by Belle Malory
For the first time in days, Kennedy felt a smile spread over her face. Everything was going to be fine. She lay sprawled across her bed, still grinning and thinking about the meeting they’d had earlier that day. The attorney told them he had a one hundred percent winning streak, and that he’d give this case everything he had. Things seemed to be looking up.
Kennedy got up and ventured downstairs. Ashley promised to cook a celebratory dinner. That meant not eating a meal that came from a box.
It was getting late. Tantalizing aromas should have been coming from the kitchen, but there were none. And it was quiet. Bizarrely quiet.
Kennedy frowned.
“Mom,” she called. “Are you in here?”
She stopped short when she saw her mother at the dining room table. Ashley’s head rested atop her computer, sound asleep.
Looked like there wouldn’t be a celebratory dinner after all. Ah well. Should’ve seen that one coming. When her mom wasn’t working, she was all over town searching for a lawyer. Exhaustion must have finally taken its toll.
Kennedy pried the laptop from under her mother’s head and examined it. The mailbox was pulled up, several past due bills showing on the screen. She scanned the page.
Ashley was almost three months late on the mortgage. Strange. Her mom hadn’t mentioned getting so behind on the payments. Soon she’d be in foreclosure.
Her mom stirred and Kennedy held her breath. She didn’t want to wake her. After Ashley stilled, she checked the next tab. A bank account was pulled up, showing only five globals as the available balance.
That couldn’t be right. Her mom didn’t get paid again until Friday.
Kennedy stared at the account, not quite believing what she saw. All her mother had to her name was five measly globs? Sheesh, she knew they were broke, but she didn’t know they were that broke.
Kennedy set the computer down. Ashley wasn’t making it.
All that time Ashley had been working so hard, and she still wasn’t making it.
Kennedy felt like she’d been doused with a bucket of ice water. Her head spun; she leaned against the refrigerator door and closed her eyes.
The last few days played out in her mind on fast-forward. Robert Mason’s face, his short, pointed white beard, and him telling her she was the twelfth keeper. One million gold globs annually, he’d said. Tax free.
One million gold globs was more money than she’d ever seen before, more money than her mom had ever seen before. She ought to insist to be their keeper, for crying out loud, instead of protesting against it.
Kennedy felt herself sliding and sinking. She sat down on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, crumpling.
Family had always been a priority to Ashley. No matter what, her children came first. Within Kennedy’s reach was the power to change things, make them better.
It was the least she could do. After everything her mom had been through, hiding her depression after their dad died, acting as two parents, struggling to give them beautiful birthdays…
Her gaze wandered over the cabinets, resting on the junk drawer. The business card Robert Mason had given her was somewhere inside. Kennedy had shoved it in there, not caring to ever see it again. She stood and dug through its contents, looking for the thing. She found it crinkled into a little ball underneath a deck of cards.
Here goes nothing. She held it up to her brace and scanned it. A moment later she was calling Mason.
He answered on the first ring.
Kennedy didn’t speak, afraid to hear the words she needed to say. One quick glance at her mom lying on her computer inspired all the courage she needed. “I’ll go with you to Olympus.”
What sounded like a sigh of relief came from Mason’s end of the line. “That’s great to hear, Miss Mitchell. I’ll pick you up on Friday. Around noon?”
“That’s fine,” she agreed. “But listen up, buddy. I want to be paid in advance.”
Holy. Crap.
Did she really just say that?
Kennedy held her breath. Apparently she was all but bursting with audacity today. Waiting for his reply was so agonizing she had to close her eyes.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Her eyes shot open wide; her hands trembled as she turned off her brace. She looked at Ashley, still fast asleep.
No more worries. Bills would never be a worry for her family again. Her mom wouldn’t have to work two jobs. Seriously, she didn’t have to work at all if she didn’t want to. Reagan could go to college. Lincoln would have a fantastic childhood. Any toy he wanted would be his.
She should feel…a release. Happiness for her family. Relief that they wouldn’t have to struggle. She waited for the tingly rush of pleasure, yet it didn’t come. Well, maybe there was a small part of her that felt that way.
But mostly she was scared out of her mind.
Twelve
Leaving day.
A black SUV with tinted windows was parked across the street, big enough to be a tank and gleaming in the sunlight. The SUV was surrounded by news trucks, cameramen and dozens—maybe hundreds—of onlookers. People were everywhere. They waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary twelfth keeper.
Professor Robert Mason waited for Kennedy inside the SUV. Soon she would have to cross the street and say goodbye to the only life she had ever known. She wasn’t ready.
The thought almost made her laugh.
When would she ever be ready for something like this? Being ready wasn’t going to happen. Not now, and not ever.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Ashley had been staring out the window for a while now, watching quietly as the crowd grew larger and larger throughout the day. She turned and looked at Kennedy, arms crossed over her chest.
She resented not having any control over the situation. Ashley had become so used to taking care of everyone, handling every crisis, and the feeling of helplessness wasn’t sitting well.
They argued for hours after Ashley found out.
