The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

  “That’s right. It’s a fishy,” she cooed.

  Something on TV caught Reagan’s attention. “Volume, up.”

  Kennedy looked to see what was so interesting. It just looked like more coverage on the keepers. Pictures of the eleven known keepers scrolled across the screen as the anchor talked about each of them.

  “Ooh,” Hannah said at the young Asian girl’s picture. “That’s Fang. Everyone says she’s a real badass. She’s been studying karate since she was three and jiu-jitsu since she was seven.”

  The keeper’s strong, fierce features and lean body reminded Kennedy of a wild cheetah, ready to pounce the first person who rubbed her the wrong way. Yeah, Kennedy could believe she was a badass, all right.

  Reagan and Hannah continued prattling on about each of the keepers as Kennedy swept up cheerios from the floor. She had just begun to load the dishwasher when Ashley slipped an arm around her. “Hey,” she whispered. “How are you doing?”

  Ashley wasn’t the heart-to-heart type. She was too busy for the emotional stuff, and today especially, too wrapped up in making Reagan’s birthday as special as possible. It didn’t bother Kennedy, but it was unfamiliar—so unfamiliar it took a second for her to remember to respond.

  “Okay.” About as okay as one can be, knowing her family has a death wish.

  “I know today is going to be hard for you, Kenn.”

  No kidding, Mom. Was it something I said or Dad’s absence in the house that gave it away?

  Kennedy looked away from the sink and into her mother’s eyes, surprised to find something there she wasn’t expecting.

  It was bothering her, too.

  Argh, good grief. That big, doe-eyed look wouldn’t let anyone stay annoyed with her. Ashley looked just as lost and hopeless as she had back then, back when she’d first been told she no longer had a husband. Big swallowing teddy bear hugs were all Kennedy wanted to give her mom just then, not the piece of her mind she’d originally wanted to lay on her.

  Ashley took a deep breath, straightening. “Despite what happened, Lady Liberty was important to your father. That’s why Reagan loves it so much.”

  I’m not gonna say it. Not gonna to say it…Kennedy gritted her teeth. “I understand, Mom.”

  She could have kicked herself. Why was she acting so composed and understanding, when she was anything but?

  “Anyway, I just want to thank you for being so cool about this.”

  Cool about this? That was the last thing she was. Inside she was furious. She kept her mouth shut though. As badly as Kennedy wanted to scream and argue, and as badly as she wanted to stomp around the house and bang on things, she didn’t.

  Yeah, she was a little scared. She could admit that much. Okay, terrified was the more appropriate way of putting it.

  “No one says cool anymore, Mom.”

  She could get through this. For them.

  “Well, excuse me for getting behind the times.” She squeezed Kennedy’s shoulders before leaving the room with Lincoln to change him into his swimsuit.

  Reagan and Hannah were still sitting at the table, chatting about the news. Just as Kennedy bent over to deposit a glass bowl into the dishwasher, she heard the name Phoenix and froze. Her breath caught as a set of sharp, angular features filled the screen.

  She’d seen his face before, a curious fascination enveloping here very time he was on TV or in the tabloids. “By far the most gorgeous of the keepers,” Hannah breathed.

  Phoenix Jorgensen was exactly that—gorgeous. But in a lethal sort of way. Like lightening. People enjoyed admiring it from afar, but not too closely.

  “He was the first keeper found, and he’s been with DOE since he was five years old.” Hannah couldn’t help being a know-it-all. “Poor guy. Can you imagine being raised by the military in such a sterile, unfeeling environment? They say he was trained to be a weapon—practically a robot.”

  The broadcast zoomed in on Phoenix’s face. Beneath his unkempt blonde hair were eyes so dark they looked black. A cold, impenetrable black. Those eyes told the world to back off.

  The newscasters switched to the next keeper—a Caribbean islander named Alanna—before Kennedy remembered what she was doing. Shaking her head at herself, she finished loading the dishwasher.

