Extant

by Mary M Wallace

  Shedding her sweaty clothes, she stepped into the shower and turned the water to a temperature as hot as she could stand. She stood under the spray for a full 5 minutes without moving. She shut off her thoughts and focused on the hot water raining down on her, willing it to wash away all the noise in her head. Eventually, she stirred from her trance and went through the motions of washing her hair and scrubbing away the remnants of her overzealous workout. When Sawyer turned off the water and stepped from the shower into the steam-filled bathroom, she’d reached a decision. She was going to go visit Stella.

  Once she’d made up her mind, she didn’t see any point in putting it off. She got dressed and dried her hair, quickly working it into a loose braid down her back. When she was finished, she studied her reflection for a moment. She knew she didn’t look any different than she always had. Same blonde hair and green eyes. Her nose was still a bit larger than she liked, and she still sported the scar near her bottom lip from when she’d ran into a wall as a child while practicing her ability. She recognized the woman in the mirror, but somehow, she still felt like a stranger. So much was changing around her, and she wondered if the person she used to be was still in there somewhere, hidden behind layers of guilt and grief and anger. She shook her head at the direction of her thoughts and took a deep breath before turning away from the mirror and quickly leaving her quarters. She walked swiftly down the hall to the stairwell, taking it up two floors. This floor held only storage areas and the holding cells. Very few people frequented this area, and the hallway was empty as she walked.

  When she rounded the corner at the end of the hall, she saw Pax standing near the outer door to the holding cells. It was the closest thing to a jail in the compound. It was just a few rooms with reinforced doors and concrete walls. They were isolated from the rest of the compound and no one remembered their original purpose. They’d modified them into holding cells and over the years, they’d served their purpose well, if not very often. Pax leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. When he noticed her approaching, he stood straighter and gave a little wave of his hand. Sawyer smiled back in greeting.

  “What’s up?” she asked, trying to make her tone casual.

  If Pax thought anything was strange about her visit, he didn’t let on. He tipped his head toward the door. “Conrad.” He said the name as though it explained everything. She supposed it did, in a way. The entire compound knew that Conrad had been trying to talk information out of Stella, and that he’d been unsuccessful so far. He came down here nearly every day and tried, along with Gwynn. Neither had managed to get her to say anything beyond her original request to speak to Rowan. Sawyer studied the closed door of the cell for a moment before turning back to Pax.

  “Has he had any luck?” she asked.

  He gave a shake of his head. “She hasn’t said a word in 3 days.”

  Sawyer’s brow lowered as she considered that. She understood what drove Conrad to keep coming here, day after day, even though he’d gotten nothing from Stella. He was angry and hurt after losing Lydia. He was reaching for anything that might lead him to the person responsible. She didn’t understand what drove Stella to keep silent, however. The longer it went on, the guiltier she appeared. Sawyer couldn’t make herself believe that Stella had willingly brought a killer into their home—her own home. But every day that passed without her offering to help increased the suspicion against her. Whatever had happened to Stella since the night she’d disappeared, Sawyer couldn’t believe that she was a traitor. She needed to get her to talk.

  Turning back to Pax she said, “How long has he been in there?”

  Pax glanced at the watch he wore on his wrist. “About a half hour,” he said.

  Sawyer nodded and reached for the door handle. “You don’t have to stick around,” she told him.

  Pax shrugged. “She’s been staying invisible unless I’m here. But it’s up to you.”

  Sawyer had known that Pax had been accompanying Corbin on his trips to question Stella. Pax’s ability to completely negate the abilities of other Praetorians made him an asset. The only drawback was that he couldn’t target it. When he utilized his ability, it was as though every Praetorian within 50 feet of him was switched off. It wasn’t something they even noticed until they tried to use their ability. And it worked through walls, so he didn’t have to be in the same room with a prisoner to incapacitate him or her.

  Sawyer almost asked him to stay, but then she shook her head. “Thanks, but it’s okay. I can handle her.”

