“We’ll take care of our own.” Liam reaches over and puts a hand on top of my head affectionately, the way Lucas used to. “You know, I did come out here to comfort you.”
“You did,” I say, looking over at the entrance to the tree house. Talking to him has helped me clarify what I want. It’s made me realize that, no matter what happens to Lucas, I can’t be afraid, either.
“Do you really think Ruby can help Lucas?”
His smile is so warm, so genuine, I find myself returning it. “Of course. My girl? She’s incredible.”
“Mia?” someone calls.
Liam and I both lean over the entrance. Sam is standing below, one hand braced on the old tree’s trunk. She looks as amazed as I felt to find it still standing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Is Lucas…?”
Sam shakes off whatever feeling had gripped her. “Are the notebooks up there?”
“Yeah,” I call back. “I’ll bring them down.”
“Okay, good,” Sam says softly. “Good. Ruby’s ready when we are.”
“I’m ready now,” I tell her, and start the climb down.
It’s fully morning now, eight o’clock; the sun has crept up on us, combing its fingers through the last fading traces of night. I can still smell the smoke as I step through the door. The burnt photo is gone, and all that’s left is a large smudge of black and a gaping hole in the plaster, where the house’s old bones show through. My eyes find Lucas immediately, stretched out across the couch. Ruby is sitting in a chair beside him, one hand over where his hands are resting on his stomach, her eyes closed. Behind me Liam tenses, takes a step toward her, but stops himself and turns to where Vida and Charlie are pulling food out of a bag I saw earlier in the trunk of their big SUV. He never takes his eyes off her, but he lets her work.
It takes Sam and I a few minutes to find the right story in the right notebook—at least, I hope it’s the right story. My blood feels like it’s throbbing inside my veins as Sam passes it over to me and says, “Why don’t you read it?”
I’m clutching the notebook so tightly, I’m afraid it’s going to rip in half. The years have made it delicate, just as they’ve made me stronger.
I glance back. Liam is leaning back against the kitchen island, his arms crossed over his chest. He gives me another one of his smiles, and nods. “Give it a whirl, buddy. What do you have to lose?”
Our last chance, best chance? Because if this doesn’t work…
It will work.
I sit down beside Ruby, trying to mimic how relaxed she seems as I lay the notebook across my lap. There is so much here—witches, princes, storms, curses, knights—and it feels like a secret history of our childhood, the real one that no one could steal. I wonder if I’m betraying him by reading it aloud for everyone else to hear.
“It’s okay,” Sam promises, sitting next to me. Of course she understands.
My chest tightens at the sight of Lucas’s messy handwriting. I clear my throat.
“‘There once was a prince who loved to roam through his kingdom, even though his parents, the king and queen, warned him of all the dangers that lurked in the woods. But he was brave, and he was curious, and he wanted to know not just what was in the trees, but what lay beyond them. So one morning the prince woke early, packed food and a blanket, and he went to see for himself.’”
I look up, but my hope is stomped out a second later when I see that his eyes are still closed, that he’s barely moving at all.
“Keep going,” Sam says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “He hears you. Keep going.”
“‘The prince rode his horse for hours, until he had gone farther than he ever imagined possible. The woods were like a maze, but every now and then a tree would lift its roots from the ground and point them in the direction he was meant to head. The trees would shake down a curtain of leaves if he turned the wrong way. But he soon realized that he should not have listened to them, that they had tricked him, because the path they led him on was treacherous, and at the first shriek of a hawk, his horse threw him. He lay there, hurt, until a woman dressed in robes of white and gold stepped into his path.’”
Still nothing. I don’t need to glance at him to know. Sam’s breathing becomes harsher, pained.
“‘This was no ordinary woman. Her beauty was unearthly, and the trees, the forest, were hers to command. She was the queen of them all, a witch. In revenge for her banishment by the prince’s father, she cast a spell on the prince. His hands became claws, his skin fur, his ears horns, his mouth a snout filled with razor-sharp teeth. The witch laughed and laughed, telling him that he’d never be free—that the only way to reverse the spell was to find the one person brave enough to face him.
