The Dead-Tossed Waves (22 page)

And then I start running. Away from the shore, through the fence and over the dunes. I sprint up the path through the woods, the air under the trees thick and humid. Once I reach the town I cut around the edge, everything a blur as I weave toward where Cira’s being kept.

But I’m fighting against streams of people pouring from their houses and thronging toward the Barrier. They swell around me, the current too strong to resist and I’m carried along with them toward the main gate.

The Militia, some of whom were up all night at the lighthouse working on the beach, stand along the Barrier, tall and proud in their black uniforms. Their expressions are so sedate, so rigid and unblinking as they stand at attention, that it’s hard to remember how they were over the past few days: dripping with rain, raucous as they shared bawdy jokes,
telling tales of their kills. I pull strands of hair from my braid and let it fall into my face, hoping to avoid making eye contact with any of them. Hoping to somehow stay beyond their reach.

Everyone’s there, the entire town shuffling and mumbling. And when the bell rings three times everyone hushes. The gate groans open. And the crowd cheers. I walk forward slowly and it’s as though no one can see me. As if I’m nothing to them. I hear the thump of a drum, the blare of a horn.

The familiar sound hits deep in my stomach. The march of the Protectorate, the tune we’re taught as children and sing every morning before classes. My lips move automatically, the words rote. And I find myself singing along as the Recruiters march into town.

W
hile everyone else celebrates the arrival of the Recruiters, I slip away from the crowd and into the basement of the Council House to visit Cira before they take her away. She sits on a bench tucked into a corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, her cheek resting on them. She’s thin and drained and I can already tell she’s given up. Seeing her so small and scared, I can’t believe she could be the same girl from the river. The girl who was willing to do anything. Who was so brave and bold in the face of everything in our world.

I want to grab her hands and drag her to the river and throw her in. I want her to remember her own strength. I want to ask her how I’m supposed to believe in superheroes if she won’t believe in herself.

I clutch the figurine she gave me under my shirt. Most of all I want her to promise me that she’ll stay alive and fight.

Finally she sees me and her eyes light up. When she gets closer she slips her hands around the bars and I wrap my hands over hers. “Catcher?” she whispers.

I drop my gaze to the ground, wishing I could somehow avoid this conversation. Not wanting to heap any more pain on her. I don’t know how to tell her I’ve failed them both.

I shake my head and I can see everything crumble inside her. I squeeze her wrist tightly but it’s a useless gesture. She’s not the same. Her eyes are dim and dull.

“Cira,” I hiss through my teeth. “Cira, look at me!” I’m desperate to find some way to help her, to give her something to hold on to.

She barely focuses on me. It’s as if she’s underwater, being dragged down into the depths by the Mudo, but she’s not even struggling.

“You can’t give up,” I tell her. I think back on all we’ve been through together, all the times she’s been the strong one. The person I wanted to be. I don’t know how to bring that back in her and it makes me feel useless.

When she talks she barely moves her lips, as if even that isn’t worth the effort. “Why not?” she asks. “Why bother with it anymore?”

I open my mouth to protest but I see a small spark ignite in her eye, an ember of who I know she can be.

“No, really, Gabry. Tell me what’s worth it. Tell me what we’re doing just barely clinging on here. Why? Tell me what’s the difference between you or me and the Mudo?”

“The Recruiters isn’t a death sentence,” I tell her, echoing the words that Elias said to me only a few days ago.

“He really liked you, you know?” she says, and for a moment I’m confused, Elias still flooding my mind and heat straining up my neck. “He used to talk about you all the time. Ever since we first met you that day at the lighthouse.” She pauses. “We would have been sisters.”

Pain sears at my chest, thoughts of Catcher and what could have been flashing through my mind.

“I wish I could take it back,” I tell her. “I wish I could go back to that night and stop us from climbing the Barrier.”

She shrugs one shoulder and lets it fall. “I used to think that,” she says. “When they first caught us I thought that. But now I don’t know.” She looks around at the others pressed against the bars. At the families being torn apart. “Sometimes I think it’s just inevitable.”

A thousand protests come to my lips but she presses a finger against them before I can say anything. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She smiles. “You know, I like to think of you out there, standing in the lighthouse. I like to think that I’ll be able to see it from wherever they send us. That I’ll see that flash of light on the horizon and I’ll think about you and Catcher and that maybe it will make fighting that stupid war worth it.”

I can feel my cheeks flush. “It’s not fair that I’m out here,” I tell her, my heart thudding at the words but knowing I have to say this. “I should be in there with you; I should go with you—”

She cuts me off. “Someone has to stay behind,” she says.

I pull the superhero figurine from around my neck and pass it to her. “Please don’t give up,” I tell her again.

She looks at it dangling from my fingers. “There’s no such thing as heroes,” she says, pushing the necklace back at me. “Not anymore.”

A familiar anger starts to prickle up my spine. “Why didn’t you come back with me that night? I called to you. We both could have run. You’d be safe now.”

She looks at me. “I’m not you, Gabrielle.” Her voice is soft,
as if she senses my anguish. She touches the little figurine, causing it to sway back and forth. “You’ve always been your own person. And me …” She smiles a little bit but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m only as good as those around me.”

I try to understand but I don’t. “Cira—” I begin to protest, but she pulls me into a hug the best she can through the bars and I think about all the things we’ve shared in our lives. All the ways we’ve taken care of each other. I never thought I would have to face anything without her; I never thought we’d be apart.

