Him_v4 Read online

Page 8


  Her sister turned, her smile softening as she took in Amelia. "Well, hi!" Faye's annunciation was stifled by her attempt to hide what was left of her teeth.

  "How long have you been up?" Amelia knelt on the floor, feeling maternal, outstretching her arms to wrap her sister into a hug. "Why didn't you wake me?"

  Faye pulled back. "I know how mad you get when I wake you, so..." She shrugged. "I didn't."

  "How are you feeling?" Faye still looked pale, but a slight pink color had found her cheeks. Her eyes were bright and focused, sparkling with mischief. There was a hint of the old Faye back in her body.

  "She's doing well, Amelia," Esau responded from the driver's seat. "Did some tests early this morning. Hopefully it lasts until we get to the Compound."

  "How much longer?" Amelia inquired.

  "Half a day," Ben responded. "We should be able to get there before sunset."

  Amelia felt a twinge of anxiety strike her in the chest as she thought about their arrival. The uncertainty that came with arriving at the Compound was daunting—terrifying, to say the least. More strangers, an unknown place, the fate of Faye still in question. She didn't know what to expect.

  "How much do you know?" Amelia whispered to Faye.

  "Enough," Faye answered, standing from where she sat. Amelia followed suit and they moved back towards the table. "Are you okay?"

  Amelia wanted to tell her that she wasn't. She wanted to fall apart, break down and sob in her sister's arms. She wanted to tell her how confused she was, to ask her how this could all possibly be real. She wanted to tell her about the strange dream with Ben. Everything he'd told her about the future— the war, the loss of life. How she wished she didn't know any of it. But mostly, she just wanted to go home.

  "I'm fine," Amelia lied, looking out the window at the highway. She looked back at her sister, who gave her a skeptical glance. "I swear."

  "Mmhmm." Faye chewed on her thumbnail. "Well, whatever that kid gave me is working. I feel incredible, like I could lift a car or something. Superhuman."

  "Good. Keep up that strength. The doctor there is going to help you."

  Faye nodded. "Thanks."

  "For what?"

  "I dunno, making the decision to do this and getting me this far. Most people would've just let the hospital figure it out and if you did that, I'd be dead."

  "Faye…" Amelia cocked her head to the side to look at her sister.

  "Seriously. You saved my life because you trusted what you saw. You followed your gut. You're amazing."

  "I'm not."

  "I forgot you're terrible at taking compliments."

  Amelia swatted at her sister. "Shut it."

  Ben took a seat next to Amelia. His weight shifted the seat next to her so she had to scoot over, huddling as close as she could to the window. She was unable to meet his eyes after her dream. "How's it going?" he asked.

  "Fine."

  "Did you sleep, Amelia?" She leaned away, feeling awkward and too aware of her movements.

  "Yeah," she mumbled, staring out the window.

  "And she's got the snores to prove it." Faye laughed at her own joke. Amelia's cheeks flushed instantly. "But more importantly, when the hell are we going to get some food?"

  "You're hungry?" Amelia's head snapped back to attention.

  "Maybe."

  "We have food." Ben pointed to the refrigerator with a grimace. "If that's what you want to call it."

  "Got you some smoothies," Amelia said kindly, pointing to her mouth. "You know, because…"

  Faye waved her off. "Is there any food where we're going?" She stood up from the table to snatch a few from the compact fridge. "Do you all from the future, you know, eat food? Because clearly what we have isn't good enough?" She popped the cap off and took a long swig.

  "Of course we do," Ben said. "We just have very strict diets."

  "Yeah, I bet you have to eat really healthy to look the way you do," she said, not an ounce of shyness in her voice. "Those biceps." She raised her eyebrows as she licked some smoothie from her upper lip.

  "Faye!" Amelia hissed.

  "What?"

  "We only eat for sustenance. As I understand it," Ben said, ignoring the comment, his eyes narrowing slightly, "in this time period, you have an overabundance of processed food. Gluttony runs rampant."

  "Welcome to America," Amelia said sarcastically.