“‘The prince ran back through the forest. Brave hunters saw him and ran away. Villagers screamed as he passed by them on the road. And he knew he could not go home, not as he was; so he returned to the forest, to the trees that rustled their leaves in laughter, to the other animals, who fled at the sight of him. He lived in this place for years, alone.’”
I don’t want to cry, but I do. He is not moving. This is not working. I look over at Ruby. Her brows are drawn together, and her hand seems to be shaking. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but she is still working. I need to give her more time.
Keep going.
“‘One day, his friend the stable girl begged to be allowed to look for the prince. As the years passed, stories of the beast in the woods had spread far and wide. Many believed the prince had been devoured by it; even his parents began to mourn him. They told her she would not survive alone in the thick of the trickster trees, that the witch would find her and turn her into stew. But she did not believe them. She wished only to find her friend. So one morning she packed her own food and blanket, and set out to find him.
“‘No sooner had she passed into the woods than she heard the beast’s roar. Her courage failed her, and she wanted to run back out onto the road, but she thought of her friend, how much she missed him, and kept going. Soon she realized the beast wasn’t angry, and his roars weren’t ones of hunger, but of pain. She followed the sound until she saw its hideous body stretched out beside a stream. Its teeth snapped at the air as it whirled toward her, and its roar nearly deafened her. But the girl saw what was wrong. Its foot was caught in an iron trap. Let me help you, she said to him, and to herself, Do not be afraid.
“‘Using all of her strength, she pried open the iron trap and pulled its foot free. The beast did not attack her. It whimpered, its leg bleeding and ruined. So she tore up her blanket into bandages and wrapped it in them. And when the beast still cried, she found herself reaching around it, holding it. And then something extraordinary happened, and at her touch, the beast turned into a lion; but still she did not let go. It became a serpent, but still she did not let go….And at last it became…’” I press my hand to my face, my throat too tight to finish. I need a moment. I need just a second to…breathe…to be brave again….
“‘…a boy.’”
Sam’s fingers dig into my shoulder so hard, it’s the only reason I know I didn’t imagine the voice. She and I both stand, leaning over him, holding each other up.
“You…gotta tell it right, Mia….”
“Luc?” I say, too shocked to move. “Lucas?”
It’s a struggle for him to open his eyes, but he does, looking between us. His forehead wrinkles. “Had…the strangest dream…but you’re both…” He turns to Sam, terror raining down through his expression. “We didn’t make it….”
She takes his hand, presses it against her cheek. “We did. We’re okay now.”
Ruby slips out of her chair, and in the second before her dark hair falls around her face, I see that her cheeks are wet with tears. Liam is there to meet her, to wrap an arm around her shoulders, kiss her forehead, lead her outside. I can see their outlines, the way their two shapes have become one. I don’t know if she is crying for Lucas, if she is as relieved and caught in wonder as we a
re, or if she’s crying for the Red, the one she lost. I think it’s all of these things.
“Mia…Mia.” Lucas’s voice cracks on my name.
“Let me get you some water—some—” I start to rise, shaking. Every one of my senses is overwhelmed.
His arm comes up, pulls me forward as he struggles to sit up. Sam is there to lift him the rest of the way, and suddenly I’m in his arms, and it’s familiar and strange and wonderful and unbelievable. He is here. He’s come back.
“I found you,” he’s saying, over and over, “I found you….”
“We found you,” I inform him. “Well, actually, Sam found both of us.”
“Of course she did.” Lucas chuckles, and I think, That is the best sound. “Still taking care of us, aren’t you, Sunshine?”
Sam closes her eyes, her face pink with the force of holding back her tears. “Always.”
