Savior (7 page)

…where I’d left Jameson.

That was the reason for his declaration of love. He hadn’t expected to come with us.

The second these notions came together, fear absorbed me and I swiftly began fighting against whoever held me captive in the air. My torso rotated wildly and my legs kicked, trying to find leverage against anything they could find.

“Shhh,” urged someone nearby, and I realized I wasn’t alone.

Aware of someone else's presence, I was flooded with optimism.

The girl who’d been with me was hovering to my right. I swiveled my head to the left only to find a vacant spot where Jameson should be. Beyond it, there were others.

Hundreds of bodies forming dark silhouettes against the night sky floated nearby. I heard weeping and saw some attempting to stabilize themselves midair. Yet others didn’t bother fighting it, instead, choosing to focus on the devastation below us.

In the distance, I recognized Oscar first, his massive body standing out in the middle of the crowd. Next to him was the rest of my family and beside them, in a group, hovered the Caldwells. Jameson was the only one missing.

We were levitating, but I couldn’t comprehend how until I heard the person, who had shushed me earlier, speak again.

“Quiet! He’s concentrating.”

I looked around in search of the
he
being referred to and my eyes landed on the only person who still had the ability to levitate an entire village.

Theleo hovered a few feet from me with his eyes closed.  He had his chin down, fighting the pressure. As I opened my mouth and drew in a breath to demand he return me to Jameson’s side, I found someone blocking my view. And the profile was one I couldn’t have mistaken.

“Jameson,” I exhaled, relief shooting through me.

He gave me a victorious gaze before calling out in Theleo’s direction.

“It’s safe. They’re gone.”

At that news, we began slowly descending, our hair and clothing fluttering in the breeze. Some landed on juts of land protruding around the village, some on docks that remained intact, and some on boats floating abandoned in the water.

Jameson and I, by coincidence or design, I couldn’t be sure, ended up on his dock, where we’d last seen each other.

We stood still for only a second before embracing each other.

“What happened to you?” I asked, my words being muffled in the curve of his neck. His seafaring, woodsy smell enveloped me. “I came back for you, but you were gone.”

“No, not that. I can take care of myself. What happened when I was pulled away from you? Why weren’t you able to come with me?” I sounded upset, which would be an accurate description of my feelings at the moment.

He slowly inhaled, giving me the impression he was taking in my scent…as I was drawing in his.

“That was part of the plan. I’m sorry, I had to wait…” he whispered into my hair, stirring the strands along my ear with his breath. “We needed to be sure everyone was out.”

I pulled my head back, understanding immediately what he meant. But it was Theleo, who now stood behind us, who validated it.

“He stayed to ensure no one was left behind.”

My eyes never left Jameson, a part of me, a strong part, not wanting to let him out of my sight just yet.

“You put your life at risk,” I stated, anger finding its way into my tone.

“I did,” he acknowledged, unashamed.

“I’m…” I paused to determine my emotion. “…furious.”

“I can see that,” he replied, a shallow smirk hovering below the surface.

“At you.”

“I know.”

We stared at each other for what felt like a very long time and then I exhaled loudly, exasperated. Just as I released my breath, he offered an explanation. Apparently, he had been allowing time for my anger to subside.

“I had no choice-”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not in this,” he firmly declared, his smirk disappearing. “Not in this situation, Jocelyn.”

“Jameson is the Officer of this penal colony,” interjected Theleo, sensing a rise in tension between us.

My confusion caused me to blink several times. “Officer?” I then pivoted my head from Theleo to Jameson, awaiting a response.

Jameson gestured for Theleo to explain, which he did with an air of respect. “The Dissenters have selected one person in each province to oversee each penal colony within that province, to protect the imprisoned as best they can. Jameson is the chosen Officer for this one.”

I stood back, dumbfounded. An Officer? Of this penal colony? “So that’s why you were the one who delivered the supplies here for all those years?” I asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

“Yes.”

