“Are you girls all right?” I whisper.
Pia’s lip quivers and she breaks down, then Chloe and Raven join her. I wrap my arms around them and cry, too. We sob for a long time, purging every moment of darkness, setting it free into the air of the Refuge. I say a prayer to God or Mother Universe to take their pain and heal their torn and shattered spirits, to make them whole again.
“I was so scared, Momma Joy,” Chloe cries.
Pia wipes her nose. “Me, too!”
“I know how terrifying that must’ve been for you, but I promise he won’t hurt you again—”
“How do you know?” Raven asks. “We thought we were safe in Zentao, and now my grandpa’s dead, and we got taken by the bad man who killed my mommy and daddy! And now where are we? With a bunch of Synths who could turn bad and kill us all. I’ve seen it happen before!”
“Raven, honey, please . . .” I squeeze her hand. “I know you’ve been through so much—we all have. But we have to breathe and take things one step at a time. Right now, we’re safe, okay? And we need to bathe and rest.”
“I don’t want to bathe.” Pia sniffles.
“Me, neither,” says Chloe. “Ever again.”
“What—?” I look to Raven for an explanation.
“His servants scrubbed us clean three times a day,” she says. “While he watched.”
“Oh my God . . .” Shaking my head, I pull them close again. “What a sick man.”
“Please don’t make us,” Chloe begs.
“I won’t. If you don’t want to, I won’t make you. Not today. Not for a while. Now, lie down and rest.”
Raven hops up and moves a nearby empty cot right up next to the one we’re sitting on. “Excuse me,” she says to two older girls sitting on the cot next to that. “Could you move?”
They give her a look, but I nod to them and they move to another cot. Raven pushes the third one up against the second, creating a cozy resting space for them. “There,” she says. “Now we can rest, because we’ll all be together.”
“Let me shower, then I’ll grab you girls some fresh clothes on my way out, okay? Then you can change out of these dresses if you want.” I tuck them into their pushed-together cots, and kiss each one on the head. “Serna?”
She peeks up at me from her cot.
“They’re just going to lie down. I’ll take three others.”
She gives a nod, and a handful of girls jump up. They push at each other, competing for who goes first. From the looks of it, bathing isn’t a thing in the Impure Village.
“Everyone will get the chance to bathe,” I say, though not too loud. At the far end of the room, Baby Lou’s already dozing off in Zee’s arms. While I untie my boots and slip them off of my feet, the boys chatter on the other side of the thick sheet wall. For the first time in years, Jax isn’t one of them.
“Momma Joy?” Chloe tugs at my sleeve.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You promised you wouldn’t let nothin’ bad happen to us again. You promised. But somethin’ bad did happen.” She sniffles, plops her thumb in her mouth.
“You were right there,” Raven says, “and you didn’t . . . save us . . .”
“He would’ve killed me, I couldn’t. Besides, I didn’t have my memory back yet, and Zee . . .” I recall the night spent with Lord Daumier, a detonation of rage, guilt, and remorse. No matter what I say, it won’t ease their pain. So instead, I wrap Chloe up in my arms. “I’m so, so sorry. I wish you could understand. To get you out of there, I had to do what I had to do. I’m so sorry he hurt you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t save you sooner.”
Together, we cry for a moment, before Pia and Raven join our embrace, and our tears.
“We saw . . . what he did to you,” Pia says. “He’s a bad man.”
“And we couldn’t save—save you, either,” Raven sobs.
“I wish you hadn’t seen that, girls. I’m so, so sorry—”
“But at least you got us out now. Right, Momma Joy?” Pia asks. “And we don’t have to ever, ever go back? Ever?”
I pause, almost hesitant to make another promise I’m unsure I can keep. But there’s no other way; I’ll have to keep it this time. “You’ll never have to see that horrible man or that place ever again. I promise.”
“But you—you promised last time!” Chloe cries, and I along with her.
“I know I did. But this time, I really, really promise. I won’t let that man—or anyone else—hurt any of you, ever again. Okay?”
