Ash (22 page)

I
opened my eyes. Sunlight poured through my window, and I realized it was well into the afternoon. I rolled to one side and groaned as a stab of pain traveled up my side. I squeezed my eyes closed once more trying to stall the inevitable, but it was useless. I was awake and yesterday’s horrors were already stampeding through my mind. Aldan was dead. Link was in jail. And I’d broken curfew in the Tombs with a group of Revenants.

My walk home after leaving Thom had been uneventful, and my house silent as I’d snuck up the trellis and into my room. I’d never climbed it before, but I’d seen Aldan do it all the time. I always thought he was coming and going from late night loop race practices, but maybe he’d been doing a lot more than he’d let on. I’d lain in bed for hours thinking through everything that had happened. Oena had told me she’d answered all the questions she could, but she obviously knew more than she was saying. I wanted to kick myself for not asking her more when I had the chance.

I forced myself to get out of bed and go through the motions of starting my day. I knew I wouldn’t be any help at the cells, but I’d go crazy sitting at home. There was no way I was going to school, not even for the tail end, but I needed to do something. I thought back to the graffiti at the practice tracks and knew what to do.

I grabbed the oldest, rattiest t-shirt and shorts I could find – both Aldan’s hand me downs. The shirt was on the small side—he’d probably last worn it a decade ago. I pulled it on over my head, ignoring the giant hole in the sleeve. The shorts were from that era as well and a little too short, but my wardrobe was limited, and I was going to be cleaning. I couldn’t afford to mess up my better outfits. I slipped on a pair of sneakers and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Then I stopped off in the kitchen to dig through the mess under the sink. I grabbed some cleaner, a water spray bottle, a bristle sponge and a couple of rags and threw them in my backpack.

As I turned to go I noticed a large bouquet of purple tulips sitting on the end table by the door. It was a nice, unexpected gesture. I was surprised anyone would have thought to send something to a destiny breaker’s family. I leaned over the flowers and inhaled deeply. A sweet, slightly fruity scent filled my nose—the flowers somehow even smelled purple. I tapped the card and read the inscription: My thoughts are with you in this difficult time. Sincerely, Madden Sumner.

Seriously? What was she trying to prove? The last thing any of us needed was Madden’s pity. I picked the vase up and marched over to the trash compactor. I paused as I held the vase over it. Knowing my mom, she’d probably want to dry the flowers for posterity. I didn’t care. I dropped the arrangement in and kicked the lid closed, smiling as the compactor did what it did best—smashed things.

I rushed to shut off the machine as my dad walked in. “Um, I was just—”

“It’s okay.” He came over and kissed the top of my head. “The smell was driving me nuts, too.”

I let my head rest on his shoulder for a moment.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “Okay, I guess.”

“I heard you and your mom had a pretty big fight last night,” he said, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said. “She took too much Xalan. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.” I turned from him, rummaging through the cabinet to find a breakfast bar. I so didn’t feel like talking about this.

“Just do me a favor and go easy on her, okay?” My dad furrowed his brow. “Losing Aldan brought back some hard memories from the Event. She snapped last night. She didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

I sighed. “The Event was thirty-nine years ago, Dad. I get that it was a really horrible time, but it’s not fair to blame everything on that.”

“I know, but what she went through…” He took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses onto his shirt. “That time haunts everyone who lived through it. But your mom had it worse than most. Both my parents survived. They kept me safe during the riots, they protected me from what was going on outside. But your Mom…” His voice caught in his throat. “She saw it all. She watched her whole family die in front of her. Her parents. Her sisters. She was seven, Dax. She stayed at home for days hoping one of them would wake up. Finally she left, wandering through the streets for weeks on her own before an orphanage took her in. You can’t imagine what it was like. Death in every direction. The smell of decay so thick in the air that you could barely breath. It took years for all of the bodies to get removed from the city.”

I shivered. I studied the Event in school, but we rarely talked about it at home. Especially not my mother’s history. It had always been hard to picture, but my dad’s description seemed somehow more real now that I’d actually been to the Tombs. “I really am sorry about that,” I said.

“Me too. What your mother went through is part of why she reacted so violently last night. You know how strict she is about the system. The orphanage preached complete dedication to the Seven. Enforced destiny was the only way to avoid another Event in their minds.” My dad gave me a sad smile. “Not only did your mom see yet another family member—her son—die right in front of her yesterday, but she was raised—like all of us—to believe that destiny breakers should be removed. Only, this time the destiny breaker was Aldan. He’s our son, but to your mother, he’s also a traitor. She can’t bridge those two ideas.”

“Do you think he’s a traitor?”

My dad paused. “No. I don’t. My destiny is to study Shakespeare. I grew up on books, many that are no longer available, that talked about what life was like before the Event. A time when people shaped their own future. If nothing else, it’s taught me that human nature is about asking questions and challenging beliefs. Aldan was true to his nature. And Link is doing the same. It doesn’t mean I’m not heading back to the cells to talk him into doing it in a healthier way.”

I nodded, relieved. But there was something I still wanted to know.

“Dad, do you still believe in the system?” I knew it was a question that could get us both in trouble, but the more I was learning, the more unsure I was becoming. I wondered if I was the only one.

My father’s face twisted, a world of emotions flickering in his eyes. “It keeps us safe. But that safety comes at a high cost… too high, maybe.” His voice faltered and lowered to almost a whisper. “‘Men at some times are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves…’”

“What?”

“Just more Shakespeare.” He clapped his hands together. “Okay, enough talk. Why don’t you come with me to see Link?” he asked. “Your mom and brothers are all there.”