“I can assure deliveries were the least of it,” Theleo added, implying there was far more responsibility to the role.

Certainly what Jameson just did – nearly sacrificing his life for the rest of the village – was a clear example.

“And that’s why you were gone…today…,” I surmised, out loud.

“I was starting to establish a stronger perimeter around the village,” Jameson admitted.

“So was I,” I muttered, still deep in thought.

He chuckled under his breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

When I looked up, he was grinning at me.

Shrugging in response, I changed the subject, choosing instead to ask a question that was lingering in the forefront of my mind. “So, who are the Dissenters?”

Theleo’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“No, I’ve never heard the term,” I clarified.

He overcame his reaction to reply, “In that case…You are,” replied Theleo, plainly. “Rebels who oppose The Sevens rule. The Sevens have known for some time that you,” he stopped to correct himself. “They have known that
we
exist but only a few have ever been discovered and apprehended.”

Jameson added, “We do our best to remain hidden.”

With good reason, I thought. I’d seen what The Sevens do to the innocent. I couldn’t imagine what they would do to those found guilty of treason. And I didn’t want to think about it…because Jameson and I were undeniably guilty of that infraction.

Jameson was watching me, waiting for my reaction, one in particular: Acceptance.

“I understand…all of it.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, that will make things easier between us.”

Before he could go any further, I cut him off. “But I don’t like it. You’re risking too much.”

A tender smile lifted his handsome face before he replied, “Thank you for caring.”

My unremitting discontent came in the form of a disgruntled frown, which he decided to ignore.

“We’ll need to set up triage, gather the wounded. Jocelyn, can you handle it?”

He wasn’t going to concede that his role was too dangerous. Not here. Not now. Knowing that would be a failed argument, I accepted his request. “Yes, we’ll need to spread the word on where to find me.”

“Thank you.”

Jameson turned to address Theleo, his tone becoming more authoritative. “We’ll also need to call a meeting to discuss security and rebuilding concerns.”

Jetting into the air, Theleo immediately accepted the implied request with a nod.

While they focused their efforts elsewhere, within hours, I had set up a makeshift hospital in the center of the village, making it as accessible as possible for those who could travel. For anyone who couldn't, I went to them.

Throughout the morning, the act of healing others became draining; the cast being held over us by the Vires radically lessened my inherent ability. On several patients, those with open wounds gushing blood or with entire torsos of broken ribs, it took several attempts.

As the sound of coughing faded around me, I knew those who needed healing were lessening in number. The line out the door was shrinking, too.

But there was something more to this renewal, our rejuvenation. For those of us paying close enough attention – and I felt many were - it showed us that The Sevens could attack us, could destroy our homes, but they couldn’t keep us down. We could, and would, rise again. Each person who walked out the door proved it.

They tried to show their appreciation, insisting I accept a piece of jewelry from their wrist or, the village's most coveted item, plastic bait. I gently rejected them all.

“No,” I repeated numerous times. “I’m not the one you should thank. It should be Jameson.”

I may have helped contain their bleeding or mended their bones, but he had saved their lives.

He had devised the plan for Theleo to hide the village in the air during the attack; he had stayed behind to make sure no one was left in danger. He had risked his life to save them.

Jameson was the true savior.

No one seemed to grasp this; I wondered if he knew it himself.

I spread this message as best I could until, at some point well before sunrise, Isadora entered the hospital. She was weary, moving slowly, preserving the little energy she had left. Her face was still scuffed with dirt and her clothing hadn’t been changed despite the tear down her skirt. This was because there was something of more interest on her mind than her appearance, something she explained in one simple question. “Are you at all aware that you’re the best witch doctor any of us have ever seen?” she pondered.

Witch doctor
, I repeated silently in my mind. That term threw me a bit.

I liked Isadora and still would - even if she hadn’t helped save my life several months ago. But that didn’t remove my contempt for the term used to describe me.

