Birthmarked

by Maria Violante

  I stood and walked over to him. Without thinking, I embraced him in a fierce hug, and after only a moment’s hesitation, he returned it just as warmly. “Thank you. For everything.” How had I ever doubted him?

  I followed him around to the back of the trailer, and he climbed in for our suits. He handed me mine first. I stepped in and pulled the bubble over my head. “Hey, what do you think about—?”

  I stopped talking when I caught sight of the stretched lines of his face, the way the skin seemed to hang heavy on the bones. “What is it?”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “What? I don’t. . ."

  “When Kenneth died. I mean, nobody could hold it against me, not really, but if I had just been there the way I should have. . ." He brought the cigarette to his mouth, his hand shaking. “When you get your chance, don’t look back. Promise me.”

  “Okay. I promise.”

  I didn’t know what I had promised.

  I knew from the moment I saw the team that something was wrong. There was Josh and Sven and three other men I didn’t know—and didn’t want to. And then, there was Joseph. Of all of the men that could have been selected to work with me, Joseph? My skin prickled in warning.

  I almost snickered. Looking at them, it was like the old dirty game we had all played in our youth, only doubled—kill two, marry two, fuck two. Wasn’t that how it went? Good thing I knew which two to kill. The laugh banged around in my chest, threatening to steal out and reveal my thoughts to everyone.

  Buckner shot me a look, and I knew what it meant. Pull it together.

  I stifled another giggle, but I didn’t know how I was going to keep from collapsing. Even the idea of facing a single glitch was enough to make me want to curl up in a ball in the cab. At the thought of adding my own escape on top of it, I wanted nothing more than to click my heels together and cry “there’s no place like home” and whisk back to a life where I never took up trucking, I never found out about Luke’s little indiscretions, and . . .

  Stop it. I felt a warmth rush through me, buoying me up until I floated into place behind Buckner, the bubble on my head cutting off the sounds around me. I had to admit the truth. As terrifying as it was, I didn’t want to go back to another life, even if was familiar and safe.

  And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t—and I had to accept that, if I was going to get out of here alive.

  The warmth within me cooled, but its memory was enough to keep pushing my feet, one in front of the other. It got harder when I had half-crossed the deserted section of the parking lot normally reserved for cars. It was there that the first gale of cold hit. Already, I could feel it sucking the life out of us, the weird edginess to the air that could only come from something as unnatural as a glitch.

  My suit kicked in, sensing the creature’s presence before I could catch a glimpse of it. My teeth chattered, and I shivered hard, but more than anything, I was glad that no cars had stopped to rest here—although maybe that wasn’t luck. Maybe they could feel the wrongness of this place.

  Our pace was slow, but little by little, the building grew around me, insidiously expanding to reveal the extent of its foreboding mass.

  For the first time, I wondered if the suit would kill me. How long could a person go in one of these without getting hypothermia? Fifteen minutes, maybe?

  Would it know I was on the brink of death? Or would it keep cooling, long after my heart had stopped beating in my chest?

  Through the window of the rest stop, I saw a shadow flicker. My gut wrenched hard and my heartbeat quickened, but aside for those sensations, the rest of me had been plunged into numbness. I couldn’t feel the cold or the texture of the suit.

  Almost time. Almost time for the glitches—for my escape—and then? What waited for me in this life?

  As if calling at me from the other side of an abyss, I felt a slight pressure on my hand. I glanced down, terrified of what I might see—but it was Buckner’s hand. He had slipped it into mine, as if to say, “Goodbye, kiddo.” My vision flooded with tears that I had to blink away.

  We progressed in slow motion across the rest of the lot, each man going to the station that Buckner assigned. Joseph was outside, in front of the door—a spot that could give me some trouble. I would have to be careful about that. Buckner pointed at Josh, and he scurried inside without another word.

  Apparently, whatever differences the men had, they weren’t important enough to risk certain death.

