins. Time seemed to go a lot more quickly to get back there than when we had left, but in all fairness, we had been on foot in the underground tunnels. Things are starting to get a little busier. Ever careful, we stick to the lesser-known roads off the main street running through the town, but nothing seems different from the hustle and bustle of any other standard weekday morning. Still, I am diligent in assessing anything at all that looks out of place. We are very careful not to go anywhere near their old house, although by now it’s probably razed to the ground. No doubt, someone will be watching.

  After a while, Shae pulls off to the side and I follow suit. “What’s up?” I ask her. On both sides of us are quiet horse farms, and the only living things are two ravens circling overhead and a few grazing animals that look like horses off in the distance on the left. At the top of a small hill on the right side of the road, is a rambling farmhouse.

  “Did you notice anything coming into town?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “I didn’t see anything either,” she says. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t here, so we need to be extra cautious, just in case.” Shae looks almost back to normal. The fresh air has put some color back into her cheeks, but I know that it’s probably all still a façade. I can tell by the slight hitch of her left side and from the way she’s holding herself.

  “How’s your wound?” I ask.

  “I’ll live,” she says. “We should split up.”

  My eyes narrow immediately. “No way,” I snap. “You can’t make it on your own, and the truth is, I don’t trust you.”

  “Riv, we don’t have a choice. We have a better chance of getting to him separately.” Her voice wavers. “And the truth is, do you really think I could outrun anyone – even you – in this condition? And you know that,” she adds gently. “Go to Horrow. You’re still a student there. I’ll meet you afterward in the parking lot next to the gym.”

  A thought occurs to me, one that I hadn’t followed up on earlier in the conversation, about the Horrow connection. A hazy recollection of Caden a
sking about school in the basement of his house flits through my brain. Maybe it’d been more than just a comfort. Is it some kind of safe house?

  I frown at Shae. “We are running for our lives. Why is Caden in school, of all places?”

  “Like I said, it’s the safest place he can be right now. Gym. After school. OK?”

  I nod, my eyes burning into her face, daring her to betray me. But I know she’s right – there’s no way she could outrun me, not in her condition. “What then? What’s your plan? What’s to stop me from just taking Caden and leaving the minute I get there?”

  “Because you need my help, and he won’t go anywhere without me. We have allies, Riven. They will protect him.” She moves over to stand near me, where I’m still straddling my bike. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Riv. I didn’t know if I could trust you, but now” – Shae pauses, gesturing to her body – “it seems like I have no choice. I’ll tell you everything. 3 o’clock at the gym, I promise.” I don’t even notice as she slides her fingers along mine, hooking her little finger into the crook of mine. “Sister-swear,” she whispers, and all I can feel is the hot imprint of her skin against my own with the force of a hundred memories behind it.

  I may be a fool, but I trust her.

  REVELATIONS

  I stare down at my filthy shirt and the dried blue remnants of dead Vector under my fingernails. Shae’s already left, and I’m standing on the road facing the farmhouse that I saw before. I can’t see my face, but I can feel the dirt from the tunnels caking my skin. There’s no way I can go to Horrow looking like I’ve just been at the wrong end of a rodeo bullfight gone bad. What I wouldn’t give for a long hot shower!

  For a brief second, I toy with the idea of heading back to the motel where I’d stayed before, but it’s on the other side of town. If I waste any more time, I’ll be far later than I already am. They take tardiness very seriously in high schools, I’ve noticed, as if it’s some odd measure of teenage responsibility.

  Although I have a healthy respect for punctuality, being late has saved my life more than a few times. In Neospes, predictability is something that can get you killed. After a few more minutes of hemming and hawing, I decide to head up to the farmhouse to see if I can get cleaned up and swipe a fresh shirt. On the porch, I’m torn between breaking and entering, or just asking for help, which is another utterly foreign concept to me.

  I glance at the watch on my wrist – I can do it in five minutes. In and out. I try the handle of the door, and it opens inward with a loud creak. I sigh inwardly… looks like I’m going to have to play the damsel-in-distress role, and I almost laugh aloud. The thought of me being any kind of damsel is hysterical.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  No one answers. Not wasting any time, I check the doors along the front hallway, encountering a closet and a kitchen before I find a small bathroom. My reflection greets me like a still clip from a horror movie. It’s worse than I’ve even imagined. Blood, blue-gray ichor, and dark brown and black smudges streak my face like an artist’s palette. My hair is clumped into a tuft on one side of my head and plastered to my scalp on the other. My clothes are disgusting, and my pants are ripped all the way down one leg. I’m probably going to need some other clothes, but first things first.

  I peel off my leather jacket, outer shirt, and ninjata harness, remaining in a thin tank, and dunk my entire head under the faucet, washing the grime from my face and shoulders with water as hot as I can manage. A couple minutes later, with a twinge of guilt, I’m toweling myself dry with one of the two pristine white embroidered towels from the towel rack, when I hear a sound behind me. Without thinking I swing around in fighting stance before I can blink, to see the face of a small boy. His blue eyes are merely curious, so I relax slightly.