  Honestly, the keeper news was starting to become annoying. Ever since humans figured out the planet came stocked with its very own protectors, no one could talk about anything else. “Sheesh, give it a rest already,” Kennedy mumbled. “Sliced bread is still pretty great, you know.”

  Four

  Wild horses had always been a mystery to Kennedy. They had managed for so long without people trying to tame them. Most of the feral horses in the nearby areas were kept on Cumberland Island, just north of Amelia. It was a rare thing to spot them here.

  Staying very still and quiet, Kennedy watched through her binoculars as they trotted along the beach, their black coats shimmering in the sunlight, their tails swishing back and forth. Of course, they were too far away to get spooked, but she kept still anyway, refusing to risk the chance that they might see her and decide to leave.

  They were playful too, dipping their heads into the small waves. They shook out their manes, splashing one another in the process, and then raced each other down the beach, as fast as spaceships. A frenzy of sand smoked around their hooves, then misted back down behind them gloriously.

  It enchanted Kennedy, seeing she shared her world with such beautiful creatures. She wondered if horses existed on other planets. Maybe there were planets with creatures even more lovely.

  No…she doubted such a thing could be possible. Nothing could be as beautiful.

  An ocean breeze swept Kennedy’s hair into her face. She pushed it back and caught sight of Hunter walking across the dune. She dropped the binoculars and waved him down.

  He jogged over in his favorite blue swim trunks to a picnic blanket Kennedy laid out. Hunter carried all sorts of curious objects in his hands. As he drew closer, she realized it was a sand castle kit.

  “You brought the old-fashioned kind.”

  “Thought we could build a fort.”

  Kennedy looked through the assortment of buckets and miniature shovels, inspecting each of them. “You’re an overgrown kid, Hunt. You know that, right?” She picked up a star-shaped cutout. “But this fort-building business sounds kinda fun.”

  “If you think that sounds fun, look what else I brought.” Hunter reached into the pocket of his trunks, pulling out a set of small smooth, gray stones.

  “No way!” Kennedy had wanted a set of skipping stones when she was a kid, back when she enjoyed playing in the water. “How far do they skip?”

  “About a thousand feet. Wanna try them out?”

  She looked at him like he was idiot. “Of course I do.”

  They headed out to the shore. The tide was low, drawing over their bare feet, the gentle hum of the waves filling the silence.

  Hunter threw the first stone. It skipped across the surface, creating small ripples that vanished against the unsteady blue surface almost as quickly as they were created. The stone headed off into the horizon until it was too far away to see anymore.

  “Don’t worry. It’ll come back.” He handed her a different stone, this one bigger than the other. “Here, try this one. Angle your throw a little. Sort of like you’re throwing a curveball.”

  She threw it and the stone skipped into a misty spiral, almost like a miniature version of the waterspouts that rose during thunderstorms.

  “Incredible.”

  A few moments later, the spout sank back into the ocean. Both stones came skipping back, just as Hunter had said they would.

  Later, as they began carving the first level of their fort, Hunter asked, “So how am I doing?”

  Kennedy looked the structure over, assessing it. “Looks good to me.”

  He shook his head. “No, I meant…how am I doing at taking your mind off of things?”

  Kennedy turned towards th
e ocean. In the distance, she could make out the form of Lady Liberty. She wasn’t hard to miss, painted a patriotic red, white, and blue. The boat didn’t technically belong to them anymore; Ashley was forced to sell it after Kennedy’s dad died. Its new owner was a good friend of the family’s and lent it to them whenever they felt like taking it out. Which thankfully, wasn’t very often.

  She turned back to Hunter. “I guess my mind is back on it now. So…not very good, Hunter. You’re not doing very good at all.”

  Kennedy let the tense moment last as long as she could before her mouth pulled into a teasing grin.

  Hunter punched her on the arm. “Thanks for making me feel like crap.”

