The Wanted (18 page)

“Calm down, you’re going to hyperventilate,” I warned. She nodded and tried to calm her breathing as the voices came closer.

Through the leaves, I could see black boots and black trousers with gold trim running down the sides. I held my breath and tried to silently shuffle backwards, bringing the shaking girl with me, until my back was pressed against the damp tree trunk. The boots seemed aimless, traipsing around and around in a circle until another shot was fired.

“Got it!” a man shouted gleefully. And then the boot moved away from us.

I let out a soft sigh. Elise was still shaking, her hands clamped together over a charm she wore around her neck.

We would have to stay there for a while, but the danger seemed to have passed for now.

“I think they’re gone,” I said, patting her arms with my hands awkwardly.

“I can’t, not again,” she stuttered.

“Huh?” I shook her arm and she jumped, the branches moving around us. “Elise, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

She relaxed her grip on the charm and sighed, relaxing her body against my chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “bad memories, you know?”

Yeah, I knew.

“Yeah…” It seemed like an invitation, like she wanted me to ask her what was wrong. I was vaguely curious, but also really uncomfortable with how close she was. The soldiers’ voices were softer; I could barely hear them anymore, just the occasional loud word. “What happened?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Oh you know, the usual, father murdered in front of you by soldiers because he’s a Spider, mother disowns you because she’s too scared to stay. Raised by strangers and constant, constant suspicion that you’re going to follow in his footsteps.”

I was impressed and saddened.

“Now that’s a story,” I whispered.

Her shoulder jiggled as she tried to suppress a nervous giggle. “I’m sure you have one too… Um… maybe you can tell it to me one day.”

“You don’t want to hear my story,” I replied, closing my eyes.

“If it made you the man you are today, then I certainly do,” she said, turning her head towards me.

She leaned closer, her big green eyes blinking shut as she closed the gap between our faces. I leaned away.

“Um… Elise, I…” I stammered, completely caught off guard.

She paused, a slight smile curling her lips.

“You’re not ready,” she stated, like she thought one day I would be. She turned away from me again, adjusting her position in my lap.

“I’ll never be ready for what you want, Elise. I’m in love with someone else,” I confessed. Someone who was lost to me, could be dead, could hate me for leaving.

Again, she giggled quietly. “Who said anything about love? I’m just looking for some fun, a distraction,” she said, in an almost aggressive tone.

I shook my head, though she couldn’t see me. “I can’t offer that either. The best I can do is friendship, all right?”

The leaves rustled again, but this time it was just the wind. She didn’t say anything for a long time.

“You’ll change your mind, but I can be your friend until then.” She was sure of herself. It reminded me of how I used to be, how convinced I was that Rosa loved me, even when she was constantly pushing me away. But I knew Elise was wrong about this one. I couldn’t change my mind about this.

The tip of a rifle poked into the bushes and I gasped, trying to put my body between the gun and Elise.

Gus’s gruff voice was a huge comfort. “You two coming out of there? Seems we’re going to have to be more vigilant from this point on.”

ROSA

What will be left of me when I get out of here?

I should say IF…

IF. The word hangs there like a rusty sign.

Other words hang in line behind it, like NEVER and BLOOD.

Trusting Denis could be a mistake. He was Grant’s son. And if he had anything of Grant in him, he might be desecrated on the inside, rotting charcoal lining his heart. But something whispered hoarsely against my ear,
Trust him.
Hope painted parts of him, even it was just the tips of his fingers, the edge of his nose. There was something there.

Denis cupped my elbow like a waiter holding a full bowl of soup, not wanting to spill what was left of me, as he accompanied me downstairs. Everything he said was a snatch, a snippet. Between cameras watching and listening, he fed me small lines, bite-sized morsels of information.

As he steered me towards the lift he spoke. “Focus on the background, not the action. I know you said you can’t
not
watch, that the noises are worse by themselves…” He whispered this over the top of my head, his eyes front. “So watch but don’t watch if you know what I mean. Pick a background image and count up the small details.”

