by Natalie Reid
“In the morning he would take a piece of charcoal and draw a picture of a bird on the side of the wall while I was getting ready.”
The window was shut and the winter air did not leak in so harshly. She slid her hand across the rough fabric of her pillow.
“I always made him scrub it off. I never let him keep it.”
The door to her room squeaked open and then clicked back in place. She clutched her hands to her chest and felt the fear coming back. The night was silent save for the gentle crackle of the fire, but she knew that she was not alone. It was still waiting in the shadows, hissing at the newly lighted fire and inching closer and closer to her bed.
“I wish I could see it one last time.”
Chapter 9
The Guardians of Aero City
When the morning sun broke over the trees, Jessie stopped and stared at it in confusion. She had not realized that so much time had passed. She had not stopped once during the night, had not slowed down. Her face was beyond numb with cold. It was as if it had found another level, one that caused her face to feel like a slab of stone. Her right eye, which was almost always taunting her with the shadows of the black, seemed to lose some of its power, as if the black had been frozen along with the rest of her face.
With the break of day, she grew even more desperate to find Tom. If he was out for a whole night, then he had to be in trouble. But, if he was with Task Force, then there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she wanted to break into their headquarters, she couldn’t. She could smell that building a mile away. The Bandit had soaked itself into the very mortar that held it up. She would be useless inside that building, driven to madness by the shadows.
Heading back to the cabin, she checked the snow to see if she could spot Tom’s footprints. All she could find were her own, and when she stole through the cabin, checking the beds and in all the rooms, Tom was nowhere inside. The warmth of the cabin brought the pain back to her face. Though it stung, she longed to stay inside, longed to feel normal again. But Tom was not here. She couldn’t sit still. He had not submitted to inaction when she was out on the streets. He had gone looking for her and had ended up saving her life.
Storming out of the house once more, she trudged through the snow, feeling desperation weighing down on her like a heavy drift. Searching through the city streets was useless. Infiltrating Task Force was out of the question. So what could she do? She was helpless. Tom could be minutes from death and she was miles away from being able to help him. Her breath started to pick up in panic, coming out in short puffs. She gripped onto the low-hanging branch of a pine tree, trying to draw strength from the sturdy plant. She needed to calm down. Hyperventilating wasn’t going to help anyone. She gripped her hands more tightly against the branch and lifted her head. Looking up through the trees, she saw the rugged mountain peaks in the distance.
The Guardians of Aero City.
She was closer now than ever to them. Just a few miles trek to the base of the nearest one. With one last look to the cabin through the trees, she started forward towards those monstrous rock giants that she used to believe held the secrets to the most unanswerable questions of her childhood.
Much as she had conjectured as a child, the climb up the mountain was not easy. The rock was as cold as ice, and in order to maintain a good grip, she had to keep her gloves off, leaving her fingers exposed to the elements. As with most things in life, doing something was a lot different than imagining yourself doing it. In her mind, each foothold on the rock would be just close enough for her to reach, and each gust of wind just weak enough for her to overcome. But in reality, the mountain was a much tougher opponent. The wind reigned non-stop, causing her to lose her grip several times and slide down before she could scramble to grab onto the rock. And there were places where there were no crevices to hold onto, and she had to jump to the nearest one, scraping up her hands in the process.
By the time Jessie made it to the top of the peak, she had been battered and knocked down so many times that she didn’t feel anything like the brave adventurer that she had dreamed herself to be as a child. However, before she lifted herself up over that final ledge, she still hoped to see something at the top, some object or sign or even that lush forest meadow with her father inside. Something that would have made the climb up worth it.
But when she pulled herself over the last hurdle and staggered to the top, all she found was more rock. There was not a spot of green anywhere. No blade of grass, no beam of light breaking through the clouds. Even the wind, which she had imagined would stop in silent reverie as she reached the top, only grew stronger. It was an angered howl in her ears, and it blew so fiercely that she had trouble standing upright.
Taking this all in, she became angry at the little girl that had once fantasized about this moment. She called her foolish and naïve for believing there was some sort of answer just waiting to magically appear at the top. Tom was not going to appear out of a veil of clouds. The codes to the Bank of Social Numbers weren’t going to rain down from the sky. Her father and mother weren’t going to swoop in out of nowhere and carry her away to someplace where they could be a family again.
She curled her raw hands and balled them up in her hair. She screamed out, but it was lost in the piercing wind. Her own voice had been taken away from her, and she felt herself being overcome by the wind so that all she felt was its sharp pull against her skin, and all she heard was its constant wail in her head.
She didn’t know why, time and time again, she allowed herself to be taken in by the irrational belief that there was something out there, watching her and wishing her success. Why did she feel its eyes weighing down on her as heavy as a strong hand on her shoulder? There was nothing, no one up here! This feeling, the Aero Complex, she wished it would just leave her already. The note her mother left her about it…she would have rather just had her mother! She didn’t care about discovering the secret to the Aero Complex! What good would that accomplish? It wouldn’t make her family whole again.
“You’re not there, are you?” she screamed out. She couldn’t hear the words even as they left her mouth. “You’re not even real!”