And they all nod, ready to be fed any assurance of safety, whether it be truth or lie.
I kiss their foreheads. “Now you get some rest. I love you, girls.”
Chloe kisses me back. “We love you, too, Momma Joy. Thank you for saving us.” She and Pia lie down on either side of Raven.
“I’d give my life for you girls.” With a smile, I pull their blankets up to their chins, then head toward the washroom.
How’s it going over there? Mateo’s mind-voice makes me jump.
You scared me.
Sorry. Should I knock first?
Three girls pass me in the washroom doorway, and I follow them in. Funny. Yes, everything’s fine over here. What about your side?
Perfect. I’m about to shower.
That’s good. You look terrible.
Gee, thanks.
I giggle aloud.
When are you going to visit Smudge and Em? he asks.
Zee and I are going after we’re clean. Come with us and get checked out.
Yeah, okay. Let me know when you’re ready.
I will.
The three girls disappear behind half-rotted shower curtains, while I take the last stall on the left with its cracked, gray floor tile, green around the edges and in the corners. It’s a rapture I’m more than happy to settle for, though. Once I’m inside the stall, I rip off the dress and toss it over the curtain rod. My ribs and lungs thank me; now able to draw in a full breath without restriction.
The rusted knobs squeak as I turn them on, and cool water sprays down. I jump at its shock to my skin, but it warms in seconds, and I melt beneath it. I pluck pins and tiny wilted flowers from my hair, and drop them in the corner of the shower, then immerse myself in its downpour. There’s a slight sting of salt in my eyes as it washes away the day’s filth, along with Claudette’s masterpiece. Ocean water. I’m showering in poorly filtered ocean water. Real, not a computer program to trick my mind. So strange . . . Even though I’ve experienced the ocean—twice now—neither time was actually the ocean. Is this the closest I’ll ever get to it?
After scrubbing the makeup from my face, I wash up with a bar of gritty, handmade soap, and think of Billy’s Dragon. It was another lifetime when I last told that story. I’m not even sure I’m the same person anymore. I’ve lost so much. Like Billy, I’ve been near death, both outside and in, more times than I can count. So many I’ve loved have been ripped away from me too soon, and though I’ve gained one back again, I have a few more to regain.
Pieces of me are strewn far and wide across Bygonne; the flooded paradise, Zentao; and Alzanei. And though I should be paper thin and fragile, crippled by the constant shattering of my heart, somehow, I feel stronger. I am stronger. I’m alive. We’re alive. With Zee’s help, I saved my Baby Lou and the rest of my brothers and sisters, and friends—most of them—from horrible, undeserved deaths. We are survivors; we’ve cheated death once again. We’re warriors.
We are somewhat indestructible.
The Treemakers of Greenleigh and the Saltminers of the Subterrane have proven once more that they cannot be contained. Another escape to tally on our list. What’s left? Prove to Lord Daumier and his Clergy that the only way we would ever leave a soul behind . . . is if we plan to take it back.
Why do I sense everything will be all right in the end? Wishfu
l thinking? Or is something inside guiding me, aiding us in overcoming any odds that face us . . . ? My daddy’s spirit, maybe? God? Mother Universe? Some all-knowing energy swirling around the righteous, fueling them with the things that strengthen them? Allegiance. Aspiration. Ardor. An aching to be carefree and fearless without the threat of capture or horrific death—forevermore . . . These things keep us strong, push us onward.
Maybe it’s this warm water, rinsing away the filth from another hellish day that gives me such high hopes, but I sense the triumph Cheyenne promised, feel it in my soul. That one day we’ll sit around an open fire, together and free, basking in its raging warmth and blazing promise of life. That day is coming.
But it isn’t here yet.
I rinse the soap from my hair and body, then kill the water. Thanks to my daydreams, I’m the last one left in the washroom. I snatch a towel from the nearby wall rack and wrap it around myself while the drip-drip of the faucets echo in the silence. Murmurs float through the doorway from the three little girls who may forever remain filthy.
