Natural Selection (20 page)

The hardest part about our plan was
figuring out what to do with Mrs. Matthews. Xander wanted to kill
her outright; I felt my pulse race. Was my brother any different
than the Matthews, killing to protect the people he cared about?
Pushing the thought away, I forced my mind back to the topic at
hand. After a lot of debate, we decided to leave her bound in our
basement. There was no way she could go to the authorities because
they’d think she was a loon. We knew she could eventually get
herself free, so we didn't have to worry about hurting
her.

I wound up standing on the sidewalk
with my arm around Evelyn’s waist for support. Next to us stood
Nate with Monica tossed over his shoulder like a sack of
potatoes—unconscious with a half a roll of duct tape binding her.
We watched as Xander went invisible and pulled Mr. Matthews up the
ladder and onto the roof. Nate called down a large bolt of
lightning that struck the ladder. Unable to look, I turned away
taking Evelyn with me. Peter’s body made a sickening thud as it
struck the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut and made myself take the
first step towards home. Worry ate at my stomach, and I chewed my
lip. Sadness washed over me as I realized it wouldn’t be home much
longer. I balled it up with the rest of the emotions I wasn’t
allowing myself to feel and walked on.

THERE WAS SOMETHING different about
our house, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was as if it
already knew what had happened. The place brimmed with so many
memories it made the sadness swell, but not to the point it
overwhelmed me. Sariah was sitting at the kitchen island with her
knees pulled up in front of her. Tears streaked her face, but she
made it look as gorgeous as her generally perfect makeup. It was so
unfair.

I sat Evelyn on the couch while Sariah
made her another cup of tea. Nate took Monica to the basement while
I slipped into my parents’ room. Only it wasn’t my parents’
anymore, it was just Mom’s room. Pushing the sadness down again
before it could overwhelm me, I crawled onto the bed next to
her.

The room was dim, but she lay in a ray
of sun coming through the window. Her face was grim and sallow, her
eyes a little sunken. She lay on her side in the fetal position,
her hands clutched to her breast as if she could hold her breaking
heart together. I spooned behind her, holding her hands. She
nestled her head under my chin, and we lay in silence. I imagined
comfort and peace flowing out of my hands into her—along with
strength and courage. We could get through this; we were made of
strong stuff. My mind drifted, not focusing on anything other than
the emotions I was feeding her.

The sun cut a path across the sky and
lit her face. Finally, she began to show signs of life. She moved
away from me and sat on the opposite side of the bed, still
clutching my hand. After a long moment, I wondered if she just
wanted to be alone. She turned to me with a smile, patted my cheek,
and stood. We went to the kitchen, her still holding my hand in
both of hers. Sariah and Xander straightened abruptly, shock
apparent in their wide eyes and jerky movement. Mom dropped my hand
and took Xander’s. I took Sariah’s and with a slight grimace she
took Xander’s. One of these days I would figure out what the
problem was between them, but not today. Nate stood in the door to
the basement, unsure whether to join us or give us a
moment.

“
Your father would not want
us to stop just because he’s not here,” Mom said. Her voice was so
firm my heart swelled with pride. Strength welled in me, and I felt
myself straighten. I don’t honestly know if was supernatural or
not, but I welcomed the lead in my spine no matter where it came
from. “The plan hasn’t changed. We take Evelyn to the coven in
Springfield. They can sever the spell her mother is using to drain
her. Once we do that, we’ll have to leave here forever. I want each
of you to pack a suitcase.” She met each of our eyes then turned to
include Nate as well. “You need to go home and do the same, Nate.
I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here either. We gave you the choice
to stay out of this. Now Monica knows what you are. I'll talk to
your aunt. You don’t have to come with us, but it’s not safe here
for you.” Nate nodded, his face blank. I wanted to grab his hand
and tell him I was sorry we had drug him into all this. He tried to
give me a reassuring smile, but it was weak and sad. He turned and
walked out the door. Mom turned back to us. “We'll be out of this
house by five.”

My walk through the house to my room
was slow and nostalgic. I checked on Evelyn. She was improving
every moment—her skin a healthier shade, her eyes less sunken.
Hugging her cup to her chest, she sat with her legs folded
underneath her. Her eyes still had a faraway look. She looked lost,
and I felt sorry for her. I tried to give her a reassuring smile,
but she never looked up at me.

The climb up the stairs seemed almost
epic, but soon I stood in the middle of my familiar room. I pulled
my old grey suitcase out of my closet and laid it on my bed,
quickly putting most of my new clothes and daily essentials in it.
Grabbing the silver frame off my bedside table, I ran my hand over
the family portrait. A tear slid down my face, but I wiped it away
and thrust the picture into the suitcase. I added a little jewelry
box my father had given me and other small personal items, before
zipping the bag. Packed but not really ready to go, I sat on my bed
surrounded by my familiar things. The grief I had been ignoring
overwhelmed me as the reality of leaving the only home I’d ever
known hit me. There was no shoving it away this time. Clutching my
pillow to my chest, I sat on the bed and sobbed. I have no idea how
long I cried, lost in my own pain and misery. Arms wrapped around
me, and I took comfort in them not caring who held me. Sorrow
poured out of me until I had no more strength to cry, I backed away
sniffling. I felt a small stab of panic when I realized it was
Nate’s arms around me, but then I saw the tears on his face. With a
cock of my head, I realized that just because he wasn’t blood
didn’t mean Nate wasn’t family. He was feeling my father’s loss
too.

