by Rachel West
“What if they couldn’t?” Jaxon says slowly. “What if they couldn’t wait us out?”
Red turns to Jaxon, “What do you mean?”
“If we were unable to live forever. We’d be on equal footing. We could…” he trails off. Lost in thought.
“Yes. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I’m sure the Millennials are just waiting for the chance to give up their immortality. I mean, if it makes the fight fair, why wouldn’t they? Millennials are known for their fairness, right?” Red says sarcastically.
“Red,” I warn.
“What?” He snaps. “Is that what you two have been doing in here the last couple of days? Planning a happy little rebellion? Brilliant idea, that.”
I share a guilty look with Jaxon. “It’s better than doing nothing,” I say peevishly.
“When we spoke with Vertigo I did not share the whole truth,” Jaxon says over our argument.
Red and I pause in our bickering. “What?” I ask.
“When he asked about how we live forever. The Turritopsis dohrnii, the jellyfish– I know where they are. They are kept in a facility miles past the furthest work-prison. The others,” Jaxon waves his hand towards the air to indicate the Millennials. “They are drugged for the journey but my father said it was too dangerous for a Prayer to spend so long unawares. So I know how to get there. I know how to get us there.”
“And we what, destroy it?”
Jaxon gives a slow, lazy smile.
“Are you serious?”
“Are you insane?” Red says in the same tone.
“Like you said. It is better than running.”
“The three of us could never manage it on our own,” Red says. But I can see him rolling the idea around in his mind. Testing it out. Looking for flaws.
Jaxon shrugs with easy confidence. “So we get others to help us.” He gestures outwards, “we’re surrounded by people who hate the Millennials and Praetors.”
“But we--” I pause. I have no decent argument against what he’s suggesting. No better ideas.
“Think about it,” Jaxon says. “The reason your lives are like this is because the Millennials are in power. Things will never change because it will always be the same people in control. The Praetors are so vicious because they are trying to prove themselves worthy of becoming a Millennial. Without the dohrnii, all that would be taken away. There would be a chance for things to be different. Everyone would be on the same footing.”
“Could you do it though? Fight against your own people?”
For the first time I see doubt in Jaxon’s eyes. His eyes crinkle with uncertainty and he cracks his knuckles to buy himself time to answer. It would take a lot, to fight your own people. To fight your own father.
Jaxon turns to me, bearing a solemn look. “It is the only way. We have nothing left to lose. We might fail. But if we don’t fight back, we lose anyway.”
CHAPTER 9
“Stay here,” I order Annie.
Annie angrily crosses her arms over her chest. I mimic her pose -- unwilling to back down. I use anger to hide my fear. I want to protect her – I need to protect her. And keeping her distant from this is the only way I know how.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“To the atrium.” It’s just before dinner -- the same hour that Captain Vex executed Bernard yesterday. We need to see how serious the Praetors are. Will they truly execute someone each day until Jaxon turns himself in? Is this what our lives will become? Counting down the hours until the next body?
“Why can’t I go too?” she whines.
“Because…” I try to find the words to explain.
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “I didn’t want to go anyway.”
I sigh with both relief and frustration. At least she’s speaking again. Even if half our conversations are arguments. I know her time in the workcamps changed her. I know she didn’t return as the child she left. I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to get to know her, to understand the life that she’s had but every time I start to think I’ve broken down the wall she builds it just a little bit higher.
Sometimes it’s easier to ignore it.
“Good,” I nod, satisfied.
I leave Annie behind in our room and meet up with Jaxon and Red in the hallway. Jaxon’s pulled his hood up and covered the lower half of his face with a scarf. Everything hidden except for his brilliant green eyes. Red is dressed similarly in his black Coliseum gear. Stiff leather that clings to his body. The high collar stretches to his jaw line -- I lean in closer and run my fingers across the material. Spidersilk. Across his heart and throat, protecting his most vital regions. Such a small cut of spidersilk would cost a fortune but Red’s managed to win it and more through his fights in the Coliseum.