But then he stiffens, tensing with a sharp breath. I look back as Charlie comes up behind us, plates of food in his hands. Vida trails behind him a step, arms full of water bottles. They hang back, but I can read the curiosity in their faces.
“They’re our friends,” I tell him. “And we have a story to tell you.”
I sit beside my brother, in a circle of kids who laugh and talk and joke and even sing; we are sharing food between us, making plans, seeing a future that didn’t exist before.
And I am not surprised, not in the least, when Lucas says suddenly, “I want to help you. With the others.”
The conversation skids into silence. Liam turns to Ruby for her take at the same moment she turns to him. We’ve propped Lucas up against the back of the couch, and every now and then he has to lean his head back onto the cushion, like it’s too heavy to keep upright for long. His features are still sunken, and he has these shadows around his eyes, but I feel the parts of the brother I knew surfacing, bit by bit, as time rolls on around us.
“Lucas,” Ruby begins, “are you sure? There’s a chance this could explode in our faces—Cruz might not let me have access to the Reds, and even if she does, she might insist that you have to stay at the facility with the others.”
I’m grateful she’s giving him the truth, but fear still has the power to electrify my every last nerve, until I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling him no.
“Seriously?” Sam asks, looking between them. “Lucas—”
He gives her a weak smile. “I know I’m still a little pathetic to look at, but I’m willing to take that risk, and I will. You don’t—well, I guess you do understand what they went through,” he says to Ruby. “After seeing all of it, you don’t think I’d want to be there for them on the other side of this? Help them ease back into the world?”
She looks a little sick at that, but nods all the same. “We would appreciate any help—you wouldn’t have to come with us, not if you don’t feel up to it.”
“What if it’s the same facility they kept you in before?” Sam presses. “It could be overwhelming—”
“The difference is, this time I’m myself again,” Lucas says softly. “If the Trainers are gone, it won’t be so bad. I lived there for almost as long as I lived in this house.”
“No,” Sam says sharply, “you shouldn’t have to live through all of that—you shouldn’t have to see it again—”
He reaches over, locking his hand over hers, weaving their fingers together. She quiets, but the panic in her face is as obvious as my own heart thundering in my ears. This is too much. He shouldn’t have to.
“What can’t I face, knowing that in the end, we made it?” Lucas turns back to Ruby, tapping his temple. “Think you can stand poking around in that many minds? It seems like it would be like picking up a thousand splinters of glass.”
She seems surprised by this, as do the others, even Liam. I wonder if they haven’t understood this one key element—facet—of her abilities. That, as powerful as she is, Ruby still is burdened by thoughts and memories and images that don’t belong to her. She relives other people’s nightmares every time she does this.
“We’ll go through it together,” she tells him. “And it won’t be so bad. Are you sure?”
“Won’t he relapse?” Charlie asks. “Go back to his earlier state? No offense, but there is such a thing as post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Everything in me grinds to a halt. It never even occurred to me that he could go back to the way he was, now that he has come through.
Lucas shrugs. “No offense taken.”
Ruby takes a moment to consider this before meeting Lucas’s worried gaze. “No, but you have to face any memories of the training head-on. No matter how much they hurt, you can’t pull back from them again.”
We can all see the scars on his neck, his arms, some still knitting themselves back together. And even I wonder if he’s ready for this—if he’ll ever really be. The thing about Lucas is, he’s never had the kind of obvious, outward strength that all the stories prescribe—the kind that comes to easily to Sam. His touch in life has always been softer. It is a quiet determination, one that wants to believe in the good of things, even as the bad is breathing down his neck. He sets his jaw and nods.
“Can you fill me in on what’s happened, though?” he asks. Lucas’s right hand jerks. He clasps the wrist hard with his left hand, stilling it. “Is Gray still alive?”
“As far as we know,” Liam says. “He’s in hiding. Why?”
“The Reds…we were made to understand from the beginning that it was his program, that we were serving him directly. I just…want to make sure that they’re far away from him.”