  And Sven? I caught the look that passed between him and Buckner, the glance of two soldiers returning to the scene of the battle, and without a single word, I knew what they were thinking, what they were feeling, and that I was a part of that, too. I said a silent word for Chris, and then I saw the flutter of Sven’s lips, and I knew he was doing the same.

  How could he not?

  And then he left us, the last man, and all that was remained was Buckner and me.

  I mouthed “thank you” to him. I wasn’t sure if he would see my lips through the bubble-helmet, but he nodded. That slight movement broke my heart all over again.

  He pulled the door back. The always-on lights of the rest stop spilled out, their garish tint casting odd shadows as it reached the lot outside. Buckner nodded at me, once, and started in, holding the door open behind him.

  I padded along after him, the coldness seeping through my flesh and into my bones. The rest stop was timeworn, the posters and maps that cloaked each wall faded. I knew if I pushed my way through the swinging doors that led to the restrooms, I would find a row of broken doors that didn’t latch and sagged on their hinges, and the thought brought back a pang of longing for the life I had left behind.

  We fell into our position, the final notes on a staff.

  Buckner’s voice crackled in my helmet. “Sven.”

  Sven turned, the bubble showing the rotation of his face like the light side of a moon coming around to catch the sun. There was a wild gleam in his eyes, and I suddenly had a new reason to shiver.

  His hands traveled to the front of his suit, and I heard the faintest of hisses.

  I saw and felt the shadows fly out of one of the bathrooms, a mass of three dark shapes that passed inches from us—close enough that I could have reached out and touched them—and then there was another hiss, Sven’s suit resealing as he dashed out of the way, and the glitches started their seeking dance.

  Buckner glanced up and back down, and I knew he was calculating the angles. “Josh.”

  There was the crinkling noise of a suit in motion. I looked over my shoulder, and there was Josh—close, too close—and then I heard the hiss.

  The glitches sprang in to life. They barreled toward Josh—except that now, I was in the way.

  “Cut it, Josh!” Buckner had seen them coming for me. “You’re out of position! Cut it!”

  But Josh didn’t move. I started to dive, my body twisting around—for even now, I couldn’t just die. I had to watch it happen.

  But the glitches had stopped, a mere foot from my head. The three of them floated, and turned—away from me—and then my heart sank as I saw what they were going after.

  Standing in that direction was Buckner, the silver of his suit pooled around his feet. “Run, Charlie!”

  The awful horror of the moment hit me full force, colder even than the embrace of the glitches.

  He was sacrificing himself.

  For me.

  For my escape.

  The glitches quivered, as if in anticipation, and then I saw it—a new shadow, a late emergence that wafted its way from God-knows-where.

  The drunk was right.

  Not three.

  Four.

  It streaked toward Buckner, and the other three suddenly broke their hesitation and flew forward. I felt Josh’s hands come for me from behind, but it was as if I was on another plane. I could not be caught.

  I ripped myself away from his grip and elbowed him as hard as I could in the stomach.

  Please, just let there
be enough time.

  Almost tripping over my own feet, I ripped off my suit, too. It fell to the floor—

  And then the glitches hit Buckner, and I watched as he suddenly sank, drained of whatever had animated him in the first place.

  A direct hit. I was too late.

  “No!” The scream ripped itself out of my throat as his head hit the ground. I saw the glitches circle, and waver, as if seeking.

  And then I ran. Not toward my truck, but toward the fucking creatures that killed my mentor and the only person who had truly given a shit as to whether I lived or died.

  My birthmark seared hot, hotter than I had ever felt. And then, the life force in me, the one they so wanted to take—welled up all at once in a giant burst. I became the epicenter of a series of waves I couldn’t understand or imagine. Heat roasted a hole through my shirt and light streamed out of my birthmark. The beam slammed into the glitches that hovered over Buckner, and I heard a scream—a sound that couldn’t have been real, a weird twisting of the air and light around me I could feel and taste as much as hear.