“
My god, Amelia, how do you
hold that much pain in? I’d be catatonic if I hurt that much.” His
voice was gruff and raw, and I wondered how much of my emotions he
could really feel. Would it lessen my grief to let him take
it?

“
I don’t have a choice.” My
voice was barely above a whisper. “Daddy wouldn’t want me to give
up.” I shrugged and gave him my best smile, but it was weak and
pathetic.

“
He would be so proud of
you. You have been so strong today, Amelia.” I usually hated when
people used my full name. It generally meant I was in trouble or
talking to a stranger. But for some reason when Nate used it, it
made me feel beautiful and wanted.

He grabbed my suitcase and headed
downstairs, giving me one last moment in my room. I thought of all
the moments I’d had in this room, good and bad. They replayed like
a movie in my mind—all the laughter, all the tears. Everywhere I
looked there was a memory. Tan splotches of paint on the windowsill
from the paint war Dad and I had while covering the Princess mural.
The dot of nail polish Evelyn had dripped on the floor while
painting my nails. I glanced out the window at the flat roof I
spent many hours sitting on in the last several months. It was hard
to believe only 48 hours had passed since I jumped off it to go see
Evelyn. It seemed odd that two days was all it took to completely
change my life. I looked longingly at my bed wishing I could climb
in and pull the covers over my head to make this all go away.
Instead, I pushed the nostalgic feelings away and joined my
family.

We had a Grounding for Dad—a burial
specifically for nature spirits. It wasn’t much of a ceremony, held
in the side yard beneath the cherry tree that held so many memories
for all of us. An earth sprite said a few kind words before the
earth swallowed his body. We all said goodbye, without a dry eye to
be seen. Mom planted a lily on his grave and fed it with enough
life and energy to keep it blooming for decades. One by one we
turned away and filed back into the house. I squeezed Mom’s hand
before turning to follow the rest, giving her one last moment to
say goodbye.

There was quite a bit of debate of
what to do with Mrs. Matthews, but in the end we left her duck
taped to one of the bar stools in the kitchen. None of us were
certain what Evelyn had done to her, but she assured us her mother
wasn’t hurt and would wake soon enough. We made one last sweep
through the house, grabbing anything that seemed important. I
lingered a few minutes in front of my dad’s books, fingering the
familiar spines. I grabbed an old leather bound one he had been
particularly fond of and held it to my chest. I shoved it into my
suitcase and headed to the driveway.

We loaded everything into Mom’s
minivan and climbed in. I pressed my face against the windowpane as
we pulled away from the house I’d grown up in feeling like I was
losing my best friend. Nate took my hand and gave it a gentle,
reassuring squeeze. Wanting to be alone with my feelings, I
squeezed back then gently released his hand. His mouth twisted a
little, but he didn’t say anything.

We merged onto the interstate in
silence. The last ties to this town, this life died. Everything
that really mattered was now in this car. There was a hole in my
heart where my father had always been, but in time it would heal.
We would be whole and happy again, I reassured myself as we plunged
into the night. Uncertainty was slowly replaced with
hope.

But the nagging feeling that the other
shoe was still going to drop lingered.

IT WAS THE most solemn road trip I’d
ever been on in my life. Nate and I sat on the back bench, Xander
and Sariah in the back captain chairs, and Evelyn was in front with
my mom. I wondered if my siblings had done that deliberately, but I
figured they probably had. They were very protective of me. Despite
all we had done to save her, in their eyes Evelyn was a threat. I
couldn’t imagine what they were thinking since both their faces
were completely blank. I couldn’t help but wonder what they were
feeling, if they were struggling with emotion like I was. It was
unfair that I felt constantly on the brink of tears, beating myself
up for weakness as they sat staring out the window
blandly.

“
We can turn it off, Lia.
It's part of being demonic.” My eyebrows rose. Sariah was reading
my mind! She turned toward me, a slight grin tugging her lips and
an eyebrow arched in amusement. “I’m not reading your mind, Lia.
You’re just very open. I can feel you thinking.” She smiled at me,
but it was tinged with sadness. “If I couldn’t turn it off, it
would drive me mad. But you’re not just feeling your own
pain—you’re also channeling Mom’s. I’ve never felt anything like
it. You started doing it back at the Matthews’s house.”

“
I’m what? Is that even
possible?”

Her brow quirked at me in amusement
again. “After everything that’s happened to you in the past few
months, do you really need to ask that?”

I was so certain my eyebrows had
disappeared into my hair I almost checked. With wide eyes, I
glanced at Nate. He shrugged, sticking out his lower lip. The
silliness of the gesture made me laugh a little. It reminded me of
a time when things had been easier, before I knew about gaia, and
demons and murders. Laughing felt good, even if it was just a
little one.

Too soon we pulled into an apartment
complex parking lot. Mom got out and went inside one of the brick
buildings while we stood around the car. She came out with a woman
wearing a black and red dress that had to come from either Hot
Topic or a Halloween store. Long, stringy black hair, that was
obviously a cheap dye job, fell into narrow muddy-green eyes. She
was heavy set, short, and met almost every stereotype for a Goth
chick. I heard Sariah snicker, and I narrowed my eyes at her
wondering if she was telling the truth about not being able to read
my mind. She shook her head with a smirk.