“Shit,” Vida says. “I didn’t even think about that. He could just as easily use that compound as a place to gather up a resistance force, give the peacekeepers a real fight.”
I see my own dread reflected on everyone’s face, even Ruby’s.
But then Chubs says, “Let’s operate under the assumption of hope that he’s smart enough to know he’s been beat. I have to imagine his number one priority at this point is not getting caught. He’s probably halfway around the world, hiding in some cave.”
Operate under the assumption of hope. What a novel idea.
Vida looks at the time on her cell phone, then holds it up for us to read. Eleven o’clock. If it really is a forty-five minute drive to Salem, we’re cutting it close. “If we’re going to do this, we need to jet back over to Ruby’s.”
“Drop us off,” Liam says. “You and Chubs have to go back to D.C. to check in with Cate and Zu and Nico and let them know what’s going on.”
“We’ll wait until you get there to deal with Cruz.” Vida looks over at Lucas. “Would you be willing to make a video we can show her?”
“You won’t need to,” Lucas says. “I’m going with you. I’ll meet her in person.”
“Lucas…” Sam starts.
“I know, I know,” he says, “I promise I won’t be a burden. But she needs to see me—really see me, to understand that Ruby can help them. I want to be part of this. I think I have to be. It’s going to be hard enough for the Reds to understand what’s happening to them—they need to see proof they can get to the other side. I couldn’t help them before, but if I can now…”
My eyes don’t find Lucas’s, they drift over to Liam’s. I’m not surprised to see the rising wave of emotion that crashes through them, over his face, stealing his breath. Because his brother’s dream is here, alive. It has survived death and destruction; it hasn’t blown away with the ash that settled after his fire was put out. It will go on.
“Then I’m going, too,” Sam says, in a voice that shuts down any kind of argument.
“And me, too.”
Because where they go, I will always follow.
I REMEMBER.
There is a secret in the woods, on a small street in a small Virginia town. A town, like so many others, that’s waking from the spell of a long sleep.
I think of it every time another kid sits down in front of us, or, if they’re too weak
to stand, we sit beside them. It’s like a charm I wear inside of my heart. Knowing it’s there, that it’s safe, is enough to beat back the darkness that tries to come sliding back into my heart like a shiver. I think of it every time Ruby goes to work caging the monsters instead of them. I want to tell the men and women in suits and uniforms, the ones who watch us from behind the protective mirrored glass, that the monsters inside us may have teeth, may have claws, but when our monsters stick their heads up and begin to scent the air around them, it’s not because they’re angry, or out for blood. They are lost, trying to find their way home. They are screaming in pain. And when the pain is silent, when they forget what they’ve lost, or they touch a memory not tainted by the Trainer’s razors, it is the fire that speaks to them, whispering, making hushed promises of relief in smoke and ash. There is a burn mark on their hearts that won’t heal, not yet.
There are three facilities, and there are a hundred of us left. The others find this number unbelievable, almost amazing. The word Mia uses is astonishing. I don’t have the heart to tell them about the graves out back, the ones filled with the Reds who burned out during training and were put down. I know it is the same for the other two facilities without needing to be told—there are too many empty cells, missing kids who singed their walls and floors. I do not tell them the Trainers made us dig the graves, pave over them, for no other given reason than we needed the exercise. Instead, I burden one of the men in suits with the weight of it; I want the kids found, what’s left of them returned to their families. Buried right and proper like the humans they are. The end of their lives should not be a question mark that lingers in the hearts of the people who loved them.
My facility is the last one we visit after months of healing and reconditioning at the other two. They’ve brought the Thurmond Reds back here, back to their old cradle, to live again with the younger, unfinished Reds, the ones that weren’t broken and rebuilt into loaded guns. Pennsylvania. I lived in Pennsylvania for seven years, and I never knew it.
Through the Dark (A Darkest Minds Collection) (A Darkest Minds Novel) Page 34