I thought about it, but the idea of being cooped up in the waiting room knowing I wouldn’t be able to go in and see my brother sounded horrible. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to be alone,” I said. “I’ll meet you guys back here later, okay?”

“Of course,” he said. “You know where we’ll be if you need anything.”

We said our goodbyes, and I headed out into the afternoon, adding our conversation to the growing list of impossible things that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.

The air was warm, but still crisp. I kept my head down as I walked, zigzagging my way through the rings, trying to avoid as many people as I could. I stopped when I finally reached the practice loop. The graffiti on the sign was still there, even more harsh in the afternoon sun.

The gate on the fence was open. I knew I shut it last night, which meant I probably had company now. I peeked inside. There was one person lying across the yard in the grass, his hands behind his head, staring up at the track.

Theron.

He was in our usual spot. I felt myself start to blush, thinking about what I must look like in my ratty hand me downs. I almost bolted, but Theron looked up at that moment, almost as if he could sense me standing there.

“Dax?” he called out. He scrambled to his feet and jogged across the lawn.

I tugged on my shorts, trying to pull them down. Why, I wondered, had I not at least brushed my hair, or something. Laira was going to love lecturing me about this when I told her.

“Um, hey,” I said as he stopped in front of me.

“Hey.”

He stepped forward to give me a hug, but I, ever so suave when it came to Theron, stiffened and looked down at my shoes, causing him to pause in his tracks.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he said, breaking the awkwardness. “How are you doing?”

“Well, you know...” I trailed off.

“Yeah,” he said. Then softer. “Yeah, I do.” Then he reached out, this time not stopping, and pulled me toward him, enveloping me in his arms. I let myself hug him back for a few seconds, resting my head against his chest as I inhaled his scent—it was his own peculiar mix of sunshine and New City and boy.

“I’m sorry, Dax.”

I pulled away and looked at Theron. Really looked at him. He was pale, and his usual flop of red hair stood up in a disheveled disaster. His eyes were puffy, and dark circles smudged half moons underneath them. Theron—eternal comedian, prankster, and lover of fun—looked horrible. I thought about reaching out for him again, burying myself inside of his arms and staying there for a good long while. Instead I took my backpack off and unzipped it. We both needed something else to focus on.

“You saw the graffiti outside?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, voice turning sour. “Hard to miss.”

I pulled out my cleaning supplies. “I thought I’d get rid of it. Want to help?”

He flashed me that disarming grin of his, the one that you couldn’t help but smile back at. “Definitely.”

I held out a rag toward him and he took it, grazing my fingers as he did so. He let them linger for a second and then took my hand. “Come on,” he said and led me to the sign. I was relieved my feet still remembered how to move, because I certainly couldn’t think of anything to say at the moment. Theron Oliver was holding my hand. I tried to act casual, like it was no big deal.

“Looks like we have our work cut out for us,” he said, eyeing the sign. To my disappointment he dropped my hand. He was just being friendly, I reminded myself. The gesture didn’t mean anything. He was Theron, he made everybody feel important. “I guess we should get started.”

The afternoon sun shone down on us as we began to clean. On most days, the area would have been packed. The track brought plenty of other racers, and whenever Aldan practiced, there were always fans that would gather. I guessed it would take a little time before people came back, and for that, I was strangely happy. For the time being, this space belonged to Theron and me. And Aldan. The hologram of him cresting the final loop and sailing past the finish line played over and over between us.

I could feel my muscles working as I pressed into the sign, rubbing away at the letters. It felt good to remove some of the hate. I fell into a kind of rhythm. Spray, scrub up, down, up, down, repeat. Theron and I didn’t talk, but it was a comfortable silence. The kind that didn’t need to be filled with meaningless chitchat. Behind us I could hear the swish of the monorail in the distance. Wind rustled through the leaves overhead, birds chattered, and soon Theron joined them, whistling an odd little song. It wasn’t happy, exactly. But it wasn’t sad, either. Bittersweet, I guessed, just like this afternoon. This would probably be last time the two of us would see each other outside of Spectrum.

It took about thirty minutes until I’d almost finished my section of the sign. There was just a small portion over my head that I couldn’t quite reach.

“Let me help you,” Theron said and reached up over my head. “See, it’s a good thing you ran into me.”

“I could have gotten it,” I said, and then cursed myself for not making my tone flirtier.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s simple. Watch,” I wound up my arm and threw the rag at the sign. It hit it all right, but then bounced off, falling right onto Theron’s head. “I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear,” I said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Well, that might not have been,” he said, “but this is.” He then took the water bottle and sprayed it at me.

“No you didn’t! This is war, Mr. Oliver. Get ready,” I said, and went to grab my weapon of choice—the rag closest to me. Only as I stepped back, I tripped over my backpack and fell, hitting the ground with a thump.

So much for being cute and flirty. Pure mortification rippled through my body.

He stepped closer in concern. “Dax, are you okay?”

Then I surprised myself. I started cracking up. Uncontrollably. I just fell on my butt in front of Theron. A week ago, nothing would have seemed worse. But now, after everything I’d been through, this was nothing. This could be fixed. I picked up the rag and snapped it at him. “Gotcha!” I yelled and sprung to my feet.

He looked at me, incredulous, and then started cracking up too, trying to snap me back with his own rag. I jumped out of the way just in time.

For the next few minutes we were running around and laughing and forgetting everything, until I backed up into the hologram. The image of Aldan literally hit me in the face. And with that, the moment was lost.