“Witch doctor?” I asked this time out loud and not bothering to mask my disdain.

Why was it that I kept having unpleasant titles related to me? First Residue…and now Witch Doctor. I wondered what was next.

She took a seat, cautiously maneuvering her elderly body onto a crate serving as a chair, and went on to enlighten me.

“Witch doctors are uncommon, far more than you might think. Most reside in Africa or Europe; so seeing one here is a bit of an enigma. But it isn’t simply your presence that makes them curious. It’s the
way
you heal. Of those witch doctors who do exist, many use potions and salves, or carry staffs to conduct their ceremonies. You don’t need any of those materials and we notice it. What you do, how you do it…it’s never been done this way before.”

“Never?”

She slowly shook her head, allowing me time to register what she was telling me.

“A part of the reason why The Sevens have been after me for so long,” I surmised.

“One of the many,” she agreed. “They know how powerful you are, how much destruction you and Jameson will bring.”

I reflected on this while she observed me with concern. She clearly understood the position we were in.

“You both have been molded, crafted in preparation for your roles. Jameson, through a strict regimen. You, however, were given a very different lesson.” She gazed at me, as if in reflecting on some distant memory. “You were given the opportunity to understand the value of life so that you would fight to preserve it, because that is what will be needed of you. Your mother knew this, and she taught this lesson by distancing herself from you, by distancing you from all of us.”

Confused, I stated, “She sent me away to keep me safe.”

“Ah, but many reasons can lead to one decision.”

“So you’re saying she sent me away – also – to teach me?” On her nod, I pressed, “Teach me what?”

“That only through reacquiring what we have lost do we come to appreciate it. A harsh lesson, indeed.”

I had to admit, that would sound like something my mother would do if it weren’t so cruel. There had to be only one circumstance in which I could even deem that sort of method to be logical: to the extent that its result would only be justified if so much more hung in the balance. And so much more did. “You mean, my family, this world…,” I muttered. “…Jameson.”

I could see in her expression that I was correct, but she summed it up, in a way only a wise person can. “A life well lived, Jocelyn. You were taught to cherish a life well lived.”

And I did. I didn’t care about expensive cars or large houses. I wasn’t pinning for a closet full of the latest fashion trends, and my free time wasn’t spent shopping for the latest handbag. All I wanted was Jameson’s love and the safety and security for all of us to live in peace. I had attempted to give up my life so that Jameson could live to experience this himself. But, in spite of my failure, because of it maybe, I was now dedicated to ensuring the rest of our world would have the ability to enjoy this, too, without The Sevens’ repression.

In short, my mother had actually succeeded.

I leaned back, assessing Isadora. She had been confined to the village for most of her life, disconnected from the outside world and from my mother. How could she know all this? As if catching on to my thoughts, she changed the subject. “I thought that you would like to know the meeting has begun.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “To plan the security and rebuilding?”

She nodded, and I stood.

“I thought so,” she stated with a knowing smile. “My boat is tied up outside.”

“Thank you. Where are they meeting?”

She gave me directions and I headed out the door only to overhear her call out to me.

“Be careful,” she advised, and I understood just what she meant. My reasons for attending the meeting weren’t solely to stay informed. There was going to be staunch disagreement – and most of it would pertain to Jameson and me. Neither one of us were disillusioned about that.

“I will,” I called out, knowing she would hear me through the flimsy wooden walls.

I found her boat tied to the dock and made my way down the channel as quickly as I could. Even though the smoke had begun to clear, a menacing haze still clouded my view. No shacks were in flames any longer, but a good number of them were still smoldering, thickening the air with the stringent smell of burnt wood.

As I reached the outpost where the meeting was being held, a few coughs, from those ornery enough not to come by triage, drifted outside. Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to maneuvering Isadora’s boat. Without any proper training, I slammed the boat into the dock while trying to stop, consequently jarring and splintering the wood planks. The entire incident made me miss having the ability to levitate.