“Let’s go,” I say with determination. I throw my shoulders back. I will not walk through the passages of the Hollows beaten down. I am not frightened.
Red leads the way and Jaxon falls in step next to me.
“No Annie?” He asks.
“No.” I expect further questions but instead he nods in agreement.
“It is probably for the best.”
I grunt in acknowledgement. I can’t keep Annie away from this. Eventually it will invade every aspect of our lives. But while I can, I will give her the time she needs to recover.
“Are you ready for this?”
I look to Jaxon from the corner of my eye. He’s awfully chatty. Nervous? “Are you?” I ask half-jokingly.
I see a hint of pink rise over the scarf across his face. He is nervous. “They could kill us all,” he says defensively. “They could kill you.”
From ahead, Red barks a laugh. “We’d only be so lucky.”
Jaxon darts another nervous glance towards me. I shrug. Sometimes even I don’t understand the gallows humor of the professional fighter. Instead I run my hand down Jaxon’s and through the cloth I can feel his warmth. He shivers beneath my touch. “We’ll be fine,” I tell him.
“Of course,” he says and suddenly he is back to his old self. Cocky and arrogant and full of confidence that stems from years of the world bowing to him.
The atrium is only half full when we arrive. Hundreds are pushed together in front of the screen that arches over us. The three of us circle around the outside of the crowd, careful not to draw any questioning eyes in our direction.
Already the screen is focused in on execution square. There is a crowd, numbering in the thousands that seems to seethe and flow with its own life. The scene is drastically different than here in the Hollows. Bright colors and waving arms, waiting for the next execution like it’s some kind of festival. I’ve always wondered how they could do it – stand there and cheer while someone loses their life. Haven’t we all lost enough?
I’ve heard stories of executions not drawing enough of a crowd. So the Praetors would round up some of the healthier looking denizens of the Slums and force them into the crowds where those who didn’t cheer loud enough would find themselves risking their own life.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath as we step to the front of the crowd. Who will it be? Another neighbor? A girl I went to elementary with? Or a stranger? Some poor soul who had nothing to do with this, nothing to do with Jaxon or I, but still pays the price.
Jaxon takes my hand and squeezes my wrist comfortingly. The soft leather of his gloves is warm like true flesh. I shudder and let him pull me closer.
The screen flashes once, twice, then Captain Vex saunters her way on stage wearing the same outfit as yesterday. I look her over and can’t imagine that she has time for necessities like eating or shopping or sleeping. No, that woman is pure drive; ambition seeps from her pores. Does she think if she captures Jaxon, the Great Uniter will reward her by bringing her into the Millennial club? I remember what Red says, about how the cruelest Praetors are the ones desperate for immortality. I shake my head at the stupidity of it all. The snake eating its own tail.
“Jaxon Prayer,” the came
ra focuses on the Captain’s face, “I see that perhaps you think we are not serious. That our promise is empty. Before me stand four innocents from the Factory District where we know you have taken to ground.” Four hooded shadows are shoved to their knees on the stage in front of Vex.
I stifle a gasp. Will she kill all four of them? She said one. Yesterday she said she would only kill one each day. I turn my eyes to Jaxon, begging him to tell me that she wouldn’t murder all of them. Jaxon gives a miniscule shake of his head but his eyes stay focused on the screen.
I turn back as the camera pans across the four individuals. Their hoods are removed with swift yank from the Praetors behind them. Two men and two women. One of them can’t be any older than Annie is, no more than a girl.
“Would you condemn these innocents to death?” The crowd roars and Vex’s next words are lost in its thunder
I turn from the screen and stare at Jaxon. Can we really allow others to die for us? Do we have that right? To not step up and face what we’ve done? Is our decision to fight nothing more than cowardice? A way to avoid the blame for the crimes we’ve already committed. A way to hide?