  “Hello,” he says. “Are you one of my sister’s friends?” I nod slowly and peer around his small frame to see if anyone else is there. The boy continues to chatter. “She already went to school. I’m sick today. Don’t tell that I’m out of bed, OK? I only wanted to get a drink. Mommy’s out checking on one of the horses. It’s having a baby!” He starts coughing then until his eyes start to water. I follow him to the kitchen, where he helps himself to a cup of water. “You’re really dirty,” he remarks. “And you smell a little.”

  “What’s your name?” I say in a soft voice, glancing nervously to the back porch. A seven year-old I can handle, not a parent… especially one who would quickly recognize me as not one of her daughter’s friends.

  “Josh.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “I was on my way to school, and I fell off my bike. Do you think you could help me? I don’t want to be late. I need to borrow a sweater from your sister. Could you show me her room, and we can get you back into bed?” My voice drops to a stage whisper. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell if you won’t tell. I don’t want anyone to know that I fell into horse poop. You promise?”

  Josh giggles and wrinkles his nose at my confession, but his face warms with a conspiratorial smile. “Promise.”

  After grabbing my pack and dirty clothes, we head up the stairs. Josh points to his sister’s room and heads into his own across the hall without a backward glance. Looks like I’ve lost his interest for the moment, so I move quickly to the room he’d pointed to.

  It is painted completely in shades of pink with pristine white furniture, and is the most delicate room I have ever seen. A canopied bed dominates most of the room. Pink and white floral curtains flutter at the window. The carpet is plush, and also pink.

  I’ll be better off taking clothes from Josh!

  The sound of a door closing from downstairs startles me into action and I open the owner’s closet door. It smells like vanilla and roses, and everything inside it is also pink and white or pastel-colored.

  I sigh, resisting the urge to gag, and methodically search through the racks… full of dresses, skirts, and sweaters, all color coordinated. Doesn’t this girl own any pants? More noises from downstairs have me moving faster, but starting to panic. After a second, I see a pair of dark-wash jeans on a hanger, and I pull them on only to find that they can’t button and are six inches too long. This girl is not only a princess, she’s a tall skinny princess.

  So that eliminates pants, I think to myself. Someone is moving around near the stairs, and I grab the only dress I can find that isn’t vile and fling it over my head. It’s a bottle-green color with a lighter green-and-yellow pattern of vines that comes to my knees, but at least it isn’t pink. There’s a floor-length mirror in the adjoining bathroom.

  The soft cotton feels good against my skin. The dress doesn’t look half bad, and I’m spared from looking too girly, especially as it’s paired with my worn black combat boots. I pat down my wet hair and grimace. I look good but still edgy… a motorcycle-riding badass in a dress. It’s not that I haven’t worn dresses before; they’re just impractical.

  “You look pretty,” Josh says standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “That’s one of Sadie’s favorites. It’s from Grandma in New York.”

  A moment of pure mirth bubbles against my lip. “Sadie? Your sister is Sadie?” Josh frowns and nods as if I’ve asked the dumbest question, and I bite my lips. Sadie? As in Caden’s girlfriend? I shake my head rolling my eyes skyward… someone has a sick sense of humor. I think briefly about changing, but a voice coming up the stairs stops me.

  “You better be in bed, young man,” a lilting voice warns.

  “Pinkie swear, I won’t tell if you won’t,” I whisper with a wink, kneeling and locking my finger with his before Josh bolts to his room. “See you around, Josh.”

  As Josh disappears across the hall, I swing my harness on, tuck in my blades, and pull on my jacket. I grab my backpack, stuffing my pants into it before stepping out of the window onto a narrow balcony. I’ll get rid of them later. I shimmy down the apple tree leaning against the side. A few minutes later, I’m back on the bike and heading toward Horrow.

  Breathless at my sneaky en
trance to the school through the locker rooms, I slide into my seat long after the last bell chimed down the hallway, but it must be my lucky day because Mrs Taylor is nowhere to be seen. A momentary panic grips me as I don’t see Caden in his usual place in Physics. Shae had said that he’d be here. Then I notice that about half the class is missing.

  “Where’s Caden?” I say.

  “You’re late. Nice dress, by the way,” Philip says, and I glare him into silence.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I snap.

  “They’re in lab. Group lab experiment today, remember?” I can only stare dumbly at him. “We go in for the second half of the class when they come back. It was the homework from last week?”

  “I was sick. What homework?” Philip doesn’t answer, but Charisma looks over at me shyly and slides over her notebook to my side of the table.

  “It’s about refraction and diffraction. Don’t worry; I’ve got you covered,” she whispers. In an even softer voice, she says, “I never got to thank you properly. Thank you, Riven. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

  “It’s OK,” I say, stunned into momentary silence by her gratitude. “They had it coming.”

  “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

  Before I can answer, Mrs Taylor walks into the room, her dark eyes piercing. They land on me immediately, and I feel myself shrinking down in my seat. The last thing I need is any kind of confrontation, to draw even more attention to myself. Her brows snap together as her eyes dart to the clock and back to me, but she doesn’t say anything, just walks over to her desk for a folder and leaves the classroom. I’m grateful for the reprieve, as small as it is, and stare down at my textbook even though I feel her eyes flutter like a moth on me once more at the door.

  “Did you hear about Caden?” Philip whispers, confirming that she’d left.

  “What about Caden?” I say, suddenly alert.