The Daybreak Bond

by Megan Frazer Blakemore

  “So what do you suggest we do?” Amnah asked her.

  “Step one, push this car onto the shoulder. Step two, head into the woods and start walking east.” She looked right at Amnah as she spoke. Amnah didn’t respond, but she was able to hold Ilana’s stare. Ilana turned away first and shut the trunk. She probably could have pushed the car all by herself, but I didn’t want the outsiders to know that, so I stood beside her, and Theo came and stood on the other side of me, and together we pushed against the rear bumper of the car.

  It was actually pretty satisfying when it gained momentum and slipped onto the soft shoulder. It came to an easy stop, like a paper airplane landing on a rug.

  “My uncle is going to flip!” Tommy said, but the merriment was back in his eyes. “May the road rise up to meet us,” he said. “And the wind be at our back.”

  “It is getting pretty late,” I said. “What if we go into the woods and find a place to sleep, and then go at it in the morning?”

  “We’ve been gone all day. Everyone will be out looking for us,” Theo said.

  “Maybe. But I’m just so tired, Theo.”

  “Me too,” Ilana said. “To the bone.”

  Theo agreed. “Let’s find a good place to sit down, eat something, and then sleep for at least a few hours. Maybe we’ll think of a way to fix the car or to find another vehicle. If not, we’ll have to walk, and for that we’ll need to rest.”

  I turned to Tommy, Mouse, and Amnah. “If you want to call someone to come get you or something, we’d understand.”

  “Yeah, about that calling. Mouse and Amnah aren’t allowed to have phones and mine has been, well, let’s just say its integrity has been compromised.”

  “He dropped it in the toilet,” Amnah said.

  “And flushed,” Mouse added.

  “To be fair, it was a particularly powerful flush. Anyway, in for a penny, in for a pound, my uncle always says.”

  Amnah looked over at Mouse. “We could probably hitch a ride home.”

  Mouse just shook her head.

  “I figured as much,” Amnah replied.

  “Great!” Tommy said. “So we will be camping out in the woods with you tonight. You’re actually lucky because I brought some beef jerky and I’m thinking I could make some soup out of it.”

  Ilana went into the woods first, her back disappearing between the branches of two trees. Tommy followed, still talking about the beef jerky soup. Mouse and Amnah followed, so it was just me and Theo.

  “We’ll get there,” he said.

  “I know,” I agreed. “We have to.”

  The clearing we found was a lot like Oakedge. There was even a big, split oak, and Ilana and I climbed up into it. We turned our backs away from the others and looked out into the woods. The quiet helped me to forget about the chaos of the day, but I still felt a little unsteady, like the world was rushing by while I stood still.

  “I’m glad we have a little more time,” I said.

  She ran her hand against the rough bark. “What do you think’s going to happen once I’m with Dr. Varden? I mean, assuming she’ll even have me.”

  “She will,” I told her. “She’ll keep you safe.”

  Ilana leaned against the trunk. “Safe out here.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said.

  “And you’ll be back in Old Harmonie.”

  I tilted my head back. Farther up in the tree, a bird perched on a branch and looked down at us. It was a magnolia warbler, but it didn’t trill out a warning. It just watched us with interest.

  “You will, won’t you?” Ilana prompted.

  “If they let us back in,” I said.

  “Of course they will.”

  “How can you be so sure? We’ve been out here, exposed to who knows what—”

  “That’s your fear clouding your judgment,” she said.

  I turned to look at her. Her face was soft in the fading light. “What do you mean?”

  “Out here, it isn’t so bad as we thought. They’ll disinfect you, of course, and run some tests, but you’ll be fine. And you’ll go back to your house on Firefly Lane. All of you will—you and Benji and Theo and Julia, all fixed up. And at first you’ll talk about this all the time. About how you went outside the fences.” The wind blew through the tree and tousled Ilana’s hair. She kept talking. “But after a while, you’ll talk about it less. And then maybe you won’t talk about it at all. Once you stop talking about it, you won’t think about it so much. And all of it will start to fade.”