If I gave Jaxon up, if I called the Praetors down on us, I could save all the innocent who are suffering for the crimes we wrought. Jaxon would go back to his life in Crescent City. There would be punishment for him, I am sure of it, but they would never execute one of their own. He would be forgiven. Eventually.
I am a different story. There is no doubt in my mind that I have a very public execution to look forward to should I turn myself into the Praetors. But I’ve done what I promised myself. I’ve saved my sister. Her life might be…harder without me but she is free and that is all that matters.
A sob fights its way up my throat as I consider the option. Jaxon -- there is something about him. Something I can’t explain. I think I could die happy, just having known him. Maybe I love him. Maybe I don’t -- what do I know? But there is something about Jaxon Prayer that is impossible to pull away from and the thought of losing him fills me with an emptiness that leaves my fingers trembling.
Jaxon turns to look at me, eyes full of concern. Had he heard my cry? I swallow hard and offer him a shaky smile. I can’t. I can’t turn him in. Maybe it’s selfish but something holds me back. Whether a grudging attraction to Jaxon, or my own inability to give in, I can’t let him be caught.
I have to protect him. It’s no longer about my sister. No longer about my curiosity. It’s not even truly about him. It’s about how he is the first one in three hundred years who is willing to defy the Great Uniter. He’s willing to fight, not just for himself, but for me and Annie and Red. Maybe even for everyone else who lives in this godforsaken city.
We need Jaxon. Without him, there is no hope left.
My decision is made. I cannot turn my back on -- whatever this is. A rebellion? A revolution? Grand words for nothing more than whispered plans deep underground but it is a start. And everything needs a beginning.
There is only one person left standing next to Captain Vex. Something has happened while I wasn’t looking, but what? Jaxon has his arms crossed over his chest and wears an angry look on his face. Have they already executed the other three? I glance around. No -- I see grim eyes and tight lips, but no sorrow. Not yet.
It’s one of the women they have crouched on the ground. The older of the two -- perhaps in her mid-forties. A mother surely. Someone’s wife. Someone’s daughter.
“Jaxon Prayer. May this death hang forever on your conscience,” Captain Vex yells theatrically.
The atmosphere in the atrium goes chill. My heart plunges as the executioner steps forward and in one swift motion removes the woman’s head.
“That’s enough,” Jaxon says.
I turn my head, “what?” I whisper from the side of my mouth. A few glance over curiously but none recognize him.
He pushes me lightly aside and strides away. I stumble forward and grab his wrist, yanking him around. The movement draws more attention down on us.
“What are you doing?” I whisper harshly.
“I will not hide down here like a coward,” he throws his hand out with a sharp gesture. “Surrounded by people who are dying because of me. They need to know who I am. We said we would do this – we said we would fight. But how can we do that if we cower away behind masks and closed doors?”
“Now is not the time to foolishly announce yourself to the world,” Red steps between us.
“I cannot….” Jaxon trails off and searches desperately for the words he needs. “I cannot allow this.”
“So turn yourself in,” Red says flippantly.
“Red,” I snap.
“Turning myself over will not change anything. We need to fight this. And to fight we need people on our side. Look around you -- all of these people hate the Praetors as much as I right now. Maybe we do not need a plan. If we stay holed up in our room until we have a solution more innocent people will die. Maybe it is time to step forward and take action. We are not cowards and I will not have these people thinking I am.”
“You’re being selfish,” Red says.
“I am being realistic.”
“Do what you want,” Red says with a shrug, “but when these people turn on you, don’t expect me to rescue your delicate hide.”
“That’s enough,” I cut them both off before the argument can intensify further.
“No Evie. I have to do what is right.”
“What’s stupid is more like,” Red gets in one more blow.
“Regardless,” Jaxon shrugs eloquently, “It must be done.”
I search for any argument to keep him from going forward. Anything at all that will keep us safe for another day. But maybe he is right. The three of us are not an army and alone we have no hope. But if we can convince others to our side? Others who are angry and frustrated and just as ready to lash out at the Praetors as we are….
