Micah jerked out of my grip. “With all due respect, I don’t want anything to do with you.” He gave me the keys to the car. “Don’t forget to ditch it after a couple of days. Police might not be worried about a car theft right now, but I’m sure if you’re caught, you’ll be in trouble.”
“What?” I glanced at the keys in my hand. “Where are you going?”
“I’m out.”
He turned and walked away. Rok jumped up from the branch and flew after him.
“Mitrus!” Victor shouted. “Mitrus, come back here. We have to stick together!” He sighed when Micah disappeared into the shadows of the trees. “It’s the only way we’re winning this.”
With my jaw hanging open, I watched as Micah walked away from me once more. The weight in my heart dragged me down.
“See?” Ceris smiled. “I knew he would walk out on us.”
Victor glared at her. “You said you disagreed with me, that we shouldn’t stay together.” He gestured in Micah’s direction. “There you have it.”
“It isn’t my fault,” she responded. “We don’t need his help. We can do this, the two of us.”
Victor shook his head. “No, we need everyone. You know that.”
Was he suggesting everyone as in me too? As nice as saving the world sounded, I couldn’t stay with Victor and Ceris. I would pull my hair out and scream until I was out of air and passed out. No way.
Besides, what could I do? Heal them, yes, but nothing else. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t sense auras. I wasn’t part of their creed, and my visions were gone. They didn’t need me.
I turned to the car. “I’m out too.”
“What?” Victor approached me. “Why?”
Ceris sneered. “I knew she was weak.”
Three months of anger and frustration and deception surged into me, and I exploded.
“Weak?” I glared at her. “You threw me into hell and watched as I struggled. I—”
“I didn’t just watch. I was there. I helped.”
“You lied. You deceived me. If you stop and think about it, you’re not much better than Imha.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to Imha,” she snarled.
“It’s true,” I said, looking into her eyes.
She advanced a step, but Victor rested a hand on her arm. “Don’t, Ceris. You’re not helping.”
Ceris jerked her arm from his touch. “Are you defending her?”
Victor sighed. “I’m not defending anyone.”
“It doesn’t look like it. From where I’m standing, you’re on her side.”
“I’m on everyone’s side.”
Tuning them out, I marched to the other side of the car and opened the driver’s door. “Raisa, Keisha, are you coming?”
Raisa rushed to the car without sparing a second.
Keisha looked lost for a moment. “Yes.”
We entered the car, and Victor held my door before I could close it.
“You need to help us.”
I sighed. “I know. But you have made it three months without me. You can make it another three. I’m sure you can find me when you need my healing again.”
I closed the door, turned on the engine, and backed the car out of the clearing.
Once we were back on the road, Keisha turned to me. “What the hell was all that?”
The drive to Pittsburgh lasted a little over three hours with no incidents.
The only problem was Keisha and Raisa asking me about things I wasn’t sure I should talk about.
“You’re not gonna answer any of our questions?” Keisha asked.
We crossed the Welcome to Pittsburgh sign on the interstate. It was broken and rusty and hanging precariously from a bent metal post. The city was still here, but in much worse shape than New York City had been before the attack. Half of it had been sacked and destroyed. The rest looked like a prison in decay.
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Humor me. After all I saw, you can’t expect me to be surprised by much.”
I laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. Tell me.”
I watched her. Why not? Soon the world would be at war, and by now, everyone probably knew what had happened to New York, who attacked the city. The creed wouldn’t be able to hide for much longer.
After confirming that Raisa was sleeping on the backseat, I took a deep breath and blurted it out. “Micah is also called Mitrus. Victor is also called Levi. Ceris is … just Ceris. The man we saw in New York is named Omi, and he works with a woman called Imha. They are gods, all of them. Their creed is called The Everlasting Circle. Thirty years ago Imha set up Mitrus to turn against Levi. She was experimenting. She wanted to see if she could kill a god. It turns out they can die. Mitrus killed Levi; however, Levi also killed Mitrus. Without all the gods, the world was thrown out of balance, and that’s why we have been living in darkness and danger and destruction. What nobody expected was, six years later, they were reborn as humans. Victor and Micah. Three months ago, Victor and Micah found out they are gods trapped in human bodies, and they need to become full gods again to restore the world to what it was before the darkness.”
I glanced at her.
“So … they are gods? Real, honest to goodness gods?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she watched me with attention. “All right. Give me a minute.”
I nodded, expecting her to take way more than a minute.
“Wait,” she said, after fifteen seconds. “Raisa mentioned a Victor earlier. That Victor? You’re telling me you had something with a god?”
“Hmm, after everything I told you, this is what you ask first?” I glanced at her, and she shrugged. “Yes, that Victor. At the time, he and I didn’t know he was a god.”
“Okay, now I’ll need another minute.”
I shook my head, wondering about her logic.
Before her minute was over, we arrived at a barrier of soldiers standing at the road.
“Shit,” I muttered, bringing the car to a stop in front of them. Keisha turned around, making sure the weapons were on the floor of the backseat, and shook Raisa awake.