  "So you've never had, say, a Dorito?" Faye asked, eyeing a bag of chips Amelia had absentmindedly grabbed at the rest stop.

  "No."

  "Don't you want to try one?" She reached for the bag, opened it, and offered an orange chip to Ben. He stared at it, dangling in front of his face, his eyes leaving it and focusing in on Faye.

  "No."

  "You sure?" she teased.

  Ben looked at Amelia, and she rolled her eyes in good humor. Amelia had no idea if Ben even knew what teasing was. But yet, here they were. He looked at Faye, who was wiggling the chip between her fingers.

  Ben snatched it from her and shoved it into his mouth. It disappeared with a crunch between his teeth. Both Faye and Amelia watched him as he chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.

  "It's terrible," he announced, standing from where he sat. But Amelia caught the ghost of a grin before he made his way back to Esau.

  "Well, he's grumpy," Faye whined, finishing off her smoothie.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The day moved slowly. Faye returned to the bed to rest, feeling nauseous after eating. Hours dragged on, the anticipation of arrival hanging over Amelia's head. They continued down the highway, due west, Esau guiding them the rest of the way. Every so often something on the inside of his forearm would light up. Amelia assumed it was telling him where to go.

  The uneasiness she'd felt earlier hadn't settled, it had only gotten worse. She knew she wasn't getting the full story from Esau or Ben, and it was fueling her anxiety.

  "Do I have a reason to be worried?" she asked Ben, who was busy fiddling with the inside of his forearm as they sat at the table.

  He looked up at her. "About what? Your sister?"

  She hesitated for a moment. "This whole Seraphine business. It sounds like she's not going to be pleased that we're coming with you."

  He looked back at his forearm, lowering his brows. "She won't be. But no, you have nothing to worry about."

  "You telling me the truth?"

  His head snapped up. "I told you we were going to help your sister," he answered sharply. "Just trust me." Trust me. Amelia could have laughed. "Besides," he continued, "if anyone should be concerned about seeing Seraphine, it's me."

  Amelia knew he'd been beating himself up about hurting Faye and getting her sick, but she hadn't thought about the repercussions that Ben might face once they got to the Compound. "Why? What's she going to do to you?"

  Ben kept his lips together in a straight line, his eyes locked ahead, focused on nothing in particular. "We'll see."

  Amelia thought for a moment. "If she can see into the future, she must have known this was coming. Right?"

  "Not necessarily," he said. "I suspect she thought something might lead me astray, but nothing was written in stone. Otherwise, I'm sure she wouldn't have sent me for the migration." He frowned. "Seers only have access to pre-cognitive projections that are right in front of them in that moment in time. But there is always the chance for an alternative future. Things can change quickly."

  "Sounds unreliable," Amelia commented.

  "It's not," he said with more confidence than she thought he should have. "She's rarely wrong. This is my fault."

  "It was a mistake," Amelia argued. To her surprise, she felt defensive for him. She knew how it felt to have something blamed on you that you hadn't meant to do.

  "It's still my fault," he answered. "Mistake or not. It's still my fault."

  Amelia took a turn driving while Ben got some sleep, and Ben took a turn while Esau rested. Finally, night signaled its onset, deeper blues swirling into the sky with the
clouds. Ben had opened the windows, letting in a cross wind that swept through the cabin. It was warm, dry air. The scent of it mixed with fresh earth, burnt rubber, and wet pavement. The smell of mildew that filled the cabin from their moment in the rain had since vanished. Amelia welcomed the newness of where they were. This new place would bring them the answers Faye needed. Wouldn't it?

  She and Faye sat on the same seat on the far side of the table, Amelia's head on Faye's shoulder. It was the comfort she needed as the trip came to a close. Amelia did all she could not to think too much about the unknown waiting for them.

  Faye seemed relatively fine now, she thought to herself, leaning against her. Weak and tired, sure, but that, Ben had said, was to be expected. The doctor will help her, she reassured herself.

  As they drove, a deep darkness from the world outside that was never available along the coast washed over them. Here, in the desert, the openness was vast on either side, the road and headlights a mere speck on the pavement.

