The Way

by Mary E. Twomey

  Griffin leapt over the puddle of muck and slammed into Willyum, knocking the older boy onto his back. Misdirected rage filled Griffin’s fist as it collided with Willyum’s jaw once, twice, and geared up for a third time.

  Blue was blessed with unnatural strength, but a varying degree of that same power was shared between the siblings. Plus, Griffin trained with Baird and Blue every chance he got when Baird lived in The Way, so his fury packed some definite pain.

  “Don’t talk about my sister like that!” Griffin stormed. Even the flies knew to leave him alone in that moment, not one daring to land on him as he gave in to the volatile anger that had been bubbling beneath the surface for days.

  “Griffin, leave it alone!” George pleaded, his breath squeezing through gritted teeth as he struggled to pry his friend off of his victim. “Do you want to get a punishment today of all days? What if you get solitary again? You won’t be able to say goodbye to her or see Baird.”

  Griffin’s fist slowed before it could deliver Willyum’s final blow. “This isn’t over,” he warned.

  “It is if I go to the infirmary and report you!” Willyum spat out a mouthful of blood as Clarense helped him up off the ground.

  George sighed. If Griffin wasn’t his best friend, he would have so many more points by now. “Will three points convince you to tell the nurse you fell onto your shovel?” He tapped his barcode reluctantly.

  Griffin snorted, unwilling to give up even one point to make things right.

  Willyum would never have admitted to being taken down by a fifteen-year-old, even if it was a relative of the ominous and infamous Baird. Though Baird had been bought by a Vemreaux years ago for indentured work in the real world, the Waywards still told stories about him in hushed, deferential tones. There were rumors that Marxus was still working on Baird’s orders, though no one knew how they communicated.

  Willyum tried to sound tough. “Make it five points. You know I could get him beaten if I told Supervisor Tum.”

  “Fine.” George shook his head as Griffin stomped off. “Lay off him. He’s losing all he’s got today.”

  Chapter Four

  Violated

  Age of Peace Law 17, Subset 2b

  All emergency personnel should respond to Vemreaux distress calls first. Second, a freed Wayward, and third, an owned Wayward.

  “Is there a problem? You look weird.” Baird spoke with his signature note of annoyance that had not lessened over the years. He shifted the 4x4 to third gear as they exited the main street and traveled down a series of dark and winding side roads.

  “No problem,” Blue answered. “Just nervous. Excited.”

  “Don’t be nervous,” he commanded. “Your job isn’t to feel; it’s to listen. How do you think you’re doing at your job so far?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll do better.”

  Baird grumbled under his breath before continuing with his debriefing, checking off the key points one at a time. “One thing to remember when you’re waiting tables at your owner’s diner is that there’re two sides to the menu. There’s one set of meals for changed Vems and one for unchanged. You’ve never spent time around unchanged Vemreaux before. Tell me how to spot an unchanged.”

  Blue fought with her sass at being asked such a rudimentary question. “Unchanged Vemreaux haven’t bathed in the Fountain of Youth yet, so they age like us. Once they dip, they go through the change.” Obviously. I’m not an idiot. “Their eyes turn black, their bones are harder to break, they stop aging and they have heightened senses, except for their sense of taste, which dulls.”

  “The unchanged can’t smell us,” Baird added. “Only the changed ones with their heightened sense of smell can tell we’re A-blood.”

  Blue rattled off the facts every Wayward knew. “Changed ones have an iron deficiency, so most of them drink filtered O-type blood to keep from being anemic.”

  “I didn’t ask you to tell me everything a five-year-old knows. I asked you how to spot an unchanged.” He tapped his ear. “Listening, remember?”

  “I already answered how to spot an unchanged Vem!”

  “Then what’s with all the extra chatter?”

  Blue crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “You’re meaner than I remembered.”

  “Then you’ll have to work on your listening and your memory.”

  Blue groaned. “So the moral of your boring story is?”

  “When Elle and –” Baird began.

  Blue interrupted by snoring loudly.