“Be careful,” I mumble and step back.
Jaxon nods slowly and I swear I can see the scarf he wears crinkle over a smile. “Always.”
He moves like liquid through the crowd. Angry murmuring surrounds us as the screen focuses on the poor woman’s body.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” Red says.
I shrug helplessly. I won’t let anyone touch Jaxon. Not the Millennials. Not the Praetors. Certainly not this rag-tag bunch of criminals. He is mine.
Jaxon leaps up onto the dais beneath the screen. Dressed all in black with his face covered he looks like some kind of assassin standing there. His shoulders thrown back arrogantly, his back arched into a curved hip.
No, I decide, not an assassin at all. A prince. A Millennial Prince. As he stands there I realize that Jaxon will never be able to escape what he is; it bleeds from every part of him. A Millennial. A leader. A force more powerful than a storm gone off-track. Slowly he unravels the scarf from around his face. As he drops his hood my nails bite into the soft flesh of my palm. What will they do? What have we done?
“My name is Jaxon Prayer,” he states, “and I believe it is time we met.”
CHAPTER 10
When Jaxon speaks to the crowd it’s like fire runs through him. He promises a reality that most of us wouldn’t dare dream of. A Haven where we can be free, where we can lead our own lives without interference from the Praetors. A city we don’t need to fear. And he speaks so rationally, so surely, that I can’t help but believe him. My blood tingles with his words. Whispers of hope trail across my skin and join in with the same tendrils from those around me until the feeling has built into this overwhelming, almost physical presence.
The crowd is mesmerized by him. I am mesmerized by him. His eyes flash defiantly and he stands taller and taller as his words build to a crescendo.
When Jaxon’s speech is complete there is only silence. The denizens of the Hollows stare up at him as if they don’t understand what he is or what he offers. A quiet muttering fills the atrium; a restless shifting like storm winds blowing through
leaves. Jaxon examines the crowd closely, as if he’s taking the measure of every man and woman in the room.
I wait, my blood burning with fear and hope, and wonder what the crowd will do. Will they accept him? Or will they turn him away and sacrifice him to the Praetors.
Jaxon hops down from the dais. The crowd parts easily before him and he makes his way to me.
“We should go,” he jerks his head to the exit, “there is nothing more we can do. It is up to them now.”
“I’ll stay here,” Red says. “Make sure no one follows you. I’ll meet you back at the rooms.”
Jaxon nods his agreement then turns from the room. I listen to the crowd behind us, the muttering of a thousand confused voices. Our salvation or our death?
I trail behind Jaxon until we’ve left the crowd behind us. I watch as he sags into himself, exhaustion overwhelming the false confidence he showed the crowd. Disowned, I think. His father disowned him. I think of my own father, a man who left when I was a child, the hurt I’ve felt in the years since. To be rejected by your own blood….
“Do you hate me?” I ask meekly.
Jaxon stops dead in the middle of the hallway then turns to face me. “What?”
“It’s my fault. Being on the run. The Hollows. It’s my fault and because of me you’ve lost everything.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Jaxon says and begins walking away.
“I mean it,” run up and grab his elbow from behind, forcing him to stop and face me.
“Do you think I cannot make my own decisions?” he narrows his eyes at me, “my own choices? I chose to be here. I left my family. I chose to stay.” He shakes my hand free of his and pulls his hood lower over his eyes.
“But...” I try to find the words to explain what I mean but all I see is his anger. “It’s not what you thought it would be. You said – You said you were only hiding until you found a way to help your father. But now? You can’t go back. Ever.”
“I could have returned home at any time,” he says with finality, ending the conversation. But he’s wrong. He’s lying and I don’t think he even realizes it. Because despite how he was raised, despite all the infuriating bits, there is something good about Jaxon. Something honorable. And I don’t think he could ever turn his back on a promise. It’s not who he is.
