Blind the Stars (Rose of the Dawn Series Book 3) (6 page)

I
doze off and wake up when Dory gets up from the bed. She doesn’t even make a
dent in the mattress. She leaves the room. It’s another airtight seal.
Shutting the door behind her I can’t hear a sound from the living space beyond
the door. The room is cool and dark. I get up from the bed, kicking my legs
over the side and walk over to open the door to the rest of the quarantine
cellar. My eyes don’t have to adjust because it is the same low light as my
room.

Pike
is sitting in the same chair, but with Dory’s blanket over his chest and arms.
He sleeps.

Ezekiel
is on the couch. He’s sleeping, too.

A
door behind me opens.

I
turn.

“Hello?
Anyone there?”

No
one is there, no one answers.

I
go over to the open door, closing the one to the living space behind me. The
light gradually brightens as I enter and heat rises, sensing motion. Warm air
blows around me. It’s the master suite with a king-sized bed, chaise lounge,
and drawers built into the length of one entire wall. I walk over to the
closet. My heart pounds so loud, I can feel it in my ears. I tense my muscles
and squeeze my fists. Even my bionic one.

“If
someone’s in there -” I begin and then throw open the door. A fully-stocked
walk-in closet, filled with dresses and skirts hanging neatly in rows, shoes
stacked from floor to ceiling each with their own little pocket or cubby. My
father’s suits take up half of the closet. No one is inside.

I
walk past another mirror without bothering to look at myself. I leave the room
the same way I came in. The lights dim. I close the door behind me. Across my
room there is yet another door. I cross the room and open it. I step inside. It
brightens immediately.

“Dory,
you in here?” Evie’s room. It’s decorated with a lot of pink. Pink walls, pink
furniture including a pink beanbag chair, pink bedspread and ruffle. Pink
curtains hide outside-viewing screens. There are all of Evie’s favorite stuffed
toys in a pink hammock on the wall beside the bed. Mesh mosquito netting is
around it, but pulled back and tied to grommets on the wall. I don’t understand
why they all didn’t just hide down here, or what Dory was doing upstairs.

There
is a note on the bed addressed to me. I unfold it.

rose,

I
think i know where Evie is. Must find her. Not too late. I’m better to do it on
my own. Finding evie. i love you, Rose. please tell Ezekiel i’m sorry. i love
him, too. love, dory

I
take one last look around the room. Dory isn’t here and there is no way out.

I
leave.

Ezekiel
is on his feet, rubbing his temples. Pike is sitting with his head in his hands.

“She’s
gone!” I say. “But she couldn’t have gone far. She must’ve just left. Didn’t
she?” I look at Ezekiel. “Did you see her go? I fell asleep for a few minutes,
and she was gone.”

Ezekiel
looks at his arm and taps it once, twice, then a third time. “I don’t think she
left a few minutes ago.”

“I
was just talking to her,” I counter.

“My
head is killing me,” Pike states and I look at him rubbing it. Has he heard
what Ezekiel said? Come to think of it, my head is a bit fuzzy, too.

“It’s
been at least two days,” Ezekiel says.

“Two
days since what?” I question. My skin crawls and my artificial arm is tight.

“I
think we may have been drugged.” Ezekiel holds up an empty container that was
placed on the side table by his head. “It had enough sleeping solution to put
us out for at least twenty-four hours, maybe more.”

“I
couldn’t be drugged,” I say. “I haven’t eaten anything.”

“Essential
oils from the capsule could put anyone into a nice, deep sleep. All you would
need would be to ingest it or come in contact with its oil.” Ezekiel puts the
container back down.

“Wait.
I’m telling you, I just saw her. A few minutes ago.” I point my arm in the
direction of the bedrooms.

“It
gives Dory a nice headstart,” Pike states ignoring me. Ezekiel shakes his head.
Am I invisible?

“I
was just talking to her.” I stomp my foot on the ground. The impact sends a
tingle up my leg, back and to my neck. I shake my head. It throbs. “If she did
drug us, then I am once again in a prison.”

