“You might need the extra wheels,” Adam approaches us, as Reed hands my father the keys. “There’s plenty of space for you,” he adds to my father, pointing at the lorry. “My people will get them home,” he promises me. “As soon as the convoy has passed, they have instructions to get your people back home and wait there for me, if that’s all right with you?”
“Absolutely, we have plenty of room and fresh food and water.”
“Done. Now we really should get going.”
“Take them, Bex,” my dad presses the keys into my hand. “We’ll be fine. We’ll meet you in Vegas.”
“Okay,” I concede, “just look after yourself.”
“You too.”
He grabs a startled Chase by the shirt collar and drags him towards the waiting lorry, Chase’s eyes round with fright. Gabe and Veronica jump in behind them and the lorry roars up the street after the other vehicles.
“We’re following them?” Reed asks as Adam gets back into the waiting truck and I nod briskly, tossing his keys back to him. He turns on his heel and leaps into the driver’s seat of the Jeep, gunning the engine. Morgan and Tim hop in with him, and David and Jethro head for the Discovery, leaving the driver’s seat empty. I feel as though everything is spinning out of control, but there is no time to feel sorry for myself. I vault into the vacant seat, yank the steering wheel hard right and hit the gas, spinning for a second in the sand until the tyres find purchase and then we are careening after the truck, the Jeep right behind us.
Chapter 19
As we round a long curve in the road we can see around the line of mountains behind us and Jethro sticks his head out of the window to look back.
“Holy shit!” His outburst startles me and I swivel my head around to see the cause of his alarm. From this vantage point, we can see the pursuing convoy in the distance, and the sheer size of it makes my skin go cold.
“Morgan shouldn’t be here,” I curse, as we head west.
“She’s a member of the Legion, Rebecca, where else should she be?” David points out from the back seat, and I meet his eye in the rear-view mirror. There is no point in arguing; he’s right. I need to stop worrying about Morgan and give her more credit. She can handle herself better than a lot of the men in my army, if I am honest with myself. She takes her training very seriously and after seeing the sheer size of the force pursuing us, we will need all the help we can get.
Over an hour later we heave a sigh of relief as the NUSA convoy passes the entrance to Durango, choosing to follow us instead of searching the town. They have taken the bait. The sun is setting on the horizon, the fiery orange light shining on my face making it difficult to keep track of the truck. We should be able to outrun the soldiers easily enough, they are too far behind to follow us with line of sight, and the time they will spend tracking our direction will give us plenty of time to shake them off our tail. Even so, the thought of an army that size being in the Rebeldom makes me sick to my stomach. NUSA has always maintained its presence in the States, opting not to venture out into the barren lands, focusing rather on protecting its fortress. I’m not sure what has changed, but they are getting far too close to Nevada for my liking.
“I’m so sick of being in the car,” David grumbles, and I do not have the energy to disagree. It’s over 900 miles to California, a full day’s travel, but as tedious as the journey is, I am excited about the trip. I have never been to the West Coast, which was obliterated in the war when a large number of bombs landed in some of America’s most populated cities, Los Angeles and San Francisco among them.
We stop after nightfall in a small town near Flagstaff, Arizona. We have not made good time. Travelling through the mountains is slow going, but Adam seems happy with our progress, as he instructs his men and sets about preparing for our brief sojourn.
“We eat and sleep. Then we move on,” he explains.
“We may as well sleep in the car,” I say. Morgan, David and Tim get back into their seats, but Jethro gets out of the Discovery, his rucksack over his shoulder.
“I’ll find somewhere to rest, I’ll see you in the morning,” he announces, setting off into town in the darkness. It suddenly occurs to me that he didn’t even get to say goodbye to Veronica, and I can only hope that we will soon be home and reunited with the others.
I get back into the driver’s seat, inclining it as far back as possible. David is moving round on the back seat, trying to get comfortable. I am looking at the Jeep, parked only a short distance away. It is shrouded in darkness but I can see that the driver’s door is open; Reed must have gone for a walk. I have just closed my eyes when the rear door is yanked open so forcefully that the hinges creak ominously and the whole car rocks back and forth.
“Out!” Reed’s furious voice rings out in the night and before I can even guess what is going on, he grabs David by the collar of his shirt and pulls him out of the car, pushing him in the direction of the Jeep. Reed stalks after him, opening the rear door and speaking to its occupants. A moment later, the door behind me slams as Morgan gets into the Discovery, and I see David climbing into the Jeep, looking disgruntled but accepting. Reed stalks off into the night and I follow his progress as long as I can, until he disappears into the shadows.
“Good night, Morgan,” I murmur, and to my surprise she replies with a curt “Good night.”
I lie awake for a long time, painfully aware that Aidan is somewhere nearby, and that Reed is barely speaking to me. I know that he’s hurt and I do not blame him, but I don’t know what to say. And the fact that Aidan is alive . . . it is so surreal, so completely and utterly miraculous that I cannot begin to comprehend what it means. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t remember, but he might, in time. And what if he does, my subconscious whispers. What if he does remember? What about Reed? He is brave and kind and I love him. He would die to protect me. I could no sooner hurt him than myself.