  She pulled open the door and began to walk down the narrow hallway before her. She felt her nerves tighten with every step and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. The hallway spilled into a large open area with several doors set into the walls. There was a guard posted outside one of the doors and Stella walked over to stand before him. She recognized him—his name was Ethan Roberts and he was a few years her junior. She donned her cloak of authority and looked at the man directly.

  “I need to see her,” she said. It wasn’t a request and they both knew it. Ethan gave her a reluctant nod.

  “I’ll see if Mr. Brooks is finished,” he said, holding up a hand for her to wait outside. He turned and opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through and let it close behind him. He was gone for less than a minute before he returned. His expression didn’t reveal any emotion. “He’ll be out soon,” he said. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Sawyer barely suppressed a sigh. Of course, Conrad wanted to talk to her. She’d been avoiding him for weeks. She was sure he could tell. He wasn’t stupid. She’d found it difficult to look at him, knowing how badly she’d failed. She hadn’t even been there when Lydia had been shot. She’d been sparring with Corbin in the arena and hadn’t known that her friends were not far away, being held at gunpoint. She’d never know if her presence would have saved Lydia or not, but she couldn’t help feeling like she had failed the other woman. The sound of the door opening behind her pulled her from those thoughts. She turned to see Conrad emerging from it.

  She could tell he was exhausted. His clothes had a slightly rumpled appearance and his normally clean-cut hair was overdue for a trim. There were faint circles under his eyes and he looked as though he could use several days of sleep. He didn’t smile as he approached her.

  “Sawyer,” he said in greeting. “Did you need something? Has something happened?”

  She gave a little shake of her head as she met his tired gaze. “Nothing new to report,” she said. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “I’d like to try. To talk to her.” Her eyes flicked to the door behind Conrad as his narrowed. She thought she saw a spark of something in his eyes, but it vanished quickly.

  “Why?” he asked. His tone wasn’t sharp, simply curious.

  Sawyer took a deep breath. “I should have come long before now, Conrad and I’m sorry I haven’t.” If her words had any effect on him, he didn’t show it. “You could have ordered me to, but you didn’t. Thank you for that.” She looked down at her hands briefly before turning her gaze back to Conrad’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I let my own issues interfere with helping end this war and I shouldn’t have. But I’m here now and I’d like to try.”

  Conrad studied her for a moment before he nodded. He released his breath in a long sigh and said, “I don’t know what good it’ll do, but you’re welcome to try. God knows I’m not getting anywhere with her. She just stares at the ceiling or the wall the whole time I’m in there.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I’ve just been wasting my time.”

  Sawyer didn’t know how to respond to his rant, so she just said, “I’ll do my best.”

  Conrad looked slightly deflated now, but he nodded. As she moved to walk past him, he reached a hand out and touched her shoulder.

  “For the record,” he said, “I wouldn’t have ordered you. I don’t blame you for not wanting to do this before. I appreciate you trying now.”

  “Thanks,” she s
aid quietly and made her way to the door. Ethan held it open for her and she walked through.

  The room beyond was small. It contained a single chair that faced a large window made of some sort of shatter-resistant material. Sawyer thought it was probably bullet-proof as well, but she didn’t know for sure. On the other side of the window was another room, this one slightly larger than the little observation room she was standing in. It held a toilet and sink, a low bunk and a single chair, all of which was bolted to the concrete floor and walls. It was every prison cell she’d ever seen on television—simple, stark, utilitarian and harsh. The lone occupant of the cell lay on the bunk, staring at the ceiling, her red hair hanging off the end of the bed. It hung nearly to the floor and Sawyer had the fleeting thought that it was much longer than it had been the last time she’d seen it.