  They worked on the fort’s bastions for a while, perfecting them into smooth, sandy walls with Hunter’s kit. It was nice, working on this with him, mindlessly allowing her hands to carve, shape and sculpt, without the headache of having to make idle chitchat in the process. The quiet was a relief. “Actually, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

  “On the fort or the distraction?”

  “Both.”

  He considered that for a moment, then smiled, satisfied. “Good.”

  ~ ~

  They were supposed to be back half an hour ago. Kennedy looked down at her brace. Almost 3:30 p.m.

  Argh, where were they?

  She searched the horizon through the binoculars, wondering what was taking so long. A large wave rolled in, hissing as it fed itself back into the sea, like a warning call.

  She stiffened, despising it, the ocean, and perhaps Mother Nature herself. She’d never really been secretive about that, but at the same time, no one really knew the extent of her hatred. Her family knew she feared the ocean, maybe even suspected she blamed it for her father’s death, but no one knew how heavy the resentment she carried truly was. No one knew that Kennedy constantly felt like she was going to fall over from its weight.

  She lowered the binoculars, closing her eyes.

  The rain drowned out everything, making it impossible to hear her dad’s voice. Like the volume of a radio’s static turned up to its max, his voice was a channel she simply couldn’t tune into. Too far away. Too far out of reach.

  She screamed with all her might, fighting her way back to the boat.

  Her muscles also screamed. Her body was tired, too exhausted to swim, but she had to keep trying. If she didn’t, the next big wave would swallow her up and suck her into its belly forever.

  Desperately, she threw her arms forward, forging ahead. The bed of water violently lifted and leveled with each stroke, jerking her back from any distance she might have covered.

  Useless…it felt so useless. She wasn’t gaining any distance. Only pushed farther away.

  Her screams sounded desperate now, choked and torn.

  Oh God.

  She was going to die.

  The waves were so big and heavy, like the Goliath to her David. They tossed her around like a rag doll. What was the point of fighting? She didn’t stand a chance. Her arms had grown limp and weak. She didn’t have the strength left to fight.

  This was it, her bitter end.

  She was going to die.

  Something grasped her wrists and she stopped screaming. Her father’s voice was in her ears, coming in loud and clear. “Hold onto me, Kennedy! Hold on with everything you’ve got!”

  The urge to cry out in relief overwhelmed her. She wrapped her arms around his waist. A rope was secured there, which her dad used to pull them both forward.

  Her head pressed against his back, she held on tightly, refusing to let the waves wrangle her away from him.

  She would’ve sobbed if she could. They were going to make it. Her dad would get them to the boat for sure. She just knew he would.

  Kennedy wiped the tears out of her eyelashes.

  She lived on an island surrounded by the sea, never letting her forget what it had done, what it had taken. Fate’s morbid joke.

  Off in the distance, she spotted the colors of Lady Liberty making its way to the docks. Knowing her family was on their way back to shore quieted the storm inside her mind. The one she tried so hard to forget.

  They were coming back.

  Everything was going to be okay.

  Five

  The evening had gone surprisingly well. Kennedy supposed she even had a little fun.

  Ashley grilled hot dogs, Lincoln dug for seashells in the sand, and everyone else played volleyball. Afterwards, they ate until their stomachs hurt and sang for Reagan as she blew out the candles on her cake.

  When the sun went down, everyone took turns playing with the gift Hannah bought Reagan, a sand-combing converter, which dyed the sand different glow-in-the-dark colors for short periods of time. Kennedy spelled out her name in shimmering silver. Hunter wrote his beneath hers in bright green.

  Everyone laughed. No one argued (sort of a miracle within the Mitchell family). Hunter didn’t even get annoyed by Reagan’s chatty gossipmonger friends.

  All in all, it had been a really good day. Kennedy was exhausted by the time they returned to the house, but in a good way.

  A bright red light flashed next to the refrigerator. “Mom, you have messages,” Reagan said, yawning tiredly.

  Kennedy headed upstairs and tucked Lincoln into his racecar bed. She smiled, looking down on him. He looked really cute in that innocent way children do while they’re sleeping. She kissed her brother on the forehead, then quietly turned off the light.