Two soldiers, holding rifles, came to my window. I pressed the button and slid the glass down.
“What’s your business in Pittsburgh, miss?” one of them asked. The embroidery on his chest read Wilson.
“We want to get to the train station,” I said.
“For?”
I frowned. “We are survivors from the New York attack. We just want to get to the train to go home.”
“Survivors from the New York attack?” the other one asked, clearly surprised. His name was Flores, according to the embroidery on his uniform. He pulled his radio. “Sir, we have survivors from the New York attack at the southeast barrier.”
“Let them in,” a sharp voice said through the radio. “I’m on my way.”
Wilson tapped the top of the car. “Go in, and stop your car by the large tent over there.” He pointed to our right, but I couldn’t see any large tents from here. “Let them in!” he shouted.
The soldiers forming the barrier stepped aside, and I drove in slowly. Now I could see the tent a few yards away.
“What now?” Raisa asked, yawning.
“They will probably want to know what happened,” Keisha said.
“I know.”
“What will we say?” Raisa asked.
“That we didn’t see much? We saw a few figures assaulting the city, and everything was burning but we escaped.”
“And how did we escape?” Raisa yawned again.
I parked the car before the big white tent. “With the car?”
“They won’t believe us.”
“Even if we tell the truth, they won’t believe us.” From the mirrors, I saw Wilson and Flores walking up to us. “Just play up being nervous and shaken.”
They nodded, and we exited the car as an older man stepped out of the tent.
“I’m General Andr
ews,” he said, halting in front of us. “What are your names?”
“I’m Nadine, and these are my friends, Raisa and Keisha.”
“How did you escape New York?” the general asked.
We told them what we had rehearsed. It was far from being a confident lie, but it was all we had. The nervous and shaken thing was working, especially for Raisa.
“They said they want to get to the train station, sir,” Wilson said.
“Yes, yes,” General Andrews said. “How about you clean up first? We have an infirmary close by. The nurses can take care of your wounds, and I think they have clean clothes too.”
“That would be great, actually,” I said, relieved he wouldn’t grill us to find out more.
“Wilson, accompany them. Make sure they are taken care of, and then take them to the train station. Come back once their trains have departed.”
“Yes, sir.” Wilson saluted before exiting the tent with us.
In the end, we left the car and the weapons there and drove with Wilson in a SUV to the infirmary. There, the nurses treated our wounds, let us shower in warm water, gave us clean clothes and tasty food. For those precious minutes, I almost believed we were in heaven.
After we were taken care of, Wilson drove us to the train station.
“Did you see what attacked New York?” he asked once we were on the road.
The “what” didn’t escape me. “It was all a blur,” I said before the girls could. I was seated in the passenger seat, and the girls were in the back. “Everyone was running and screaming. We were lucky to find the car and escape.”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “With the reports we received from there, you were lucky indeed.”
I remained quiet, and thank goodness, he took the hint and didn’t ask more questions.
The security was heavy at the train station, but Wilson made it easy for us. He got a ticket to Chicago for Keisha, one to Richmond for Raisa, and one to Minneapolis for me.
Keisha’s train left before ours. We walked to her platform, and when we stopped beside it she pulled me into a hug.
“I didn’t think you were a hugger,” I teased.
“I’m not. I just want to talk to you,” she whispered. “What happens now? I’m supposed to just go back to my life and pretend those gods weren’t talking about my aura and that somehow I’m supposed to be involved in whatever this is?”
“I think so,” I whispered back. “If you’re really supposed to be involved, don’t worry. The gods can find you.”
“That sounds crazy,” she whispered, before stepping back. “All right. Take care.”
“You too.”
She patted Raisa’s shoulder, thanked Wilson, and hopped on the train. As soon as it left, Wilson walked us to Raisa’s train. This time, the hug I got was real and tight.
“I can’t believe we just went through that,” Raisa said, stifling a sob.
“Me neither, but we made it. We got through. And you’ll be all right, okay?” I kissed her cheek. “Be careful.”
“You too.” She pulled back, wiping her tears. “And please, keep in touch.”
“I will.”
With uncertain steps, she hopped on the train.
“Your turn,” Wilson said, steering me to the other terminal.
“Thanks,” I said, when we stopped beside my train.
“Good luck out there.”
I nodded and entered the train. I couldn’t believe I was actually going home, but I had to. I had to see my family and grab some of my things, the few things I had left behind when I had moved to New York, before leaving them again. I couldn’t risk staying too long with them, though I had no idea where to go.
I reclined in my seat and sighed. That was a problem for another time. Now, I needed to relax a bit and be thankful for making it out of another battle alive.
The train moved, and I watched as the streets and buildings disappeared, giving way to the dark and dead countryside.
Outside my window, a raven followed the train.
8
The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building my parents had moved to after the farm closed about two months ago. I didn’t know this new place yet, but goose bumps chilled the skin on my arms when I stepped onto the snow-covered sidewalk.