  She stood there and studied the woman on the bed, her heart beating faster than it had been a moment before. She felt a strange pain in her chest and was shocked to find herself blinking back tears. Being told Stella was alive and seeing her in person were two very different things and she hadn’t expected this sort of reaction. She felt a strange urge to laugh but stifled it. She wanted nothing more than to hug her friend, but instead she began to walk toward the chair. Stella hadn’t moved at all since Sawyer had entered the room. She lay there with her hands clasped lightly across her abdomen, her legs crossed at the ankles, looking as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Sawyer took another step into the room. She wasn’t sure what to say, now that she was here. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and forced her feet to carry her over to the chair. She sat down. Still, Stella hadn’t looked in her direction. She’d find it funny if it weren’t so annoying.

  Once, when they were kids, Sawyer had cut the hair on one of Stella’s dolls. She’d thought the doll looked much cooler with a mohawk, but Stella hadn’t agreed. She’d refused to speak to Sawyer for an entire week. Whenever Sawyer would try to talk to her, Stella would become invisible and sneak away. It was the longest the two had ever gone without speaking. Until the night of their last mission together.

  The silence stretched on for several minutes before Sawyer finally spoke. “I guess this is a bit more serious than a doll with a bad haircut, huh?”

  Stella’s eyes shot toward the window. It was clear she hadn’t expected her visitor to be Sawyer. Sawyer smiled and gave her a little wave. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I’m sorry,” she said. Stella must not have expected that, because her eyes narrowed slightly. She still said nothing, but she didn’t turn back to her study of the ceiling either.

  Sawyer went on, speaking as though she were having a conversation. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I should have, I know. The truth is, I was afraid.” She gave a little laugh. “I know, right? Me, admitting I was scared? Cue the apocalypse. But I was. I was scared you blamed me for that night. I wasn’t fast enough to save you. I left you behind. Maybe it’s my fault Ephraim had you at all.” She trailed off and waited, hoping for some sign that Stella might answer her. She didn’t.

  Sawyer sighed, “When I heard you were alive, I swear my heart stopped. I couldn’t believe it. I’ve replayed that night in my head a thousand times and I still don’t know how you’re here. I hate myself for letting Corbin drag me out of there that night.” She could feel her throat growing tight with emotion. She didn’t want to cry for a second time in one day. She’d never been the emotional type, but then maybe she hadn’t had enough reason in the past. “Maybe I could have done something.” She broke off and swiped at a tear that trailed down one cheek. She turned her gaze to the floor beneath her feet and took several deep breaths. She cleared her throat and looked back at Stella. “Or maybe I would have gotten the whole team killed. Who knows?” She shook her head closed her eyes.

  “You couldn’t have saved me.” Stella’s voice was low, but Sawyer heard it. Her eyes shot toward her, but Stella had turned her gaze back to the ceiling. Sawyer waited for her to speak again, but she remained silent.

  “What happened, Stella?” she asked. “Talk to me. Please.”

  Stella sighed, but didn’t turn to look at Sawyer. “Whose idea was it to send you in here?”

  “Mine.” Sawyer sat up straighter in the chair.

  Stella’s eyes drifted closed for a moment before she resumed her study of the ceiling. “How’s Rowan?” she finally said. “Is he—okay?”

  Sawyer wondered if Stella had asked about Rowan before now, but she didn’t say that. “He’s okay,” she said. “Mostly. He was a mess after…” she let her words trail off. “I didn’t know if he’d ever come out of that place after we lost you, but he did. It took a long time. Sometimes I still worry about him. Since you came back, he’s been distant again. He blames himself, I think. For not seeing it, for not saving you.”

  Sawyer watched a tear trickle from the corner of Stella’s eye. The other woman made no move to wipe it away. She lay motionless, her gaze on the concrete above her.

  “What happened that night?” Sawyer asked. The silence stretched on for so long that she didn’t think she was going to get an answer. Finally, Stella spoke, but her tone had changed. It was sharp and full of anger and Sawyer almost didn’t recognize it.