That was followed by hours of uncomfortable silence. It filled their house as if they were stuck in the eye of a hurricane, waiting for the storm to begin again. Even Lincoln kept his distance and stayed close to Reagan over the last few days.
Kennedy couldn’t handle much more. She had never fought with her mom this way. In the back of her mind, she always thought she was one of those lucky teenagers, the kind that got along with their parents.
All this fighting and arguing was really starting to suck.
“You have a choice, you know.” Emotion dripped from those words. Her mom was exhausted from all of this. She looked it too. Her face had never looked so gaunt; her eyes had never appeared so hollow. And still, Ashley kept trying. Kept pushing. Hoping to change her mind. “I would fight for your choices. You know that, right?”
Kennedy nodded, trying not to cry. She knew her mom would keep fighting. Until the bitter end probably. Until she didn’t have a breath left in her body.
At least Ashley wasn’t gearing herself for another battle. Today Ashley’s eyes glistened with tears.
Kennedy hugged her mom. They both needed it. Over her shoulder, she said, “Someone needs to fight for everyone’s choices. That’s what keepers are for, right?”
“But you don’t have to. Not if you don’t want to.” Ashley’s arms squeezed tighter. “You’re just a kid. My kid.”
Kennedy felt her lower lip quiver. Good job, Mom. Way to make me not want to throw myself to the ground sobbing. “The sooner I go, the sooner DOE will find out I’m not really the twelfth.” She swallowed, trying to pull it together. “Then they can get busy looking for the real one. We’ll be unbelievably rich by the time that happens, and they’ll have moved on. Seriously, it’s a win-win.”
Ashley didn’t look as certain. “What if you are the twelfth?”
Kennedy flinched. No way that question just came out of her mom’s mouth. She was surprised, to say the least, that Ashley even thought it was poss
ible.
She shrugged, lost for an answer. “I don’t know.”
Ashley wasn’t pacified.
There wasn’t anything Kennedy could do to change that. “I’m going, Mom.” It was the firmest tone she could muster.
Ashley didn’t argue. Wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, she looked out the window again. It seemed she was giving up. “What am I going to do without you around here?”
“Bicker more with Reagan? Trip over more of Linc’s toys?”
Despite her mood, a smile tugged at Ashley’s lips. It didn’t last long though. “It seems like only yesterday I lost your Dad. I knew Reagan would leave soon. Planned for it. But you?” She shook her head, answering her own question. “I thought I had plenty of time. Loads of time.”
Hearing Ashley say those things just about broke Kennedy’s heart in two. Ashley pretended so hard to be fine after their father died. And on the outside, she looked that way, but Kennedy saw past it. She saw past it every time someone mentioned his name and Ashley stiffened. She saw past it every time Ashley struggled to breathe but wasn’t winded.
“Mom, it won’t be like that.” Kennedy’s voice was barely audible. “I’m right here, alive and well. Sure, I’ll be far away, but it won’t be forever. And until I’m back, I’ll keep in touch. I’ll call and write. Hopefully, they’ll let me visit too.”
“I know all that,” she said, nodding. “I do. This is just me knowing how much I’m gonna miss you. How much we’re all gonna miss you.” Ashley draped an arm around her, squeezing Kennedy again. So tight she could barely breathe this time.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Kennedy hugged and kissed her brother and sister several times. Saying goodbye to Lincoln was especially hard, knowing he had no idea she wouldn’t be back. As far as he knew, she’d be back for dinner to tuck him into bed later. It killed her to know she wouldn’t be.
Once they ran out of time, Ashley stepped out onto the front porch with Kennedy, and tried her best to shield her from the massive crowd.
People were…everywhere.
Blinding torrents of flashing lights enveloped Kennedy as they called her name and held microphones up to her face. Their voices were a deafening onslaught of questions she couldn’t make out. She blinked and took a step backwards, wishing she could run back inside. Wishing she could run upstairs and hide beneath her covers until everyone disappeared.
Somewhere in the distance, one voice stood out above the rest. Kennedy spotted Hunter as he pushed and shoved his way through the crowd.
Seeing his face was like seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds.
“You weren’t planning to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”
“It’s not goodbye,” Kennedy insisted. “I don’t do goodbyes.”
Hunter climbed the porch steps, breathing heavily. “Was scared to death I wouldn’t get home in time.” He slung his book bag to the ground.
In one swift movement, he walked up to Kennedy, took her face between his hands, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was quick, lasting only a moment, but it left Kennedy dazed and breathless.
That was unexpected.
Hunter grinned, looking down at her and smoothing back her hair. “Don’t you dare forget about me, Kennedy Mitchell.”
“I…” She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to think either, for that matter.
The sound of her mom coughing was the only thing that snapped Kennedy back to reality. Ashley hid her entirely too amused look behind her hand.
The crowd became louder, shouting things like, What’s his name? And more embarrassing things like, Is he your boyfriend?
A rush of heat found its way to Kennedy’s face; she could feel herself glowing from it. Closing her eyes for a second, she tried to block everything out, hoping it would all go away. It didn’t.