On a rack by the door sit stacks of clean clothes. Upon searching through them, I find they’re organized by size, though they’re the most boring clothes I’ve ever seen. I choose a brown cotton shirt and gray cotton pants, some undergarments from a small wooden crate, and a pair of socks with few holes, and I collect three outfits for the girls. More luxury than we ever had back in Greenleigh.
After running a comb with missing teeth through my wet hair, I exit the washroom, a new woman. Chloe, Pia, Raven, and a few others, have drifted off to sleep. Guess showers and changing clothes can wait for the rest of them. A young AOAI woman in white—a nurse, I’m guessing—moves from cot to cot, checking everyone for illness and injury, while at the far end of the room, Zee’s lost in Baby Lou’s sleeping face. This makes me grin. But as I approach, Zee’s humming sends a chill through me. I’d know that song anywhere.
Where did you learn that song? I ask her.
She sees me and stops, laying Baby Lou down onto the blanketed cot with a new bottle, covering her. I heard you hum it that night with Lord Daumier, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. “The nurse wants to check you out before we leave,” she says. “And I’ll take a quick shower.”
The nurse approaches. “Are you Joy?”
“Yes.” I extend my hand, and she shakes it.
“I’m Stitch. For obvious reasons.” She winks.
“Nice to meet you. Do you know how our friend, Smudge, is doing?”
“She is stable. She’s very fortunate to be alive.”
“We’re very fortunate she’s alive.”
Stitch smiles, then stands. “Well, Miss Serna, you’re cleared for sleep. We’ll get you started on a Full Health Treatment in the morning. It’ll be nightfall in a couple of hours. At sunset, we shut down power to the majority of the building—except for computer systems, air filtration and any ventilators, security cameras and intruder alarms.”
“Why’s that?” Serna asks.
“It makes us harder to locate. Intruders would most likely attempt a night invasion, following any strong electrical signals present. That’s why we shut down the largest power circuits—the building’s lights, the coaster and Ferris wheel, etcetera—at night.”
“Has anyone ever attempted a night invasion?” I ask.
“Not in a long time. Since the explosives were implemented. Sit.” She pats the edge of Serna’s cot. “Let’s make sure you’re healthy.”
I take a seat and she runs a curved rod along my forehead. It blinks blue, then beeps, and the light becomes orange. She removes it from my skin and examines it, trying to hide her alarm. She glances in Zee’s direction and they make eye contact. After a silent moment, she turns back to me. “Cleared for sleep.” She tucks her screening equipment back into a black case.
“What is it? What were you discussing with Zee? I know you were talking to her just now.”
“Oh. Okay . . . you have a new model Nirvonic System. It surprised me. But she says she has it under control.”
“Yes, she does.”
Zee passes us on her way to the washroom. “I’ll be right out.”
“I’ll be here,” I say.
“All right, then,” says Stitch. “You get some rest now—”
“Actually, a few of us would like to go see Smudge and Emerson in the medical wing, and our friend, Mateo, may need further treatment. Would that be all right?”
“Let me check.” She concentrates inward for a couple of minutes, then refocuses on me. “Yes, Star tells me Emerson is doing great, and though Smudge hasn’t yet regained consciousness, she’s stable enough to be out of danger. You are welcome to visit them. And Gage agrees that Mateo should go to the medical wing. He has extensive superficial wounds that need treatment, and he may need to stay the night. ”
“Thank you. And Gage is—?”
“Another nurse. He’s checking the boys on the other side right now.”
“Okay, great. Thank you so much.”
“Do you need me to escort you to the medical wing?”
“Doesn’t Zee know where it is?”
“She may, but I’ll send her a map anyway. Now, I’ll be moving down to the last three girls. The screening won’t wake them. Have you all had any recent medical treatment?”