  “You wanna survive out here, or not?”

  “I don’t know. How much more of this story’s left?”

  Baird scowled at his sister. “Shut up, Blue.” He could not remember when he’d permitted her to mock him, but somewhere in her teens, she’d come into her moxie. It was annoying, but at times, he secretly found it amusing. Baird palmed the crown of his sister’s head and shoved her to the side, earning a punch to his arm. “When Elle and Grettel lived in The Way, you would wear their dirty jumpsuit from the day before. That way you’d have the sulfuric A-blood scent on you so the Vemreaux monitoring us wouldn’t catch on you were weird and didn’t smell like a normal Wayward. You’ll have to do the same thing in the real world.”

  “I figured.”

  “You wanna run this conversation?”

  “No, Baird. Go ahead.” Tell me more things I already know, Blue thought bitterly.

  “Be yourself at home, but out of the hut, you have to stay under people’s radar until you find your calling. Let Elle be the thing that draws their eyes, just like in The Way. She looks more like a Femreaux anyway, carries herself prouder than a Wayward. Fem is slang for a female Vemreaux, by the way.”

  “Then why’d you have Master Joe buy me as a waitress instead of a cook or something? Won’t that make me more visible?”

  Baird’s teeth ground together. “The correct answer is: thank you, Baird. Thank you for getting me out of The Way before I turned sixty and got terminated at life expectancy.”

  “Thank you, Baird. Blah, blah, blah, life expectancy.”

  Baird’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, but he did not address her back-talk. He’d been looking forward to having her out in the real world with him for a long time, and didn’t want to ruin it with a fight right away. “Joe needed a waitress, and I have no idea how long it’ll be before he asks me to find him another slave. I saw the opportunity and took it. I’m warning you that even though you’ll be taking their orders, you’ll have to do your best to stay out of their way. Hide your eyes, walk around like Grettel, and you know, be forgettable.”

  No trouble with that one, Blue sighed inwardly. “Okay.”

  The amazing assortment of cars, buildings, people and nature that blurred by them was so incredible, Blue scarcely had room in her brain to process it all. It was two in the morning as they drove to her new home, but her keen eyes picked out details in the black that no one else could. Each new object she saw was catalogued in her brain, with a name and purpose to be assigned later. The grin on her face would not move, no matter that it announced a blatant emotion to the world…the real world. The free world.

  I’m never going back to The Way. I’m in the real world now! I’m not gonna die in The Way! Blue tried her best to keep the excited smile hidden, lest her brother find fault with it. No more cleaning up the cows’ scratch. No more beatings. The real world! I made it!

  As she took in the stark difference from the sameness of The Way, her grin settled into a contemplative expression. “Baird? Do you sometimes wish that A-bloods reacted to the Fountain of Youth, too? Kinda sucks that the real world is only for the B-blood Vems to enjoy. Everything’s so pretty out here. These buildings? Amazing! Like, how’d they build them so high? Could you take me to see some of them up close once I get settled?”

  Baird’s response was quick and harsh. “You know I don’t waste my time on wishes. You shouldn’t, either.” He looked out the window before making a turn. The 4x4 vehicle Master Joe pr
ovided for them had no side mirrors, or even a rearview mirror, for that matter. “You’d be surprised what a curse that Fountain is. After you meet a few of the changed Vems that aren’t worth the scratch their world’s built on, you’ll understand what I mean.” He glanced over at his sister. “Unclench your fists. You’ll get used to riding in a car eventually.”

  “Eventually,” Blue repeated, trying to stifle her happiness so as not to annoy Baird. The car ride was a brand new experience, and she didn’t care that it nearly made her sick. She had been fighting down the bile since the first turn. Her brother’s silent scrutiny for over an hour had not helped matters much.

  Baird cleared his throat as the car turned left around the corner leading to their home. “I’m surprised they finally got all the paperwork together to sell you. I’ve been back to The Way three times this week, and each time, your Vemreaux Studies professor had another excuse why my master couldn’t buy you.”

  “Jack’s thorough.”

