Autumn in the City of Lights (29 page)

“Good, I see you’re filling everyone in about us,” she said, sitting down at the table. “Did I miss anything?”

“Us?” Connie repeated. “You too, Lydia? I don’t understand what’s happening here.”

“I see I haven’t missed much,” Lydia retorted. “Please continue.”

“Can someone
please
start explaining?” Connie nearly shouted through her teeth.

“Karl, Lydia, Wingfield and myself are part of a group called The University,” Grey started. “We’re not, uh... we’re not local.”

Connie pressed her palms against her forehead.

“We’re like anthroplogists. We observe and study other cultures. Cultures found on other... other planets,” Grey stammered, looking to Wingfield for help.

“Ohhhh,” Connie moaned, leaning against the counter again. Daniel patted her shoulder.

“I know,” he said. “I still have trouble believing it.”

“Uhhhhh,” Connie moaned again, clutching her stomach.

Grey leapt to his feet and rushed to her side. I stood, too, tipping over the bench I’d been sitting on.

“Daniel, go get the wagon ready,” Grey said, helping Connie to sit down. “We should get her to the hospital. She’s having contractions.”

Daniel stood there, staring at Connie, his eyes unfocused.

“Daniel!” Grey said, raising his voice. “The wagon!”

Daniel snapped out of his daze and darted through the open back door, awkwardly vaulting over my tomato plants in his rush.

At that moment, Connie grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be the front of Ben’s shirt, and yanked him close to her while she howled in pain.

“Grey, what can I do?” I asked, when Connie had released a terrified looking Ben.

“Connie packed a bag for the hospital. It should be in her room, will you—”

“But there’s no cure,” Connie panted, tears pouring down her cheeks. “The baby can’t come yet.”

Grey took Connie’s hands in his. “It’ll be okay, Connie, I promise.”

“But he’ll die.”  Connie squeezed her eyes shut, and more tears fell to her bulging stomach, bypassing her flushed cheeks.

I don’t know when Rissi came to stand by me, but I suddenly realized we were clutching each other.

“I don’t want the baby to die, Autumn,” she whispered to me.

I pictured Connie looking over the small, still bodies of her three sons who had been taken by the Crimson Fever. That seemed like a lifetime ago. But the wounds were still too fresh to be forgotten for long. She couldn’t lose another baby.

I pulled away from Rissi, rushing to the bedroom Connie shared with Daniel. I found her small suitcase by the door.

When I arrived back in the kitchen, everyone was quiet, staring at Lydia.

“Can you
do
that?” Ben asked.

“Do what?” I asked.

Lydia looked up at Wingfield. “This falls underneath the circumstances we discussed before coming here. The University doesn’t get involved with the goings on of other planets for very good reasons. However, Karl’s actions are our responsibility, and the threat Connie’s baby is under right now is a direct result of that.”

“The young mother-to-be should bear her child in safety at The University.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at Lydia. “That
is
why I agreed to come, Lydia... to repair the damage that one of our own inflicted on this vulnerable place.”

“Thank you, Wingfield,” Grey said, helping Connie to her feet.

“No way,” Daniel said, stepping in front of Connie.  “Can’t you just go get a cure or something and come back? Give it to the baby here?”

“It will be safer to do in our labs,” Lydia explained. “Unless you prefer to risk the lives of your wife and child?”

“She’s right,” Grey said. “The virus will go to work as soon as the baby draws his first breath. I don’t want to take that chance if we don’t have to.”

“I’ll go,” Connie said quickly. She was clutching her stomach again and looking pale.

“Connie, I don’t know if... ”

“Daniel, it’s his only chance,” Connie puffed.

“Stop arguing and just breathe,” Grey instructed, studying the clock on the kitchen wall. “Her contractions are a few minutes apart, so if we’re going to move her to The University, now would be a good time.”

“Wait, wait, please. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”  Daniel took Connie’s hands as she stood. “You don’t know anything about this place or what they’re going to do to you or our baby.”

“It’s a simple decision that can be answered with one question,” Connie said. “Do you trust Grey?”