Pike
looks at me. His eyebrows furrow. Being brought to Aegis and locked up in The
Hollow, it surprises me that he wouldn’t understand. I elaborate. “It’s all
going full-circle. I started here, in this house and now I’m back. Being
drugged to leave and now to stay.”

“That
isn’t all there is to life,” Pike tells me, reading my thoughts. “There will be
a place that you’ll feel safe again. Where you’ll want to stay.”

I
scowl at him because I know that the only place I want to be or will ever want
to be is with him. He’s not thinking about that place with me. I don’t want him
to say anymore. My shoulders tense and I turn to Ezekiel. “If Dory’s out there
alone, she’s not going to make it on her own.”

“She’s
probably better than we give her credit for,” Ezekiel answers. With him she would’ve
been better off. He could’ve gone with her. He should’ve.

“We
should check in on everyone at the safe house,” Pike says. His brow furrows.
He’s thinking. I can’t look at Pike so I turn away. My anger at his only
wanting to be friends is fueling the energy, the strength within to want to
find my sister. “We’ll be able to figure it out there. It isn’t far. A few days
hike on foot, but only a few hours by car.”

“She’s
going to look for Evie. She knows where Evie is.” I open the note I folded into
my palm with my real fingers. I don’t dare undo it with my fake ones. I’m not
sure they wouldn’t rip it.

“I
want to take a look at that,” Ezekiel stares up at me. I hand it over. Her
writing is less legible than the notes she sent to me in Aegis.

He
looks at it for no more than a few seconds.

“She’s
going to Typhon in Hadestown.” He blurts out. Pike and I look at him.

Another
abandoned city. Like so many others that have plagued what’s left of this land.
Another dystopia?

“How
do you know, Zeke?” Pike asks.

“It
didn’t say that in the note.” I take the letter back and look it over. The
paper is white and there is some sort of stamp embossed on it. Dory wrote over
it and I can’t figure out what it says I flip it over and still, there is nothing
legible but the words she wrote on it and nothing says either Typhon or
Hadestown.

Ezekiel
nods and points at the letter. “It’s all jumbled, but look at the letters.”
Pike and I peer over his shoulder. We don’t notice anything. Ezekiel continues,
“She spells out Mine Fire in her note. Those capital letters refer to Mine Fire
City.”

I
stare at the paper. There are some odd placements of capital letters on the
paper. I-E-M-N-I-F-R-E. I see it now. Unscrambled, they spell out MINE FIRE.

“Typhon
is the worst part of Hadestown. Why would she be going there?” I remember
reading about it with Jenny during a history lesson. When the land changed,
most people moved closer together, not farther apart. Those leftover places on
the outskirts of Hadestown were abandoned. “And if I remember right, the most
toxic chemicals are still simmering in Typhon.” That’s what got it the nickname
Mine Fire City.

“It’s
where they all get dumped at least,” Pike says. “It was the region dump for chemical
waste. Still is, I suppose.”

“Why
would she go there? Why would Evie go there? It’s in the opposite direction of
anything, isn’t it?” I ask.

“It’s
to the west of us. About a four hour drive. And you’re right, there’s nothing
much out there. There’s nothing to the east either, though, now that the
coastline’s all but covered by water,” Ezekiel says.

“Where’s
the safe house?” I ask, hoping it’s to the west. At least then we’d all be
going in the same direction.

“North.
It’s just north of us,” Pike says.

“Everything’s
so very close in reality,” I say. I think about trekking through the woods from
The Hollow, and even running from Aegis. I had no idea how close everything was
to everything else.

“But
why would she go out toward Hadestown? It’s a wasteland. No one lives out there
anymore,” Ezekiel finishes.

“Going
to the safe house won’t be much of a detour. We should go there first.” Pike reiterates.

“Shouldn’t
we get Dory first?” I ask. “She’ll be on foot, so she can’t be that far ahead
of us.”

“Knowing
that her pace is much slower than ours, we’ll be able to catch up. We’ll go to
the safe house and inform the others.” Pike gets up.

“Ezekiel?”
I look over at him. He hasn’t said anything about going after Dory.