  Esau continued to drive, with Ben as his companion in the passenger seat. Amelia could practically feel the exhaustion throughout the vehicle.

  She looked down at her sister, whose eyes were closed. "The medicine won't remedy her energy," Esau had explained. "So she'll still be tired." But a tired, conscious, alive Faye was better than no Faye at all.

  Beside her, Faye went rigid.

  Slowly, Amelia turned to look at her sister. Faye's eyes snapped open, like she'd been pinched or doused in water—wide and unmoving, staring at something that wasn't there.

  Amelia sat up straight, shifting her body to get a better look at her. "Faye?" she said loudly, waiting for a reaction that didn't come. "Faye!" Her voice was shrill with panic.

  And then, her sister's body twitched. The twitching turned into shaking, which turned into convulsing and, unable to help herself, Amelia screamed.

  Ben's response was immediate. Amelia climbed over the table, allowing him to pull Faye from the couch, laying her on the floor. Her frail body rocked back and forth, like she was a rag doll being whipped around by a toddler. Drool pooled in the corners of her mouth as she shook, eyes rolled into her head. Amelia fell to her knees beside her sister, frantic, helpless, and terrified. Ben kneeled next to her, rolling Faye on her side as she convulsed.

  "Help her!" Her plea was hysterical and, in her panic, she couldn't understand why he wasn't doing something more for her.

  "There's nothing I can do." He locked eyes with her. His stare was truthful, but it didn't help Amelia in the midst of her terror. "We need to wait this out." She heard the words, tried to process them, but couldn't. She reached for her. Ben's arm came out forcefully, pushing her back. "No."

  "What's happening to her?" Amelia heard herself yell, her voice strained.

  "She's having a seizure," Ben said calmly.

  His demeanor made her want to punch him in the face. She watched her sister helplessly, her heart aching. The inability to cure this pain for her was agony, a horror she never realized she could feel.

  "Esau!" Ben yelled, his voice steady, eyes never leaving Faye. "We're not going to make it."

  The words cut through her, deep indentations through her heart and belly. She felt like her guts would spill out all over the floor. "What do you mean we're not going to make it?" she cried.

  "She's going to migrate without purpose," he said, as though it were obvious. "We need to get her into the Compound now!" He was losing his cool. To Amelia, that was the scariest thing so far. If Ben couldn't keep it together, it seemed that they were no longer safe.

  "Ben!" Esau's shouted from the front. "We're almost there. I can see where we need to turn off!"

  "Hurry up!"

  "I'm trying!"

  The two of them were frantic. Time was running out, she could feel it now. Tension pulsed through their bodies, the air thick with fear and worry. Bile coated her throat. She wanted to hurl.

  She looked back at Faye, then got to her feet, eager to see what Esau saw through the windshield, wishing the vehicle would move quicker.

  The sky was pitch black, the headlights highlighting the road in front of them. Then, without warning, he pulled the steering wheel sharply to the right, prompting a sudden turn that sent her flying into the makeshift kitchen counter. She worked to steady herself and felt the ground change beneath their wheels. It was no longer smooth, but foreign territory—what felt like rocks, plants and dirt shifting their balance.

  Amelia looked back towards the windshield, uncertain how Esau was navigating this behemoth of a vehicle through the desert without crashing into anything, but sure enough, there was a small row of lights in the distance highlighting what looked like a garage. He raced towards it. She could practically feel the strain of the tires against the desert floor. Esau's eyes were locked forward, jaw tight, as he drove towards their destination.

  "No!" Ben shrieked. His voice pierced the air. As if she was in slow motion, Amelia turned, her eyes widening with fright at what she saw. Ben kneeled on the floor, hands empty, jaw slack in bewilderment.

  The floor was empty. Faye was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Her face drooped in disbelief, eyes moving wildly in their sockets, trying to make sense of the empty floor before her. Her mouth gaped, searching for a scream that wouldn't come. "W-where…?" She asked the question he couldn't answer, didn't have a right to answer. He'd caused this, this was his responsibility, and he couldn't give her an answer.