Daniel paused, looking at Grey. His shoulders fell. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“So do I. And I don’t care if he’s some kind of space traveler, a fish, or a turnip! As long as he says he can save our son’s life, I’m going wherever he tells me to! Now let’s go!”

“Ben should come, too,” Grey said.

Ben froze. “Why? Why me?” he asked nervously. “I mean... what can I do?”

“I think we’ll find a use for you,” Grey said, turning to Wingfield, communicating something with just his eyes.

“Yes, the boy can come,” Wingfield acquiesced after a moment. “Not to worry, though, Ben. We’ll return you in a timely manner.”

Ben looked at his sister. “Riss, are you okay with this?”

“Bring me back a souvenir,” she said, hugging him. “Gosh, you’re so smart, even
aliens
want your help.”

Grey pulled me out onto the porch before I could ask the question that had been burning in my throat since realizing what was going on.

“You’re going to stay here,” he insisted. “Eat. Sleep. Lydia will stay with you and Rissi.”

“So everyone else gets to go and I don’t?”  I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to be left behind.

“Connie, Daniel, and Ben are going out of necessity.”

I was confused but knew there wasn’t time to question Grey further. I sighed, conceding. “Good luck,” I whispered, hugging him and hating I had to let him go so soon.

“I’ll be back with news as soon as there is any,” he promised, then he kissed me. When I opened my eyes, I expected him to be gone. But he was still there, smiling down at me. His eyes were as blue and bright as I’d ever seen them.

*     *     *

One week later, I was shoulder deep in my tomato plants, pulling the infernal weeds that always seemed to grow back overnight. The sun warmed the back of my neck, and I paused to sit back on my heels and turn my face up to the brightness. It was the kind of day when Sarah would have begged me to go to the beach with her. We’d have stuffed a bag with towels and sunscreen, donned our favorite suits, and walked the four miles up the coast from The Water Tower to the Santa Monica Pier. We’d buy onion rings and churros and walk to the end of the pier, sharing a pair of earbuds between us, listening to whatever song we’d become obsessed with that week. Then we’d sit on the beach until the sun was one hand’s length from the horizon. We’d head home but inevitably get distracted by a vendor selling jewelry or snow cones and end up running the rest of the way, trying to get home before the streetlights popped on for the night.

It occurred to me I’d never get to do exactly that again. With Sarah, or anyone else. But I didn’t want to replace or mimic my friendship with her anyway. It had been too precious. It was the same with my parents. Connie and Daniel could never replace them. And no one would ever be a Tess to me again. Or a Shad. They would forever be trapped in my past, no longer part of my present or future.

I didn’t want to be okay with that. But I eventually needed to be. Now that Karl was gone, I could see the future more clearly, as if a light up ahead had been turned on.

I attacked the weeds with my trowel again and wondered what Grey was doing at that moment.

After he’d left with Connie, Daniel, Ben, and Wingfield, I’d wanted to wait for news but couldn’t keep my eyes open, so Lydia sent me to bed. I woke eighteen hours later, and Lydia told me Connie’s baby had arrived safe and sound. It was a boy.

Over the past week, I’d done nothing but eat, sleep, and play games with Rissi. Lydia wouldn’t allow me to go for a ride on Snicket or even leave the house until I had my full strength back, so Rissi had been running around New Burbank, collecting news on those in the hospital, and the new peace talks beginning with what was left of the leaderless Front.

There had also been a number of visitors, but Lydia the guard dog hadn’t let anyone past the front gate. Not surprisingly, the residents of New Burbank, and also some ex-Front members, were anxious for answers. I didn’t feel right answering their questions, and Lydia refused to, so we agreed to wait until everyone had returned from The University.

“Autumn!”

I looked up quickly at the sound of Rissi’s voice. She bounded outside from the kitchen.

“Are they here?!” I asked, my heart jumping into my throat as I leapt to my feet.

“No... just wondering if you’d seen them yet.”

I slumped back down in the dirt. This was the third time she’d done that.

“Yes, they’re back,” I called out sarcastically. “But I thought I’d stay out here and yank weeds out of the ground.”

“Not funny!” she said, pouting and going back inside.

Five minutes later, the back door opened again.

“Autumn?”