  “Jack’s an idiot.”

  “He’s nice to me and Griff. He was nice to you, too, if you recall.”

  “Not right for a professor to care that much about us. Unnaturally friendly only to the three of us? Something’s wrong with him.”

  “Curse Jack for being friendly!” Blue shouted with her fist in the air, unable to contain her bliss any longer. She directed her grin at her brother, and for a moment, she forgot that she was trying not to anger him. “Welp, nothing you can do about it now. We’re on the outside. No way you can make him ‘disappear’ from out here.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Baird mumbled. “Don’t be so cocky, either. I’m allowed to have suspicions.”

  “And I’m allowed to have friends,” she challenged him, fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at her brother.

  “You know, a smart mouth like that makes me wonder why I was so anxious to get you outta there.” Elle had warned him about being too harsh with Blue on her first day out in the real world. It was the fifteenth item on her verbal list of things he needed to be sensitive to on Blue’s inaugural day of indentured freedom.

  “Were you anxious because you worry about my safety among all those mean ole’ Waywards?” Blue feigned fear for his entertainment.

  “Maybe about their safety, sure.” Baird gave her a shove when she kept up the theatrics, resting the back of her dainty hand on her forehead.

  “Aw! Someone pickin’ on you, Baird? You need me to beat up a bully for you?” She reached over to place her hand on his arm, laughing when he batted it away.

  “Shut up.”

  “Is it because you missed me something terrible?” she joked. When Baird swallowed instead of fighting with her, Blue took that as confirmation. Her delight beamed, and she did not care anymore if he saw it.

  “I just feel better when I can keep my eye on you. Know you’re staying out of trouble.”

  Blue met her brother’s eye, and they shared a smile that communicated the things they were unwilling to say. “I missed you, too, Baird.”

  “The girls’ve been really…” He squinted, focusing on a point at the end of the road with sudden fury. A swelling of rage, anger and violence all fought for first place on his face as he roared a filthy curse.

  A simple shack with four cement walls and a sunken-in roof stood with determination as the only house on the dark, dead-end road. A bright green vehicle with obnoxious fire decals on the side was parked on the grass in a way that conveyed disrespect for the humble property.

  Baird sucked his lower lip to his teeth in thought.

  Blue recognized this as Baird’s planning face, and readied herself for action.

  “How much muscle mass have you lost?”

  “None!” Blue was affronted at the insult.

  “You still as fast as when I left you?”

  “Exactly how you left me.” Maybe better, she thought to herself, though she dared not provoke him by mentioning this aloud. “Baird, what’s going on?”

  “That car belongs to Vemreaux who think we’re easy prey. That pile of sticks is where we live, and they think we don’t deserve even that. They’re robbing us right now.”

  “What about the girls?” Blue leaned forward, ready to jump out of the car at first command. Elle and Grettel were a year older than her, and on Baird’s recommendation, Blue’s new master purchased the two girls as soon as they became of age a year ago. To think of her best friends in danger diminished the beauty of all the lush vegetation, the excitement of riding in a car, and the thousand other amazing new possibilities that just seconds ago enticed her.

  Baird’s hawk-like gaze fell upon the storm cellar. The large rock that usually sat on the doors had been moved from its position. “They’re fine for now.” He steadied himself and turned to his sister. “You can go in there with me and learn how we deal with problems like this, or you can wait out here.”

  Blue was insulted that he would insinuate she was anything less than ready to defend the girls to the death. “Let’s go!” Blue palmed the car door’s handle.

  “Alright.” Baird’s face transformed to a calculating expression he wore when he was about to teach her something unpleasant. “They’re in our home, so we can either phone Master Joe and ask him to call the cops, then wait for them to respond to a Wayward’s distress call, which gets lowest priority…” Baird took a deep breath as he stared at the hut, unblinking.

  “Or?” Blue queried, hoping he had a better option than that. She’d never seen her brother hesitate to do what needed to be done. Even in a foreign scene like the real world, Vemreaux logic didn’t suit him.

