Harken (Harken Series)

by Kaleb Nation

  Was I completely blind? Her family had been killed so the Guardians could catch her. And she’d been caught so the Guardians could find me. I was the reason that she was now alone.

  Of course she had every reason to hate me. Here I’d been running free, while the only thing she had left—her own life—was hanging around me like a fragile glass necklace, just waiting for me to stumble and crush it. If I were her, I’d have hated me too.

  And yet she lay with such a mask of calm control. I could never have held it together as well as she did.

  “I—I never said thank you,” I broke the silence. “I don’t know any other girls who’d take down a plane to save me.”

  Finally, something worked, because I saw one end of her mouth fighting against a smirk that threatened to reveal itself.

  “I don’t do it because I care,” she told me. “I do it because I have to.”

  A tiny victory for me, at least? As if reading my mind, she narrowed her eyes.

  “Look,” she told me, “if I didn’t need to keep you safe, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be out there chasing each and every one of these Guardians myself and blowing their brains out.”

  I swallowed. The harsh words were like poison flowing from her mouth.

  “But I’m stuck,” she said. “The Guardians seemed certain I’d die if you did, and after everything I’ve seen, I’m leaning to believe them.”

  “Have you even stopped to ask why?” I said.

  “Does it really matter?” she muttered in reply. “We’re here now. We better start getting to know each other because I think we’ll be stuck this way for a while.”

  I wanted badly to read her eyes. I still hadn’t had a chance to. With her back to me now, she’d erected the wall between us even higher. All I got was the hint of desolation in her voice: emptiness, hopelessness, and a future devoid of anything other than survival. Her only reason to live was to stay alive.

  I almost asked more, wanting to know why we were so supernaturally connected. But I was done trying to break through her shell. So I rolled over too, and we lay on the rocks with our backs to each other, letting the whistling wind fill the void instead.

  * * *

  Not much time passed until Thad returned, carrying two plastic grocery bags in his arms. He regarded me and Callista in our opposing positions with some worry but didn’t ask, because he was a smart person and knew when to keep his mouth shut, unlike another male on that cliff. I sat up as he dropped one of the bags, filled with bottles of water. He held the other out toward me.

  “Happy birthday,” he proclaimed, sweeping the plastic away to reveal a boxed-up birthday cake hiding inside. It was one of the cheap, undecorated cakes that grocery stores sell in their bakery. At the sight of it, I felt a thrill. I was seventeen now. I’d forgotten but Thad hadn’t.

  I nodded my thanks at Thad. He looked quite happy that he’d been able to brighten things up, and he waved an arm for Callista to come with us.

  “Forks?” Callista asked. Thad stopped.

  “Plates?” she tried. His face fell slightly.

  “I—I just thought of the cake…” he said defensively.

  “We can use our hands,” I said, sitting down and putting the cake in front of me. Thad and Callista sat down and we made a small circle with the cake at the center, and dug pieces of it out with our fingers. Icing got stuck all over our palms but in the end none of us really cared. The cake tasted glorious, and served as a much needed distraction.

  When I was done, I licked my fingers clean and stood to roll my sleeping bag up. The others went on gobbling bits of cake, and I figured it was because they hadn’t had much real food in a while.

  Absently, I leaned forward to pull the edge of my sleeping bag up. To my surprise, I found that under my bag—down where my feet had been—was a piece of paper. It’d been there the entire time without me noticing.

  “What’s this?” I asked them, gesturing. I bent down to grab it.

  Suddenly, before my fingers could touch the paper, I was lifted up from the ground from behind, two arms looped around my shoulders. I gasped as I was whisked through the air.

  “Don’t touch it!” I heard Thad hiss from behind me. In a second, he and Callista and I were against the stonewall.

  “Where did that come from?” Callista demanded—claws out. The cake had been overturned in their outburst, splattered onto the rocks. I fought against Thad and he finally dropped me to my feet.

  “What was that?” I shouted. “What’s wrong with both of you?”

  “Did you put it there?” Thad asked Callista, ignoring me. She shook her head.

  “I didn’t even see it until now.” She looked at me. “Did you bring it? Was it in your pocket or something?”

  “No!” I told them. I didn’t know why they were reacting this way. Callista saw my confusion and swiftly grabbed me by the shoulder, spinning me back to look at the envelope.

  “See?” she said, pointing.

  Now I knew why they’d gotten such a fright. On the front of the envelope, written in large letters, were three words: TO: MICHAEL ASHER.

  12

  Anonymity

  The lonely white envelope sat amidst a sea of gray stone, its edge lifting slightly in the wind though never overturning. The paper was crisp and new, and its center bulged out from something held inside.

  “This isn’t good,” Callista said, looking up at the sky and then around the edges of the walls that hid us. “Someone had to have come here last night and left it. That means they know where we are.”

  “Just to drop off a letter?” Thad said. “Does that make sense?”

  “What have they done that’s ever made sense?” Callista countered, waving her hand toward the envelope. “Thad, you’ve seen some of the crazy stuff they have.”

  “He’s right, though,” I said. The others looked at me. I swallowed quickly.