“
What
?!” I demanded, throwing a fistful of weeds over my shoulder.

“You certainly are cranky this afternoon,” Lydia said, appearing next to my garden. “You need to eat something now. There’s more chowder.”

I swallowed, wondering for the millionth time if there was a way I could make Lydia’s chowder disappear without her realizing it had been thrown away. She might have made a decent doctor, and she might be a brilliant member of The University, but she couldn’t cook to save her life.

“Sorry, Lydia. I thought you were Rissi. She’s been driving me crazy this afternoon.”

“It’s fine,” she said, emotionless. “Stop what you’re doing and come eat. I want to put at least two more pounds on you this week. And two more the week after that. Maybe by then your face will have improved, too.”

Keeping my back to her as I worked, I rolled my eyes. Lydia’s bedside manner hadn’t improved in the months she’d been gone. But she had a point. The bruises on my face and body had turned a nasty yellow green that reminded me of split pea soup, and while I’d gained a couple pounds in the last week, my clothes still hung awkwardly on my bones.

“Let me just get through a little more, and then I’ll come in to eat,” I promised.

“Fine.” Lydia turned and began to walk back to the house, and I paused in my weeding.

“Lydia?”

“Yes?”

I twirled my trowel in the dirt and studied the tomato dangling nearest me. I’d been wanting to ask this for days but hadn’t the courage. I also didn’t want to admit to myself that I cared.

“What... what’s going to happen to Karl? What will The University do to him?”

Lydia was silent for a moment, and when I looked up, I couldn’t read her face.

“He’ll be tried,” she said simply.

“Is that like what happens here? Like our court system?”

She nodded. “It’s very similar.”

“What happens if he’s found guilty? Does The University... do they have... believe in... ”

“Capital punishment?” she finished for me.

I nodded.

“No. Crime is extremely rare within The University. If he’s found guilty, he’ll be imprisoned and will do menial work.”

“But how will they hold him? He can project.”

“Do you remember back at the movie lot, during the fighting, when Karl tried to project away, but kept re-appearing in nearly the same area?”

“Yes.”

“That same principle is applied to the area where he’s being kept. He’ll never leave the ship again.”

“How did you know where to find us? The last time you were with us was in Hoover.”

“We knew Karl was based in LA and came here to collect him. When we went to his headquarters at the warehouse on the Westside, we heard of his whereabouts on their radios.”

I nodded. This was the most Lydia and I had said to each other all week. It wasn’t that we disliked each other. She just wasn’t much of a conversationalist. That’s why it surprised me when she continued speaking now.

“I’m sorry events escalated here so fast. I wish we’d been able to arrive before more lives were lost.” She stopped. A glimmer of understanding lit up inside me. She was talking about Shad.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you got them to come.”

“It needed to be done.”  Her expression didn’t change, but I could sense relief in her posture. As if we’d blame her for not working faster to save Shad. Realizing she felt responsible, even though she hadn’t been at fault, made me like her more.

“Thank you, Lydia,” I said, squinting up at her.

A smile slowly spread across her face. I laughed at the sight. But then like a plug being pulled from a drain, it was gone.

“What?” she insisted.

“I’ve just never seen you smile, that’s all,” I explained. “You should do it more often.”

“Oh,” she said, then motioned to the garden. “Do you need help?”

“If you don’t mind getting dirt on your hands,” I said, handing her my trowel.

She accepted it, and without a word, she knelt down in the dirt beside me and began working.

Moments later, footsteps pounded across the porch.

“Autumn!”

“Rissi, if you don’t chill out, I’m going to come inside and make you read aloud from the dictionary until you fall sleep!”

“But Autumn—”

“You are
not
allowed to speak again until they’re home, understand? You’re driving me nuts!”

“But they’re back!”

I looked up. Rissi stood on the porch, one hand on her hip and an annoyed expression on her face.

“They’re back?”

“That’s what I said! They just appeared out front!”  She turned and ran inside.

I scrambled up from the ground and tore around the side of the house. Connie was the first one I saw, her blonde ponytail shining in the sunlight, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She cradled what looked like a small bundle of blankets in her arms.  I slowed down as I neared her.