  My chest tightened as she spoke. “It won’t be like that,” I told her.

  “It will,” she said. “And that’s okay. Everything fades.”

  “Ilana.”

  “Really. Tell me one thing you remember from being two.”

  “I don’t—” I began. I tried to remember something, anything. All I could pull up was the feeling of a doll’s cool plastic skin against my own. “There’s nothing really substantial, but I was still pretty much a baby then.”

  “It’s not that you couldn’t remember things then, though. Memories just get squeezed out of the way to make new ones.”

  “Unless that’s your latency. Then you remember everything.”

  “No one really wants to remember everything.”

  “I do,” I said.

  The warbler finally decided to make a sound then, letting out a low, sorrowful trill of notes.

  “No, you don’t,” Ilana said with such certainty, it felt like she was sucking all the air out of me.

  “I want to remember you,” I told her.

  The bird sang some more. The notes fell on top of us. Ilana held herself so still, I wasn’t sure she was even breathing. But then her hand reached out and held on to mine. Her palm was warm and her fingers laced between my own. My breathing stilled and fell in time with hers.

  “I will remember you,” I promised. “Always.”

  15

  Tommy sat on a rock and unpacked the pack he wore around his waist. He pulled out a super bounce ball, a deck of cards, and the promised beef jerky. He dug around a little more, muttering to himself. Theo and Ilana gathered sticks and dry leaves. Theo had brought a laser flick, and he got the fire going. I was glad for that—the sun was already starting to set. Tommy kept pulling things out of his bag: a spool of clear string, a flat rock, and then something black and small but heavy-looking. Tommy pushed a button and a blade swung open. I rocked back. “Is that a knife?”

  “Utility knife, yeah.” He used the blade to cut open the bag of beef jerky. “Well, it’s not just a knife. It’s a multi-tool. See?” He started pushing and pulling and revealed a second, smaller blade as well as a screwdriver, a file, a pair of tweezers, and a corkscrew. “I’ve never used the corkscrew,” he admitted as he held the tool out to me.

  Theo eyed him, and it, warily. Theo would never let me hold his knife, I felt certain of that. I let Tommy’s fall into my hand. It was lighter than it looked.

  “Cool, right? It’s made with super-light, super-strong metal. Can’t break it, but barely feel it.”

  I touched the tip of the smaller blade. It pressed into my skin, but didn’t break it.

  “Mori,” Theo whispered.

  Tommy reached over, put his hand on top of mine. He carefully closed the two blades. “The edges are wicked sharp. I once cut through a tin can.”

  Snap!

  I turned my head sharply. Amnah snapped a branch over her knee.

  “Oh!” I cried out.

  Something warm and wet oozed on my palm. Blood.

  Ilana was beside me in a second. “What happened?” she asked.

  “What did you do to her?” Theo demanded of Tommy.

  Tommy stood up. “I didn’t do anything!”

  I uncurled my hand. There was a small hole in the center of my palm. Hot blood trickled out. “I did it myself,” I told them. “I was startled. I squeezed my hand.”

  Snap! I jumped again.

  Theo turned his anger toward Amnah now.
“Do you have to do that there?”

  “It’s okay, Theo,” I said. “I’m fine. I just need a bandage. You got one of those in your bag, Tommy?” I forced a smile.

  Tommy smiled back. “I think so. Hold on.” After a moment of digging, he held out a wrapped bandage. Theo snatched it from his hand.

  “We should clean the wound first,” Ilana said. She opened a water bottle and dumped it over my hand. I bit the inside of my cheek. “Okay?” she asked.

  “Uh-huh.” I didn’t want to tell her how much it stung.

  Theo stuck the bandage onto my palm, pressing the tape against my skin with firm but gentle pressure.

  “Take this, too,” Tommy said. He handed Theo a roll of gauze.

  “I don’t need that,” I said.

  “It’s to keep it clean and keep the bandage on.” Theo wrapped it around my hand three times, then used his knife to cut the end—the same knife he’d used to cut our watchus off. Had that only been the night before? He tied it with a square knot. “Good as new.”