  “I remember falling. Then came the pain. I couldn’t breathe. I remember thinking that I was dead and then everything went dark. The next thing I remember was waking up in a sort of medical facility. There were bright lights, and everything was stark white. Machines beeped. I was tired and couldn’t move, but the pain was gone. That was the biggest thing I noticed. No pain. Then I saw Rafe Wilks standing by my bed, looking down at me. I didn’t recognize the look in his eyes for what it was, at first. Pity. I realized that he’d healed me, even though I didn’t understand why he was there or where I was.” Stella sat up in one fluid motion, putting her feet on the floor and facing the window. She looked directly at Sawyer. “He said he was sorry but that things were about to get worse for me. I thought he was apologizing for my situation, for my being a prisoner. It took some time, but I eventually realized that he was telling me he was sorry for saving me.” Stella’s gaze dropped to her feet for a moment before she spoke again. The words were faint, but Sawyer heard them clearly. “It didn’t take much longer for me to wish he hadn’t.”

  When she looked back to meet Sawyer’s eyes, there was a blankness there that Sawyer had never seen before and for the first time in nearly 20 years, Stella was a stranger to her.

  “I’m sorry,” Sawyer whispered. “Stella, I wish—”

  Stella stood, shaking her head. She began to slowly pace the length of the room. “Don’t,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault any more than it was Rowan’s. I understand why he doesn’t want to see me. The things I did—the person I was forced to become. I’m not the same person he knew.” She shook her head again. “Just tell him that I understand.” She stopped walking and looked at Sawyer again. “Please.”

  Sawyer nodded. “I will, but just listen. We can figure this all out. You’re home now. We just have to talk to Conrad. We can work it out.”

  Stella shook her head and cast her gaze back to the ceiling. When she looked at Sawyer again, there was an anger there that turned her face into that of a stranger. “Do you really think anything will ever be okay again? I brought Hastings in here and Lydia is dead because of it. I led him into this place like I was his fucking puppet! I had no control. I almost shot Rowan! Do you think Conrad is just going to let all that go? What, because we have a history? Because I grew up here or because he’s in love with my mother? I got his daughter killed! Nothing is ever going to fix that.” She shook her head, looking almost disgusted. “Just leave, Sawyer. You can’t fix this.”

  Sawyer didn’t know what to say, so she stood on legs that had become shaky, turned and walked slowly to the door. Before she opened it, she turned back and said, “I’ll come back soon.” She waited several seconds, hoping for an answer that never came. Then she turned and slipped silent
ly through the door.

  Chapter Four

  “Well, I did it,” Sawyer said, pushing her way into Corbin's quarters. If he was shocked by her sudden presence at his place, he didn't say it. She charged through the living room and went directly to the kitchen for a beer. Corbin turned and watched her progress before closing the door.

  He had no idea what Sawyer was talking about, but she was clearly upset about something. He watched as she twisted the top off the bottle and took a long drink. He walked into the kitchen to stand closer to her, studying her face.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  She gave a harsh laugh and shook her head. He was shocked to see the tears glistening in her eyes. “I took your advice and went to see Stella,” she said. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she’d gotten control of the tears. She took another drink of the beer before she faced him fully.

  “She’s so different, Corbin,” she said. “I don’t know what they did to her while she was gone, but she’s not the same.”

  Corbin reached a hand out to touch her arm, his brow lowered. “Did she talk to you?”

  Sawyer nodded and took another drink of the beer before setting it down on the counter beside her. “Some,” she said. “She told me what she remembers from that night and asked about Rowan.” Sawyer took a deep breath. What she said next drew Corbin up short. “She said Rafe Wilks healed her.” She looked directly in his eyes when she said it, her gaze steady.

  “Rafe?” he asked, shock evident in his voice. “I thought he was dead? No one has seen him in years. Is he with Ephraim now?” Sawyer looked uncomfortable and she seemed to be steeling herself for something. “What?” he asked, eyes narrowed. “Just tell me.”