“We had blood tests done in Zentao, before it flooded. Ms. Ruby said . . .” A sadness envelopes me as I remember her and the news she told me, her love and concern for everyone. I continue in a shaky voice. “She said we all needed breathing treatments and vitamins. A couple of kids might have asthma, but other than that, we’re remarkably healthy.”
“Fantastic. And I’m sorry . . . you must have lost many people you loved.”
I stare at my hands. Too fresh a wound to open for a stranger.
“I’ll try to salvage any data I can from Zentao,” says Stitch. “But the Full Health Treatment should bring everyone to where they need to be. It’s a new technology that uses stem cells to replenish weakened areas of the immune system. Once they are strengthened, the body inherently knows how to, and will, heal itself. The FHT speeds up this process.”
“Sounds great. Thanks again.”
“You bet. We’re happy to have you all here.” She pats my back. “Now, you two have a restful night.”
We tell Stitch goodnight, and she heads off a few cots over to the three sleeping flower girls.
Serna yawns and stretches. “You okay, Joy?”
“Much better now. You?
“I’m okay.” Her gaze drifts down to her hands in her lap, and she yawns again.
“You look exhausted, you poor thing.”
“They didn’t let us sleep.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“This stupid alarm sounded every thirty minutes and kept us awake. They said they didn’t want us getting too comfortable because we wouldn’t be there for long.”
“Who told you that?”
“One of the guards. He was younger than the rest. A boy, my age. He said the bell was a form of torture, a way to make us easier to handle.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Joy, he . . . he kissed me.”
“He did?”
“Yes. On the cheek. And he snuck in extra food, which I gave to the youngers in my cell. He said he hated Alzanei and Lord Daumier, and he wished he could leave. They’d kill him if they heard him say that.” She looks up at me with a different sort of sadness. “I wish we could’ve brought him with us. He was a nice boy. Not his fault the other ones are bad.”
I take her hand. “They aren’t all bad. Zee and I met a man named Eugene right before he . . . died. A good soul trying to avenge his sister’s death and fight for their freedom. The Impures are good, but they’re prisoners. And when we go back for Jax and Vila, we’ll free
them, too.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes, but we don’t have a choice. They also took . . . my son.”
“Your son?”
“I was pregnant, and the Pures took him, tore him right out from inside me.”
Serna studies me, then she wraps me up in a tight embrace. “Oh, Joy . . . I’m so sorry.”
“We’re going to get him back, though. We’ll defeat Lord Evil and put an end to all of this. We’ll set them all free, and we’ll finally be free, too.”
Serna drops her gaze to her lap again and sighs. “I hope you’re right, because I’m so tired of running, of escaping. That’s all we’re ever doing.”
“I know, we’re all tired of it. But it won’t always be that way. Our day’s coming.” And I give her a genuine smile, which she returns. “So, hey . . . can you go lie in the cot next to Baby Lou’s? When Zee’s finished in the washroom, we’re going to go check on Smudge and Emerson. After that, you can shower if you want.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be showering tonight. I’m way too tired.”
“Whatever you want to do is fine. If you need rest, take it.”
We pad over to Baby Lou as Zee exits the washroom in clothes similar to mine.
“Ready?” Zee whispers.
“Yeah.”
Serna lies down on my cot, curling up inches from my sleeping Baby while I wave goodbye. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” she says. “Be careful.”
Mateo, I think. We’re headed out.
I’ll be right there.
Moments later, Zee and I meet him in the doorway to the hall. Even cleaned up with a fresh change of clothes, he still looks like hell. I slip my arms around his waist, and we hold each other tight for a while, but when I slide my hands up his back—he flinches—and I remember.
“Oh my God, Mateo. I’m so sorry, I—”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. They’re healing. But that shower—with the salt?—goddamn, that was rough.”
“Oh, I bet . . . May I?”
“No, it’s fine—”
“Please?”
For a moment, he stares at me, then turns and peels up his black shirt to reveal the angry lash marks. I cover my mouth, eyes swimming with tears. “I did that to you . . .”
The Soultakers (The Treemakers Trilogy Book 2) Page 27