  I closed my hand into a fist and then opened it again.

  “You’re a warrior, Mori,” Ilana told me.

  “Wicked tough,” Tommy agreed.

  “Yeah, the kind of warrior who stabs herself with a corkscrew,” I said. “Wicked stupid is more like it.”

  “We’re gonna need more wood,” Amnah said. “I don’t want to frighten you little baby bears anymore, so I’ll go out into the forest and get some.”

  Mouse pursed her lips and poked at the small fire.

  Little baby bears. Mouse was Mouse, but that was a term of endearment. Mice could be clever. Mice got things done. But baby bears? They bumbled around and made a mess of things and hid from things that shouldn’t make them cower. That was me. Weak and needy and foolish enough to let my best friend get bitten by a wild dog, to not know the first thing about running away, to stab myself because I get startled by every small noise.

  It was that last one that stung the most. It was like Amnah had found my sorest spot and pressed it. There was a time when a loud noise would not have made me jump like that. I might not have even noticed. Or maybe I would have liked it. I couldn’t remember what it felt like before my parents dampened my bravery and made me scared and skittish. Hot anger pulsed through my veins and right to my wound. I half expected the blood to come spurting out like some sort of geyser.

  “I’ll go,” I said.

  “What?” Theo and Tommy said at the same time.

  Even Tommy knew I was a wimp.

  “I said I’ll go. I know more about the woods than any of us. Right, Ilana?”

  Ilana nodded, but her brow was furrowed.

  “Okay, then,” Theo said. He stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans.

  “Amnah and I will be fine on our own,” I said.

  “Mori, I don’t think—”

  “Are we going or what?” Amnah asked. “I don’t care who all comes, but we need to get this done before it gets any darker.”

  “Let’s go,” I told her. Then, to Theo, “We’ll be back soon.”

  Amnah’s steps were heavy and I followed her clomping while my eyes adjusted to the darkness away from the fire. My glasses gave a comforting whirr and I could see easily. Then Amnah’s pace slowed and her footfalls came more quietly. I stayed a couple of steps behind and didn’t say anything. Mostly, I watched her feet, which she placed carefully to avoid snapping sticks or scattering pinecones. She seemed like she spent a lot of time in the woods, though I wondered how in that paved-over neighborhood. Maybe she was one for slipping outside of fences, something I had never been brave enough to do.

  “I’m surprised he let you go,” she said as she came up along an old birch. The white bark peeled off its trunk in wide swirls that would burn easily. But peeling the bark off would kill the tree, something I’d never be willing to do.

  “He doesn’t decide for me.”

  Amnah just raised her eyebrows.

  We kept walking up the incline, away from our friends. “It’s not like Tommy makes all the decisions for you,” I added.

  At that, she harrumphed. “Tommy’s not in charge.”

  The path split in two. Amnah didn’t even hesitate: she bore right and I followed her. The ground up here was more thickly covered with pine needles. I thought we should go in search of oaks, which might be a little drier.

  “What about Mouse?” I asked.

  “What about her?” Amnah said, her voice icy again.

  “You look out for her. I mean, I can’t even ask about her without you getting all agitated.”

  “She’s my sister,” Amnah said. “Come on, there’s nothing up here. Let’s cut down this way.” I followed her back toward our original trail. Our feet crunched over the ground. “The thing about Mouse is, she’s got all sorts of strength, it’s just not the kind you see easily.”

  I wondered if I had that kind of strength. The hidden kind, deep in me, like a latency ready to be set free. “So why do you need to protect her?”

  “There’s all kinds of strength. She might not stand up for herself, but she’ll fight for the people she loves and what she believes in. She’s not raising her hand and calling out all the answers, but she understands better than anyone. I just step in when someone tries to take advantage of her. When she needs me.”

  “We’re like that, too. We’re all different and we all look out for one another in our own ways.” I didn’t tell her why, that once we knew the truth about Ilana and Krita and what they wanted to do to her, we had to rely on each other.