Around and around the thoughts swirl in my mind. So many questions, all without answers. And lingering on the fringe of my turmoil is the guilt. Guilt over Eric. What has come to light has completely changed the dynamics of what I did. Maybe, just maybe, Eric didn’t deserve to die. I can see why Adam hesitated, why he changed his mind and decided not to let me know about Aidan. He was trying to spare me the remorse that I am already beginning to feel. No! I want to scream, Eric may not have killed Aidan, but he kidnapped him and forced him to undergo a procedure that could have resulted in his death. He risked his life, of that there is no doubt, even if it was ultimately to protect him. And he still took him from me. Aidan has forgotten me, forgotten Alex and our life together. He is still gone, even though he is living and breathing. Trying desperately to hang on to the anger, to keep my hatred of Eric alive, I finally slip into a fitful sleep.
We gather for breakfast the following morning in a clearing in the nearby woods. Flagstaff is surrounded by different ecosystems, ranging from barren tundra to green alpine forest. Two of Adam’s men, Little Chef and Archer, provide our breakfast and as we gather around the fire on which the hares they have caught are roasting, I survey the motley group that we are travelling with. There are nine Ordinary travelling to California, including Loader and Little Chef, who we have already met. Aidan sits on Adam’s right and Hope sits on his left, keeping to herself. I am surprised that Adam allows her to accompany him on his missions, but I cannot question his motives. Adam Vincent has survived all these years in the wilderness and, against all odds, he is sitting here with us. He has been leading people a lot longer than I have, and he inspires an amazing loyalty in those he commands. The other four men, Archer, Diesel, Crackerjack and Big Boy, are wary, not making much conversation with us but chatting amiably among themselves. Archer is the group’s hunter. A skilled bowman, he finds most of the food that Little Chef prepares. Diesel is in charge of fuel, as his name suggests, and the irony of Big Boy’s name makes me smile as I regard the diminutive young man at the en
d of the row. He is smaller even than Little Chef, his frame is slim and small, almost girlish. I suspect that he has some radiation disease which has stunted his growth, but other than that he appears to be in good health.
Crackerjack intrigues me the most. He is younger than I am and seems more refined, more civilised, than his comrades. He is also the person, other than Adam, with whom Aidan makes the most conversation. Other than Crackerjack and Hope, all of Adam’s men appear to be in their thirties and forties, although I wonder if they just look older as a result of the strain of their way of life.
I turn back to the fire and I catch Aidan staring at me intently from the opposite side of the group. Flushing, I look away, my eyes automatically finding Reed, who has been watching.
“I know you,” Aidan announces suddenly.
“You do?” I cannot keep the delight out of my voice.
“Yeah,” he cocks his head to one side, and then he stands abruptly, looking confused and angry. “You were there,” he points at me, “you were there in the library when I was shot.” I close my eyes, my heart plummeting.
“Yes, I was,” I answer, “and so was Reed.” I gesture at him. “We tried to save you.” Aidan frowns, narrowing his eyes, trying to recall, and looking from me to Reed. Eventually, he sits down again.
“Yes, I remember, you jumped in front of the bullet,” he says to Reed and Reed nods, staring at the fire. “Thank you,” Aidan blurts out, and Reed shrugs.
“No problem.” He gets up and walks away and this time I follow him.
“Not now, Tiny,” he calls over his shoulder, as he walks towards an old children’s park.
“Yes, now,” I insist, running after him and pulling him around to face me. The hollow look on his face breaks my heart and I let him go and walk beside him, not wanting to see the pain that I am unwillingly inflicting. We reach the park and he sits down on one of the old tyre swings, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet, his shoes scuffing the sand. The other swing has a broken chain, so I sit instead on the ground near his feet.
“I didn’t ever expect him to come back,” I begin.
“I know that,” he says, “of course I know that. But now that he has, what I really wanna know is where does that leave us?” The question is so sudden. I had thought we would take some time to get to this topic, that I would have more time to formulate an answer.
“I love you,” I answer honestly, tears pricking my eyelids. Reed remains silent, waiting. That is not an answer to his question and we both know it.
“I’m not saying that to let you down easy,” I smile, brushing at my cheeks. I get onto my knees and inch forward, until we are touching. Reed looks wary but he doesn’t move. “I love you,” I repeat, louder this time, and a ghost of a smile crosses his features, fuelling my courage. “Aidan coming back doesn’t change how I feel about you. Do you understand that?” He nods and I can’t help snapping at him, “Good.” I take his hands and gaze up into his hypnotic green eyes. “This isn’t going to be easy. You have to understand that. I loved Aidan my whole life, I will always love him. But I chose you. I don’t want this to end, but I can’t just switch it off. Stirring up these old feelings is playing havoc with my emotions; seeing him, it’s painful – there are so many memories.”
“And there’s Alex,” he points out and I echo his sentiment.
“Yes, there’s Alex.” I have not even considered what this means for my son. His father is alive and well, but he has no memory, he will not even know Alex, even though he was the one who raised him. Resolving to deal with that later, I come back to the topic at hand. “Please,” I beg, squeezing his hands, “please just bear with me. We can get through this together.”