“Hara
and your friends know I’m coming back. I told them I would,” Ezekiel says. “We
didn’t plan on them staying there any more than a week or two before they would
want to find somewhere more permanent to hide out in case The Hollow starts to
look for them.”

“You
don’t think they’re safe there?” I ask.

“I
don’t know. But I think if The Hollow has stopped looking for you, it’s because
they’ve gone after them. To get to you.” Ezekiel stops talking. A screen turns on.
It is light outside and with dew on the lawn. It’s morning.

Pike
gets up and smiles at me. I smile back despite being angry at him. Despite him
wanting to be just friends. But according to Ezekiel’s timing, that all
happened days ago. Or did it happen at all? “Let’s take a few minutes to get
ready and head out. We go to the safe house and then Mine Fire City.”

Pike
moves toward the bathroom and Ezekiel goes to the kitchen. I stay where I am
because I don’t know what I need or what I should do. I’ll change my clothes. Going
to the bedroom, I hope I don’t come out days later. I strip down to redress in
the same colored clothes.

“How
long will it take us to get to Mine Fire City from the safe house?” I ask upon
exiting the bedroom. I know everyone thinks Dory is safer than everyone else,
but I’m seriously worried about her. Pike steps into the hallway from bathroom.

“A
few hours’ drive. More if the roads are out. Once we leave here Zeke won’t get
it up on satellite in the event that someone is watching,” Pike answers. I nod,
anxious to get to the safe house and then to my sisters.

Knowing
we’re leaving as soon as possible, I go to the bathroom and take a minute to
clean up. I don’t know when I may have this luxury again, and I move as quickly
as I can. I take the clean clothes off and turn on the shower. Steam collects
on the mirror and it’s the first time I haven’t thought about anything since
being here. I slide the glass door and hurry into the shower. I slide it back,
behind me, letting hot water spray my head and back. Warm water rolls across my
skin. My shoulder contracts to fill any space between my skin and the plastic
arm. Once an airtight seal has been formed, my shoulder relaxes. Even my
artificial arm appreciates the warmth. Fresh water is a commodity. Even though
we have our own aquifer underground, the water will automatically shut off as
soon as a certain amount flows through the pipes and I’m enjoying every quick
moment of it. It’s the first real wash I’ve had since leaving home that hasn’t
involved a mere washcloth and sanitizer.

Soap
dispenses with the water and while I feel wonderful, I actually don’t feel any
cleaner than before. The soap turns off and it’s now just water and mostly
steam. I’m running out of time. My artificial arm becomes heavy and in a
moment, I panic. I grab it with my other arm, afraid it may slip off, knowing,
however that it can’t. Water beads up and rolls off its slick exterior.

The
water turns off and I open the door. Naked, I wrap a warmed towel around my
body and another around my head. It’s much harder with an unwieldly arm, but I
manage. Synthetic, soft, the towels smell like nothing and that’s good for me.
My mind thinks of nothing. Not even my arm. No future projections. No memories.

A
button beside the mirror on the wall blinks a light pink. On-off. On-off. I
press it.

Whoosh!

A
fan I can’t see begins to whir ever-so quietly. In a moment the steam is sucked
up and away through a vent that opens in the ceiling. The opening closes. The fan
stops whirring. The room is still warm, but dry. No moisture remains
whatsoever, unless it’s on my body. Patting my arm to remove any excess water,
it isn’t heavy any more. I can barely feel any difference at all. I pick up my
clothes, piece by piece, and put them back on. I toss both towels into a
hamper, knowing there is no one here to collect them, let alone wash and dry
them. The bottom of the hamper drops out; my clothes fall through the floor to
somewhere else. It doesn’t matter.

I
run my fingers through my wet, tangled hair. I shake away excess water and
droplets land on the counter and mirror before evaporating. My hair’s almost
dry. I open the door and step out of the bathroom.

Pike
and Ezekiel look up. They are waiting for me. They stand between the kitchen
and the living space and stop talking as soon as I step forward. They were too
quiet for me to hear, but I’m guessing they were discussing my sisters or me.