  There were footsteps, and the men who had stayed outside—Joseph and the others—they came bursting in—

  And then came the roar, the boom, the percussive force so great it knocked everything around me sideways. Sven, Joseph, and Josh were thrown down, Buckner’s body was thrown backward—and I stood tall in the middle, watching the whole world fly away from me.

  My light faded, and with it the pain and the heat, and I was Charlie again, and everything around me was dark and quiet.

  I saw Sven and Josh, their bodies sprawled across the tiled floor. Were they dead? I didn’t know.

  And the glitches? I didn’t see them either—and the heavy cold that had filled the room was gone too.

  I kneeled by Buckner’s body and ran my hand down his cheek, feeling the soft old skin that was studded with stubble. “Please, wake up.”

  He didn’t. I thought of trying to get medical help, radioing for someone—anything—but his body was so cold. It was colder, even, than Chris’s had been, and worse, I could feel the emptiness inside of him.

  He was gone.

  At least his face looked peaceful.

  I kneeled there for as long as I dared. Finally, I heard the mournful wail of the sirens. I wiped from the tears from eyes and left.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I’m still not sure how I managed to find my way back to the truck, start it, and get cruising down the highway. Part of me considered driving through the night—how far could I get? Would the Order know I had left? Would they notice Buckner’s truck was missing and come looking for me? I had the money in my wallet, and that was something, and Diesel—where was Diesel?

  He hadn’t greeted me when I got back on the truck.

  Panicking, I risked a glance back, trying to find him in the cab. My eyes took a few seconds to locate him. He was sniffing at something by the bed, and while he wasn’t growling, his hair was definitely standing on end—and his tail—

  And then, the cover on the back of the bed moved, and I almost swerved off the road. I wasn’t sure at first—

  A hand snuck out and swatted Diesel away. Not to be deterred, he erupted into a flurry of barking. He jumped on the lump under the covers and attacked with force.

  I was pulling over as the bed exploded, Shawn’s face emerging from under the covers. “Goddamnit, you fucking bitch!”

  Diesel growled back as I grabbed my tire thumper, my heart pounding in my ears. Had I already been found?

  Shawn was already on his feet. He waved his hand quickly, like a fan, a small red dot of liquid glinting in the low cab lights. “You’re going to try attacking me with a cudgel? Really?” He tapped the bulge at his side, and I knew it was a gun.

  “Shoot me, then. You’re going to have to.” My veins were buzzing with adrenaline, but I knew it was the truest thing I had ever said.

  “Relax.” He pulled the gun out and laid it on the bed, before taking two steps toward me with his hands up and open. “And where’s Jeff? Unless—” His eyes bugged. “Wow, I considered he might give you the okay to run away with his rig, but I never thought he’d actually do it. He loves this truck.”

  He turned and stopped midsentence. I guess he must have noticed the look on my face, the way my lip had already started to tremble. I sucked in a breath.

  “No.” He shook his head, his voice low and cold. “No, no, no.”

  Something snapped in me, and I hurled my tire-thumper at his head. “What do you care? You wouldn’t even talk to him—”

  Shawn didn’t duck, and the tire thumper collided with his face, hard enough to snap his head back. I expected him to rush me, to explode, but instead, he just sank to the bed and dropped his face into his hands.

  I watched, stunned, as he sobbed. And then, it was like magic came over him—his breath slowed, little by little, and the tears faded away. “How did it happen?”

  “Josh. He . . . he tried to kill me. And Buckner saved me. I tried to save him, too, but I was too late.”

  A red flash of anger traveled across his cheeks, and his face got a look I have never seen before. The hatred written there would have chilled me, if it had not also been mirrored in my own soul.

  “Josh.”

  I nodded.

  “Move.”

  I slid over. Shawn brushed past me and jumped into the driver’s seat.

  “Hey, what are you—” The roar and beeps of the truck starting drowned out my last word, and I had to yell. “Doing?’