She barely remembered being led to the black SUV, guided inside, one last hug from her mom and Hunter, then the door shutting behind her.
Everything happened so fast.
The vehicle was soundproof, cutting her off from the chaos outside.
As the car began to move, Kennedy turned to stare out of the rear window, desperately trying to catch one last look of the life she was leaving behind.
Her house was there in the background. Hunter was nowhere to be found, probably hidden somewhere in the dense crowd. Her mom, though, was front and center, waving goodbye.
Kennedy choked back her tears. This was not goodbye. Definitely not goodbye. She would be back. Just as soon as everyone realized they made a mistake, she would be back.
Thirteen
The drive to Jacksonville International Airport was long and quiet. Mason tried chatting with Kennedy. He even made it a point to tell her he’d answer any questions she had. But Kennedy didn’t feel like asking questions. If she talked, her voice would break. If that happened, everyone in the car would know how much she wanted to cry.
And she really, really wanted to cry.
Phoenix Jorgensen sat in the front passenger seat. He didn’t speak either, but for a split second, Kennedy swore she caught him staring at her through the rearview window. She couldn’t be sure though. Dark sunglasses did a good job of hiding his eyes. If he had been staring, she supposed it was only a natural curiosity that provoked it. He assumed she was the twelfth and final keeper—one of his own kind. Reverse their situations, and she would’ve been staring too.
For the most part, Kennedy watched the last of Amelia Island blur past her. She would miss her island home, the balmy air, the quaint Victorian houses, the friendly locals. Her school. Her family. Hunter.
Kennedy swallowed. The whole not crying thing was getting harder and harder.
The drive felt like an eternity, but getting to Jackson International Airport only took about half an hour. Once they arrived, Kennedy was ushered in through a back entrance. She found out they would be flying on a government plane to D.C., where they would then take the next departing rocket to Olympus.
The thought of going up in a rocket was sort of scary. People did it everyday, and so it shouldn’t be a big deal. But she’d never done it before. Hopefully she wouldn’t freak out when the time came.
On the flight to D.C., Kennedy spotted two young Asian girls with Chinese passports hanging out of their bags. Her jaw dropped a little, and she couldn’t help but stare. She’d never met anyone from China before. Once, she watched a documentary that said only a few thousand native-born Chinese people were left in the world.
Kennedy wondered what life was like where the girls came from, whether they lived high up in the mountains or by the sea, both of which she’d heard were the only places that sustained life anymore within their country. Everywhere else was contaminated.
One of the girls turned, and Kennedy glimpsed her profile. She was pretty, about fourteen or fifteen years old with long, jet-black hair and smooth, unblemished skin. Professor Mason caught Kennedy staring. He leaned down to whisper, “The United Council pays for Chinese residents to live here. Once they get the situation under control, they promised to send the residents back to their home country and start over.”
Kennedy looked away, faking indifference. Fantastic of the professor to fill her in and all, but she didn’t much care what he or anyone else from DOE had to say to her.
One of the Chinese girls giggled, catching her attention again.
It was too hard to resist. “Why do they send them here?”
“Well,” he kept his voice low, “people are afraid the Chinese, the true native-born Chinese, could become extinct.”
She heard that said before. The plane’s engine rumbled for takeoff. Kennedy snapped her seatbelt together. She hated this part—the take off. The distraction was worth talking to the professor for a bit more. “So can they clean up China?”
“An impossible task, if you ask me,” Mason told her. “But Earth is very similar to the human body. It’s capable of healing itself. One day China will be restored.”
He paused to look over at the two young girls. “Probably not in either of their lifetimes though.”
The girls weren’t so different from her. In a way, they were in a very similar situation. Like her, they’d been taken from their home and would have to adapt to a new environment. At least Kennedy still had a home she could go back to, unlike the girls. In spite of everything, knowing her home was there waiting was a small comfort.
Amazingly, Kennedy managed to drift off to sleep. When she awoke, the plane was already landing in D.C.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Professor Mason said. “There’s something I should tell you.” He paused, smoothing out a wrinkle in his jacket that wasn’t there. “So ah, while we’re waiting for the next rocket launch, the department has issued a team of reporters to ask you a few questions. You know, for the media, so that the world can officially meet their final keeper.”
Kennedy sat up straighter now.
“It won’t be so bad,” he quickly assured her. “They just want you to give a short statement. You know, something like I’ll do my best to protect this planet, yaddah, yaddah. Perhaps answer a few questions about yourself.”
“Cancel it.”
Professor Mason flinched. “Kennedy,” he said in a softer tone. “The president will be there. A lot of effort and time has been spent in preparation—”
“Cancel it,” she repeated, grinding out the words. “I’m not ready. Not today.” Or ever.
Mason opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. He gently patted her arm. “Okay. We’ll get it canceled.” He shifted away from her, tightening his seatbelt.
Kennedy’s shoulders slumped back into her seat, feeling a weighty tension leave her body. That was a close one. She could just picture herself standing in front of all those people, looking like a deer in headlights, wondering what to say. It would’ve been beyond humiliating.