A sudden just of wind curved around the mountain peak, knocking Jessie to the ground. Her skin peppered with scrapes as she hit the rock and snow, but she scrambled to her feet, feeling as if she was in the heat of battle.
“You can’t treat me like this! If you want me dead, why don’t you just do it already?!”
Another wind blew. She stumbled to her knees, her bones aching at the impact. Again she rose to her feet in defiance.
“Please, just leave me alone! I don’t want to feel you anymore!”
A howl screamed up the mountain. It was too much for her. Her body rolled as it hit the rocks, and she scrambled to grab onto something before she fell off the edge. Luckily the wind stopped before she came too close to the cliff. When she finally gained her bearings, she drew her arms underneath her, trying to get up once more. She rose an inch before slumping back to the ground in defeat. Flakes of snow blew in her face and caused her eyes to sting. She tilted her face to the sky above.
“Why did you have to take Tom?” she whispered weakly, somehow hearing her voice now when it had been so thoroughly masked in wind before. “Why have you left me with no one?”
She didn’t know how long she sat there, shivering and letting the mountain take her prisoner. She didn’t know how much longer she would have stayed if a flash of motion hadn’t caught her eye. Slowly rising to her feet, she saw that a bird had wandered up to the rocks near the cliff’s edge. It poked its beak into the snow, pecking at something she could not see. Jessie took a step closer to it. Its red chest stood out strong against the white snow and dull granite. For a moment she wondered if the finch was real, if it wasn’t just the shadows playing tricks on her mind, taunting her with memories of Ben. She took another step closer, and the bird flew away.
She went over to where it had been, and found its fo
otprints in the snow, along with the little holes that its beak had carved out. She stuck her finger inside one of these holes, reassuring herself that they were real. She hadn’t imagined the bird at all.
A speck of red flew by the corner of her eye. She turned and saw that the finch was flying down towards the trees. Her eyes followed it, feeling somehow comforted by it, as though it was a reminder that she was not as alone as she thought. It dipped down to the tree line, and Jessie would have followed it all the way to the horizon, if something else hadn’t caught her attention.
Though she was far above everything on that mountain peak, she could see a dot of back moving through the snow, setting a direct course for the training camp. She couldn’t be sure who it was, but something in her stirred her to action. Something stronger and more knowing told her that this wasn’t just one of the others coming back from a trip to gather more firewood…this was Tom.
Jessie could barely feel her fingers as she scrambled down the mountain. They didn’t want to close properly around rocks to give her a safe grip. It was like working with a pair of hands that were not her own. Her throat was burning with thirst, but she did not want to stop and try to melt some snow to drink.
When she made it to the base of the mountain, her hands were so scraped up it looked as if she might as well have rolled down the whole way. She knew they would probably hurt like fire once they thawed, but for now she was grateful for the numbness that killed the pain.
Jessie would have run the whole way back to the cabin, but when she was less than a mile away, she stopped suddenly in her tracks. There was a bear blocking her path through the trees. It looked just like the one she had seen before with Ritter. Something was definitely wrong with it. If it stayed awake much longer in winter, it probably wouldn’t make it to spring.
Taking a step towards it, she expected it to move away like before, scared off by the Bandit inside of her, yet it did not lumber off. Instead it rose on its back haunches, as if spurred into an attack. Jessie stopped, feeling the terror rise inside of her. This bear, for whatever reason, was no longer afraid of her. She did not feel as infected with Black as she had the first time. In fact, the shadows were far from her mind, and apart from this bear, she was consumed only by the want to get back home to Tom.
The bear gave out a low growl as it stared her down. Jessie was itching to move, desperate to reach the cabin, yet if she started to run, it would prompt the bear to chase after her. Even if she could outrun it, she did not want to lead it to the cabin. What if it ended up injuring someone else?
Slowly reaching towards the ground, she picked up a handful of snow and brought it to her mouth. The vague taste of copper filled her nose as the blood on her hand mixed with the powder. The bear snorted in aggravation, taking any small movement from her as a possible threat.
Jessie took in a deep gulp of air and slowly let it out. Before she even knew what she was doing, she found herself mouthing the words, “Please help me.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Guide me out of this.”
Suddenly there was a loud blast like a gunshot. It sliced through the air like burning energy and caused her to jump in fear. Opening her eyes, she saw the bear lumbering away, quickly retreating. But who had fired the shot?
“Rack. That’s the first time I’ve missed anything.”
Jessie turned towards the voice. A few yards away, Ritter stood in the trees, holding a shot gun. A million questions ran through her mind. How had he found her? What was he doing with a gun? Why did he just save her? Yet she was too stunned to say anything.
“Not a word of this to anyone,” he said, though she wasn’t sure if he was referring to his missed shot, or the fact that he had saved her from the bear. “Though you might want to inform Carver that his shot gun doesn’t shoot straight.”
As the swell of fear subsided, she began to feel heat. And with the heat came the first onset of pain. Her hands were burning, screaming at her for their mistreatment. Jessie winced and gripped her wrist to keep it from shaking.