I didn’t nod, but I listened. He had given me advice every morning for days, and it had worked some. Each time I returned to my room, I felt a little more broken and a little more sewn together. His other advice was to focus on the fact that he got away, that Joseph was somewhere out there, safe from Grant, from the Woodlands. I did that constantly, always, always, always.

The walk wasn’t long enough. I never had time to prepare myself.

“We’re here,” Denis announced, running his finger along the hood of one of the cars; the smudging noise was like streaks on a window. The privilege these machines represented was sickening.

I paused with my palm on the door.
One, two, three. Just breathe.
I muttered to the door, “Why are you helping me?”

Denis collapsed on the hood behind me, the red car springing up and down with his weight. “I’m not sure yet,” he said to his large, leather-clad feet.

The door opened and Mr. Hun grabbed my wrist without stepping into the light, gently pulling me inside. Fear murdered any thoughts about what Denis had just said. Now the exercise of not turning to vapor, to nothing, began. My energy had to be on keeping myself whole. At least on the outside.

Denis was waiting for me when I exited, sitting on the edge of a hood with his legs neatly crossed. His eyes were dark; he bowed his head, sorry at the sight of me. My legs had less wobble than three days ago but still, I struggled to stand and had to put my hand out to steady myself against the wall. Mr. Hun stepped out of the shadow of the door and looked up at Denis, who was suddenly standing by my side. “Tell your father we have made no progress, tell him…” Mr. Hun stroked his chin, white whiskers springing back under his fingers. I cringed. “Tell him I recommend termination or repurpose, though I don’t know what for.”

Denis’ grip tightened around my waist, his fingers pressing the emptiness of me, I was skin stretched over air.

“I’ll tell him, but you know my father. He doesn’t like to lose,” Denis said to the small, evil man.

Mr. Hun blinked up at Denis, who towered over him like a wavy weed. “Indeed,” he muttered and then stepped back into the dark room, the door swinging shut. I wondered if he ever went outside or if he spent his whole life in the dark doing dark things?

Before I could wonder too much, Denis was marching me back towards the elevator.

The word ‘termination’ slammed over my head like a dropped drawbridge. I stiffened, my legs locking. I turned up to him, begging with my eyes.

“Please. Take me outside,” I whispered, my lips trembling with hope. If I was going to die, I needed to be outside, one more time.

He shook his head as he took in my camisole and shredded skirt. “You’ll freeze to death.”

“I don’t care. Tell them it’s part of my torture. Please, I need to breathe real air.” I would beg if I had to.

He stood, statuesque, for the longest moment. His eyes on the ceiling as if he was counting nonexistent stars.
Stars.
Then he sighed deeply. “All right.”

We moved around the cars and out, out into the open. He steered me around the base of Grant’s house and into a garden, or more a frozen patch of grass surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges. The cold snapped at my skin, tiny shards of ice growing on the hairs of my arms. It felt so good. I breathed in and exhaled with the force of a hurricane. I savored every last particle. My bare feet dug into the grass. I cast my eyes up to the sky and took a mental picture, storing it with the others. The stars blinked down on me in sympathy. They were the same stars Orry slept under right now. The same stars Joseph was staring up at, wondering what had happened to me.

I wound my hand to the sky and tried to grab at them.

Denis coughed. “We have to go.”

Just one more breath.

I turned to him, his thick, spiky hair making his shadow look like a cactus. “Tell me something about yourself.”

He laughed, small, like a bird was caught in his throat. “I’m not good enough and I’m tired of trying.”

I wanted to laugh in his face. Did he expect pity from me? But then he moved closer to me and took my hand. “I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want
anyone
to live like this anymore.” He squeezed my hand and kept it there. “There are people I love who are lost to me too, Rosa.”

I gaped in response and continued to stare at the stars, not willing to give them up yet.

But too soon, he was pulling my hand and leading me back to the door. I wanted to ask him more questions but he was almost running, and he seemed uncomfortable already at what he had revealed.