The building was downtown in one of the small towns around Minneapolis. It was four floors high, the balconies were gone as if they had just fallen off, the paint was peeling, and there was a metal security door over the wooden one, both looked old and weak. I bet I could punch and break them.
Holding my coat tighter with one hand, I rang the buzzer but nobody answered. Instead my mother showed up at the door with a huge smile.
“Nadine!” She unlocked the three thousand bolts on the metal door and pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Lord, it’s so good to see you.” Her smile turned into a sob. “I thought … I thought you had gotten stuck there. I thought I had lost you.”
I rubbed her back. It was good to see her after so long, after what happened. “I got away, and I’m here now.” I wasn’t sure for how long though.
She pulled back and looked at me. She probably thought I was too thin, with not enough clothes on in this cold, and other things every mom thought. But she didn’t say them aloud. As I didn’t say how she had lost weight, how her once full and long brown hair looked dry and thin, how her skin was pale, and how her bright green eyes had lost their usual energetic shine.
She patted my cheek before taking my hand and guiding me inside the building. The hallway was as bad as the outside. She led me past the stairs, into a short corridor on the first floor, and pushed open the last door.
“Home, sweet home,” she said in an uncomfortable voice.
The place was tiny. Too tiny. The orange fabric of the couch and the armchair was ripped and faint, as if it were fifty years old. Scratches covered the wooden center table. Worn patches stamped the brown rug. The floor looked like a second-hand toy land. It was a tiny, chaotic, falling-into-pieces place. There were three doors, besides the one we had just entered. One led to a patio, a second led to the kitchen, and the third led to a hallway.
A pang ran through my heart. Oh my God, it was worse than their previous house.
“Where’s everyone?”
She grabbed my tote and turned to the hallway. “The kids are at school. They should arrive in about two hours, and your father is doing some job, I don’t know where. I can’t keep track of all he does.”
I followed her into the hallway, noticing there were only two bedrooms and one bathroom.
“Sorry. We’re going to have to rearrange.” She entered a bedroom with a bunk bed that clearly couldn’t hold the weight of a cat, a twin bed in the corner, and a dresser squeezed between the beds. That was it. There was barely room between the furniture to turn around.
My parents’ bedroom was across the hall, and it was worse. The queen mattress was on the floor against a moldy wall. Their clothes were folded on the floor, against another moldy wall. And once more, there was no space to turn around.
It was horrible. This whole place was horrible.
“I know it’s not much, but after the farm was gone, we weren’t left with much,” she said, her voice low, embarrassed. “I’m sure things will get better though. Your father is working a lot, and I’m trying to find some other work instead of babysitting. We’ll be fine eventually.”
I didn’t know what to say. If she had told me things were this bad, I would have sent more money. I would have abstained from the black coffees I bought everyday. I would have eaten a little less and not bought so many books. I would have taken fewer classes and worked more hours. I would have done something. Anything.
Mom pushed me inside the bedroom my siblings shared. “Why don’t you rest for a while? I’m sure you’re tired, and once Nicole, Teddie, and Tommy get home, they won’t leave you alone, so you better take advantage now.”
There was so much I needed to do, think about, to decide, but I was
tired after spending the entire night on a train, and then the taxi ride from Minneapolis to here. I could use a little sleep.
I nodded, and she offered me a smile before closing the door.
I looked around, but there was nothing else to see. My chest ached for them. Oh God, this was a terrible way to live, and the fact that I couldn’t help anymore hurt too much.
I sat on the twin bed, feeling exhausted and miserable.
I had no idea if my things had been brought from the previous house to this apartment, and anything else I had of any value had been burned in New York City. The only thing I still had was my tote with a few books and my wallet with my bank card. I had a little money in my account I could give my mom, but that wouldn’t help long term. She would be able to buy groceries for this month, and maybe a change of clothes for each of my siblings, but that was it. Nothing more.
The tears came without warning, and I let them fall. I was tired of trying to be strong—and failing. My life as I knew it was gone: my scholarship was gone, my job was gone, my colleagues and classmates were gone. At least Raisa had gotten out. But everything else was gone. Not to mention the precarious conditions my family was living in, and the fact that my perfect plan to save them was gone.
I lay down on the bed, hugging Nicole’s pink pillow and savoring her sweet baby scent.
I had to be strong for them. I had to fight for them, but right now I just needed to get this terrible feeling of helplessness out of my system.
“Are you done with that?” my mother asked.
“Almost.” I chopped the last onion and passed the cutting board to her. “Done.”
She took it and dumped the chopped onion inside the pot on the stove. She mixed the contents with a wooden spoon and reduced the heat. “Should be ready in twenty minutes,” she said, putting the lid over the pot.
I turned around the kitchen, almost hitting my elbow on a cabinet. Everything was tiny in this place. Everything. Even the fridge looked more like a compact refrigerator than what it was supposed to be.
I sighed, trying not to think about that. “What else can I help with?”
Soul Oath Page 7