He seems to consider my words for a moment and then he smiles, an infinitely sad expression on his rugged face.
“You know what scares me, Tiny?”
“Spiders?” I try to elicit a cheery response and fail dismally. He ignores my joke and carries on as if I haven’t even spoken.
“You say you’ve chosen me. But really, you have no choice. He doesn’t remember you,” he laughs harshly. “He doesn’t remember anything. But what if he had?” His voice turns caustic and I flinch. “What if when he saw you in town he had run straight for you, grabbed hold of you and never wanted to let you go?” There is a pause and then, “Where would we be then?”
I drop my eyes first, not because I do not want to answer him, but because I realise that anything I say from this point would be a lie. Because I don’t have the answer, I truly don’t know what would have happened. I love Reed, I don’t want to lose him, but I need to be fair. I need to find the answers all on my own.
“Don’t do this,” I whisper. “Please, don’t give up on us, on me. I need you.” He doesn’t answer and I get to my feet giving way to the tears that were threatening earlier. He won’t meet my eyes, staring instead at the dusty earth under his feet. As I turn to leave, he grabs my hand, holding me firmly.
“I don’t think I could let you go, even if I tried.” He stares up at me, his lips curling into a half-smile, the bags under his eyes testament to the fact that he got as little sleep last night as I did.
“But know this, Tiny. I hope that he doesn’t remember, I’m not gonna lie to you. And if he does, if it comes to it, I will fight to keep you. Even if I have to fight dirty.” I yank him to his feet, pulling him against me and stretching up to meet his mouth as it comes crashing down on mine.
Chapter 20
As we walk back into the clearing where the others are sitting, I force myself not to drop Reed’s hand. Aidan regards us, unconcerned, as we approach, but the rest of the group falls quiet.
“We should be on our way,” Adam breaks the silence and the Ordinary scatter, dousing the fire and packing up. The Legion remains seated, they do not take their orders from Vincent and I try to hide my smile.
“Be ready in thirty minutes,” I instruct, and they take their leave, Morgan more leisurely than the others.
“We kept you some food,” David hands me a small package wrapped in paper and I thank him.
“Rebecca, before we depart, I think we need to resolve some things,” Adam clears his throat and calls Aidan back to the smoking embers of the fire.
“I’ll meet you at the car,” Reed nods his approval and saunters off and I sit back down on the fallen log, steeling myself for whatever is coming. I cross my arms over my chest and wait. Once Aidan and Adam are seated, I do not delay the inevitable.
“There’s something you should know,” I announce. “Aidan lost his memory as a result of his procedure, not his subsequent injuries.”
“How can you be sure?” It’s Adam who asks.
“Because he remembers us, he remembers what happened in the library. Had his amnesia been a result of the wounds he sustained, he would have no recollection of anything prior to being shot.” I recall, all too clearly, Aidan’s face in that brief encounter. It has been burnt into my consciousness for months. He was badly beaten and tortured, and when we found him he was barely conscious, but when he saw us hope flared in his eyes, the possibility that he might be rescued. But other than that, now that I know what happened, there was nothing. No recognition, no emotion towards me other than relief and hope. Aidan didn’t know who I was in that room, I would bet my life on it. This had never occurred to me at the time, how could it have, but hindsight is a wonderful science. Only now can I see it for what it was.
Aidan opens his mouth to speak, but I am not finished and I cut across him. “There is something else you should know,” and this time I look directly at him, as painful as it is to do so. “My father is at the forefront of the Gifting procedures. He may be able to help you.”
“He could get my memories back?” Aidan looks more animated than I have seen him since his dramatic return to my life and I smile, glad that I am able to elicit this response from him.
&nb
sp; “I can’t promise anything, but if anyone can, it would be my dad.”
He sits down on a log, enthusiasm radiating off him. Meeting my eyes, he seems to be mulling over something and then he leans forward towards me.
“Adam says that you and I know each other, that we have a history?” I ignore his dubious tone and I answer truthfully.
“Yes, we do.”
“So, how long have you known me?”
“Since the day I was born.” The answer is obviously not what he expected and he turns to Adam, a questioning look on his face.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” Adam stands, brushing the dirt off his hands. “Everything you hear from Rebecca is the truth, Aidan. There is no need to doubt her.”
We watch in silence as he walks away and then it is just the two of us. I never thought I would see the day that I would feel uncomfortable with Aidan. He knows me more intimately than anyone else; he was my lover and my best friend. He was there for my own birth and the birth of our son, and every moment in between. I have never been shy or awkward around him, being with Aidan was as easy as breathing, until now. Now, he is looking at me as if I am a stranger, his warm brown eyes distant and suspicious.
“What would you like to know?” I ask politely, trying to adopt a casual attitude.
“Who are you?” I know he doesn’t mean my name.
“We grew up together in Ann Arbor, Michigan, within the boundaries of what is now the New United States of America. My mother and your father, Jonathan, raised us.”
“My mother?” he asks.
“She was murdered less than a year after the war in the chaos and the pillaging that followed. I’m sorry,” I say, feeling absurd. Aidan and I have discussed his mother a thousand times, he had never really known her and we were long past the point of pity.
The Legion Page 16