  “I mean, we aren’t dead,” I told them. “We could be getting all worked up for nothing. And we won’t know unless we open it.”

  The morning air and eating some food had revived me in some way. So without waiting for any more arguing, I stepped across the rocks and grabbed the envelope.

  “See, no explosions,” I said, watching as both of them relaxed, if only slightly. I turned the envelope over a couple times in my hands, studying the edges and finding that the paper was dry, some dirt stuck in the edges but sealed tightly in the flaps. Whatever was inside wasn’t stiff, so I figured it was safe enough. I glanced up at the others, staring across enraptured. All attention was on me now.

  To make it more dramatic, I flicked my finger, and a single silver claw appeared. I liked the surprise on their faces: it made me feel like I was in control again. I drew my blade across the top of the envelope, severing the pieces.

  Callista appeared by my side as I pulled the halves apart. Inside was a single, folded piece of paper, thick like the expensive letter stock my mom sometimes used when trying to impress her clients. I could feel the anticipation as Callista and Thad pressed in closer. I unfolded the top third of the letter with fingers holding it gingerly by the edges, trying to put on a strong face so they wouldn’t know I was just as nervous as they were.

  When you open a letter, usually you start reading at the top. But in my case, when I bent both of the folds down, the first thing I saw was at the bottom of the page simply because a word on it leapt out at me.

  “Anon!” I couldn’t help myself as the name slipped out. The others looked up at me.

  “You know who this is from?” Callista asked. I wasn’t sure whether I should shake my head or nod.

  “I don’t know him,” I said. “But I know who he is. He’s…someone on the inside.”

  Nothing I could have said would have alleviated the questions I saw on their faces. My eagerness was too great to finish an explanation, so I looked back to the letter and read:

  To Mr. Asher,

  You have finally survived. Your lack of decease shows promise
.

  At the moment, you are safer than you will ever be for most of your existence. The group sent to end you is under the belief that you perished while attempting to save your Chosen in their plane crash. I am partially responsible for this deception. With your death, your family is now temporarily out of harm’s way. I believe your pursuers will not realize otherwise for a few days, after which you will be in danger again.

  Already, I am sure you are feeling lost. You do not know your place in the Grand Design. But I wish to assure you that you do have a place, your place serves a purpose, and all will soon be revealed, if you choose.

  Your two companions have a place in this Design as well. The duty of your Chosens is to protect you, their Guardian. This is their obligation. Their failure means their demise.

  At the bottom of this page is the address of a house. The owner is of no relevance. The window beside the chimney is open for you already. At this house, you will find the answer to who you are, why you are here, how you got where you are, and what you are to do. I cannot promise that these answers will make you happy.

  The house will remain untouched for three days, after which time it will find itself burned to ashes in an unfortunate electrical malfunction. Any evidence of your presence will disappear with it.

  If you desire to know the truth, you will follow my instructions. If you desire to disappear and pretend that you are not who you are, then you will never hear from me again.

  Choose wisely. Don’t trust anyone.

  ANON

  While the address at the bottom was circled in pen, there was no written signature. By the time I had reached the ending, the paper was shaking between my hands.

  No one said anything at first. An unfathomable silence fell upon us, as if the weight of the letter’s words tugged us toward the ground.

  My family is safe. It brought a racing feeling of relief, even if just a little. Maybe if the Guardians thought I was gone, then they’d simply let my death vanish into the cases of unsolved mysteries. But how long would it last?

  “So what’s that about?” Thad finally said. I met his eyes but looked away quickly, back to the paper, reading it a second time. The mysterious Anon strikes again. I remembered how secretive Father Lonnie had been even with this man’s reference, frightened at the mere thought of saying it aloud. How had Anon gotten the letter to me? Had he crept up sometime in the night and slipped it under me without being seen? Sent an associate? I doubted he’d risk telling someone else where we were. But I also doubted he’d risk his own safety. If it’d been anyone else, I’d have felt stupid and defeated. But all the secrecy that surrounded Anon had built him up as someone who could remain concealed no matter how much effort we’d put into hiding ourselves.

  “I really don’t know,” I replied exhaustedly. That was the best I could do. I waved the paper. “It’s probably stupid but I feel like I believe him.”

  “I don’t,” Callista said, breaking her silence abruptly. I hadn’t expected her to agree with me, but I was open to listening.

  “If he’s on our side, and he’s been watching all this, why didn’t he show up to help when the plane was going down, and you were nearly being killed?” she said. “What is he talking about, this obligation?”

  “I think he means the part where we die if Michael does,” Thad said under his breath.

  Callista slid a step away from both of us, hands out defensively.

  “Listen, I don’t even know you,” she said. Then, as if everything began to sink in to her at once, she blinked quickly and a frightened look overcame her. “I blew up a plane for you, and I just met you.” Her voice collapsed mid-sentence. “I blew up a plane. I’m a normal person. I don’t do things like this. I’m supposed to be at school right now. I’m supposed to be home. I don’t know how I got here!”