  “Or we deal with them ourselves.”

  “Meaning?” she questioned, though she suspected the answer.

  “Remember when you’d get sloppy in The Way and someone would see you doing something…too powerful?” He watched his sister swallow with shame. “Used to be my job to protect your secret. Now it’s our job to protect Elle and Grettel.”

  “So they can see my face?” Blue clenched her fist.

  “They signed their death warrant the second they walked onto Master Joe’s property.”

  “But Baird, I’ve never killed anyone on purpose,” she admitted. “That’s your job.” Suddenly, the car was far too hot. The air thick with gravity and duty. Blue struggled to take in a full breath. Her chest caught with the fear she dared not give voice to.

  “It’s like anything else. Do it enough times and, well, you’ll get the hang of it. Just do what I taught you. Stay in control.” He forced out a small smile of encouragement. “Finally, you’ll get some hands-on training. You won’t have to hold back this time!” When he sensed the dread she would not speak, he fisted the handle and quietly shoved it open, all camaraderie disappearing into the black of the night sky. “Or wait in the car. It’s only a handful of Vemreaux at most. I’ve killed that many before on my own. If you’re not ready to protect the girls yet…”

  Her initiation into the real world was much more than signed papers and a large check to The Way West from a wealthy Vemreaux. Blue swallowed the last of the moisture in her mouth as she willed herself not to be afraid. “I can do it. I’ve just never killed anyone without, you know, blacking out.”

  “I know, but this’ll be good training for you. Just don’t get angry. Focus on a clean takedown. Easier than you think.”

  Baird exited the car, and Blue allowed herself only the briefest of seconds before she followed in her brother’s large, all-consuming footsteps. “Okay, let’s give it a shot.” Her voice was small, but she forced it not to waver. She wasn’t eight anymore; she was nineteen. Fear wasn’t appropriate when she was a child, so there was no excuse for it now.

  As always, Baird had a plan.

  “So how’re we going to play this? Damsel? Giant? Tum’s Rage? I’ve never done Blind Man against more than one person, though.” She ticked off a few more code names they’d used in fights back in The Way.

  “Damsel’s fine. Got any tears in you?”
>
  “Very funny,” she snarled. Each step she took distanced her from the dread that would swallow her, were she to stop and examine it. On she marched, the anxiety chasing at her heels.

  As they approached the hut, the two parted ways. Blue went for the front door, and Baird sneaked around the back. Without her brother’s scrutiny, she permitted her heart to race and the fear to climb up to her chest before she could gulp it down. It clung to her with its vice grip until she shook it off and forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

  “Nothin’ in here’s worth liftin’,” the first man jeered.

  “Don’t know why we even bothered. A-bloods don’t own shit!”

  “Yeah, but this is Joe’s A-blood, Aaron. That bar’s crowded every night. You know Joe’s got money.”

  “Don’t mean he’s sharing it with his slaves.” A loud belch echoed through the thin walls of the shack.

  Blue exhaled out the last of her fear as she listened to their infuriating chatter. She knew that to punch any of them before Baird was in place would be a mistake, but her fingers itched to do the job. Taking a steadying breath, Blue fumbled loudly with the door’s round knob. She flung it open and let out the loudest feminine scream she could muster, hating how stupid she sounded. Taking a page from timid Grettel’s book, she huddled against the wall, shrieking and pretending to sob as best she could. “Help! Help!” she cried, her hands cupping her cherubic cheeks. She could imagine her brother hiding his laughter at the show.

  “Aw, look at the little Wayward, Mosely,” the taller man laughed. “She’s just an itty bitty thing.” Aaron took two steps toward her and leaned down to make sure he dominated her view. “Who do you think’s gonna hear you, A-word-Wayward?”

  Blue almost forgot her feigned fright, pausing her fake crying at the idiotic insult. “Take anything you want! Just don’t hurt me, please!”

  Mosely bent toward her and sniffed, making a face. “Lucky you stink like a rotted egg and scratch, kid. Anything my eyes want, my nose can’t handle.”