Holding her, I realize again just how much I’m going to miss her and how much strength she’s given me. I’m terrified that I won’t be able to find that strength on my own.

The Militiaman announces that it’s time for us to leave. As I walk out I glance back over my shoulder and see my best friend standing there with the others, ready for the river to whisk her away.

I don’t bother with the Council ceremony honoring the Recruiters. My mind is too full for me to be able to go along with the show and pretend I respect them, so I slink around the edge of the cheering crowd as the Recruiters parade into the town square. Their black uniforms shimmer in the light, their eyes hidden by hats pulled low against the sun.

Their show of force over, the Militiamen have left their posts along the Barrier to join the festivities, only a few remaining behind to guard the gate. I realize that they’ve inadvertently given me a chance to get to Catcher and I breathe a little easier.

I’m trying to calm my jitters, to remind myself that I can do this—I can make it over the Barrier and through the ruins
to Catcher this one last time. Just to tell him good-bye. Just to make sure that if he’s turned there’s someone to end it so that he isn’t forced to exist as a monster.

As I walk through the empty streets I hear the weaving echo of my footsteps bouncing off the walls around me and my heart forcing the blood through my body. There’s a spot near where the Barrier curves away from the town, a part almost hidden from the constant Militia presence at the gate. It’s the same place we crossed that night almost a week ago. I stand for a moment tucked into the shadow of the wall, gathering my courage, and creep my way around the turn.

The sun is bright and hot, the cicadas a loud buzz that seems to build inside my chest. I take a deep breath and press my fingers into the gaps of the sturdy logs, not caring that it’s daylight. Not caring what happens if I’m caught. Just needing to take one last gasp of the person I could be if I didn’t fear so much.

All I can think is that if I climb fast enough I can save him. That maybe Catcher is still alive.

I don’t even hear the footsteps, don’t hear the breathing until too late. A body slams me face-first against the Barrier with such force that I lose my breath. My world explodes with terror and shock. I gasp at nothing, willing my body to inhale, when I’m turned around, my back thrust against the wall.

“And to think there was a moment when I was going to trust you,” Daniel says, gripping my throat. I try to swallow but can’t. His hand smells like sweat and mildew. “I’ve been following you, Gabrielle. Wondering when you’d mess up.” He pushes hard against me, his breath hot in my face. I squirm and struggle but he only holds me tighter, splinters from the Barrier digging through my shirt and into my skin.

Panic explodes in my head and I swallow again and again, trying to tamp it down.

“I always figured you’d been out there with the others that night,” he says. Squeezing me for emphasis. “You and your friends, thinking the rules don’t apply to you. Thinking you can get away with whatever you want.”

I shake my head. I want to tell him that I always follow the rules but he doesn’t let me speak.

He leans in close, his body almost crushing mine, pressing me hard into the wall. “I watched you, you know,” he says. “I watched the way you threw yourself at Catcher this summer. The way you’d pretend that you were scared just so he’d put his hands on you.” I close my eyes against his breath and try to turn my head away but I can’t escape him.

“Where is he now, huh?” He shakes me and I try to think of what to say, how to get him to leave me alone and let me breathe. But sparks are firing in front of my eyes and my chest aches for freedom. I need space. I need air. I need him to let me go. I need to get away.

I tense my arm, wanting to shove him off, but he’s faster. His fingers twist around my wrist, his thumb digging into the bones until my hand goes numb.

Suddenly I’m not sure I’m going to be able to escape him and the panic rises high in my chest. He’s in complete control of me and in this shadowy nook there’s no one who will see us, no one who can come to my rescue. We’re alone out here in the shadow of the Barrier. Dread begins to buzz along my skin, terror at what he could be planning for me.

As if he can read my mind he cracks a smile. “Where’s your little boy now? Not here to rescue you, huh?” He laughs and I gag, my chest convulsing, my vision blurring. “I’m guessing he’s still out there. Too afraid to come back. Too much of a coward to face service with the Recruiters.” My body flares
hot, my muscles rigid and weak at the same time. I can’t get enough air. I can’t focus on what he’s saying. I’m about to pass out but I cling to the scraps of awareness, afraid of what would happen if I were totally defenseless.

His grip tightens around my wrist, his bad leg pressed against the outside of my thigh. Everything in me revolts against his touch. “You should hear Cira and the others cry. Sometimes when I’m on duty guarding them, I like to go and listen to them pity themselves. You ask me, they got better than they deserve for putting us all in danger like that.”

I can only move my mouth, no sound will come out.

“Stop,” I try to say. “Stop.” All I can think is that I have to breathe or I’ll pass out.

His mouth hovers over mine as his fingers loosen on my neck so that I’m forced to suck in huge lungfuls of air. I choke and cough as my body tries to adjust to the sudden release of pressure and he just smiles.

My nose runs and tears clog my eyes. My vision wavers, my throat burning sore with each sucking inhale. “Here’s the thing,” he says, drumming his fingers against my neck. “With all of them going, that doesn’t leave many of us here. Just you and me, really. And I figure pretty soon you’ll be wanting a husband. Someone who’s a true citizen of the town so that no one can cast doubt on your loyalty. No one will wonder at the rumors that you used to sneak past the Barrier.”