  “But it just seems like he’s extra protective of you. Like he values your life more than his.”

  “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?” I asked. “That’s why we’re out here in the first place.”

  “That’s why you’re out here.”

  “And you’re out here for Mouse. And probably Tommy, though you won’t ever admit it.”

  She pushed on a dead-looking tree, but it didn’t move. “Yeah. Maybe. That kid needs looking after. You haven’t even known him six hours and look at the problems he’s caused.”

  “Does she like it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like when you talk for her. Does she ever tell you not to do it? Or do you ever think that maybe if you didn’t step up, she would?”

  “I’m not babying her.”

  “I didn’t say that.” I wasn’t sure whether I was talking about Mouse and Amnah or my friends and me. Maybe my parents weren’t the only ones to blame for my lack of bravery. Whenever something risky came up, one of my friends was there to try to stop me. I rubbed my arm.

  “What is it now?”

  “Nothing.” The truth was I felt ill thinking of the day that Ilana had grabbed my arm and squeezed so hard to keep me from going into number 9. I could still see that look in her eyes, cold and scared and determined. But it wasn’t just Ilana. Theo hadn’t wanted me to look at Tommy’s multi-tool, let alone touch it. All of them had kept me out of number 9 for years.

  “What does it feel like? When you’re worried about her, how does that feel?” I tugged on the gauze around my bandage to tighten it.

  “You don’t know what it feels like to worry about someone?”

  “No, of course I do. That’s why we’re out here, after all. I just want to know how it feels to you.”

  Amnah looked annoyed by the question, but then she said, “It makes me queasy. And angry at whoever might hurt her. Rage, actually. And I just want to lift her up and put her somewhere safer.”

  “I get that,” I said. “When I found out what they wanted to do with Ilana—I mean, when I found out the trouble she was in, I started to sweat. But I was cold, too, you know?”

  “Exactly,” she said.

  “You think that’s how Theo feels about me?” Theo never looked queasy when he was stepping up to help me, he looked angry or tired or sad. Was that the same thing?

  “Listen, I was just making an observation. I didn’t exp
ect the third degree.” She pointed into the underbrush. “There’s something there.” She bent over and tugged out first one, then another long beech tree limb. It looked like a storm had come through and ripped them from the tree. The ends were jagged like a quiver of arrows with the points sticking out.

  “We could carry them together,” she said.

  I knew they would burn easily if we could figure out a way to chop them into smaller pieces. I thought I should ask her if there was an ax in the car, or if there was something else we could use, but her face was as closed as the shutters on the common house at night. So all I said was, “Okay.”

  We each squatted down and took one limb in each hand. We walked like we were carrying a stretcher, which of course made me think of Julia. By now they should have brought her to the hospital. They might even have her back at Old Harmonie, safe in one of our clinics. I looked left, then right, but realized I wasn’t sure where I was in relationship to Old Harmonie. I didn’t know where home was. It was an unsettling feeling, like walking on the deck of a ship in a storm, and I wondered if it would ever feel steady again.

  I told myself that Julia was just fine. That they had patched up her leg and shot her full of antibiotics. She was probably sleeping or, if she was really lucky, watching a Zane and River show on television. She could milk this injury for all it was worth.

  I did not let myself imagine them interrogating her and Benji about where the rest of us were. I didn’t let myself imagine the angry, scared faces of our parents.

  Or, at least, I tried not to.

  My toe stubbed against a rock and I cursed under my breath. The limbs hadn’t seemed so heavy when we started, but now I said, “I need a break.”

  She didn’t answer, but she stopped walking and put down her ends of the tree limbs. I wished I’d brought a water bottle. Instead I rubbed my sore hand on my jeans and tried to imagine that my mouth wasn’t dry.

  “It’s not too much farther, right?” I asked. “I can probably go again.”

  “Right down there.”

  “I thought it was to the left,” I replied. My chest tightened. I was certain that we had come up the path from that direction—I remembered the way the skinny trees bent over the path—but this was Amnah’s world.