“Hey, Chance!” Ritter waved his gun to get her attention. “You gonna stand there all day? Your boy’s back.”
A warm feeling of relief overtook her, causing her to mentally voice the phrase “Thank you.” Though to whom she was speaking to, she did not know. Forgetting the pain in her hands, she started to sprint forward, the fire to see Tom renewed once again. She ran several paces past Ritter, but something in her caused her to slow down and go back to him.
She paused a moment in front of him, and he looked to her in curiosity.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a nod before she took off once more.
At the door to the cabin, she could hear the commotion of relief inside. Tom was safe once more. The others were showering him with questions, forcing him to eat, urging him to get closer to the fire. For a moment, Jessie rested her head against the wood, almost afraid to enter, yet also savoring in the same relief that those inside enjoyed. Then, with a breath of courage, she turned the handle and opened the door.
The wave of warmth that hit her should have hurt. It should have reminded her of every ache and pain, every scrape and bruise…reminded her that she was human and vulnerable to breaking. Yet what she felt upon opening that door and seeing with her own eyes the man that waited inside…what it made her feel…there was no room for the selfish thought of pain or the ordinary fear of mortality.
All speech stopped as, one by one, they turned towards the open door. Tom stood in the middle, his figure glowing by the near flicker of flames. He said nothing as he stared at her, openly, unwavering, like he had just after they had danced across his lab with his glasses on her face. Then, as if the thought of his glasses had spurred them into existence, Jessie realized that Tom was wearing them now. Those wide, black rims, the clear lenses that guarded those beautiful sea-blue eyes. She hadn’t seen Tom wear his glasses since they had become fugitives. But now, seeing them on his face again, she felt like she was back in BLES, back when the world made just a little more sense and she had the time to feel the flutterings of a girl falling in love.
From where Griffin stood, he put his hand on Nel and whispered to the others that they should give them some privacy. Jessie’s eyes didn’t leave Tom’s as the others slowly filed out of the living room and down the hall. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken a word. Neither of them had.
When it was just the two of them, she took several, careful steps towards him. Tom’s lips parted, urging him to speak.
“Jessie, I can see them.”
She continued forward till she was just a step away from him, the warmth of the fire enveloping her left half so that she felt as if a line of hot and cold was dividing her in two.
“The Bandit. The shadows,” he continued. His eyes swept over the room. “I know what haunts you now.”
She reached her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “Where did you go?” she whispered, the pain of his separation riddling her voice.
“Jessie, your hand.” He gently plucked it from his shoulder and stared at the scrapes and torn flesh.
She took a small step closer and raised her other hand, this time placing it on the side of his cheek. Tom shuddered and looked from her knuckles to her face.
“I went back to the house on Aileron to retrieve my glasses,” he explained. “I thought there might be a way I could use Task Force’s smoker to see the Bandit without getting infected. To install it inside my glasses. But, in order to do that, I had to steal one off an agent. I managed to nick one, but the guy spotted me. I had to spend the night hiding out in the crawl space of an east-end apartment.”
Jessie’s hand moved up his face to lightly touch the rim of his glasses. “Why do you want to see them?”
“I needed…” His gaze fell, as if ashamed. “I needed to know what you were going through. I thought if I could share this with you, you might…” He met her gaze once more, his eyelids drooping and his breath heavy. “…you might let me get…closer.”
“I’m sorry.” Her other hand lifted so that she was holding his glasses on either side. “I was afraid.” She slid the glasses from his eyes and folded them in her hands. “I never wanted you to suffer my pain.”
She placed the glasses on the mantle of the fire place, letting her hand linger on the ledge for a moment longer. Tom reached out and rested his hand on top of hers, his fingers weaving in between the spaces she provided. Jessie suppressed a shudder as the warmth of his hand sparked a fire inside her. She closed her eyes. Soft fingertips slid up her jaw, thawing out her skin. She was not aware that flesh could feel so cold one moment, and so enflamed the next.
“I was so worried when you didn’t come home,” she admitted, not brave enough to open her eyes. “I thought I had lost myself.”
His knuckles brushed underneath her chin, silently asking her to look up at him. She couldn’t refuse. Her vision filled with clear blue, her heart a quivering leaf, clinging onto the last thread of branch before it was swept up by frightening, weightless freedom.
“I’m here now,” he spoke. His gaze wandered from her eyes to her lips. His head dipped down closer.
Giving into surrender, Jessie closed her eyes. Tom’s hand trailed up her jaw and his fingertips slid through her hair, tilting her face up to his. Warmth washed over her lips, the slow lap of air, until she felt the gentle press of a loving kiss.
The quaking leaf inside her stilled as he eased his lips over hers, capturing her in a frozen moment like a figurine in a snow-globe. His fingers brushed through her hair, and his hand pressed at her waist. Where his first kiss had been brief and unsure, this was confident and lasting. The strength which Jessie had only glimpsed at before now came thundering out with the slow release of long-suffered restraint.
When he pulled away, he left just enough space between their lips to whisper out, “There are so many things I want to tell you.”