  “We don’t have very long before the order communicates to everyone this truck is stolen. But even before then, the problem is you. You don’t know any of our CB calls or our signals—blinkers, flashers, what speed to hold—you’d give us away in a second.” He started back down the highway, shifting up through the gears, the truck responding to his hands as well as it did to Buckner’s—and far better it did to mine.

  I was being kidnapped again. Instead of fear, though, there was something else—a dark, roaring flame that leaped through me and caught everything on fire. “Who the fuck said you could come with me? I mean, what are you even doing here?”

  He laughed like a madman. “My dear, I’m here to run away with you.”

  “No, you’re—”

  I stopped at the gun he leveled at my head. When had he grabbed it? Or was it another one? Who carries two guns?

  My throat closed up. Even with half of his attention on the road, he wouldn’t miss the shot. “This again?” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the flicker in the mirrors as a small car flew up the hammer lane. It wouldn’t be able to pass, though. An ancient, navy sedan was camped in the left lane, going just barely faster than we were.

  He glanced over at me, and his hand sank like a deflating balloon. “You’re right. I can’t make you do this.” He didn’t slow for the compact car to get over in front of us.

  “You’re damn right you can’t. If you’re going to shoot me, then do it. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve been pretty damn accommodating, and nobody is going to go—will you slow down?” The compact car, its blinker on, was wobbling in its lane and tailgating the sedan in front of it.

  “Ah. Sorry.” He eased off the fuel. The small car darted in front of us, cutting it so close I pressed my fingernails into my palm, before flipping back over into the left lane in front of the sedan and flooring it. Its tail-lights disappeared in the dark. “So?”

  “So?” I felt my brows come together.

  “So, I get it. You’re tired of being threatened and pushed around. Are you going to let me come with and help you, or not?”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t expected that.

  I thought about the road ahead of me. I would be on the run, maybe forever, a secret organization with untold resources pursuing me the whole time. The enormity of my task hit me in a single, crushing blow. I was a fugitive—not from the law, but from something darker, with less protections and rules. And I would have to do it alone.<
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  And Shawn? I knew I couldn’t trust him, could I? He could have been sent here by the Cronus, in case I attempted to make a run for it. Or Buckner could have been trying to frame me, to absolve himself by—

  No. That was one place I wasn’t going to go. Out of everybody, Buckner I could trust. He had laid down is life for me, protected me from Josh. If he merely wanted me dead—the blood on someone else’s hands— that was the perfect opportunity.

  No, Buckner was in the clear, and I was a horrible person for even doubting that. I said my silent apology.

  But Shawn?

  I waited as he shifted down to let another car pass. He glanced up at me, his face in that unreadable expression that only he could pull off to perfection—an expression so much like the one Buckner’s held sometimes that my throat caught. “You’re pretty quiet.”

  “Yeah, I. . ." Have no idea what I’m doing? Am still in shock about Buckner? Have every reason to hate you?

  But don’t?

  I looked back in the cab at Diesel. He was curled up into a little ball, his tongue lolling out as he slept. My gaze traveled out the window, at the dark expanses of road I could barely see. It bounced to my mirrors, the marker lights standing out like neon fireflies.

  I looked at my hands, and then I closed my eyes as I realized what would have to be said next. If he was going to risk his life traveling with me, he had a right to know. “I’m not the Lily.”

  “What?” The blank expression evaporated, his brows furrowing.

  “Joseph said he thought I might be the Lighthouse. He’s right. When Buckner—” I swallowed through the lump in my throat. “When Buckner passed, there was a moment where a light came out of me, and it . . . I think it may have killed everyone. At the very least, it knocked them all over. And there were four glitches in building, and after the . . . explosion . . . they were all gone.” I hadn’t liked the word, but it was the only one that fit.

  “I don’t understand.” He squinted at something in the distance. “Are you saying that you killed four glitches and knocked out six Markers with a magic light?”