  Hearing Ashley drop an f-bomb caused Kennedy to pause in the stairwell.

  Uh oh.

  Ashley only cursed like that when she was extremely pissed off.

  “What’s wrong?” Kennedy asked, bravely rounding the corner.

  Ashley placed a hand on each hip, glaring.

  At her.

  Holy mother of God, she would have gone straight to bed had she realized she was the cause of Ashley’s anger.

  “You tell me right now, Kennedy Mae Mitchell—”

  Kennedy winced, hearing Ashley shout her full name.

  “—Did you get your vaccinations and blood work done like you were supposed to?”

  Wait…what? “Of course, I did,” she said. “You dropped me off, remember?”

  “I dropped you off. I didn’t see you go inside.”

  Kenned blinked, surprised by the implied accusation. “Ask Hunter, if you don’t believe me. I almost passed out from those stupid shots.”

  Ashley’s shoulders slackened. “Well what’s the problem then?”

  “No idea what you’re talking about, Mom.”

  “The Medi-Care center sent a message. They scheduled an appointment for tomorrow. I suppose it’s for a follow-up.”

  “Another one?”

  Ashley nodded. “Are you sure you did everything right?”

  Kennedy rolled her eyes, letting Ashley know exactly how she felt about that question.

  “Well, you must have done something wrong.”

  Okay, that was officially becoming annoying. “You can’t really make a mistake, Mom. You sit in a chair. A nurse stabs you with a needle. Then it’s over.”

  “Then why did they schedule a follow-up?”

  “I don’t know!” she yelled. “Do you think I actually want to go back there?”

  Ashley wagged a finger in Kennedy’s direction. “Watch your tone.”

  Kennedy let out an exasperated groan and walked away. Her mom was one hundred percent crazy.

  Mess up her vaccinations on purpose—ha! Just the idea of it was ludicrous. Like she’d really want to back to that place again after what happened last time.

  Reagan was in the kitchen sprinkling flakes of food over the goldfish bowl. “Look on the bright side,” she said, “you get to miss class. They scheduled it during your last period.”

  Didn’t sound like much of a bright side. Algebra was more appealing than needles, and she despised Algebra.

  “Oh yeah? And who’s going to give me a pass to miss work?” Ashley yelled
from the living room.

  Aha. So that was why her mom was so fired up. Another kid problem she had to explain to her boss. Kennedy suspected the hospital’s upper management was getting tired of hearing about kid problems. Now Ashley would have to explain this one in order to leave work early tomorrow.

  Kennedy sat down at the dining room table with a glass of water. She rested her chin on her hand and watched Lincoln’s fish swish around its bowl in search of food flakes. He’d named it Bobo, or something silly like that.

  Suddenly Bobo whipped around and looked at Kennedy.

  She sat up straight, her eyes focusing in on the fish.

  Okay, it couldn’t actually be staring at her.

  She touched the bowl with her index finger. The fish swam towards her finger. Kennedy moved her finger to the other side of the bowl. The fish followed it to the other side.

  Weird. Like, freakishly weird.

  She looked around the room, expecting someone else to be watching in awe too. No one was paying her any attention. “Reagan, do you see this?”

  Her sister yawned and stretched her arms out in front of her. “What is it?”

  “Lincoln’s fish. It’s following my finger.”

  “So?” Reagan shrugged. “Fish do that.”

  “But…it’s looking at me.”

  Her sister giggled. “Kenn, really? It’s just a fish. Go to bed. You’re probably overly tired.”

  Kennedy stared at the fish. It still watched her, as if it was waiting for something, wanting something.

  She shook her head, figuring Reagan was right. She must be tired. Either that or Ashley’s crazy genes had passed onto her.

  Six

  Spirals of hair floated around her head like unraveling crimson ribbons. The locks swayed back and forth, dancing. It was peaceful down here. Quiet and tranquil. The outside world seemed miles away. Lifetimes away.