  Amelia dropped to her knees, hands splayed out, searching the floor where her sister had disappeared. But she'd find nothing. He knew, because he'd searched it, too—put his palms flat and laid his body down on top of the spot she had been, like somehow she'd reappear.

  In an instant, Faye was gone. Her body disappeared like it had never existed. Just like that, arms, legs, brain, beating heart. All of it, gone. No indication that she'd even been in the vehicle before that moment. She was floating onward to somewhere else.

  "STOP," Ben bellowed, his voice finally catching up with what was happening. Esau's foot upon the break was instantaneous.

  "Where is she?" Amelia finally found her words, dripping with desperation for an answer. Her face was shocked, eyes wide, brows slanted sharply.

  "She migrated." Ben tried to keep his voice from shaking. "Without purpose. Without protection. We won't know where she's gone until she comes back."

  "If she comes back," Esau said softly, coming up behind Amelia.

  "If she comes back?" Amelia was hysterical. She had a right to be. "She might not come back?"

  Ben didn't want to answer her.

  "She might be gone." Esau cut no corners around the truth, kneeling down to Amelia's level to stare at the empty space before them.

  "Reverse fifty feet," Ben instructed him. Instinct began to take over.

  A Migrator stays hidden, patient, and sharp.

  Revelation means chaos.

  Chaos means death.

  A migration without purpose most certainly meant revelation. They were in trouble. Esau would listen to what he had to say.

  As if on command, Esau turned on his heel, returning to the steering wheel, backing up to the spot where they'd lost her. Ben had taken a mental note of how far they'd gone, even though panic squeezed his nerves. This was all part of his training. See past the panic and do your job.

  He is most happy when following orders.

  He could almost hear Seraphine's voice in his mind.

  He watched Amelia with the same curious fervor as before. She searched him for an explanation but he was empty. All out of explanations now. Nothing left to say. Then, without warning, she vaulted forward, arms latching onto his shoulders, landing on him awkwardly. She nestled into him, cries wracking her body, and he placed an arm around her awkwardly.

  "Esau," he said to his companion again. "Get Seraphine."

  Esau put the vehicle back into park. He nodded in his direction, then took off through the door into the darkness of the night
.

  Amelia lay against his chest, her cheek in his ribs, arms around his mid-section. He could feel the wetness of her tears through his shirt. This was unfamiliar. His heart beat through his chest, pounding in his ears. It was back, the anxiety, and another strange emotion he couldn't quite place when he looked down at Amelia.

  "I'm so sorry," he said, uncertain about his apology.

  She didn't answer. She was quiet now, her tears dissipating, like she'd used them all up. Instead, her hands found the floor beside them. She laid herself down on it, feeling faux wood flooring with her fingernails.

  They sat there for what felt like hours. He was hyper aware of himself, of his body—hands on Amelia's shoulders, the weight of another body against his knees. The new feelings of whatever was happening. He should have been terrified, angry, and guilty. His training, years of it, screamed at him to push her away. This was wrong.

  A Migrator needs no friends or family.

  But he couldn't walk away from her. This was the closest he'd ever been to another person.

  Ben heard the sound of running before he saw them—three shadows barely visible in the darkness of the desert outside the RV door Esau had left open. Amelia heard them too, and she sat up wiping her face with the palms of her hands. She met his eyes, her chin trembling.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder, a sign of reassurance, before he stood from where he sat and moved towards the door. Behind him, Amelia got to her feet.

  Esau came to the door first, red from exertion. He must have run the entire way to the Compound. Behind him came Johan, a tall, thin man with a creased forehead and long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Ben stepped away from the door to allow them inside. Esau beelined to the table where Amelia sat, while Johan stepped in awkwardly, trying to avoid the low ceiling.

  The last to climb aboard was a small woman with ochre skin, pouty lips, and hooded eyes.

  Seraphine.

  She was petite, no taller than five feet, but her presence was magnificent. There was a grace about her—she moved silently, her gait patient and delicate. Her face was somber, calm, unflinching, even as her eyes grazed across him. He could feel her disappointment, a lingering moment between the two of them, though he knew she wouldn't vocalize her disappointment in front of a Predecessor.