  If she’d had been anyone but Callista, she might have broken into tears then. But she only clenched her fists and composed herself.

  “I think I’ve already done my fair share,” she said in a hiss. “I’m not a part of whatever this Anon person is talking about. I just want to disappear and try to go back to normal.”

  “And what do you think normal means now?” Thad broke in. I picked up on some already-begun conversation they were having, something they’d already argued about before I’d even arrived. Callista’s fists tightened even more.

  “What do we have to go back to?” Thad continued. “Normal? They’ve already taken normal from us. You know that.”

  “I could go home,” she whispered through her teeth.

  “To what?” Thad argued. “They’ll find you there and kill you.”

  “But I don’t want to be here!” she shouted.

  “None of us want to be here!” I burst, the fury that I’d been withholding finally popping like a balloon.

  It shut her up instantly, her mouth snapping closed as she stared at me with pain on her face. It shocked her so much that it forced a Glimpse: terror, sadness, ferociously bitter fury mixed with vengeance. It was like a cocktail of mental agony, so strong it felt like a nail punched into my chest, and I immediately regretted my words.

  But I was right. We’d all been thrust into this against our will. That fact was only strengthened further when I looked around our tiny circle at the faces that stood across from me. Callista, the girl who I’d once thought was dead. Thad, the boy who I knew so little of, I had never even heard his last name. I doubted the three of us would have ever met had it not been for this chain of horrible events. It was like fate had unceremoniously shoved us together, but hadn’t been polite enough to provide an introduction.

  “I know you wish you were back home,” I pressed on, my voice calmer now. “I do too. But we’re here now. And there’s a whole lot of people out there who seem to not want us around, and sooner or later they’re going to realize we’re still alive.”

  The sides of Callista’s jaw bulged, her teeth ground together as tightly as she could force them. Her gaze wasn’t pointed at me though, looking downward, fighting to remain in control over herself. She knew I was right, she just didn’t want to admit it—not because it’d mean I won, but because it’d be admitting that going home wasn’t an option anymore. I found no victory in being right this time.

  “And I don’t trust him either,” I said, lifting the letter. “But he’s right, we don’t have any other choice. You said it yourself yesterday: if we go home, they’ll follow us. And I’d rather spend the few days we have of not being chased down and shot at actually finding out why.”

  I shifted my gaze to Thad. Out of both of them, I knew that he’d be the most likely one to support me. Already—and as much as it was against our wishes—we’d become a group, and when Thad nodded, it was a majority vote.

  * * *

  We rolled our sleeping bags but in the end figured that it wasn’t worth carrying them along. So we bunched them up into the corner of the cliff along with the bags of now-unneeded water bottles, hopeful that a wandering homeless person might find it and feel lucky. At least something positive might come out of our situation.

  Taking flight was far easier this time than the others had been. There was a moment of thrill as I felt myself rising, but it was hard to take much joy in it.

  Still, the strange familiarity of flying helped to calm my soul of its troubles. Part of me feared that I would soon take it for granted, that it was already weaving itself in as part of my being. If I just continued to believe that all of this would be over soon, then I’d be alright. It’ll all go back to normal, I tried to convince myself. But what if this was my new normal? The thought terrified me.

  I had a good sense of where Anon’s written address was leading us: somewhere in Beverly Hills, no less, otherwise known to me as “that place where all the rich people live”. I’d been there a number of times, spying on targets while trying to disguise my long-range camera so I wouldn’t get thrown out. Sometimes I’d even gone down there on my own to get pictures for my walls. It was almo
st sad how tourists would stand outside and take picture by the neighborhood’s entrance sign. It was as if that was the most they ever aspired to be: a person left standing outside a gate, the lesser-known subject in a picture of them and a wooden sign.

  We cut over hills and communities until we crossed out of the San Fernando Valley. The buildings were stacked together in clusters like shining gift boxes sorted into piles. A steady stream of heat hit me from both the sun above and the roads below, but the wind in my face managed to cool the sweat away. I could see different collections of buildings far off, cars darting in and out and massive jets passing unhindered above us.

  I led them now: it was strangest because it felt right. As we flew, the landscape below changed again, becoming more suburban with sprawling houses dotting the ground between heavy trees and clipped yards. When the attached garages got to be larger than my entire home, I knew I was nearing the right place. We descended slowly upon a street until finally the tops of the houses were so close I could have scraped them if I’d reached. There were expensive cars shining in the long driveways, vast rows of extinguished lights leading up to grand entrances. I doubted my life savings could have even bought their doorknobs.

  I kept checking the street signs. I realized how close we were to the ground. I still didn’t know the depth of my powers—how did the strange invisibility work when we flew, while I could still see the others near me? Was it true invisibility, even? Or just some type of chameleon-like effect? Either way, I was thankful because I could already see people walking and driving not far below us. We threw shadows, but the people were too distracted to notice.

  Finally, I spotted the house’s number, painted against the curb for emergency crews to find at night. I swooped down and landed on the top of the mansion like a bug, my palms instantly burning against the red Spanish-style roof. I winced and stood up straight as the others fell to a stop beside me.