We were silent in the elevator, silent as he walked me down the hall, deathly quiet until we passed my door and Denis put his hand on a handle that was not mine. He looked at me, pleading in his eyes, and said four words, “Give her a chance,” and then he pushed open the door.

My eyes were assaulted by colors, by the rainbow that had seemingly thrown up on every surface of the room. Two single beds sat in the center and cross-legged on the tip of one sat Judith.

“Welcome, roomie,” she sang, her voice like violins used as bats, as she bounced off her bed and came running towards me. I put my hands up to my face in defense, crossing them over each other as if she were, in fact, the devil.

Judith stopped short and whined to her older brother. “Denny, you said she would be nice to me.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing and peeked out from behind my arms. Denny?

Denis chuckled and pushed me deeper into the room. My feet bit into the carpet in resistance.
Was this my new form of torture?
I craned my head back to look at Denis, my eyes questioning.

“Dad wants you in here with Judy because you keep destroying the cameras,” he said with a stupid smile on his face that I wanted to remove with sandpaper.

“I’m supposed to keep ma eye on you,” Judith drawled, pointing to her eye and pulling down the bottom lid with her orange-tinted finger, her eyeball juicy and red. Miming it out like I was too stupid to understand the words.

I grimaced. “I’d rather they threw me in prison.”

“Well, that’s not vaaarry nice.” Judith shook her head and pulled a pillow to her chest, hugging it like a teddy bear. I wanted to slap her pouting lips off her face.

Something vibrated in Denis’ pocket, a patch of light appearing through the material. He patted it but didn’t take it out. “I have to go,” he said apologetically.

He didn’t say goodbye, but then, he never did.

The door closed, sealing me in a bad dream like the lid closing over an airtight container. The air closed in around me, a cloud heavy with the smell of perfume and hair products. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and took a step closer.

Judith’s room wasn’t real. She didn’t seem real. Her perfect hair, her plastic-looking face. Perching on the edge of the bed, she watched me investigate my new living arrangements. She didn’t say anything but she made a lot of noise, huffing, puffing, and sighing every time I touched something.

I made my way to her dresser, tapping my finger along the different bottles of perfume, makeup, and nail polish. Pausing on a white pill bottle, I picked it up to read the label.

“That’s fer ma skin,” Judith said.

I shook it like a maraca. “Is that why you’re so orange?”

She pulled back, her hand to her heart like I’d wounded her.

I put the bottle down and pick up a lip gloss, rolling the sparkly pink tube between my fingers.

“You want to try it?” she asked, pinging me with the stretched rubber band that was her voice. I shook my head, a resounding no. “You know, this isn’t my idea of fun either. You could make a little efferrrt.”

I slammed the tube on the dresser, and she jumped. Her whole body pulling in like a startled slater bug. It seemed over the top. I watched her curiously, trying to decide what she was. Victim or foe. I wasn’t sure.

I vibrated with the want to shout at her, pull her hair, make her understand what
my
life was. Fun didn’t factor into it right now. The word was offensive to me. But I held it in. I needed to watch her, understand her more.

I simply said, “Please don’t talk to me about fun. It doesn’t exist for me.”

She blinked up at me, uncomprehending. And then a smile spread across her face, her thin lips shining artificially with glittery particles. “Of course not, silly, I wasn’t talking about you,” she said, her voice and her thin arms shaking as she spoke.

Was this some kind of show-me-who’s-boss kind of situation? Was she the dominant creature I was supposed to submit to? She didn’t even sound like she meant those words. Denis said give her a chance, but I couldn’t see why I should. Not yet anyway. I rounded the bed, eyeing the distance between us. What was Grant up to? I searched the corners for cameras.

“There are no cameras in here. Dad trusts me,” Judith bragged.

I wanted to cover my ears. “But he doesn’t trust
me
… What’s to stop me from holding you hostage, threatening your life to save my own?”